Sommersgate House (9 page)

“Come with me,
you’ll be safe,” he’d commanded, speaking fluent Russian.

She went, too
afraid not to go at the same time knowing somewhere deep in her
heart she was safe.

He took her to
a hotel and signed her in, paying a week in advance.

She expected
he would want something, something she’d never given anyone, and,
although she was frightened, she knew she would have given it to
him. He had saved her life for one thing and for another, he was
very handsome, except for the scar on his mouth which made him look
slightly menacing.

He was tall,
lean and utterly perfect.

And he was her
hero.

But instead,
the moment he saw her safely into her room and handed her a wetted
towel to wipe the blood from her mouth, he turned to go. She became
so scared at the thought of being left alone, she blurted out her
whole life story in quick, frightened sentences.

He listened,
his impersonal expression never changing throughout her sad saga.
When she was done, he nodded and left without a word. She thought
that was it and she didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t stay and
she was too frightened to leave.

In fifteen
minutes, the phone rang in the room and an efficient woman was on
the line, telling Veronika in somewhat broken Russian what would
happen to her. In a week, she had a passport and a ticket to
England.

That was it
and here she was.

She’d started
her job immediately in this big, frightening house with its many
chimneys and gables, wrought-ironed scroll work, twisted, strange
fancies shooting toward the sky, its curved turrets and graceful
chapel.

Mrs. K was
nice to her from the first but it still took Veronika months to
trust her. Carter was gruff and quiet but she noticed he, and Mr.
Kilpatrick when he was around, both looked after Veronika either
under Mrs. K’s request or Lord Ashton’s edict. Even with their easy
acceptance and their kind, efficient training of her in her new
duties, she was still frightened. The men Lord Ashton had bested
were not of the kind to lose gracefully.

She lived in
fear that they would find her, one day.

In her new
life, though, somehow, with all of this hanging over her head, the
house scared her most of all. Especially at night, when she watched
over the children and heard the noises, felt the draughts and saw
the shadow of a man walking around outside.

No, the house
didn’t scare her most of all. Losing her job did. She couldn’t go
back to St. Petersburg.

And she feared
losing her job every second of every day because Lady Ashton was
not an easy mistress.

Everything had
to be perfect, no feather left on the floor by the vacuum, no wet
washcloth forgotten in the shower, no familiarity with family or
guests. If it happened, the results were terrible. Veronika had
felt Lady Ashton’s displeasure, the razor sharpness of her tongue
and her angry eyes. There were rules and responsibilities that had
to be seen to with the utmost care, Veronika had twice been
careless, one more time and Veronika knew she would be gone.

“Oh! There you
are,” Julia greeted her as if she was actually looking for her and
wanted to speak to her. Veronika was finishing in her bathroom and
watched as the American approached.

“Look at
these… can you believe? I told Sam I needed a mobile phone and a
computer, what… two hours ago? And look.”

Veronika
shrank back as Miss Julia showed her a sheaf of papers, all of
which had tiny writing and pictures of phones or computers on
them.

“‘Pick one,’
Sam said, ‘and I’ll have it delivered to you this afternoon.’ This
afternoon!” Miss Julia shook her head and Veronika watched the
shining, fair hair move around the woman’s tired face. Unlike Lord
Ashton and his mother, this one, Veronika could tell from her own
awful experiences, was in mourning.

In Russia,
when you lost a loved one, you wore black and you beat your chest
and you cried and screamed and followed the coffins throwing
yourself on the ground while you cursed God. Veronika knew this,
she’d done it three times in her short life.

Not here, not
in England.

Here, one day
Lady Tamsin and Mister Gavin were alive, the next day, they were
not and it was business as usual.

Veronika had
walked in on Mrs. K snuffling into her handkerchief and Carter
hadn’t spoken for a week, walking around tight-lipped and pale.

But, the
family had showed no signs that the slightest thing was amiss.

But Miss Julia
looked like she could use a black shawl around her head and good
scream and beating of the chest. Her grief was etched in every line
of her body.

