Unveiled

by Jodi Ellen Malpas

  end of the line, and I take a quick glimpse of my screen to see if I’ve accidently called someone else, finding I haven’t at all. I take my phone back to my ear. ‘Who’s this?’

  ‘An old family friend. I’m assuming this must be Olivia?’

  I’m sitting up on the couch before I know what’s happened, and I’m standing a split second after that. That voice. My mind is attacked by image after image of him. His scarred face, his thin lips, his eyes that harbour all kinds of evil.

  Charlie.

  Chapter 20

  ‘What are you doing there?’ The blood drains from my head, but I don’t take my seat and begin breathing exercises, which I know damn well I should do. I’m beginning to feel light-headed.

  ‘Well, our lovely chat was cut short earlier, so I thought I’d drop by.’ Iciness oozes from his voice. ‘Sadly, you’re not here. But your grandmother is keeping me entertained. Quite a woman.’

  ‘You lay a finger on her . . .’ I start for the door, energy and purpose blocking my exhaustion. ‘You even breathe on her . . .’

  He laughs, a cold, evil laugh. ‘Why would I ever want to harm such a dear old lady?’

  I’m running now, my legs carrying me out of Miller’s office and through the winding corridors of Ice’s basement. That’s a serious question, and it has an answer. ‘Because it’ll destroy me, and by destroying me, you destroy Miller, too. That’s why.’

  ‘You’re a smart girl, Olivia,’ he says, and then I hear something in the background. Nan. Her chirpy voice stalls my escape and I come to a stop at the top of the stairs, mainly because my pounding feet and heavy breathing are preventing me from hearing what she’s saying. ‘Excuse me,’ Charlie says casually, the line soon becoming muffled. I can only assume he’s holding the phone to his chest. ‘Two sugars, Mrs Taylor,’ he says cheerfully. ‘But, please, take a seat. You shouldn’t be exerting yourself. I’ll see to it.’

  He’s back on the line, breathing hard, as if to tell me he’s there again. Where’s Gregory? My eyes close and I beg everything holy to keep them from harm, my gut twisting with guilt. She isn’t even aware of the danger I’ve put her in. There she is, making tea, asking how many sugars the bastard takes, totally oblivious. ‘Should I ask her to make it three cups?’ Charlie asks, kicking my feet back into action. I run for the exit of Ice. ‘I’ll see you soon, Olivia.’ He hangs up and my dread multiplies by a million.

  Adrenaline is sailing through me, and I throw my weight into yanking the doors open . . . and get nowhere. ‘Open!’ I pull repeatedly, my eyes searching for a lock. ‘Fucking open!’

  ‘Olivia!’ Miller’s worried, stricken tone punches holes in my back, but I don’t give up. I yank and pull, my shoulder jarring repeatedly from my constant, dogged attempts to open the stupid doors.

  ‘Why won’t they open?’ I shout, now shaking them and looking around, not at all averse to throwing something through them in my desperation to get to Nan.

  ‘Damn it, Olivia!’ I’m seized from behind and restrained in his hold, but that adrenaline is still working, and it’s working well. ‘What the hell is wrong with you?’

  ‘Open the door!’ I lash out, kicking back.

  ‘Fuck!’ Miller yelps, and I expect to be released, but he just increases his hold around my chest, battling with my flailing body parts. ‘Calm down!’

  I can’t see calm. It’s nowhere to be found. ‘Nan!’ I scream, launching myself from his arms and colliding with the glass doors. Pain sears through my head, followed by the sharp curses of Miller and William.

  ‘Enough!’ Miller spins me around and pins me to the sheet of glass by my shoulders. Wide blues eyes run a quick scan of my head, then focus on the despairing tears that have now burst from my welling eyes. ‘Tell me.’

  ‘Charlie’s at our house.’ I spit the words out fast, hoping Miller takes them in fast and then takes me home fast. ‘I called to check on Nan and he answered.’

  ‘Fucking hell!’ William says, stepping forward urgently. Miller might look stunned, but my broken information has settled perfectly well with William. ‘Open the fucking door, Hart.’

  Miller seems to shake himself back to life, releasing me to pull some keys from his pocket. The door is opened quickly, I’m guided out quickly, and handed over to William while he locks up. ‘Get her in the car.’ I have no say in the proceedings that follow, and I don’t want any. Both men are working fast and urgently, and I’m good with that.

