Chapter 23: Emmy
The day after Marjorie’s séance, I found George on deck with a young woman. He didn’t seem keen to introduce us so I went over and introduced myself.
‘I’m Cameron,’ I said shaking her hand. ‘Who is this delightful girl, George?’
She was actually very pretty, a tall Germanic type with a healthy tan and sun-bleached blonde hair. George looked worried. He does not want me to know this person!
‘I’m Emily. His daughter,’ she said in a strong German accent.
Now this was a surprise! I’d had no idea George had a daughter. I was even more surprised that George had managed to have attractive offspring – the girl must have taken after her mother.
‘You must stay for dinner, my dear, and tell me all about how our George here ended up with a German daughter,’ I said eying her up with interest.
George shot me a dirty look and looked very uncomfortable. ‘Not tonight,’ he said. ‘I have to take Emmy back to Monaco, but I will tell you all later.’ With that, he shepherded her into the tender and they set off. She had obviously surprised him with an unexpected visit.
This is just too good! George managed to get a Fräulein pregnant! His grandad would be spinning in his grave – if he’d had one. I cornered Roberto in the kitchen, too curious to wait for George’s return to find out more.
‘Did you know George had a daughter Roberto?’ I asked him.
‘Uh, no, Mr Blair.’
Roberto sounded nervous and I knew he was lying. ‘Any other secrets you two are keeping from me?’ I asked him in a stern voice that I knew would rattle him further.
‘I’m sorry, Mr Blair. He told me not to tell you. I don’t know why.’ Another lie.
‘He doesn’t trust me, does he?’ I asked.
‘Fathers are just very protective of their daughters.’
I raised my eyebrows. ‘Does she need protecting from me?’
‘I don’t know, Sir, it’s just that... you are what you are, and… You have to speak to him,’ stammered Roberto and he hastily left the kitchen.
I was annoyed. I had hoped to have earned their trust by now, but they seemed to have so many secrets and called me a psychopath behind my back. I suddenly felt very lonely. It would forever be the humans and me. I waited impatiently for George to come back to the yacht, but when he got back that evening he had a passenger with him.
‘Ah, the woman that gave bleeding a husband dry a whole new meaning. How are you Nanette, darling?’ I asked, helping her on board.
‘Shut up. I don’t want to be here a moment longer than I have to,’ she replied, pushing me aside.
‘But it’s such a pleasure to have you on board,’ I said with my most charming smile.
‘Cameron, your fence has been arrested. Rashid Lal, that’s your jewellery man isn’t it?’ she said.
This was very bad news. I had landed poor Rashid right in it. I’m not sure how Nanette had come by the information, but I knew why she would want me to know. A vampire being found out could be very bad news for her too. Once my existence was confirmed, there would be a hunt to find more. People might well compare our behaviour and find her out too.
‘You have to go Cameron, and quickly,’ she told me.
‘Do you know where they’re keeping him?’ asked George. I was sure he was secretly hoping he could go and bust him out.
‘Somewhere in Moscow. You wouldn’t get anywhere near him,’ she said impatiently.
Darn. He must have tried to sell some of the pieces to his collector. Nanette left with Roberto in our tender and George and I made preparations for me to leave. I took all the money we had in the safe and some clothes, together with the small canvas Hélène had done. I had carried that little portrait everywhere with me, it reminded me never to let anyone get as close to me as she had done and never to fall in love again. George had access to my bank accounts, so he’d be fine, but I asked him to clear some of it out in case my funds were blocked and to hide it somewhere safe.
‘You and Roberto must go to the police and tell them everything apart from the vampire stuff,’ I said to George. ‘You both have proper wage slips and there is no evidence that the two of you are involved in any way.’
‘I know, Cameron. We will be fine,’ George said quietly.
‘Tell me how your Emily came about,’ I asked him with false cheer as I packed my bags.
