Unbound (The Braille Club #2) (23 page)

BOOK: Unbound (The Braille Club #2)
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Chapter 44

 

 

The Braille Club, London, One Year On: Invitations to Harrison’s Masked Ball were being prepared. This event was open to all Harrison’s members. Their clientele was prestigious. It had been held previously in Caligo but this year the upper floors would be utilised. Invitation numbers had increased but not all members would receive one as names were picked at random until the quota was filled.

 

London 2014

Ford

 

Ford burst out of Harrison’s needing to put some distance between himself and Esme. As hard as that was to do, he didn’t want Esme’s reactions towards him to be merely the heat of the moment. Her words that night had floored him; she liked women…so what the fuck was happening between them now?

With no idea where he was going, the cool night air was soothing, and he soon found what he was looking for. The bar was busy as he slipped inside and he welcomed the anonymity it offered. The first sip of his beer was nectar and he drained it quickly while gesturing to the barman for another. He was on his third beer when he realised his phone was ringing. He fumbled for it inside his pocket but it stopped ringing.

“Excuse me,” the voice was behind him.

He turned to see a pretty girl anxiously trying to get the bar staff’s attention.

“Hellooooo,” he bellowed at the top of his voice, startling everyone around him. “This lady would like a drink.”

A barman approached and he graciously let her in front of him. She flashed him a grateful smile, but she wasn’t the only female watching him. His little trick caused quite a stir and several girls were looking his way. The old Ford would have taken advantage, met each girl’s gaze, and made his choice. He should have been in his comfort zone. However, lovesick Ford merely turned away, wanting to drink in peace. Images of Esme crowded his mind as he desperately tried to push them away. He ordered a Rangpur gin and tonic, he was getting into his swing now. Several rounds later, his phone rang again. Esme’s name flashed up on the screen.

“Hellooo,” he slurred.

“Where are you?” she demanded.

“No idea,” he replied.

“Give your phone to the nearest barman,” she ordered.

Ford did as instructed and the surprised girl took the phone. Five minutes later she passed it back to Ford.

“Stay where you are, I’m coming to get you,” Esme instructed, and the phone went dead.

Ford ordered another drink, a bit bemused by Esme’s bossy manner, but his pulse quickened. He could run, but he couldn’t hide forever. Draining his beer in record time, he ordered another for Dutch courage. He had a feeling he would need it.

Sensing her before he saw her, he turned. She stood there, arms crossed, face inscrutable.

“I’ve got a taxi waiting, finish your drink,” she said.

Ford’s emotions for this girl overwhelmed him. “The taxi can wait. Esme, I love you. I’ve loved you from the moment I saw you,” he slurred, his eyes bleary as he struggled to stand. “Spent all this time trying to forget you. Then…you tell me you’re gay, not exactly what a guy wants to hear.” Ford’s voice was loud in a sudden lull in the bar and people were looking at them with interest.

“Will you shut up and get in the taxi,” Esme roared, grabbing Ford’s arm and pushing him forcefully to the door. Her strength surprised him as he allowed himself to be propelled into the waiting taxi.

“Well, it’s true,” Ford huffed. “I thought you would tell me you were married or had ten kids or something, but gay? There’s no coming back from
that
now, is there,” he sulked.

Esme’s face was mutinous. “Why don’t you speak up? I’m sure there’s someone in the capital who hasn’t heard my dirty laundry.”

Ford closed his eyes. “Soz Es—” then promptly fell asleep.

 

***

 

Esme

 

Esme was fuming. How
dare
he embarrass her like that? Bloody men, it served him right, she would just leave him thinking whatever he wanted. If he had listened to her he would have heard her say she didn’t know what she wanted. However, being a typical chauvinist pig, he had labelled her, made everything her fault, and then like a cherry on top, passed out!

Not knowing where he lived, she had no choice but to take him back to her place. She looked at his handsome face. He had come a long way since his apprenticeship days, they both had. She had known he liked her but her life had been hell back then. Ford was looking for a woman to cook his meals and give him babies and that wasn’t her.

She didn’t regret leaving, it was her chance to get out and start a new life. Blaming her shit childhood, no father figure, and alcoholic mother for her inability to form relationships with men, she’d shut Ford out for all of those reasons and more. He was dangerous and…she liked him. With reluctance she’d spurned him because he was everything she hated. Wealthy, opinionated, and arrogant. He assumed he was better than her, better than everyone.

A horrible realisation crept over her. Had she been jealous? She shook her head.
This wasn’t all her fault
, she seethed.
What was he playing at?
Those games in the hotel room, their intimate session at Harrison’s…was it all a bit of fun to him? Had he set her up? His humiliating words at the bar came back to her. God, she wished she’d kept her big mouth shut and bitterly regretted confiding her deepest, darkest secret to Ford, of all people.

