Hidden - a dark romance (Marchwood Vampire Series #1)

by Shalini Boland

  ‘I don’t care if you’re a solicitor or the King of Timbuktu, you won’t be going anywhere with this barely sixteen-year-old girl without me.’ Angie put her hands on her hips and glared at Mr Vasey-Smith.

  ‘Angie’ll come with me,’ Maddy agreed.

  ‘Very well.’

  ‘Ali’s Caf on the High Street at four thirty,’ Angie said. ‘Now you better leave before you lose us our jobs.’

  He nodded and left. Angie and Madison stared wide-eyed at each other.

  ‘What’s all that about then?’ Angie asked. ‘I hope for your sake you haven’t done anything you shouldn’t have. Trevor isn’t in the mood for any more of your troublemaking. It’ll be the last straw, Maddy. He’s got no more patience.’

  ‘We better get on with our work, Angie. Colin’ll be on the warpath.’

  ‘Hmmm.’ Angie walked back to the checkouts, glancing back at Madison.

  Maddy’s mind whirred and clicked. She wished she knew what it was all about. How had he known her and where she worked? And he’d mentioned her mum, that was the weirdest part. Her heart felt too big for her ribcage and she couldn’t concentrate. Who cared about country vegetable soup at a time like this?

  *

  Ali’s Caf was packed to its grease-stained ceiling, mainly with school kids, and it didn’t take Madison and Angie any time at all to spot the solicitor. He didn’t quite fit the usual customer profile. He sat, straight-backed, in the far corner with his briefcase on the table.

  Madison followed Angie, who wove her way purposefully past the other customers towards him. They sat down on the sticky plastic chairs and he asked if he could get them a drink.

  ‘Coke please,’ said Madison.

  ‘I’ll have the same,’ said Angie.

  He turned around and asked the man behind the counter for two cokes, a cup of tea and a plate of sandwiches.

  ‘We’re intrigued, Mr ... Vasey-Smith is it?’ Angie said. ‘What’s it all about?’

  ‘I have some interesting news for you, Madison. You’ve been very difficult to track down.’

  ‘How d’you know my mum?’

  ‘We’ll get to all that. Will you permit me to tell you what I need to? And then you can ask me any questions you might have and I’ll do my best to answer them.’

  The cokes arrived on the table and Angie patted her hair and took a couple of delicate sips. ‘Let’s let the man speak, Maddy.’

  ‘Our client is deceased, but before his death he spent much time and considerable funds in trying to trace any living relatives. Alas, he found none, but remained convinced he had someone somewhere, no matter how far removed.

  ‘After his death, he entrusted my firm with the task of carrying on this search for the time span of one hundred years. After which time, if no descendant had been found, his estate was to be gifted to a specific charity of his choosing. Our firm has been engaged in this search for ninety six years, but we believe we have now found not one, but two living descendants: You, Madison, and your brother, Ben.

  Maddy chewed the skin on the back of her forefinger, her glass of coke sat untouched on the table. A girl plonked a mug of tea in front of Mr Vasey-Smith and put a large plate of cheese and tomato sandwiches in the middle of the table.

  ‘We ‘found’ you, so to speak, three and a half years ago, but, as per the terms of the will, were unable to initiate contact until your sixteenth birthday. We’ve been waiting for today.

  ‘This relation, was he rich then?’ Angie asked. ‘Has he left Maddy some money?’

  ‘His estate has been willed to you, Madison, but there are some conditions.’

  Maddy stayed silent, but Angie’s mouth opened and closed. ‘Oh, Maddy, you could be rich! Imagine.’

  ‘There is a large house in Gloucestershire, just outside the town of Tetbury. You will inherit this property on your twenty first birthday but can live in it from the age of sixteen, that is, today.’

  ‘A house …’ Maddy couldn’t comprehend what the man was telling her. She shook her head. ‘This is a wind-up, yeah? Oh very funny. ‘Madison Greene, delinquent waste of space inherits a house’. Ha, Ha, Mr Vasey-whatever your name is. Nice try, but I‘m not falling for that.’

  ‘Maddy, shhh,’ Angie interrupted. ‘Excuse her, she’s got a funny way of saying thank you.’

