by Anna Edwards
"I 'ave. It's a good little earning. Yer Dad asked us to set up an account to pay the profits into after I took a wage and costs."
"And then he used the rest trying to buy alcohol in prison."
"No, lass." Mary interrupted. "Yer dad stopped drinking shortly after 'e went to prison. E's been writing to me. I'm not saying 'e didn't slip at first, but e's been dry for ten years now. 'E loved yer ma, 'e 'ates himself for what happened. Yer can't punish 'im more tha 'e is 'imself." Mary pushed her chair back and went to a drawer in an old style dresser. She pulled out a wad of papers. "This be 'is letters. Read 'em, lass. Please. Before yer made any decisions."
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Sonia
"Is it really time to go? I barely feel like I've slept." Sonia rubbed at her tired eyes.
They'd been awake most of the night. Matthew had read the letters to her.
"I'm glad I read them. I can see that he is truly sorry. The first few letters he still blamed my mother but the ones when he stopped drinking showed his real remorse. He misses her, he'll never forgive himself for what he did. I think the next time he sends me a visiting order I’ll go and see him. I can't guarantee that I’ll go through with it when I get there, but he is my father. I owe him a chance to explain." She looked down at the floor, moments of thought drifting through her head at the words that she had read. He'd spoken of their courtship and how much they'd fallen in love. The drink wasn't an issue at first, but it became so when he started to drink far too much, and the farm began to suffer.
"That's a brave decision." Matthew reached out his hand to assist her onto the bike. "You don't have to wait, though."
He hadn't got on the bike yet but stood in front of her. She narrowed her eyes at him.
"What do you mean?" She stepped off the bike again.
"Are you certain you want to see your father?"
"I think I owe it to us both to put closure to this."
Matthew pulled his phone out. He held a finger up to silence her and placed the phone on speaker so that she could hear.
"Jasper."
"Mr Carter, what can I do for you? Or are you going to do something for me?"
"Haven't I done enough?"
"Probably. What is it? I can't talk for long. The head honcho wants us ready for a briefing in five minutes."
"It won't take long. I need a prison visit today."
"Which one?"
Matthew placed a hand over the phone.
"What prison is your father in?"
"Wakefield."
He removed his hand.
"I need to get into Wakefield. My girlfriend wants to see her father."
"Does he want to see her?"
"He's been sending visitor’s orders."
"Can't she use one of them?"
"She destroyed them."
"Give me his name."
"Simon Anderson."
"I call you back ASAP."
"What about your meeting?"
"I've got a pressing matter I need to deal with now. His Highness will have to wait."
Matthew chuckled. “He always did act like he was God. I can't imagine what he's like with their real Highnesses."
"I can only imagine. I won't be long."
The line went dead.
"Today. Now." Her heart was suddenly beating rather rapidly and her palms moistened with nerves. "Surely we have to give more notice?"
"Not when your ex-MI5 and your contacts still are." He pulled her close to him, his warmth soothing her fears. "I'll be with you the entire time. I'm proud of you for making this decision."
"It is the right thing to do isn't it?" She lay her head on his solid chest.
"You hold so much guilt inside you, blaming yourself for something that wasn't within your control. An innocent bystander. No matter how many times you replay it, you couldn’t have changed the outcome. Destiny is the darkness that engulfs us." She pulled back from him and looked up into his eyes. They had gone blank; he couldn’t see her movement. He was lost in a world of his own pain.
"Matthew." She whispered. "You lost someone."
"Yes." The phone rang, and she could've cursed. He pushed away from her and answered it.
"Matthew Carter."
"You are in. Get there as soon as you can."
"Thank you. I owe you one."
"I actually think we're probably about even."
"Give it a week."
Matthew hung up and got on the bike. "You ready?"
*
The door opened and a guard walked in, behind him stood an elderly man, his face sunken and the shadows around his eyes thick with regrets. Lines marked his battered face, each one telling a story.
"God help me." He exclaimed when he saw her and staggered back against the wall. The guard moved to his side and helped him to his seat. She remained glued to her seat, her eyes transfixed on the man that was once her father. "Of all the punishments, this is by far the greatest. Your mother, you’re like her twin. She wouldn’t have been much older than you when she died." He paused, "When I killed her."
With those word's Sonia’s regard flashed back to her father. Sorrow filled his eyes, guilt and penitence echoing in the dull green irises. A colour that matched her own.
"You admit it?"
"Yes. I alone am responsible for the death of my wife and your mother. Lost the two people that meant the world to me."
I survived." It was all she could answer.
"But I lost you from my life. I missed all the happy moments of seeing you grow up. Your first day at school, your first lost tooth, date, graduation. I don't even know what you do for a living. Is the man you’re with your husband? Do you have children of your own? The demons that I thought I lost at the bottom of a bottle robbed me of that."
"And my mother." She was not going to let his self-pity control her emotions.
"I'm sorry. I wallow on my own grief. I deserve none of those first moments because I took them away from you and your mother. What I did was wrong."
"It was. I'll never be able to fully forgive you for it. You know that, don't you."
