“Woah darling!” The blond haired man stumbled out of the way as she threw Ben into a chair.
“Get the fuck out!” Lana shouted, nobody moved. “I’m not kidding! Seriously get out!” Slowly the group of men wandered out into the corridor closing the door behind them. Lana’s breath was coming short and fast.
“Who the hell….” Ben began.
“You raping piece of shit.” Lana strode up and back handed him hard across the face. “How can we even share the same blood huh?” She screamed in his face. Ben raised his hand from his cheek and looked at the slither of blood that coated it.
“You cut my face.” He stammered.
“You are so lucky that’s all I cut!” Lana was pacing backwards and forwards. “How could you? How could you do that to another person? Didn’t you think about the affect it would have on her life?” She stopped and stared at him as he wiped his hand across his jeans.
“I don’t know what you think you know but I never touched her.” Ben smiled slimily. “She may have wanted me to, in fact this whole thing seems more like something she may have fantasised about.”
“You really are a piece of work!” Lana growled.
“Why do you care so much anyway?” Ben folded a handkerchief from his pocket and held it to the small cut below his eye.
“Because I just found half my family and realised my brother, the only sibling I have, is a rapist.” Lana flushed a little with the lie. “Kind of messes with your mind a little.” She added.
“Hmmm.” He wiped at the cut, examined the cloth and reapplied it. “So it’s not because you’re sleeping with her?” Now he fixed her in his stare, his blue eyes dancing with amusement. “Naughty sister, fiddling with a patient.” She raised her hand to hit him again but this time he stood and gripped her wrist in one hand and throat in the other. Lana struggled to catch her breath as he squeezed harder around her windpipe her spare hand grasping and clawing at his arm.
“Do you love her?” He asked with incredulity. “After all the things Miranda has told me about you, I thought that you were more fun than that.” He tutted and let her go so that she sagged into the armchair coughing. Ben stepped around the room to a small table where a crystal decanter was positioned he poured out a glass of coppery liquid and took a sip.
“She felt good you know?” He smiled again as Lana looked up eye’s blazing. “Especially when she struggled. Feisty.” He laughed and took another drink.
“You really think you got away with it don’t you?” She rasped.
“I have. There’s no If or when, that’s the good thing about our family, we can do what we want.” He smiled a thin droplet of blood fell to the floor. “If you weren’t such a bitch you could have enjoyed the perks too.”
“Try denying DNA proof asshole.” Lana pushed herself to her feet.
“There is none, dad paid off the sergeant at the station. All records went up in smoke, literally!” Ben laughed again but stepped back around the snooker table as Lana moved forwards.
“I’m not talking about pieces of paper dip shit.” She smiled broadly. “I’m talking about a baby!” The glass slipped from Ben’s hand and bounced across the floor.
“There is no baby, she couldn’t even get pregnant with her husband never mind one quick fumble with me and anyway I wasn’t stupid enough to….” He seemed to falter on the words.
“Oh really now you get embarrassed?” Lana stepped towards him again, her throat throbbing red with his finger marks.
“I’m not embarrassed.” He sounded so infantile, brat like almost.
“Oh yeah? Because you sound it. What you’re a big enough man to rape someone but you can’t talk about the details?” Lana laughed.
“I can give you details. What do you want to know that you haven’t already found out for yourself?” Lana flew across the table picking up a snooker ball in her hand and slamming it into Ben’s shocked face, he screamed and threw his hands around his head as they tumbled to the floor.
“What the hell is going on?” A voice boomed out, Lana felt a pair of hands grab her roughly around the waist and hoist her to her feet, Ben rolled around on the floor moaning.
“I’ll kill you!” She screamed pressing to get back at him.
“Lana!” It was her father who had grabbed her. “You need to calm down!” He struggled with her backwards out of the room where his wife was rushing towards him.
“Where’s my baby?” She howled and darted through the door.