He told me he’d been stationed near Bielefeld in Germany early in his army career. The locals weren’t too friendly – they were fed up with all the young English soldiers stationed on their door step, most of whom didn’t speak a word of German and some of whom made nuisances of themselves in the local clubs and bars. Few friendships formed between the two nations in those days, but George had been different. He didn’t drink and therefore avoided the bars and clubs and he started to attend a German language class in the evening to have something to do.
‘You speak German?’ I asked him, surprised, knowing George’s struggle with languages.
‘Nah! I was rubbish at that too, but the teacher was nice.’ He gave me a big goofy grin. Wow George must have liked this girl a lot. He told me the teacher was called Sandra Offenbach and the two of them had become friendly. After about six months, she found out she was pregnant. George did the honourable thing and married her.
She wasn’t cut out for being an army wife; she didn’t get on with the other, mostly British, wives and had different interests. She also hated being alone with a small child while her husband was away on exercise or an overseas posting. The marriage lasted four years. Sandra decided to end it when George joined the SAS and was posted back to England. She didn’t want her husband to have an even more dangerous job and, as she preferred to stay in Germany with her daughter, they agreed to divorce.
‘Are the two of you still in touch?’ I asked him.
‘Yes. We’ve always been on good terms; she just hated being an army wife.’
‘Would she like being the wife of a yacht captain?’ I asked him with a nudge to his shoulder.
‘She has long since remarried. A fellow German teacher. To be honest, I think there was something going on between them before the divorce. Sandra always hated it when I was away on army business and I think she found comfort in this guy’s arms.’
George didn’t seem too upset but I thought I should offer anyway. ‘Do you want me to kill him?’ I asked.
‘No! Please don’t kill anyone else,’ George said hastily. ‘I don’t mind the guy actually. He’s been a good dad to Emmy.’
When I’d finished packing, we made our way up on deck and saw Roberto approaching with the tender.
‘Look after that tasty daughter of yours, it a shame I never got to know her better,’ I said to George smiling.
‘You know I’d rather kill you than allow you anywhere near her, you bastard,’ he said and I knew he wasn’t kidding.
‘I know, George,’ I said offering him my hand, all traces of mockery gone for once. ‘Take care now.’
‘We’ll meet up again when this has all died down in a few years,’ he said as he took my hand. Then uncomfortable with poignancy of the moment he told me, ‘Now bugger off!’
I got into the tender with Roberto and we set off for Monaco. ‘Now Roberto, you must tell the police everything – apart from any weird vampire stuff. Just... you know, be as honest as you can,’ I said as we sailed to shore.
‘I will, Mr Blair,’ he said still looking very nervous.
‘It’s Cameron! I can look after myself. Save your own skin and co-operate as much as you can.’
‘Ok, Mr Blair.’ I felt my fangs aching to push themselves out but I calmed down and told him, ‘Listen, stay in touch with George, if you can, but go back to Colombia.’
‘I will,’ he assured me.
‘At least you can take that bint of yours out on the town now,’ I said with a wink and a smile.
‘What?’ Roberto looked confused.
‘So, who is she the
n, your girlfriend?’ I asked him.
‘Erm, I have been seeing Francesca, Gianluca’s daughter,’ he stammered.
‘Oh! Good! She seemed nice,’ I said, but I had only seen her in passing and she hadn’t registered.
‘She is, and I want to ask her to come to Colombia with me to meet my parents,’ he told me and he blushed a bit.
‘Have a good life, Roberto. I hope we’ll meet again and you’ll forgive me,’ I said as I offered him my hand.
He was taken aback. ‘I... I... It’s all good, Mr Blair,’ he stammered, as we shook hands. I went on shore and watched him sail off.
I had made a right royal mess of things. Why had I allowed so much human involvement in my life? It had never gone well. As Roberto sped back towards The Count Dracula I realised I would miss this life; I’d really had the most wonderful time in the south of France, but it was time to go and it was time to grow up, be more responsible and become someone else again.
Language in the Blood Page 39