  ‘I know this is a lot to take in,’ he said. ‘But I can assure you this is not a joke. In addition to the property, there is a generous allowance to be dispensed monthly, until such time as you reach twenty-one-years-of-age or marry, whichever comes first. At that time, the remainder of the estate is to pass in its entirety to you, Miss Greene. The current value of this estate is sixty one million pounds.’

  Madison couldn’t accept what she was hearing. Thoughts of school, Haggis, Ben, care homes, Angie and Trevor, flew through her mind along with the unfamiliar images of piles and piles of cash, flashy cars and, for some reason, very rich people in dark sunglasses.

  ‘What? Sorry?’

  Mr Vasey-Smith had been speaking, but her mind had drifted off and she hadn’t heard what he’d said.

  ‘I know this is a shock for you. But I do trust it is a welcome one. I was just saying there are a number of stipulations regarding the settlement of the will and, to that end, I suggest we reconvene in my office, where we can go over the fine details more thoroughly. Shall we say ten thirty tomorrow morning, if that’s convenient? Here’s my card. Our offices are just a few minutes walk from Baker Street tube station.’

  Madison clutched the card. ‘Is it really true? You’re on the level? Me and Ben are ... We’re rich?’

  ‘Yes, Miss Greene, it’s true.’

  *

  That evening, Angie and Trevor ordered a Chinese takeaway, letting Madison and Ben order whatever they wanted from the menu.

  ‘Well, it is your birthday,’ Trevor said, ruffling her hair. ‘Madison was amused and annoyed at his good mood. For days now, she’d been careful to keep out of his way, trying to avoid riling him and now it appeared she was completely forgiven. He and Angie were sunshine and happiness, laughing, joking and teasing.

  When Madison had told Ben they were coming into some money, he’d got pretty excited.

  ‘Does that mean I can get a laptop and a DS?’

  ‘Hold on there, shortie!’ Madison laughed. ‘We’ve got to get the cash before we can spend it.’

  ‘So this relation of yours …’ Trevor asked through a mouthful of chicken chow mein, ‘… he died a hundred years ago?’

  ‘Mr Vasey-whatsit said they’d been looking for ninety six years, so nearly a hundred, yeah.’

  ‘Blimey. Lucky they found you then. Nice they found you settled and happy with us and not in some scabby care home. Your relation would’ve been pleased we gave you a home.’

  ‘Mmm.’ Madison felt uncomfortable at the direction the conversation was taking.

  Angie looked at Trevor and then at Madison. ‘So, Maddy,’ she said. ‘What an interesting sixteenth birthday you’ve had. You’re not gonna forget today in a hurry.’ She looked at her husband again.

  ‘Trevor and me have agreed you can go out with your mates tonight if you want. But I wouldn’t mention what’s happened today to any of them. You know what people are like when money’s involved. I mean me and Trev, we’ve just got your best interests at heart, but … Well, you just don’t know how other people are going to react. They might try and take advantage. You need to be careful now, Maddy.’

  ‘Can I go out now then?’ Maddy rose to her feet.

  ‘Don’t you want to finish your takeaway?’

  ‘Not really that hungry, thanks.’

  ‘Go on then, love. Have a good time,’ Trevor said. ‘Me and Ben’ll finish yours, won’t we, lad? You need a bit of building up anyway.’ He squeezed Ben’s skinny bicep.

  ‘Not too late please. Big day tomorrow with that solicitor and everything.’ Angie stood up and kissed her cheek. ‘Happy Birthday, love.’

  Maddy got changed
and rushed downstairs, relieved to get out of the house into the evening air. Things had never felt stranger. She walked towards the park, texting Keisha and Lois on the way. They arranged to meet up in ten minutes time.

  As she walked across the tarmac, Maddy saw her friends were already there. They were easy to spot. Keisha, a half Afro-Caribbean, half English beauty, with long brown hair and a willowy figure. And Lois, with her streaked blonde hair, big boobs and an attitude radiating from every knock-off designer fibre.

  When Maddy started at Collingstone, she’d slotted into their friendship easily and although the others had known each other since they were tots, it felt like the three of them had always been together.

  Maddy ignored Angie’s advice and immediately told her friends what had happened with the solicitor.

  ‘You’re winding us up, right?’ Keisha raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow.

  ‘I know it sounds insane. But I’m totally serious.’

  ‘Girl, that isn’t something to go joking about.’

  ‘I’m not.’

