‘Stomped off in a mega huff this time,’ Emms said, ‘and for once I don’t blame him. That was a very unkind message.’ ‘Paul thought it was polite, considering.’ ‘But at least we know now that the dart was meant for him, not Morgan.’ ‘Possibly,’ I said. ‘Always assuming that whoever weedkilled the lawn is the same person who tried to dartkill the presenter. Could easily be someone else.’ Emms nodded. ‘True. Almost anyone, come to think of it; he doesn’t have many fans on the team. But none of it helps Time Lines and as much as I . . .’ She paused, hunting for a judicious word. ‘Disapprove of Mr Middleton’s style I wish this nonsense would stop.’ She folded her arms across her chest and looked out over the lawn from where we were standing on the terrace. ‘Look at it. It could all have been so bloody idyllic and for once even comfortable and luxurious.’ ‘For some of you,’ I said, thinking of the sleeping bags drying on the line in the woods. ‘Yeah, I know, I’m a selfish cow.