"I would never ask you to."
A silence descended on them both. This was harder than she had thought it would be. The man in front of her might be her father but he was also a stranger.
"Mr Anderson. I'm Matthew Carter."
Her father smiled at Matthew. It seemed such an effort for him, though physically not in a bad way.
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr Carter." He tried to raise his hand to shake Matthew's but the guard, still in the room, barked “No touching'.”
"Why did you keep asking me to come and see you?"
"To apologise." He ran a hand over his bald head. "But it seems so insignificant and worthless now that you’re here. Apologies will not change what happened."
"Nothing will change what happened."
"Why did you decided to come and see me now?"
"I went to the house yesterday. I saw Mrs Scott; she gave me the letters that you had sent her. " She pursed her lips together. The bitterness built inside her, bubbling in a manner that threatened to explode. He killed her mother. He should die, painfully, preferably. "You killed her." She screamed so loudly the noise startled even her. "I watched the bottle. You kept plunging it into her; she was screaming in agony. She hadn't done anything wrong except love you. I hadn't done anything wrong except love you. You're a monster. You deserve to die. I want you dead. Not her." Tears flooded down her cheeks. She crumbled to the floor. Matthew was instantly there, his arms surrounding her in a comforting cocoon.
Her father huddled over in his chair and started to cough.
"Oh God," Matthew whispered above her head.
Two other guards had appeared. They had breathing apparatus and were hooking him up to it. That is when she noticed it. The blood, red, a wine of life ebbing out of her father.
"Daddy?" The child's innocent phrase slipped from her lips. "What's happening? What's going on?"
"Miss Anderson, please take a seat. Let us stabilise him."
"Stabilise?"
"Sonia." Matthew took her hand and wrapped his arms around her again.
"Why is he like this? What's going on?"
"Wait a moment."
"You know what's wrong?"
She searched him.
"I have my suspicions."
"Tell me." She pursed her lips angrily together.
"Sonia." He father's voice broke through the gasps for air. "I know you’ll never forgive me." He stopped to catch his breath again when it caught in his throat. "God has seen fit to enact his own judgement on me. You wish me dead, it will happen. Soon."
"What?"
"I'm riddled with cancer. I have a few months left at best."
"Cancer. What treatment have they given you?"
"None."
"That can't happen."
"It can and it has."
"No." She turned to Matthew. "Can we speak to James? Get his doctor to look at him."
Matthew shook his head. "This is your father's decision."
"I died the night I took your mother's life. My body has just taken a long while to catch up with my soul."
"I don't want you to die. I didn't mean what I said." Her voice sounded so small.
"I know. This is what must happen. I'm just glad I got to see the amazing woman you’ve become. You make sure he looks after you." His eyes flicked to Matthew who was standing against the wall.
"He’ll always do that."
"She is safe with me, Mr Anderson."
"I'm tired. I need to sleep. Go live your life. Enjoy every moment of it. The past has shaped you, but don’t allow it to destroy you."
"I want to see you again."
"No. We have made our peace with each other. Allow me to die and reconcile with your mother."
The guards returned and helped her father to a wheel chair. They supported all his weight. She tried to keep her composure. To allow him to see her for the last time as the strong woman, he was proud of.
"Sleep well, daddy."
He turned his head, the corners of his mouth turning up into a smile.
Sonia's father died two days later.
The funeral was a very quiet affair. James and Miranda had joined them at the graveside along with the Scott family; he was buried next to her mother. Jack was in the process of buying the farmhouse from her; it was another memory she wanted to put in the past.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Matthew
"Matthew, can you put that box of cupcakes over here please." Miranda's instruction brought him out of his reflection. "James are they the Macaroons. They go over here. Please be gentle with them. They're so delicate, and I don't want to have to discount them."
"Yes, mother."
"Yes, Mrs North."
Both men did as they were told.
"Please say your mother isn't really considering doing this more than once a year?"
"I can’t tell a lie to you, my friend, you know that." James started to put the macaroons out on the stand but not before rolling his eyes in annoyance.
"I think we need to seriously discourage her. There must be some sort of security threat I can worry her with. Cakes can easily be used to hold bombs?"
"She makes most of the cakes herself, and she would just have you scan them."
"Any of those attending could injure her?"
"The event is ticketed, and you’ve examined the guest list in detail?"
"Cakes lead to cholesterol and heart attack?"
"James," Miranda shouted before his boss had a chance to reply. "You don't lay them out like that. In circles, alternate the colours. Make them look attractive to those buying them. I thought that you were supposed to be good at design?" She tutted.
"I'm not. I pay people to do it. Just like we should have done for this."
"I can't pay people!" She looked horrified at the suggestion. "It's for charity. We need to be seen to be doing all we can. Only last week Mrs Morgan held a charity dinner in her home, and she actually waited on the tables herself. What would it look like if I hired people to do it instead of doing it myself?"
