The Braille Club (The Braille Club #1)

by J. A. Kerr

  People began to arrive, with many Braille members amongst them. Some guest’s hands received a stamp with a little bell, only visible under ultraviolet light. The DJ was on the far side of the room, his music a clever mix of old and new. Waiters circulated with complimentary champagne, seating guests around tables or directing them to the restaurant. The room filled with laughter and the distinctive pop of champagne corks. There were four evenly spaced pillars on the floor, creating a medium sized space which had two rows of strange looking chairs facing each other on the floor. Many of the members registered on the guest list were awarded drink tokens, redeemable at the bar.

  Siena sat observing the scene; her creation had come to life before her eyes, although she was nowhere near the club. The twins had remained in hospital for seven weeks. Siena’s body had gradually recovered from Nick’s brutal attack and the trauma of childbirth. Refused bail, he remained in custody, the only thing that allowed Siena to sleep at night.

  She realised it was Benedict’s love that had set her free. It had broken Nick’s hold over her and at last she could see him clearly. It had started with waking up in the hospital in Marbella, with her feelings conflicted; her apparent love for Nick just didn’t compare to how she felt about Benedict. Slowly she grew to hate her husband and his demands while falling hard for Benedict.

  Nick’s legal team had been relentless in their demands for a DNA test. He would need to wait. The prosecution assured Siena their case was strong. The charge of attempted murder was a serious one, but of course Nick had anticipated this, entering a not guilty plea on grounds of ‘diminished responsibility.’ She knew how she would be painted; her character assassinated in the trial as they tried to expose her affair and subsequent pregnancy. They would argue she had deceived Nick and of course they would be right, but they would need to prove it.

  Nick’s ex-wife had been very helpful to their case, and had agreed to be a witness; it was compelling testimony.

  During the attack in the hospital, Siena had used every ounce of her strength to resist Nick’s hypnosis. Like any mother she’d played along to protect her children, their lives depended on her, and it had worked until Nick had seen the police.

  She rubbed her tired eyes and looked at the other monitor showing two sleeping babies and her heart dissolved. She knew she should be sleeping as well but didn’t want to miss the club’s opening night. Her parents had been wonderful. In fact, they all had, Alexander and Ava popped round to see them regularly, their love still new and fresh. Ellie had been a little put out at first; she didn’t like the idea of competition for her brother’s affections but she quickly became smitten with the twins. Lastly was Benedict’s hesitant father, ready to leave at any minute should Benedict change his mind. Appalled, Siena made him explain his actions. She listened, her heart breaking for the lost boy he had been and the failings he had endured.

  She begged him to reconcile with his step-mother, saying how hard it must have been for her too. Benedict was still considering this, his step-mother visiting the twins in his absence, but it was a start.

  The twins and Benedict were the only things that kept her sane. They were closer than ever, the assault and the birth having forged a special bond. Busy with the twins, she had little time to dwell on the attack. Surviving on a few hours’ sleep a day made her crave it. She thought she would be haunted by Nick, by his fingers squeezing the life out of her, but felt relief when she fell into a deep sleep as soon as her head hit the pillows. The only thing to wake her was the cries of her babies.

  Her parents had been helping her with the twins for the last few weeks as she worked with Benedict to get the club finished. Her mother instinctively gave Siena her place, never questioning her decisions and following methods which were often different than her own without query.

  Siena, Benedict, and Guy thought long and hard about where to hold their first Braille session. She looked back to the club monitors, amazed at how busy the room was already. People moved on the dance floor, and it filled rapidly, dancing around the chairs placed in the centre as the DJ played a popular tune. Time passed quickly and then she saw the glass begin to move and felt her heart beat a little quicker. Staff gently cleared the area until the four glass walls locked into place. It would take twenty minutes for the room to cool down to comfortable levels. Siena could see Guy standing beside the glass door of the cube. He quickly flashed the UV light on the hand of their first Braille member before she stepped inside and took a seat. More followed as the people on the floor watched while they danced until the room was full.

  The occupants of the room were either seated or standing behind the narrow backed chairs as their anticipation grew. A curious buzz surrounded the cube as people looked inside, wondering why some entered while others were turned away. The tension continued to build and at the stroke of midnight the glass turned opaque, making those inside and out gasp in surprise. Those seated followed Guy’s instruction to reach down the side of their chairs and pull out the heavy silk hoods, the charged air electric as they slipped them over their heads, plunging the wearers into the dark…in order to see the light.

  Epilogue

  THE BRAILLE CLUB

  London, 2014

  Nick

  Nick Waters sat in his cell going over the same fantasy in his head and smiled. He was thinking of Siena; he was always thinking of Siena. On remand since his arrest, his bail denial gave him long hours with nothing to fill his mind except his need for revenge. His Q.C. had been skilled, but the prosecution’s photographs of Siena’s battered face and damaged neck were damning, the finger mark bruising on her delicate skin telling the story better than any lawyer, and it had hurt his case badly. The legal battle over their divorce was still ongoing.