In her
short, sad life, Veronika had lost her mother, father and sister.
She knew grief and the look behind Miss Julia’s eyes was a look
Veronika had seen in the mirror many a morning (and sometimes
she
still
saw it in
the mirror). She could try to hide it but it showed.

“Which one
should I pick?” Miss Julia asked, sounding genuinely like she
wanted an answer.

Veronika
stared at the papers, not understanding the words written on
them.

“I do not
know,” she answered in her heavily-accented English.

“
I don’t
know either,” Miss Julia sighed and walked down the hallway. Little
Ruby was laying on her back on the bed, arms and legs splayed out
like she was arrested in the act of making a snow angel. Julia
jumped on the bed and pulled the child’s t-shirt up and blew a
raspberry so loud on her belly that the child shrieked with
laughter. It made Veronika want to smile. She hadn’t heard laughter
in this house in… well, she’d
never
heard it.

Though, of the
three children, Veronika knew Ruby would one day find it the
hardest. She didn’t know what she felt now, just loss and
bewilderment. To her, Mummy and Daddy could come back any day.

But one day,
without the precious memories the others enjoyed, Ruby would have
the hardest time of all.

“So, you’re
coming with us to London?” It took a moment to register that Julia
was speaking to her she was so used to being ignored. Veronika
stood there, carrying the towels Julia had used the night
before.

“I… yes. To
look after children,” Veronika answered.

“Have you ever
been to London?”

Veronika shook
her head.

“Then you’ll
go with us on Saturday,” she decided and Veronika just stared.
“We’re going to Kensington Palace to see Diana’s gowns and to
Madame Tussaud’s to see all the waxworks.”

“And the Tower
of London where they chopped off people’s heads!” Ruby shouted,
even though both women were close enough to hear.

Julia turned
and looked at Veronika, her tired, sad eyes kind.

“Would you
like that, Veronika? To see Diana’s dresses?” she asked.

“And the place
they chop off heads!” Ruby shouted again and Julia smiled
indulgently at the child.

Veronika
didn’t know what to say. She was paid to do what she did. Would she
get sacked if she went sightseeing in London? Mrs. K said the
American was now a member of the Ashton family and should be
treated thus. If Miss Julia told her she must go then she couldn’t
refuse.

She’d always
wanted to go to London, she’d always wanted to go anywhere and
everywhere, to travel and have adventures, see things, meet people,
eat different food and hear different music. But those were dreams
and even though she was only seventeen she knew that her life was
this. Work and loneliness, not sightseeing in London. Any dreams
Veronika had were long since dead.

“Don’t worry,
Veronika, we’ll take care of you,” Miss Julia assured her in her
soft, throaty voice, watching Veronika closely.

“Yes! Auntie
Jewel takes care of everyone. That’s what Daddy always says.”

Both women
looked at the child who was now on her knees, her hands clasped in
front of her, her eyes bright with excitement at the prospect of
London.

Veronika
turned to the American and saw the tears shimmering in the other
woman’s eyes. Knowing instinctively what to do, before little Ruby
could see her aunt’s despair, Veronika rushed forward.

“Come, girl.
We take a walk to see what Missus Kilpatrick is doing, maybe she
makes bread. You help her.”

Ruby, always
up for an adventure, shot out of the room.

Veronika
quickly followed her but when she turned to close the door behind
her to give the American some privacy, Julia was there, one hand on
the door to stop Veronika.

“Thank you,”
Julia whispered, her voice such an absolute ache Veronika felt it
lodge in her own throat just hearing it.

Veronika
nodded and gently closed the door.

No,
Veronika didn’t know what to make of the American. But somehow, she
felt maybe she could believe her luck
had
changed.

Douglas’s
Protection

The doorbell
rang at Douglas’s house in the posh Kensington area of London just
as Julia was walking down the stairs. She saw Veronika come out of
the room where she and the kids were watching a DVD and she waved
her back.