"Sensible," James mumbled under his breath and Matthew tried not to smirk. "Mum, we don't need to compete with the likes of Mrs Morgan. I give at least double what her husband gives to charity a year in just a month. We help as many people as we can and in lots of different ways. A little extra help Wouldn’t be frowned on."
"I’m being totally over the top aren't I?" His mother slumped down onto a chair.
"Just a little, Mrs North." Matthew couldn’t stop the answer from coming out of his mouth.
"Mum, you want this event to be a success and it will be but one macaroon out of place will not be a disaster and asking for a little help won't be either."
"I won't be able to get assistance at such short notice. It's going to be a disaster." The matriarch of their little group placed her head in her hands.
"Should ask all the Dom's from the club to help. That would get all the patron's talking, and definitely make it an afternoon tea not to forget." Sonia appeared at the doorway, partially hidden by an enormous croquembouche. I know I wouldn’t mind being served cake by a topless hunk." She winked at him, and he made a mental note to collect a few leftovers for later.
"That isn't a bad idea actually." Miranda had lifted up her head, and he could feel her also measuring him up as a topless cake serving waiter.
"Is this what it feels like to a woman when we stare at her boobs?" He queried of James.
"I'm just glad they're all staring at you and not me."
"James, do you think you could arrange it?"
"I'll have to call in a few favours."
"But you could do it. You and Matthew can help out as well. Such good boys." Sonia placed the croquembouche down, and he watched her laughing thinking she had hidden behind it. He raised an eyebrow at her which told her in no uncertain terms she was being tied up and flogged tonight.
"I'm not wandering around here topless mum, but I will see if I can get some people to help." James pulled out his phone; his mum shoved him out of the way and proceeded to organise the macaroons.
"I'm not going out there like this." Matthew growled.
"Shouldn't it be me telling you that you're not allowed to flash your body to other women?" Sonia ran a hand down his bare chest and stopped at the waistband of his trousers. She pressed a kiss to his left nipple.
"Fuck, now I'm going out there with a hard on.”
"Too much information, Matthew." Callum, one of the Doms from the club called out while pumping his pecs.
"And I don't need to watch you flexing those weak, arse excuse for muscles."
"Jealous."
"Yeah right."
"I donna know what ye lads are worried about. I'm wearing a kilt!" Blair interrupted their protestations. "I goona end up flashing me hooded bandit."
"Hooded bandit?" Callum questioned, Matthew, laughed knowing full well what the Scot was referring to.
"You know, me willy."
"Come on boys. Showtime." Miranda stood in the doorway sniggering. They filed out, each taking a tray of cakes as they went. Matthew watched the Mayor of Kensington's wife pinch James' bottom.
"Mr Carter?" A hand tapped him on the leg.
"Mrs Hurlington-Webb. It's good to see you again."
"It's good to see rather a lot of you." He chuckled and handed her a chocolate cake.
"Did I guess right?"
"Of course."
"Miss Anderson is looking somewhat enervated."
"She has had a death in her family recently. It has caused her a lot of stress."
"You must take her on holiday. Replenish her puissance."
"I was thinking the same thing this morning."
"Don't just think it, young man. Just thinking will do that poor girl no good."
"I’ll talk to James later about time off."
"I’ll phone Miranda tomorrow to e
nsure that you have." She gave him a small wink and he placed the cakes on the table. A pinch to his bottom, elicited a low growl.
"Mrs Morgan, if you're going to pinch my backside." He hesitated while leaning closer to her. "At least give it a good grab." The ladies all started to laugh again as he turned and presented his backside for closer inspection to the now red-cheeked woman. All the women now came over to have a feel. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Sonia watching him, a hand resting on her heart. Her lips parted, and she ran her tongue over them. They were going to have a good night. He pulled away from the ladies, and they returned to their gossip and cakes. James was standing over by the drinks table. He had lipstick kisses all over his chest.
"I don't think I want to ask what happened to you."
"I don't want to relive it either."
"Is your mother happy?"
"Ecstatic. They doubled the funds raised last year. We're going to be a regular thing, apparently."
"Damn it."
James handed him a beer.
"I was wondering if Sonia and I could take a week or so off?"
"When?"
"As soon as possible. I'm going to take her to France. Meet my parents. Then, yes. I'm going to tell her everything. It's time."
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Matthew
"What do you fancy next?" Sonia unlocked her phone. They'd been listening to Matthew's choice of music since they'd left Poitiers three hours ago, and it was time for something different.
"I don't mind. You can choose."
"I thought my taste in music was spectacularly wrong?"
"When you play show tunes it is."
"What is wrong with the Wicked soundtrack?"
"Do I even need to answer that?" Matthew smirked but kept his eyes on the road in front of them.
"Just for that, and the fact that we're in France, Les Miserables soundtrack, it is." She giggled as the thunderous beat of ‘Look Down’ beat out the car stereo.
"You know you’ll suffer for this."
"Only after your ear drums have." And she turned the volume up. He used the controls on the wheel to turn it back down. "Spoilsport."
They had borrowed James' Aston Martin for the journey, at their boss' insistence, so she reached over and used her credit card to pay the toll and the barrier rose.