His loud snore and the taxi coming to a halt interrupted her musing. She shook his shoulder roughly.

“Ford. Ford, wake up! You need to give the driver your address so he can drop you off,” she shouted.

The taxi driver shook his head. “Sorry, love, but he’s too drunk,” he said, matter of fact.

Shit, thought Esme, what was she going to do? She bunged the driver an extra £30 and between them they pulled a staggering Ford out of the cab, Esme’s wiry frame almost bucking as they careened towards her apartment entrance. Ten sweaty minutes later, Ford was sprawled on her bed out cold, and the driver was beating a hasty retreat down to his cab. Esme was unsure if it was her damsel in distress face or her broad Glaswegian accent that convinced him.

She kicked off her shoes and poured herself a glass of white wine and took a large gulp. Bloody Ford! It was only 11:30 p.m., but she yawned, exhausted by the day’s events and her inner turmoil. She grumpily made her way to her spare room-cum-office, and made up the day bed she never used. Finally she slipped beneath the sheets and closed her eyes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 45

 

 

The Braille Club, London, One Year On: The guest list for the Masked Ball was complete. Hard decisions and compromises had finally been reached. Recipients would receive them in due course and preparations for the event were now underway. The new theme would be announced shortly.

 

London 2014

Niven

 

Niven left Harrison’s. The sense of being watched resumed. She stopped and looked around, her feelings of elation fading as apprehension took over. She scanned the nearby pavements and cars but saw nothing out of the ordinary. She sighed in relief at the headlights of her approaching cab and then she saw it—a blur of movement, a glint of something in the dark.

“You all right, love?” said the cabbie.

Niven nearly screamed in fright.

“Sorry, love, I didn’t mean to startle you,” the cabbie apologised as Niven got into the taxi.

She looked outside, her eyes straining, mind racing as she tried to connect what had happened. She gave the cabbie her address, and he pulled out into traffic while she gazed out of the window.

“I think someone is following me,” she blurted.

“You’re as white as a sheet, love,” said the driver sympathetically. “I’ll keep an eye out, okay?” he said firmly.

Niven sat back, her whole body tense, her fingers clutching at her pendant. Distressed, she replayed events in her mind. She couldn’t put her finger on it. Why was she in a panic? What spooked her? Then her brain revealed the answer. The click, the glint of something in the gloom—a camera. All doubt gone, it confirmed she was being watched and now photographed.

 

***

 

Toby

 

While watching the place he saw a lot of comings and goings from the private carpark. When he saw a clear picture of Harrison with a woman in his car, he’d been excited. She must be Siena, not his type, but he could see she was beautiful. He understood why Nick wanted her back. The recorded images had been encrypted, ready for his pleasure. Nick was impatient and insistent, he wanted a visual badly and now he had it. Toby had delivered his first objective. He grinned, pleased with himself. As always his thoughts strayed to Niven. The image on his camera was well worth the risk of exposure. He stared at her picture, caressing her face with the tip of his knife before he put it down. Reluctantly, he pushed Niven from his mind to concentrate. He was enjoying himself, he realised. People entered and left Harrison’s main doors but Benedict Harrison always left via the carpark. He intended to follow him home tonight and complete his second objective.

 

***

 

Niven

 

Niven arrived at her flat, shaken and distracted. On opening the door she punched in the alarm code. She scooped up the large brown envelope with her usual mix of emotions and put it on the breakfast bar. Another month had slipped by. Her senses and body alight, she had gone from the high of the Braille Club to fear and apprehension. Her anger simmered. Just when something good happened in her life…all her old fears resurfaced. For a time she’d been connected—riding the wave of newfound desire, but that was gone now, only fear remaining. She was so tired of it, tired of being afraid of Toby Fraser. He made her grimace; she would not let him win. She poured herself a glass of white wine and closed her eyes. The Braille session was still vivid in her memory, the experience a revelation. Niven felt stunned by her reaction, she’d left in a daze but the feeling of being watched persisted. Was she being paranoid? The cab driver said there was no one following them. Was her mind playing tricks on her?

The wine helped her relax. Her gaze settled on the envelope and without thinking she ripped it open and poured the contents out. Heart thumping, she opened the first letter and read. Scanning the text quickly, she put it aside for the shredder. She opened another and placed it on the top of the first letter. Disappointed, she poured herself another glass of wine before going back to the task. Wearily, she opened the rest of the letters until only one remained. She wasn’t really paying attention but stopped when she saw the verse. She sat down abruptly, shaking as she read the letter. Everything fitted…the dates, the verse, and the colour of the Bible. It was her mother. She’d finally made contact after all this time.