“You knew!” Lana freed herself from his grip, he stood back and held his hands up, his suit torn at the arm.
“Let’s go into my office and talk.” He gestured to a door on his left.
“There is nothing to say. You knew what he did to her and you covered it up!” Lana broke into sobs.
“He’s my son.” Her father said moving forwards.
“Don’t touch me!” She screamed. “Your son is going to be in jail for a long time.” She wiped at her face and edged towards the stairs.
“Let it go Lana, there’s no evidence nothing is going to change that. We only just found each other, don’t let one girl affect that.” He held his hands out to her.
“Are you kidding?” Lana stared at him, he shoved his hands back by his sides and opened his mouth to speak again but she cut him off. “You know what, I don’t want to know.” She paused listening to the wailing coming from the snooker room. “She’s pregnant.” Her father’s face seemed to spasm.
“Impossible. The files said she couldn’t conceive.” He scoffed.
“I assure you, she is pregnant.” Lana smiled. “When the baby is born a DNA test will show your son is the father and then what? A lot of questions will be asked and we both know all these lies and cover ups will come undone and all that will be left exposed is a spoilt little rapist and his sneaky fucking father.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Lana rolled the edge of the key between her fingers, it felt so familiar even though it hadn’t been used for years. She shivered and glanced at her watch, twenty past eight, either Miranda was already inside or she wasn’t coming, either way it was too cold to sit outside any longer. Lana slipped the key into the lock and opened the door, a long sloping staircase met her directly inside with a black solid door at the top. She closed the outer door and spun the other key from the loop into her hand, staring upwards. A memory came back to her, falling against the black door, tears mixed with the blood that was dripping from her mouth, crying out Miranda’s name as she had banged against the wood. The last time she had been here. She took a deep breath and climbed the stairs not pausing to give herself the chance to back away she fitted the other key into the lock and cranked open the door.
“Miranda?” She called stepping onto the ash grey wooden floor. She paused listening as she closed the door but there was only silence. Lana threw the keys onto a sideboard and stepped into the living room her hand snaking up the wall with familiarity to press on the light switch. A soft golden glow sprung from the two round fittings on the ceiling, everything was just the same, black couch with the thick grey throw, the same glass topped coffee table with the chip in the corner from where Miranda had slammed a cup down during an argument, everything was identical apart from one new photo frame containing a grainy picture. Lana moved across the room and picked it up, she smiled despite herself as she remembered the moment it had been taken. On the porch swing of her mother’s house, Miranda was lying fully stretched out across it her hand dangling over the edge resting on the shoulder of a much younger Lana who was leaning her head back to look up at the other woman adoringly. Each had a glass of dark red wine in their hand, Lana a cigarette in her other, there was no mistaking the look passing between them. Lana sighed and replaced the picture, how could her mother not have known for so long? A key sounded in the lock.
“I’m sorry I’m late.” Miranda banged the door closed behind her and bustled into the room. “It was a bit of a struggle to get away.”
“I’m
sure you thought of an adequate lie.” Lana dropped onto the couch. “What is it you need to speak to me about?” She asked.
Miranda seemed to freeze for a moment, her mouth moved a little but nothing came out.
“What?” Lana spat.
“Nothing. It’s just seeing you here.” Miranda sat herself down in the only armchair opposite.
“Does it remind you of what a self-centred bitch you are?” Lana said sweetly.
“Something along those lines.” Miranda sighed and reached for a bag she had carried in with her pulling out a bottle of wine. “Drink?” She stood and moved out of sight, Lana closed her eyes and exhaled deeply listening to the cupboard doors open and close and the jangle of the corkscrew being taken off the rack. Miranda returned and poured the liquid into two large glasses.
“I’m driving.” Lana stated.
“One will be fine.” Miranda pushed the glass towards her.
“New picture I see.” Lana sipped the wine and twirled the stem of the glass in between her hands.