  ‘But then … wow! You’re like, set for life. If you’re having a laugh, I’ll …’

  ‘I’m not!’

  ‘Mads, I can’t believe it.’ Lois threw her arms around her friend and hugged her. Then all three of them started jumping up and down, whooping and laughing.

  ‘Yeah!’ Lois screeched. ‘Don’t you go forgetting your friends though. You’ll be going out with film stars and partying with Paris and Lindsay while we’re stuck here getting jiggy with it, to Paul Mancini’s mobile disco.’

  Mads and Keisha laughed at her intentionally crap dance moves.

  ‘Where is Gloucester anyway?’ Keisha asked. Is it in the country? You gonna have to move there?’

  ‘It’s Gloucestershire I think, some village called Tetbury or something. I dunno where it is and I ain’t moving to the country. Nothing going on there. Maybe I could buy a place in town and we could all move in together.’

  ‘Oh, Mads, you’re gonna live the dream.’

  They spent the rest of the evening theoretically spending sixty one million pounds.

  *

  Trevor and Angie had made an effort for their trip into town. Trevor in a too-tight suit and Angie with flattened hair and a new skirt and blouse. They made Ben put on a shirt and tie, but Maddy wouldn’t be told what to wear and decided on faded stretch jeans, black wedges, a strappy vest and lots of jewellery. She pulled her black hair into two cute bunches and went heavy on the eyeliner.

  A warm breeze wafted a musty, oily scent into Maddy’s nostrils and she inhaled deeply as they descended the escalator. Their tube wasn’t too busy and they all got a seat.

  ‘You excited, Maddy?’ Angie asked.

  ‘Dunno. It’s a bit weird.’

  ‘Weird?’ Trevor scoffed. ‘It’s everybody’s dream come true, is what it is. Things like this just don’t happen. I’d say you’re the luckiest girl in Britain.’

  Maddy shrugged her shoulders. Sure it was great and everything, but she certainly didn’t feel like the luckiest girl in Britain. She just felt ... weird.

  After a couple of changes, they reached Baker Street and stepped out into the muggy warmth of central London. Outside the station Maddy saw a few stalls and shops selling the usual tat of policeman’s helmets, t shirts and postcards. The queue for Madame Tussauds and The Planetarium snaked along for what looked like half a mile up the road and the traffic roared past.

  Trevor led the way and within minutes, they stood outside the impressive white mansion block that housed Hamilton Blythe Solicitors.

  After taking the wrought iron lift up to the third floor, they found themselves in a plush reception area, a bit like the lobby of a five star hotel. Madison looked around, trying not to feel intimidated. She took in the pale marble floor, dark green pot plants and several groupings of subtly mismatched sofas and armchairs. Today’s newspapers and the latest glossy magazines adorned side tables and an indoor water feature provided a delicate tinkling sound, making Maddy want to pee.

  They were greeted immediately by a smartly dressed young woman who asked them to please sit and make themselves comfortable for a few minutes. Mr Vasey-Smith would be with them very shortly. She took drinks orders and returned almost immediately with a tall jug of iced lemonade and a plate of freshly baked cakes and biscuits.

  ‘You better get used to this, Maddy,’ Trevor said, ‘now you’re a lady of means.’

  ‘It’s just lemonade and biscuits, Trevor.’

  ‘No pleasing some people.’

  ‘Mads, this is awesome,’ Ben said, eyes wide, taking it all in.

  ‘Not bad, shortie, not bad.’ She smiled and winked at her brother.

  Phones trilled in the background and she heard low murmuring voices from the room behind the large reception desk. Barely a couple of sips of lemonade later, and Maddy saw Mr Vasey-Smith heading their way. He smiled at Maddy and Ben and nodded to Trevor and Angie.

  ‘Shall we?’ He gestured to them and they followed him up a small set of stairs to the left of the reception area and then through an unmarked door into a small conference room with an oval walnut table and eight high-backed chairs. A briefcase lay on the table. He sat down in front of it and wheeled the combination lock until it clicked open. The receptionist came in behind them and set the tray of drinks and biscuits on the table, along with a pot of tea for Mr Vasey-Smith.

  ‘Please do sit. Now, first things first. Did you bring your birth certificate?’ Angie took the document out of her handbag and passed it across to him. ‘I’ll take a copy of this, but it’s just a formality, Madison. We know who you are.’ He removed a rolled-up scroll of paper from his briefcase and slid it across to her. ‘This is how we found you.’