  I’m bundled in the back of Miller’s car, ordered to put my belt on and William is in the passenger seat in no time, shifting to look over his shoulder. A serious, almost deadly look is pointing right at me. ‘Nothing will happen to her. I won’t let it.’

  I believe him. It’s easy to, because through all of this heartache and torment, one thing is obvious, and that’s the feelings both William and Miller have for my grandmother. They love her, too. I swallow and nod, just as the driver’s door swings open and Miller falls into the seat.

  ‘You OK to drive?’ William asks, giving Miller a wary glance.

  ‘Perfect.’ He starts the car, rams it into first, and we’re skidding away from the kerb faster than is safe. Miller drives like a demon. Under normal circumstances, I’d be holding on for dear life, maybe even telling him to slow the hell down, but these aren’t normal circumstances. Time is of the essence. I know it, William knows it, and Miller knows it. After listening to each man talk about Charlie, plus the added bonus of having had the pleasure of his company myself, there’s no element of doubt in my mind that any threats he makes – directly or indirectly – will be seen through. This is a man with no morals, heart, or conscience. And he’s currently sipping a good old cup of English tea with my beloved Nan. My bottom lip begins to tremble and Miller’s manic driving suddenly isn’t fast enough. I look up to the rearview mirror when I feel the familiar sensation of blue eyes burning into me, finding fear reflecting back at me. His brow is a sheen of wet. I can see he’s desperately trying to instil some calm into me, but he’s fighting a losing battle. He can’t conceal his own dread, so trying to ease mine is pointless.

  It takes years to weave the streets of London towards home. Miller performs endless illegal manoeuvres – reversing out of traffic-jammed roads and driving up one-way streets, constantly cursing profusely while William points out shortcuts.

  When we finally screech to a stop outside my house, my belt is off and I’m running up the path, leaving the car door open behind me. I only vaguely register two pairs of dress shoes pounding after me, but I’m more than aware of strong arms capturing me and lifting me from my feet. ‘Olivia, hold your horses.’ Miller speaks quietly, and I know why. ‘Don’t let him see your distress. He feeds off fear.’

  I wriggle from Miller’s arms and press the tips of my fingers firmly into my forehead, trying to push some sensibility past the fog of panic that’s rampant in my mind. ‘My keys,’ I blurt. ‘I haven’t got my keys.’

  William almost laughs, drawing my attention to him. ‘Do your thing, Hart.’

  I frown as I look to Miller, seeing him reach into his inside pocket on a roll of his eyes. ‘I told you we needed to sort out security here,’ he grumbles, producing a credit card.

  ‘Nan probably just invited him in!’ I snap, but he doesn’t bless me with a disdainful look; he just goes about slipping the card past the wood by the lock and jiggling it slightly, putting some weight behind him. It’s two seconds flat before the door is open, and I’m pushing past Miller.

  ‘Whoa!’ He catches me again and pins me to the wall in the recess of the front door. ‘Damn it, Olivia. You can’t just go charging in there like a tank!’ He’s speaking on a hushed whisper, holding me in place with one hand while slipping his card back into his pocket.

  ‘OK, let’s just wait until we hear her screaming, shall we?’

  ‘Just like her mother,’ William mutters, pulling my outraged eyes away from Miller. His eyebrows are raised in a Yes, you heard me right kind of way; th
en his head cocks to follow that up with a You going to argue with that? look. I hate him.

  ‘Get me to my nan,’ I grate, burning through William’s powerful presence with fiery eyes.

  ‘Lock down that sass, Livy,’ Miller warns. ‘Now isn’t the time.’ He releases me and sets about the ridiculous task of straightening me out, except now I don’t let him find the calm he’s seeking through perfecting me. I bat him away, hating myself when I take over his stupid ways by finishing what he started. I brush my hair from my face and straighten my dress. Then my hand is claimed and I’m pulled through the front door.

  ‘Kitchen,’ I tell him, pushing him down the hallway. ‘He was going to make tea.’ Just as I utter the information, a loud crash rings out and travels down the corridor towards us. I jump, Miller curses, and William pushes his way past us before I can send the instructions to my legs to move. Miller takes off after him, as do I, every fear amplifying.

