Chapter Eleven
Tired but very happy to have made it to Brompton, 'only eighteen more miles', I chirp, dawn has well broken but it's a cloudy greyish, pinkish morning indicating a fresh crop of snow, a flashing red light on the dash grabs my attention, oh the fuel gauge.
'Best fill Roger Range Rover up', I laugh and continue driving to the outskirts of Brompton where I remember there's a twenty four hour petrol station.
Soon I drive into the forecourt, park and slip on my fully dried trainers, I wedged their tongues into the heater vents which did the trick, rooting in my travel bag I grab my purse and hop out.
Stumped as I don't know where to stick the nozzle of the fuel hose, bollix, I look around for an attendant, none to be found, or customers, I ignore the smarmy grinning teenaged boy looking at me out the window of the shop. Eventually, after searching the flanks of the jeep, I find the flush little door concealing the fuel tank cap, unscrew it and eye the pump's indicator clocking up the monetary value.
With precision I stop at seventeen pounds and forty nine pence as I've only got a twenty note in my purse, trudge into the shop trying not to giggle realising what the boy was grinning about, a deranged looking woman in her pj's.
Tallying up on the cash register the petrol, Mars bar and packet of Walker cheese and onion crisps, 'nice ride luv', he says with a grin.
'Thanks', I hand over the money.
'On the school run', what, blatantly he stares at my boobs, cheeky bloody smartarse.
Red faced, 'yeah', I grab the crisps and Mars bar.
'Luv you put the fuck into MILF ', a smartarsed smirk.
'Keep the change, buy yourself a tube of Clearasil and a smut free mind', I snap and belt it out of the shop.
Packet of crisps savaged, crumbs all over me and the seat, last bite of Mars melting in my mouth, Roger Range Rover is hopping along the south road which joins the east that bypasses Hillingham Village. You realise Ethan will be livid Violet, swallowing, 'yeah but he'll have to suck it up, we'll chat, shag then to bed I go, I could sleep for a million years'.
What the fuck, Roger's making clumping spluttering noises and slowly as if seizing up grinds to a halt, 'bollix', I mutter in annoyance, fumble and fiddle with every control, try the ignition, nothing but grinding and more sputtering, 'oh for fuck sake'.
Drumming the steering wheel wondering what to do, phone home, extracting my mobile from my travel bag, crap, useless, battery dead as a doornail, charger back in Aberdeely. Shrugging on my Barbour jacket, I locate the lever that pops the bonnet, hop out, scoot to and lift it, staring at the shiny metal innards of Roger blankly, exactly what magical mechanics course did you take Violet, down goes the bonnet with a thud.
Hopping into Roger's backseat, too tired to trek all the way to Hillingham Village, I curl up my legs, rest my head against the window and keep watch for a passing motorist who might have a mobile I can use or knows how to fix the jeep.
'So close and yet so far', I murmur, eyes drifted across the fields, valley and forest where a partial view of the lake, topiary gardens and Hillingham Hall is visible. Glibly laughing at the thought if I started a fire, sent up smoke signals Ethan would see them, 'probably not...still snoring his head off tucked up in bed I'd say', yawns attack in succession, eyelids grow heavy.
"Violet", floats round my brain, 'five more minutes Ethan, don't burn the toast', eyes wielded shut, snuggling deeper into the warmth, "Violet, wake up", why Ethan's voice morphed into an American accent I'll never know but he's burning the toast, the smell is gross, 'feck off, five minutes, toast burning, marmalade, candyfloss', I wave my arm to pat him away, hand hits off his face and is held, "Violet wake up".
'Your one pain in the arse Rochester', tiredly I grumble, struggle out of sleep, bleary eyed, I blink, focus on him and scream in fright.
'Sorry for frightening you', Christian says looking not one bit sorry, he lets go of my hand.
'Hi', a confused blither, eyes dart about the room I'm in, the secondary drawing room of Manor house, 'nice to see you again...in Hillingham', in a flap I cast aside a travel rug and get up off the couch flop back down with a massive head rush.
'Tea Taylor', he barks, my eyes dart to the door opening and recognise stern faced Mr Taylor, 'head between your knees', a snappy tone directed at me.
I do without hesitation because with the anger radiating from him I'd say he could combust, oh shit, no wonder, flashbacks of Seattle ensue, 'I'm really sorry about what happened in Seattle', where's Ana, 'emm...are you and Ana having a short break'.