  The endless medical evidence detailing the damage the assault caused to the victim was hard to ignore. From her bruised windpipe to her fractured cheekbone, they’d left nothing to chance. More photographs followed for the jury to pore over. He felt the case was like a giant set of scales, dipping one day in his favour and the next day in hers.

  The jury was shocked and sympathetic to learn he had not known of the pregnancy, concerned Siena had not informed her lawyers of her condition throughout their divorce proceedings. The prosecution’s expert witness’ testimony that, in her opinion, the brutal attack carried out on the victim most definitely contributed to the onset of premature labour, thus endangering the health of the victim and her unborn babies had the scales tipping again.

  The prosecution showed premeditation, as traces of the drug he had administered were found in Siena’s bloodstream, the damage to the babies unknown. The scales dipped further in Siena’s favour.

  His legal team battled on, presenting him as a highly successful professional who had experienced a moment of insanity as a direct result of his wife’s betrayal. They refused to accept the divorce was legal until the paternity results had been ascertained. This was the centre of their defence. Nick wasn’t interested if the babies were his or not; he strongly suspected they weren’t but he needed the proof. This evidence would show Siena to be an adulterer and a liar, reinforcing his plea of ‘diminished responsibilities.’ What husband wouldn’t react to that kind of betrayal? It would damage her credibility, tarnish her clean cut image, but most of all, it would scare her.

  He wanted to scare her; hurt her, it’s what kept him focused. She couldn’t be certain that he wasn’t the father, a thought he enjoyed and the law would make her comply with the DNA tests. It was his legal right, he reflected with satisfaction.

  He sensed the way to hurt Siena and that bastard Harrison was through those kids. They were the key, and he would use any weakness they had to his advantage. His first wife’s testimony enraged him, although his team had disclosure on all the prosecution’s witnesses, they had underestimated the damage she could do.

  She appeared fragile and petite, nervous, her voice filled with emotion as she told the jury about their life and how it had fallen apar
t when she couldn’t get pregnant. A tear rolled down her face as she told of her increasing fear of her husband’s moods and unreasonable behaviour. How he refused to consider even going to a fertility clinic. She became exhausted and frightened by Nick, and it all came to a head when she asked for a divorce. Her face twisted in fear as she recalled that night, stating quite clearly she thought he was going to kill her.

  His Q.C. was on his feet, his objection loud in the devastating silence of the courtroom. She was right, of course. He had thought about killing her, the temptation had been almost overwhelming, in fact. Squeezing the life out of the stupid bitch would have been so easy, but he hadn’t.

  He regretted that now; she should have stayed away, but no, here she was poking her nose into his life. He’d make her pay; after all, he had time to think and time to plan. His mind drifted as he fantasized about doing it. He saw himself crossing the courtroom, climbing into the witness box, and putting his hands around that fragile neck, felt his fingers tighten and squeeze as he saw the panic in her eyes and felt the power of her life in his hands. He squeezed harder, enjoying the frantic pleading in her eyes until he saw the light in them dim and fade as sheer euphoria enveloped him.

  His face showed no emotion. All those years of training not to react to his patients’ confidentialities had paid off. He only had two faces now, placid and remorseful, and he used them with skill throughout the trial. His Q.C. did as much damage control as he could. The witness must stick to the facts; there was no evidence to support her statement. Although the prosecution had already withdrawn her question, he felt the scales tipping over.

  He thought about Harrison and his face twitched. He now knew he was a twin and things finally made sense; his gut had been right all along. It took self-control to keep his explosive hatred of this man hidden when he saw him in the public gallery. He would be giving evidence against him soon. This would perhaps be the most damning testimony as he was a witness to the actual crime in question. He had been the hero dragging Nick away…before, the prosecution would argue, he killed Siena.

  His defence had been pressing for the DNA results. They needed this information to prepare for the cross examination of the prosecution’s star witness, but they remained elusive. Nick’s legal right to request a DNA test was challenged by Siena’s lawyers. A separate court battle was now raging, and Nick’s team were requesting a motion for continuance until the matter was settled.

  But as it transpired, Siena’s legal team lost, and she was compelled to carry out the tests by the courts. The results arrived simultaneously to both parties. Nick Waters’ lawyer pulled at the contents and scanned it quickly. He smiled and punched the air.

  ***

  Siena

  Siena’s hand shook as she slipped her fingers beneath the seal, holding her breath as her heart hammered loudly in her ears. She slowly pulled the sheet of paper out and started to read. She gasped…the results would play a huge part in setting both parties free.

  COMING SOON…

  The Braille Club II

  Chapter 1

  The Braille Club, London, One Year On. The Braille Bible had updated as new zones and experiences evolved. New rules came with new zones. Pages were blank except for a series of dots. The first page contained the Braille alphabet. The second page contained Braille numbers, one to ten. All members would need to learn this method of communication…the language of Braille was the language of touch. They would have to learn quickly. Security at the club was tighter than ever, and those dots were the key to their entry.

  Siena

  Siena walked into the kitchen and clicked on the coffee machine. This was her favourite part of the morning. She could indulge in a coffee while the twins took their nap and read over some work related items. Harrison’s, the club she and Benedict had opened was doing well, but it was the development of their shared passion that interested her; the secret Braille Club. It operated from within Harrison’s, an exclusive private members club within the heart of Westminster. Siena had been instrumental in financing the ambitious project, and Benedict had completed Phase 1 and 2 of the current renovations.

