listen to the fists banging on the door.
That must be her.
I close my eyes. How will she do it? With a gun? With a knife? Maybe she’s got a scarf or a rope and she’ll grab me from behind …
‘
Ella, it’s me. Let me in.
’
There’s a crash behind me as the door bursts into the room. I still can’t move.
My eyes snap open and behind me, reflected in the glass, I see Darnley’s face. He spins me round and scowls down at me. He touches my cheek with the back of his finger. ‘Hey. You’re icy. Look at me, Ella. You saw her again?’
I nod, still paralysed.
Now the room is filling up with people. Someone switches on the lights and I blink in the glare.
Darnley starts barking orders to his men, his eyes still fixed on mine. ‘Scour the yard at the back. Check the fire escape. She may be on the roof.’
‘A woman climbed over the back wall, sir. She ran off. No sign of her now.’
‘Bullen?’
‘Sir?’
‘Miss Dean is in shock. Take her back to Lexington and make her a hot drink. I’ll finish up here.’
About twenty minutes later I’m sitting in his vast, steel-lined kitchen and clinging to a cup of hot, sweet tea. Speech is coming slowly back. I even manage to whisper a shy ‘thank you’ as Bullen presses the steaming drink into my hands.
I stare across the room, not really seeing anything.
I want to go somewhere dark and quiet and hide.
Outside a purring engine and the slam of a car door announce Darnley. He strides in and dismisses Bullen with a curt nod.
Now we’re alone.
‘You’re a terrible colour.’
‘Sorry about that,’ I mutter. ‘No time to change it.’ I avoid his eye and take a sip, courage seeping back with the heat of the tea. ‘Can I go home now?’
He draws in a deep breath. ‘Not for a while. She got away. She may be back. I stationed a man there while we change the locks.’ His eyes gleam. ‘Should take a day or two.’
Slowly I raise my eyes to his, my heart shorn of hope. His words in the car have cut me deep. I’m still stunned. ‘Thanks for the rescue. I’m sorry I panicked. I’ll finish my tea and then find a hotel.’
He looks down at me critically for a moment. Very gently, like I’m made of glass, he prises the empty cup out of my hands and sets it down on the table. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. You’ll stay here.’ His voice is low.
‘I can’t do that.’ I can feel his eyes on me and now I start to shiver. I stare obstinately down at the table. I must look dreadful with my sweat-matted hair, pinched grey face and work-tired clothes. It’s been a weird day.
He raises me to my feet, folding his arms around me and locking his hands together at the back of my waist. I shiver again and he clasps me tighter.
‘You’re moving in. Stay here till we get to the bottom of this.’
Feeling’s seeping back into my limbs and at last it reaches my brain; a little late in the day, but just in time to mount a protest. ‘
Here?
I don’t even know where we are. And tomorrow I’ve got to go to work. I’ve got to talk to –’
I break off. Best not remind him.
His expression is stern as his eyes lock on mine. ‘OK, fine. You can go to work, provided you follow my instructions. And tomorrow I’ll explain where you are and we’ll work out your timetable and when and how you travel in and out of town and who goes with you. I’ll even show you a fucking map. But right now you’re going to bed.’
He takes me upstairs and runs a bath, keeping his arm round me the whole time. I’m getting better by the minute. I laugh a little as I wriggle to get away.
‘Hold still. You’re not going anywhere.’ He’s not playing. He sounds grim.
‘I can’t just move in, Darnley.’
‘No? Why not?’ He turns off the faucet and tips in some bath essence. A strong aroma of lilies wafts all around us in the drifts of steam. Now he releases my waist and starts to unfasten my jeans, his fingers urgent, his eyes filling with heat.
He still sounds angry.
That must be her.
I close my eyes. How will she do it? With a gun? With a knife? Maybe she’s got a scarf or a rope and she’ll grab me from behind …
‘
Ella, it’s me. Let me in.
’
There’s a crash behind me as the door bursts into the room. I still can’t move.
My eyes snap open and behind me, reflected in the glass, I see Darnley’s face. He spins me round and scowls down at me. He touches my cheek with the back of his finger. ‘Hey. You’re icy. Look at me, Ella. You saw her again?’
I nod, still paralysed.
Now the room is filling up with people. Someone switches on the lights and I blink in the glare.
Darnley starts barking orders to his men, his eyes still fixed on mine. ‘Scour the yard at the back. Check the fire escape. She may be on the roof.’
‘A woman climbed over the back wall, sir. She ran off. No sign of her now.’
‘Bullen?’
‘Sir?’
‘Miss Dean is in shock. Take her back to Lexington and make her a hot drink. I’ll finish up here.’
About twenty minutes later I’m sitting in his vast, steel-lined kitchen and clinging to a cup of hot, sweet tea. Speech is coming slowly back. I even manage to whisper a shy ‘thank you’ as Bullen presses the steaming drink into my hands.
I stare across the room, not really seeing anything.
I want to go somewhere dark and quiet and hide.
Outside a purring engine and the slam of a car door announce Darnley. He strides in and dismisses Bullen with a curt nod.
Now we’re alone.
‘You’re a terrible colour.’
‘Sorry about that,’ I mutter. ‘No time to change it.’ I avoid his eye and take a sip, courage seeping back with the heat of the tea. ‘Can I go home now?’
He draws in a deep breath. ‘Not for a while. She got away. She may be back. I stationed a man there while we change the locks.’ His eyes gleam. ‘Should take a day or two.’
Slowly I raise my eyes to his, my heart shorn of hope. His words in the car have cut me deep. I’m still stunned. ‘Thanks for the rescue. I’m sorry I panicked. I’ll finish my tea and then find a hotel.’
He looks down at me critically for a moment. Very gently, like I’m made of glass, he prises the empty cup out of my hands and sets it down on the table. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. You’ll stay here.’ His voice is low.
‘I can’t do that.’ I can feel his eyes on me and now I start to shiver. I stare obstinately down at the table. I must look dreadful with my sweat-matted hair, pinched grey face and work-tired clothes. It’s been a weird day.
He raises me to my feet, folding his arms around me and locking his hands together at the back of my waist. I shiver again and he clasps me tighter.
‘You’re moving in. Stay here till we get to the bottom of this.’
Feeling’s seeping back into my limbs and at last it reaches my brain; a little late in the day, but just in time to mount a protest. ‘
Here?
I don’t even know where we are. And tomorrow I’ve got to go to work. I’ve got to talk to –’
I break off. Best not remind him.
His expression is stern as his eyes lock on mine. ‘OK, fine. You can go to work, provided you follow my instructions. And tomorrow I’ll explain where you are and we’ll work out your timetable and when and how you travel in and out of town and who goes with you. I’ll even show you a fucking map. But right now you’re going to bed.’
He takes me upstairs and runs a bath, keeping his arm round me the whole time. I’m getting better by the minute. I laugh a little as I wriggle to get away.
‘Hold still. You’re not going anywhere.’ He’s not playing. He sounds grim.
‘I can’t just move in, Darnley.’
‘No? Why not?’ He turns off the faucet and tips in some bath essence. A strong aroma of lilies wafts all around us in the drifts of steam. Now he releases my waist and starts to unfasten my jeans, his fingers urgent, his eyes filling with heat.
He still sounds angry.
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