“Yes, I found it in an old book, I think I’d used it as a page mark. It’s one of my favourites I must admit.” She smiled as she looked over at the frame.
“I think I was about eighteen there.” Lana said pointedly.
“I think you loved me there.” Miranda countered quickly.
“I did love you. I’ve never denied that, I never denied you, it was you who did the hiding.” Lana placed the glass on the table and crossed her arms.
“I’m married, I have kids what was I supposed to do? Tell them all that the girl who spent summer holidays in our cabin was sleeping with their mother and wife?” She snapped.
“Yes that’s exactly what you should have done. You could have left him, you could have chosen me! It makes it worse because it’s not even as if you are in love with him, you hate him and let’s be honest your kids were in boarding school so much of the time seeing them at weekends wouldn’t have been so different from what you did anyway.” Lana settled herself, embarrassed by how much it still hurt.
“Ellie thinks of you as a big sister Lana, how could I tell her?” Miranda sighed.
“But it wasn’t weird enough to you having a daughter eight years younger than me, to stop you sleeping with me! You found an answer to that dilemma well enough.” Lana barked.
“She was a ten year old child Lana! It would have broken her heart.” Miranda said desperately.
“Yeah and you were a thirty year old woman, playing me from when I was sixteen making sure I wouldn’t ever look in any other direction but yours, I’m pretty sure it’s called grooming now.” Lana took a swig of her wine.
“You know it wasn’t like that.” Miranda whispered turning her head away. “I fell in love with you.” Her voice cracked. “You were so beautiful, the first day I saw you when your mother invited me to the house, you came across the porch in those denim cut offs with a bottle of red wine and that ebony hair and you just took my breath away.” Lana snorted but Miranda continued. “It’s true! I had no idea how old you were, you were drinking, smoking, your mother didn’t say a word I guessed you must be at least twenty one.”
“Enough reminiscing you remember things selectively Miranda, you always have. What do you need to talk to me about?” Lana said in a bored tone, she smoothed back a piece of hair.
“I think you should stay away from your father.” Miranda began.
“No shit!” Lana laughed harshly.
“What happened to your throat?” Miranda asked suddenly. She placed her glass down and moved to the side of Lana where she began inspecting the bruising around her neck, Lana pulled back at the contact but Miranda merely followed her movement and continued turning her head from side to side.
“I had a bit of a run in with Ben.” She muttered finally pulling away.
“Jesus Lana, stay away from them! They are bad news. He always has been.” Miranda huffed and moved back across to her chair picking up her wine glass on the way.
“Always has been?” Lara queried. “You knew who he was all this time?”
“I knew him but I didn’t know he was your father until recently. He is a terrible human being Lana, I mean he is ruthless, he stops at nothing to get what he wants, money is no object he can buy people’s time and services.” She took a swig from the glass.
“I am well aware of that now.” Lana nodded.
“No I don’t think you are.” Miranda shook her head. “Mrs Taylor wasn’t the first person to be hushed up by them, it doesn’t just apply to Ben either your father has had plenty of his own tracks to cover. One girl was seventeen, she went to the police stating that he and two of his friends had drugged and raped her, it had lasted two days, she described the inside of his house, the layout the décor, everything. No charges were ever brought.”
“Why hasn’t it been stopped surely he can’t silence everyone?” Lana shouted, anger bubbling into tears. “And if you knew this about him why did you tell me who he was?”
“His father, your grandfather, sent him to America. He hoped a new place, new people, might make a change. He came back as soon as he died.” Miranda topped up her glass. “He took over the firm.”
“The firm?” Lana queried.
“Yes, money laundering, protection, drugs, it’s how he’s made so much money.” Miranda nodded.
“You are kidding right?” Lana almost laughed but Miranda’s face remained fixed.
“Well. They aren’t going to be able to cover this one up for too much longer.” Lana fought back the sickening wave of emotion as Rebecca’s face formed in her mind once more. “She’s pregnant.”