'Shut up', he hisses, my mouth gapes open I ease up, he stands and starts pacing the room fists clenched.
'Can I just ask how I got here because I'm a bit foggy on that', I whisper.
Glaring at me, 'found you in a jeep', oh Roger Range Rover, 'we didn't see it in time, rear ended it, you were thrown to the floor, passed out. Could have been worse, if you were in the front you'd have been blasted by the air bags deploying, Taylor's a trained paramedic, you're fine', explains why I don't remember a thing.
Suddenly aware my pj's smell of burnt toast or more like gunpowder now that I think about it, a chill runs through me, 'oh fuck...was anyone injured...was Ana?'
'You answer my questions', he snaps, I jolt startled, 'what were you doing, where were you going?'
Racking my brain, 'going home...I didn't mean to say to Ana never call me again, please tell me if she's ok'.
'Where were you coming from to say you were going home', he ignores what I asked, he must be here on his own, probably checking on Manor house's refurbishments.
'From Aberdeely', fuck, Ethan doesn't know I'm here, 'can I use a phone or a mobile please', his glare intensifies, grey eyes flickering thunderously, I shift uncomfortably on the couch, a throbbing headache begins to pound.
'Why were you in Aberdeely, how long were you there', he ignores my request, starts pacing again.
'Since Sunday night, Ethan thought it best I stay there while he...emmm...sorted stuff', a bare mumble, my mouth gapes open again I've never seen a person's expression shift to what can only be described as pure rage, 'can I please use a phone'.
Mr Taylor enters the room carrying a cup, Christian charges to him, takes it, 'get out', he orders, 'go to the jeep tow it back here'.
Mr Taylor glances at me, 'with all due respect Mr Grey', a hesitant pause, 'she's defenseless and after an accident Sir', barely I hear him say under his breath, fear bubbles within, fingers twist and fidget with the fringed edge of the travel rug.
'I said go to the fucking jeep tow it back', a growl, Mr Taylor retreats, Christian slams the door nearly taking it off its hinges, strides over to me and holds out the cup, 'drink'.
Shaking my head, 'I want to go home', bursting into tears I pull the rug up to my chin.
'I'll fucking bring you home when I'm good and ready, drink this', he seethes, I shake my head, screech, the cup flies over my head, hits a wall, smashes into smithereens, tea runs down the delicately patterned pastel wallpaper, 'where was Ethan while you were in Aberdeely'.
'RC', I blurt stunned.
'For the whole time', he snarls in a biting accusatorial tone.
'No...he went home yesterday to check on things', snivelling I wipe away more tears with the sleeve of my pj's, the horrible stink shoots up my nose, 'look Christian...I don't know what's going on but'.
'Shut up', he roars, towering over me, stance foreboding, expression malicious along with rage, protect yourself, a voice in the back of my mind tells me, the only way I can think of to do that has me edging off the couch, sinking to my knees before him, head and eyes cast down in a display of submission.
Holding my breath, silence goes on and on, beneath the hems of his dark navy jeans white Converse laces are showing I focus on them, 'does Mrs Ridiculous Ladyship wants to play', a mocking snarl breaks the silence, no but if it calms you down.
Remaining silent, no clue how he orders a reply, Ethan just says, respond.
'Answer', he snaps, ok...answer is his prompt.
'Yes Sir', a bare murmur wafts from my mouth.
The ringing of a cell tries to rouse me, not my ring tone, my cheek against warmness with two small points of hardness moves and settles, my hand wipes away drool from the corner of my mouth, the ringing gets louder, 'answer your cell Christian'.
"Good grief", I hear, what, my eyes shoot wide open in shock, hands on my shoulders ease me up from his chest, 'be upright Anastasia', I do in more shock, Ethan reaches for his cell on the coffee table, it stops ringing before he can answer, he looks at the screen quizzically.
Holey fuck, in a total panic I jump off the couch, brain alerts I'm dressed so is he, 'what happened…..did we have…..emmmm…..sex and dress again', blurts frenziedly.
He looks at me incredulously, 'indeed not, good grief Anastasia where are your sensibilities, a clear case of overindulging in wine throughout Dogma, evidently we slumbered', he frowns at the screen.
'But how did I end up sleeping practically on top of you', I squawk in relief and confusion.
Another incredulous look, 'I was slumbering Anastasia, perhaps you crawled along the sofa in yours', pressing a button he puts the cell to his ear, sits up and springs from the couch, 'Mrs Steward the purpose of your call', as he listens the blood drains from his face, 'I see…..no…no apology required', he ends the call.