“I’ve got it,”
she told the girl, Veronika nodded and walked back from where she
came.

Julia opened
the door and a short woman with dark hair highlighted expertly with
blonde streaks charged in.

“Okay… I hope
I’m not too late but I had a million things to do,” the woman
announced without saying hello.

But she didn’t
have to say hello.

Julia had
never met Sam Thornton but she would know her voice anywhere.

Sam whirled
around once she’d gained entry and stopped. Julia saw Sam was
wearing a well-cut, black suit with impossibly high-heeled black
pumps and still she was at least four inches shorter than
Julia.

“Well, I can
see I didn’t need to rush. Wow, that’s quite a dress,” Sam
pronounced, her eyes giving Julia a head-to-toe.

“Sam,” Julia
said and walked forward, bent down and tightly hugged the woman
she’d known for months but had never met.

The last three
days, as with the last five months, Sam had been her lifeline.
She’d arranged for Julia to have a mobile phone, a laptop and had
the technician come to Sommersgate to connect Julia’s new computer
not only to the high-speed broadband that was already laid to the
house but also to connect it to Douglas’s complicated, wireless
network in the house. Sam acquired an e-mail address for her as
well and this meant Julia was in touch with family and friends back
home and for that she’d be forever grateful.

Sam had sent
Julia all the forms she needed for her driving license and from the
Home Office. She’d researched health insurance and sent her job
openings and volunteer opportunities in Julia’s field. She’d even
looked into getting Julia a bank account, which right now seemed
impossible due to laws put in place to prevent terrorist activities
and thus Julia had to be a resident of the country. It appeared
Douglas had to open an account for her which was an aggravation
Julia did not need and something she had to discuss with him on
Sunday.

As the days
went by, Julia was getting more and more uncomfortable with the
“arrangement”, as Douglas had called it, and needing to rely so
heavily on him, even when he wasn’t there. Her debts to him were
mounting up and Julia was making carefully updated lists to tally
these debts so she could (if she ever saw him for long enough to
have a conversation with him) settle them.

Once Julia
stepped back from Sam, the other woman started talking in her usual
rapid fire way.

“Good to meet
you too,” she said, obviously flustered at Julia’s show of
affection. “I brought half a dozen frocks just in case you didn’t
have anything suitable to wear tonight but it seems I didn’t need
to worry.” She gestured at Julia’s outfit and then quickly on to
another thought, she glanced around her. “Where are the kids?”

Without a
response from Julia, Sam headed directly towards the lounge and the
other woman’s command of the situation and everything around her
made Julia smile.

She looked
down at her dress thinking with amusement about Sam taking charge
of even her wardrobe. Julia’s dress was jade green satin, with a
high, mandarin neckline with intricate aquamarine frogs and
scrolled cording. The hem was embroidered extravagantly in pale
yellows, deep pinks, aquamarine with accents of black and gold with
high slits up her thighs on either side. She wore a pair of
delicate but dangerous-looking high, spike-heeled, slingback pumps.
She’d twisted her hair up at the back, clipping it at the crown
with a gold barrette inset with jade allowing the thick, waving
blonde mass to fall over the clip.

She followed
Sam into the lounge and it was clear the children knew her as they
crowded around and Sam gave them affectionate hugs. Either they
knew her or they were overwhelmed by the big chocolate bars she was
freely distributing from her handbag.

Julia’s week
had been hectic, settling in, getting sorted, understanding the
children’s schedules which included daytime trips for Ruby to
gymnastics and ballet classes and evening piano and violin lessons
for Willie and Lizzie with Lizzie also taking ballet. There was
also homework and instrument practice and the rigid schedule of the
house mealtimes and bedtimes to keep.

That day
they’d left early and Julia was thrilled to be free of the
forbidding house that, even as enormous as it was, still felt
claustrophobic. She sensed a strangeness there she couldn’t put her
finger on and Ruby’s imaginary friend (whom the girl talked about
all the time) was giving her the creeps.