  Members had access to Caligo, the in-house nightclub, now the hottest venue in London, and with Phase 1 and 2 complete; they had a full range of leisure facilities. Their manager, Guy Walker, reported both sides of the business were doing well, and Siena, a trained accountant, could see that reflected in the figures. She heard the post drop to the floor. She flipped through it, separating the junk from the more important mail when she stopped at the official looking white envelope. Her heart thumped…was it the DNA results? Her hands shook, was she ready for this? She knew this letter contained critical information that would not only shape the rest of her life…but was central to the court case against Nick.

  She needed time to compose herself and poured her coffee before reaching for the cookie jar. The routine calmed her heart rate as she took a sip of coffee and a bite of cookie. Her gaze fixed on the envelope in front of her, all coherent thought gone as her stomach did a somersault. That letter contained the evidence that would put her mind at rest and sever Nick from her life forever.

  Her coffee and cookie finished, she checked her watch. The twins wouldn’t sleep for much longer; her gaze strayed to the envelope that felt like a ticking bomb. She realised she couldn’t put it off any longer, but still she didn’t move. She felt frightened all the time now, it made her immobile and today was no different. Anger surged through her; she hated what she had become, what he had done to her. Squaring her shoulders, she reached for the envelope and ripped it open. With a deep breath she pulled the paper out and read. Yes, it was as she thought; the letter containing the DNA results. Her hands trembled as she read then reread the letter; her mind refused to accept what her eyes were seeing.

  “No,” she gasped as tears of shock welled in her eyes. Sienna couldn’t breathe; as if fingers were squeezing at her throat, and her mind struggled to comprehend what was happening. Gasping, her breathing became more and more erratic; she hunted for a bag as the panic attack took hold. Hyperventilating, she crashed around the kitchen in utter panic.

  She located a bag; shaking all over she snatched it up and breathed in and out in rapid bursts as her heart pumped furiously in protest. She sensed the attack would be severe, and her panic swelled to dangerous levels. Sweat and distress seeped from every pore.

  Nick was in her head now, and her terror was absolute. His presence sent Siena’s mind spinning; she recalled the hatred in his eyes as they stared into hers. No longer in control, she felt his fingers tighten painfully around her throat, and a strangled sob escaped her lips. Her windpipe constricted, she dropped the bag and her hands clawed at her throat. Her mind was at breaking point and her body still under attack; she had forgotten everything she had learned to combat these situations. The room was beginning to spin, and she fell backwards as blackness descended.

  Gradually she became aware of a noise; the sound riveted her attention. She slowly opened her eyes as she heard a sharp cry from the baby monitor. It was what saved her; stopped her blacking out again. The sound cut through her fog and fear. Her mothering instinct kicked in, rising above her turmoil as she heard the cry again. The sound forced her to breathe and concentrate; she saw the bag lying next to her on the floor but still could not move. The cries increased. She turned her head and body; pain shot through her as she tried to look at the screen. Unable to see it, the crying became more distressed. Frustrated, her fingers reached for the bag, but there was something wrong with her left arm, it wouldn’t move. Panicked but determined, she secured the bag with her right hand and at last blew into it.

  Siena fought for control as a film of sweat covered her body. Her mind was her enemy now; she had to subdue her demons if she had any chance of getting up and attending to her children. She controlled her breathing, taking in small breaths and letting them out like a sigh. The crying ceased and she twisted again towards the monitor and her heart jumped in fri
ght. Images of Reeva, choking, floated through her head…she was sure it was her crying. She turned onto her right side. The movement made her head swim, but her need to ensure the twins were safe made her reach up and grab the leg of the chair.

  Slowly, painfully, she pulled herself upright and onto her knees, her left shoulder and arm hung uselessly. She rested against the island, the crumpled bag still clutched in her hand, and continued to blow into it; her need to check on the twins making her anxiety worse. Her head hurt, there was blood on the floor and her fingers felt for damage. She winced, and the sight of blood on her fingers made her nauseous and she gagged. Annoyed with herself, she concentrated on getting to the monitor. Moving gradually, her knees shuffled on the floor as she edged around the island, holding onto the granite until she could see it. Ignoring the pain in her shoulder, her prize in sight, she clumsily leaned onto the bar stool for support; her laboured breathing the only sound in the room as the baby monitor remained silent.

  Fear made her push up, using all her strength until she was standing, her legs wobbling at first but more steady now. She propped herself against the worktop and picked up the monitor. The video feed showed the twins asleep, and she let out of sob of relief. She stared at her daughter, searching her face. Reeva, fair skinned, looked angelic with her thumb jammed into her mouth, her white blonde curls framing her face like a halo. Her perfect bow lips were moving as she sucked at her thumb. She had burrowed into the side of her brother, his face turned away as he slept. They were not identical but fraternal twins; Leo had a mop of dark hair, his skin more olive, and a stark contrast to his sister.