'Holland', a roar that could crumble Hillingham Hall releases.
'What's wrong Ethan', in a flummox I ask.
Holding up a forefinger, 'be hushed please', he scrolls for a number, taps to call, obviously it rings out, an expression of anxiety and concern sets on his face, he charges from the cosy den, I follow bewildered, oh fuck…the time…..Christian must be in Hillingham by now, unjammed from behind her couch my sub-conscious is too afraid to come out.
A sharp suited man enters the kitchen from the adjacent utility room where beyond a door is closing on a long stark corridor, I recognize him as the one behind the gates who said, "go about my business", he scowls at me openly, 'Holland', Ethan addresses him sharply, 'contact Tyler in RC Air, via the GPS system have him locate vehicle fifty nine and place h two on standby'.
'Yes your Lordship', the man nods leaves going back the way he came in a flash.
'I'd better go Ethan, Christian's probably here', I run to the kitchen table, grab my Blackberry, shit, battery dead, shove it into my handbag and grab my coat.
'Yes, most likely', a distracted reply he's strolling to a coffee maker, 'espresso'?
'No will you ring a taxi please', I blither tension setting in fast.
'I shall summon a driver by the time I do the coffee shall be made', tension palpable in his tone.
'What's wrong Ethan', I ask, on autopilot he's placing two tiny cups under the machine's nozzles, punches a button, rapidly the cups fill, a rich aroma of coffee drifts.
'In my wisdom', he scoffs, 'I brought Violet to Aberdeely Castle Sunday gone after she received your email', oh God, 'my thought, in the peaceful care of the housekeeper and caretaker she would not be troubled while I', he eyes me cautiously then nods, 'put in place safeguards for RC', bringing the cups to the table, 'Anastasia at some point last night she departed, no doubt for home, evident she has not arrived'.
'But surely SD is with her', I point out.
A deep sigh, he sips his, 'SD does not sit well with Violet, in my wisdom again', another scoffing tone, 'and taking into consideration the castle's remoteness I thought her residence there would be less intrusive without'.
'How long is the journey', abject concern for Vi rises I sip the warming dark brown liquid in the hope it'll ease the churning in my stomach.
'Weather conditions as they were, eight, nine hours', fear of the unknown is projected in his eyes, in silence we sip our coffees, a surge of unadulterated guilt for betraying her and Christian overwhelms, gnaws at my very soul, 'Anastasia', a gentle tone, understanding joins the fear in his eyes , 'no ill or wrong to our respective spouses has been done, rather unwise to berate ourselves needlessly', a brief reassuring smile, oh I did do wrong, not physically but mentally.
Convincingly I nod in agreement but know in my heart from now on guilt will forever be present, he looks at Mr Holland returning to the kitchen, the man's wary and determined expression causes my stomach to clench and breath to catch in the back of my throat, 'yes Holland', Ethan's steady tone disguises fear.
'Your Lordship a private word please', sternly Mr Holland states.
'Speak freely Holland', tersely Ethan orders.
'Not in front of her', a scornful tone.
'You forget yourself Holland, Mrs Grey is a guest to be addressed in a congenial manner', Ethan snaps so harshly it halts my move to leave the kitchen.
'Certainly your Lordship, I apologise Mrs Grey', he replies in a conciliatory tone, nods at me, I nod in return, 'Sir vehicle fifty nine's location has been pinpointed, the drive of Manor house', Ethan looks at me I look at him in a quandary of confusion, Vi's with Christian.
Ethan's eyes don't leave mine, 'Holland, assume a post in the hall', near to a growl he orders.
'Sir', Mr Holland's concerned voice wafts, 'immediate departure to Manor house'.
'Dismissed Holland', Ethan viciously hisses, by peripheral vision I see him leave, 'Anastasia by no means I wish to offend. Regarding Christian's rage, how stable is he, my beloved is vulnerable'.
Whether he didn't mean to offend or not he did, 'of course Christian's stable Ethan, regularly he goes to Dr Flynn', indignantly I state.
'What', his eyes widen startled, 'what kind of physician, for what purpose'?
Shit, he really doesn't know, Vi said nothing, "Christian's lost control, he'll beat seven shades of shit out of her", my ashen faced sub-conscious peeping around the couch shouts, 'Anastasia answer me please', an emphatic tone.