Overwhelmed, a sob ripped through her. It came from a deep hole in her heart she’d been unaware of. She didn’t see the other letter; it had gotten caught inside the large brown envelope that she had tossed in the bin. She had a good cry but at the end she was smiling through her tears. Her mother had made contact. As she hugged herself, her heart filled with hope.

 

***

 

Toby

 

Toby, cold and stiff, was not happy. Hours wasted watching the parking entrance and still no sign of Harrison or the woman. Cursing, he wondered how much longer he should wait. He stifled a yawn. He was ill-prepared to wait in his car all night; he was hungry and thirsty as well. At 1:00 a.m. he decided to call it a night and come back early next morning. Maybe they were staying inside the place. There was no other explanation.

His fingers were numb as he turned on the engine. He would get some sleep and provisions before resuming surveillance. He was annoyed that he hadn’t planned better, hadn’t thought about warmer clothing, a sleeping bag, perhaps. If only he’d brought a flask and something to eat. He still had a lot to learn, he thought, but hoped Nick Waters would be happy with his achievements today. He’d sent him the encrypted file earlier. Nick wanted visual confirmation as soon as possible. His instructions were specific—avoid detection at all costs. Toby was to keep his distance and never jeopardise his position. However, Nick wasn’t here and Toby had other ideas. He used the latest technology and equipment to observe his favourite girl, but only on his own time. Appeasing Nick came first; his plan depended on the cash Nick sent him. When Toby arrived at Niven’s flat and spotted the cameras and security, he recognised he’d need to rethink his strategy. He could disable the camera given time; he was a quick learner, but breaking in was presenting problems he had no experience with.

Entering his father’s home had been easy. He’d a key for starters, his stepmother had changed the front door lock but he’d had the key for the back door too and their busy work schedule meant the place was often empty during the day. This was not the case with Niven’s flat. After disabling the CCTV, he would need to either break the door down or pick the lock. He had dismissed both ideas. Still on parole, he couldn’t afford to draw attention to himself. Breaking down her door would do that, plus he couldn’t pick locks. That got him thinking; it would be easier if she came to him.

He watched her obsessively when they’d been younger. Fixated, he wanted to know everything about her. Overhearing Clarisse discussing the Bible with his father, he’d been fascinated. Buried amongst her things, it took him a while to find it. He hadn’t given it another thought until he’d stumbled upon an interview Niven gave years ago. Her heartfelt plea to find her birth mother was pathetic but it had given him an idea. It said in the interview there was something contained within the Bible that only her true birth mother would know. He sat racking his brains, thinking hard. He remembered the Bible was old and blue; had opened it, in fact.

He sat and concentrated, searching his memory until he could see it clearly, the inscription and the verse. He was good with detail; his memory had been his greatest comfort while incarcerated.
Footsteps in the Sand
…he remembered reading it and laughing. Did people really believe that shit? He put the Bible back amongst her things and had forgotten all about it until now. An idea took shape in his head. The more he thought about it, the more he liked it. Timing was everything, and he needed a distraction.

Still annoyed he had to leave, he vowed to be back tomorrow as he turned the car around. Nick Waters must wait another day to find out where his beloved Siena lived. He wanted to go directly to Niven’s flat, but that was out of the question. She’d almost seen him earlier this evening, and whereas he was excited to get the shot, he didn’t want to spook her. No, that wouldn’t be the right approach with Niven. All day long she was surrounded by people looking at her, photographing her, he didn’t like it. She was his and his alone. Soon he would have her, but making the right preparations took time. He had to juggle it with his work. The right location was proving harder than anticipated. It must be soundproof for starters, he didn’t want anyone to hear her screams. He knew from experience she could scream. Also it must have facilities. Although used to a small barren cell, he wanted something more homely for Niven.

His stress levels were rocketing with the pressure, but she was worth it. Should he keep Niven incarcerated as long as his prison sentence? That remained to be seen. If he tired of her, he’d rethink. She would suffer though; she’d forced him to kill. Every time he thought of Maria, he became enraged. The stupid bitch had cost him everything. He didn’t regret stabbing her but that she hadn’t suffered more. He wasn’t stupid, Niven was famous, her disappearance would be reported, which was why he needed a distraction for the police to follow. The appearance of her birth mother would provide that. Niven would appear to meet with her and disappear. He would lead the police on a wild goose chase of reported sightings, but he still had much to do.

The camera he’d planted would continue to record, he’d check the feed as soon as he got home. He must prioritise better, make a list of the things he needed and get started. Too much time had been wasted already. He must focus on the tasks at hand and plan properly. Feeling happier, he collected his equipment and headed for the bedsit.

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