  Maddy unfurled the paper and laid it flat on the table. It showed a hand-written family tree stretching back to 1764. Hers and Ben’s were the most recent names, right at the bottom, linked to her mother’s name. The names Swinton and Hathaway were the predominant surnames on the document. Her surname, ‘Greene’, was her father’s name and none of his ancestors were on the tree. The tree related to her mother’s lineage.

  ‘The gentleman we’re interested in is ‘Harold Swinton’. His wife Victoria is your distant relative.’ Mr Vasey-Smith reached across and pointed to the name, somewhere near the top of the scroll. ‘She was the niece of your great-great-great-grandmother and her husband left his considerable fortune to you and your brother.’

  ‘So what about all the other people here?’ Maddy asked. ‘Surely some of them must’ve had kids? Are me and Ben really the only ones?’

  ‘Yes, we’ve researched it extensively. We had to go back to the eighteenth century to find another branch of the family, which led us back down to you. It was only with the advent of the internet and the release of certain classified military records, that we were able to trace you.’

  Maddy thought for a bit. She and Ben were alone in the world. Here on a scrappy piece of paper in black and white, was evidence of a real family, but they were all dead. Just her luck. She knew she’d give up all the money if she could have her mum back, but that wasn’t going to happen. So she decided this money would be their way forward. She would use it to make their lives safe.

  ‘So let me get this straight,’ Trevor said. ‘These Swintons were Maddy’s ancestors, but their kids are dead and there’s no other relations anywhere apart from Maddy and Ben?’

  ‘Just so.’

  ‘And Maddy gets everything?’

  ‘I’ll get to that in a minute.’

  ‘I thought you said she gets a house and sixty one million? Angie, you told me …’

  ‘Mr Johnson,’ Mr Vasey-Smith interrupted. ‘I mean no disrespect to you, but this meeting is for Madison and I would be obliged if you would let me explain all the details.’

  ‘Just looking out for Maddy here, that’s all. She’s only sixteen.’

  Maddy looked at her foster father with dislike and felt an unfamilia
r wash of embarrassment at his crassness. She returned her gaze to the solicitor and waited for him to continue.

  ‘Once the paperwork is signed, you will stand to inherit the house in Gloucestershire and will receive a very generous monthly allowance from your trust fund. The main stipulation is that you must make the property your permanent residence, not just in name. You must live there for at least forty weeks in each year.’

  ‘Live there? I can’t live there.’

  Chapter Four

  1881

  *

  Inside the Gare du Nord, a cold March light washed down through a massive glazed arch onto the hoards of passengers. Among them, Alexandre and his family stood in the Salle de Depart, waiting to board the sleeper train from Paris to the Port of Marseille.

  Papa went off to locate their platform and soon returned to guide them towards a large black steam train which hissed and blew on the line. They found their first class carriage easily enough, their name written on a piece of stiff card attached to the door.

  Other passengers squeezed passed them in the corridor and Alexandre eyed them with interest, wondering what their stories were and whether he would have the chance to converse with any of them. The rest of his family bustled about inside their compartment, stowing away bags and removing overcoats.

  ‘Come in, Alexandre,’ his mother chided. ‘Why are you standing out there? You are blocking the way for the other passengers.’

  ‘Sorry, Maman,’ he replied and entered their compartment.

  ‘But where are we to sleep?’ Isobel asked.

  ‘It has only just turned four o’clock, Isobel. You do not need to worry about that just yet,’ Papa teased.

  ‘Tell us more of Turkey, Papa,’ Jacques said.

  ‘Let us remove our outer garments and make ourselves comfortable first. We have a long train ride ahead of us.’

  Before long, they were snugly ensconced in their first class compartment, all coats and bags stowed away under their seats.

  Doors slammed, the whistle blew and great clouds of steam wheeshed into the icy afternoon air. The carriage lurched backwards unsteadily and then, with more confidence, rocked forwards and away, out of the station, leaving behind the great iron roof of the Gare du Nord.

  The soft rhythmic puffing of the train took Alexandre and his family northwards through the grimy Parisian suburbs until they were outside the city. And then it curved back round onto the main line that would take them south to the sea and beyond.