Free Protection by Carla Blake Page B

fact still inside and merely waiting for things to die down before making her exit. Huh! It was more likely that she’d already gone, whisked away the moment she’d done her duty, and bundled out of sight before the last cheer had faded away.
    The speakers boomed a second time, again urging folk to leave, and a few did start to drift away, glancing frequently over their shoulders as if they were letting the side down by leaving early and afraid they might miss something whilst their backs were turned.
    Isobel, figuring she probably had seen the last of her, launched back into her job and tried to sort out the traffic. It wasn’t easy. A white van driver called her a heartless bitch, another asked when she was going to stop faffying about and get everyone moving and a cop tapped her on the shoulder.
    â€œGive us a hand further up the road, would you?”He said when she turned. “There’s a car up there needs to get through and the whole bloody road is completely blocked.”
    His wink was enough to tell her who the occupants of the car really were, and thrilled, Isobel followed him, eagerly dishing out warnings and tickets before swearing at a guy in a 4x4 who ran over her foot and laughed as he drove off. It hadn’t actually hurt, the vehicle moving too quickly to do any real damage, but she swore at him anyway, then smiled when he was stopped further down the road and forced to take what she hoped would be a lengthy detour.
    The same constable who’d spoken to her earlier ambled up then, fingering a large tear in the shoulder of his jacket. “Look what they did to me bleedin’ uniform!”He grumbled, poking his finger straight through. “Probably have to pay for this myself and all because a bloody film star wants to get home. It ain’t flamin’ worth it.”
    Isobel agreed it wasn’t and stopped to glare at a woman in a Mini who looked as though she was considering parking on a double yellow.
    â€œGonna be a flamin’ nightmare gettin’ her out of here as well.”The copper continued. “And to think she only lives down the bloody road.”
    â€œWho?”Isobel asked, suddenly all attention. “Carrie Shilling?”
    â€œYeah, her. She only lives at Downlands. You know, the big house about two miles away. Christ! It would’ve been bloody quicker if she’d walked!”
    Shaking her head, Isobel tutted and made all the right noises, but inside she was trembling with excitement.
    Now she knew where she lived.
    Climbing out of bed, Carrie yawned, stretched and crossed to the window, opening the curtains onto a bright, clear day, the sun shining from an azure sky as it sparkled across the light coating of frost spread across the lawn.
    It was, she thought, the perfect day for a long, leisurely walk. Across fields or through forests or along a cliff top with the wind in her hair - and half a dozen photographers capturing her every move!
    Sighing she heard a soft crunching sound and looking down spotted Andrea, walking along the gravel path as she completed her early morning inspection of the property and pausing beneath Carrie’s window to briefly examine the frame before strolling on, apparently satisfied that all was well and totally oblivious to Carrie watching from above, pleased that contrary to what she’d first feared, Andrea’s presence in the house was turning out to be more of a comfort than a hindrance.
    Instinctively Andrea seemed to know when she needed space and kept her distance, yet she always managed to appear just when she was starting to think it would be nice to have some company. She was also very good at her job. Not too pushy, or domineering, but instead solidly reliable. No one, Carrie felt sure, pushed Andrea around.
    And she was gay. Now that had come as a surprise, although it hadn’t been an unpleasant one. It was just that aside from herself, gay woman always seemed to be wearing