“Sorry? Mrs Taylor?” Miranda spluttered.
“Yep.” Lana nodded trying to look impassive.
“It must be her husband’s surely?”
“No. It’s Ben’s. So when it’s born there will be proof that he lied, that he did it.” Lana drained her wine glass.
“Lana you didn’t tell him did you?” Miranda edged forwards in her seat. “Oh God please tell me you didn’t tell Ben that she’s pregnant?”
“You should have seen the look on his smug face.” Lana grinned.
“You have no idea what you’ve done do you?” Miranda was murmuring, her hand raised to her mouth, eyes focused into the distance.
“What do you mean?” Lana frowned.
“Haven’t you listened to anything I have said to you?” She moaned placing her head in her hands. “There is no way they will risk anything bringing them into the spotlight. There is no way he will let this go.”
“There is nothing he can do.” Lana stammered but even as she said it a heavy leaden feeling seemed to creep over her bones.
“Yes there is.” Miranda sighed deeply. “There is no way on earth that baby will ever be born.”
A key jangled in the door making both women jump.
“I didn’t think anyone else had keys to this place?” Lana questioned in a whisper.
“They don’t!” Miranda hissed back.
A tall suited man stumbled into the room, his tie slightly awry and loosened at the top, he swayed a little and looked from one face to the other his cheeks reddened from the cold.
“My darling wife!” He exclaimed throwing up his hands. “It would seem I’m either too late or just in time.” He ogled Lana a mixture of desire and hatred in his eyes.
“Frank what are you doing here?” Miranda stepped forwards as Lana stood and pulled on her coat.
“What a charming little place.” He pushed the door closed behind him barring the way. “Funny how I’m not supposed to know it exists.” He pushed a finger to his lips.
“You’re drunk.” Miranda tried to prize him from the door but he pushed her away roughly.
“You, all this time it was you!” He pointed a wavering arm towards Lana. “I thought it was a man, very clever, never suspected a woman.” He laughed more to himself than anyone else.
“I really need to go.” Lana stated looking at Miranda.
&nbs
p; “Frank move out of the way.” She pulled at him again.
“One moment.” He fixed Lana in his stare. “Answer me honestly if you would be so kind, are you sleeping with my wife?”
“No.” Lana held his gaze, her emerald eyes almost sympathetic.
“Frank….” Miranda began.
“I’m not addressing you am I!?” He bellowed, spit flying from his quivering upper lip. “Were you sleeping with her?” He added turning back to Lana.
“Yes.” She answered solidly.
“How long?” He seemed a little thrown off by the rapid reply.
“For the best part of seventeen years.” Lana reached into her pocket and pulled out a cigarette. “May I?” She flicked her eyes to Miranda who was shrinking into the wall.
“Can I have one of those?” Frank stumbled further into the room.
“Sure.” Lana held out the one she had just lit and reached for another.
“Why did you stop? Was she paying you?” He asked before taking a long pull, there was no malice in the question only confusion.
“No I didn’t pay her!” Miranda barked.
“It stopped naturally.” Lana tapped the ash into the empty wine glass. “As with most things it just came to an end.”
“Did you love her?” This time he looked at Miranda. There was a pause before she looked up, not at her husband but at the beautiful woman beside him.
“Yes.” She sobbed. “I still do.”
“What about you?” He flung his head around to where Lana stood.
“I did love her, she broke my heart, it mended and I stopped loving her a long time ago.” She held his gaze until he seemed satisfied and turned away. “I really have to go.” She stood up and headed to the hall, Miranda shadowing her the whole way.
“Well if it’s not you, then forgive me, but who do you keep rushing here to meet?” Frank turned around towards them. “I know you come here a few times each week, the neighbours told me. Apparently there’s always a girl shortly before or after you arrive.”
Lana laughed. “I think that’s a question you need to speak to your wife about Frank, because I have no idea.”
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