  I fall into the kitchen, colliding with Miller’s back, before putting myself in front of him. Gazing around the open space, I see nothing, only William staring blankly at the floor. My eyes are rooted on him, watching for any further facial expressions or reactions, my mind not prepared to confront what has his attention.

  ‘Drat!’ Nan’s polite curse creeps past the wall of fear and has my eyes slowly travelling to the floor, where she’s on her hands and knees with a dustpan and brush, sweeping up scattered sugar and a broken dish.

  ‘Give it to me!’ A pair of hands appear from nowhere, wrestling with her fingers. ‘I told you, you silly old woman. I’m in charge!’ Gregory snatches the pan from Nan’s hand and turns exasperated eyes onto William. ‘All right, geezer?’

  ‘Fine,’ William replies, looking back and forth between Nan and Gregory. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘She –’ Gregory points the dustpan’s brush at Nan, and she knocks it away – ‘won’t do as she’s told. Get her up, will you?’

  ‘For the love of God!’ Nan cries, slapping her palms on her lap. ‘Put me back in that prison they call a hospital because you lot are driving me crackers!’

  My body feels like it’s turned to mush from the overwhelming sense of relief. I cast my eyes to Gregory. He’s giving William a look. A serious look. ‘You should get her settled.’

  William snaps into action, scooting down to collect Nan. ‘Come on, Josephine.’

  I feel a bit useless as I watch him help Nan from the floor. I’m relieved, confused, worried. It’s like he was never here. I didn’t imagine that call, and I definitely didn’t imagine Nan’s chirpy tone in the background. If it wasn’t for the telling look that Gregory just chucked at William, I would be questioning my sanity. But I caught that look. He was here. But he just left? Gregory looks shaken, so why the hell doesn’t Nan look like she’s been terrorised?

  I flinch when I feel a soft warmth brushing up my arm, and look down to see Miller’s perfect hand cupping my bare elbow. It’s only now I wonder where the telling signs of internal fireworks have gone. It’s been too long since I’ve felt them. They’ve been drowned out by too much fretfulness. ‘Maybe you should,’ Miller says, bringing me back into the kitchen where Nan is now on her feet with William’s arm around her shoulder.

  I cough the lump from my throat and take over for William, leading Nan away, while I’m sure Gregory will be filling William and Miller in on the events that have recently transpired. As we enter the room and settle on the sofa, I notice the TV on mute. It spikes a clear mental image of her sitting on the couch with the control in her hand, listening when Gregory answered the door to Charlie.

  ‘Nan, was someone else here with you a little bit ago?’ I set about tucking blankets in around her, refusing to meet her eyes.

  ‘You must think I’m as daft as a brush.’

  ‘Why’s that?’ I curse myself for inviting her to tell me exactly why. I’m the daft one here. No one else.

  ‘I might be old, darling girl, but I’m not stupid. All of you think I’m stupid.’

  I rest on the edge of the couch and fiddle with my diamond, looking down at it as I do. ‘We don’t think you’re stupid, Nan.’

  ‘You must.’

  I look out the corner of my eye and see her joined hands resting in her lap. I don’t insult her further by arguing with her. I don’t know what she thinks she knows, but I can guarantee the truth is a whole lot worse.

  ‘Those three men in there are talking about my guest. Probably figuring out a way to get rid of him.’ She pauses and I know she’s waiting for me to face her. But I don’t. I can’t. Just that little titbit of her conclusion has stunned me and I know she’s not done yet. I don’t need her to see my wide eyes. I’ll only be confirming her thoughts. ‘Because he’s threatened you.’

  I gulp and close my eyes, my ring spinning around and around on my finger.

  ‘Charlie is his name, nasty son of a bitch,’ she says.

  I turn to Nan, horrified. ‘What did he do to you?’

  ‘Nothing.’ She reaches forward and takes my hand, squeezing some reassurance into me. Strangely, it works. ‘You know me, Olivia. Ain’t anyone who can play the sweet old ignorant lady like me.’ She smiles a little, drawing one from me. It’s ridiculous that we’re smiling, given the awful situation we’re in. ‘Daft as a brush, me.’

  I’m staggered by her coolness. She’s bang on the money with her assumptions, and I don’t know whether to be thankful or horrified. Yes, there are a few gaps – gaps I’m not about to fill in – but she has the basic outline. She doesn’t need to know any more than that. I don’t want to do something so stupid as to elaborate on her dotted conclusion, so I remain quiet, contemplating where I go from here.

  ‘I know so much more than I’d like you to believe, my darling girl. I’ve worked so hard to keep you from the dirt of London, and I’m so very sorry that I’ve failed.’

  My brow creases as she works soothing circles into the top of my hand. ‘You know about that world?’

  She nods and takes a deep breath. ‘The moment I clapped eyes on Miller Hart, I suspected he might be connected. William appearing from nowhere when you ran off to America only confirmed it.’ She studies me, and I recoil, shocked at her confession. She pushed Miller and me together. The dinner, everything, she encouraged it all, but she goes on before I can question her motives. ‘But for the first time in forever, I saw your eyes come to life, Olivia. He gave you life. I couldn’t take that away from you. I’d seen that look in a girl before, and I lived through the devastation when it was taken away from her. I’m not going through that again.’

  My heart starts to free-fall into my tummy. I know what she’s going to say next and I’m not sure if I can bear to hear it. My eyes begin to fill with painful tears as I silently beg for her to finish right there.

  ‘That girl was your mother, Olivia.’

  ‘Please, stop,’ I sob, trying to get to my feet and escape, but Nan takes a firm hold of my arm and pulls me back down. ‘Nan, please.’

  ‘These people have taken all of my family from me. They’re not taking you as well.’ Her voice is strong and determined. Unwavering. ‘Let Miller do what he needs to do.’

  ‘Nan!’

  ‘No!’ She yanks me closer and grabs my cheeks, squeezing them harshly. ‘Take your head out of the sand, my girl. You have something to fight for! I should have said this to your mother and I didn’t. I should have said it to William, but I didn’t.’

  ‘You know?’ I choke, wondering what she might hit me with next. I’m being bombarded with too much information for my little mind to deal with.

  ‘Of course I know!’ She looks frustrated. ‘I also know that my baby girl is back and no bleeder has had the decency to tell me!’

  I fly back on the couch in shock, my plummeted heart now sprinting up to my throat. ‘You . . .’ I can’t get my words out. I’m utterly gobsmacked. I’ve grossly underestimated my grandmother. ‘How . . .’

  She settles back against her pillow, all calm, wh
ile I remain stuck to the back of the sofa, searching my mind for something to say. Anything.

  Nothing.

  ‘I’m going to take a nap,’ she says, beginning to get cosy, like the past five minutes haven’t happened. ‘And when I wake up, I want everyone to stop treating me like I’m stupid. You can leave me in peace.’ Her eyes close and I instantly take the cue – worried of the repercussions if I don’t. Gradually lifting my lifeless body from the couch, I start to back out of the lounge, faltering once, twice, three times, thinking maybe we should talk more. But to talk, I need to form words, and none are coming to me. I quietly pull the door closed and stand in the hallway, wiping at my eyes and brushing down my creased dress. I don’t know what to do with any of this. One thing is for sure, though. My head has been well and truly yanked from the sand. I’m not sure whether to be thankful or troubled by her awareness.

  Hushed whispers from the kitchen draw me from my pondering and my feet take off across the carpet, taking me to a situation I’m certain will only add to my mixed-up state. On entering the kitchen, the first sign isn’t good. Miller has his head in his hands at the table and William and Gregory are both leaning against the worktop looking on.

  ‘What is it?’ I ask, filling my voice with strength. I’m not sure who I’m trying to kid.

  Three heads whip around, but it’s Miller who has my attention. ‘Olivia.’ He stands and comes to me. I don’t like that he’s sliding his mask into place, quickly concealing his despair. ‘How is she?’

  His question sends me off into a daze again as I mentally pull together an explanation for how she is. Nothing here is acceptable, except the truth. ‘She knows,’ I utter, worrying that that statement is going to need to be extended. When an inquisitive look jumps onto Miller’s face, that worry is confirmed to be warranted.

  ‘Elaborate,’ he orders.

  I sigh, letting Miller lead me to the kitchen table and sit me down. ‘She knew Charlie wasn’t good news. She knows he has something to do with you two.’ I wave a finger between William and Miller. ‘She knows everything.’ William’s face tells me he already knew that. ‘She’s going to have a snooze now and when she wakes up, she wants everyone to stop treating her like she’s stupid.’