No…no…..my lost boy, my Christian would never do that, swallowing a sudden lump in my throat, tears pool, "Ana he's with a woman who's bipolar", hysterically the harpy shouts, oh holey shit, 'did Vi kill that boyfriend of hers', blurts fearfully.
'No', he states in astonishment, 'please answer my question Anastasia'.
'You said her crime Ethan', disjointedly I snap.
'Yes, I considered her unwillingness under my protection to bring the prick to justice a crime, immoral in fact. How could one not in the knowledge the misogynist is free to inflict mental and physical abuse on another woman or several, unfathomable, I could not allow it', his eyes blaze into mine then shift to sadness, 'I coerced her, Holt's trial albeit short took its toll alarmingly, I placed her in the care of my physician Dr Maher. The bipolar disorder was diagnosed, inconclusive as to whether the trial or abuse caused it', he sighs, 'I made mention of the ECT treatment',
'Yes', I bleat processing all he's saying trying to keep my emotions under control.
'It did not have the desired effect, memories of the abuse remained, the entire legal process vanished, Maher and I agreed it would be in Violet's best interest not to burden her with those facts', he sighs again deeply, 'also in her best interest we informed Holt sought treatment, to this day she believes he is alive and living in Liverpool, perhaps wrong on our part but such was her relief, peace of mind and rapid stabilising of her mental wellbeing I harbour no regrets for our deception'.
Realizing Ethan would go to any lengths to protect Vi my mind flashes the contents of the file in Christian's safe, 'information Christian's gathered...the man's death points to a cover up...implicating you...did you murder him', a frightened, wary and uncertain voice remotely rings in my ears.
'Not by my hand but one could argue I did', he murmurs, the cup in my hand crashes onto the grey flagstone tiled floor, backward steps I take and bump of the dresser, 'be at ease Anastasia, all I did was orchestrate the placing together of two likeminded individuals and let nature take its course', my head shakes in another quandary of confusion.
Walking away from the table creating more distant between us which makes me feel marginally safer, he folds his arms, leans his hip against the sink, crosses his legs and regards me closely, 'please allow me to explain', a quiet tone, unable to speak I nod.
'In my opinion Holt received a light sentence therefore I called in a favour from a man who shall remain nameless. At that time an ex security employee of mine, one David Hadley, was serving his sentence for the battery and sexual assault of a prostitute, the favour, have Hadley transferred to the prison Holt was beginning his. I spoke of nature taking its course, indeed it did, a confrontation whereby Hadley brought about Holt's demise by way of stabbing him, not once but twenty three times, weapon of choice, a spoon, the handle of which filed down to a sharpened point. Such was the rage of the attack Hadley is currently incarcerated in a private facility more suited to his psychotic requirements, at my expense, why my expense you may ask, to atone for my hand in the matter. With all that said Anastasia I hope you comprehend were my involvement made public not only I would be affected. Violet, our families of course, the unnamed man and his also Michelle, Millicent and Gabriel, Hadley is Millicent's father, do they require knowledge of my underhandedness, involved in investigations which no doubt would come about, I think not'.
Oh my God, taking it all in, an unwavering thought strikes, whether he did right or wrong he's now burdened with the responsibility of protecting so many people, quickly he strides to me, takes and holds my hands, 'Anastasia, you are in charge of the full facts, do with them as you may, please respond to the question I put to you regarding Christian, my concern for Violet is acute should he make mention of Holt'.
Everything about Christian comes out in a sobbing gush of five, ten minutes, I'm not sure, ending in the same way as with Vi, 'I love Christian unconditionally'.
'Anastasia', his hands in support never let go of mine, 'Christian is a good man indeed, all he suffered, overcame, shows he is strong as are you, let us go yes', his eyes show nothing but compassion, 'there, there', my hands are released, thumbs gently wipe away falling tears, 'a fortunate man he is to have and behold you, your loving nature is very much akin to my beloved's, we must away now'.
At least he has the decency to keep his back turned while I'm in a bath, of his making, as he did when he ordered me to tie up my hair and get into it, only briefly his eyes zoned in a my breast scar, 'you're blonde, Ethan's preference', he murmurs.
Staying silent, 'yeah fucking answer', he snaps.
'He doesn't have one Sir', I do in a low tone, unlike you…brunette doppelgangers.
'I've only Ana's written account, no photos to prove you're lying, I think brunettes, he's attracted to Ana isn't he', the other way round Christian, he doesn't say answer so I keep silent, 'I hear no water splashing, wash, you don't smell great', I do with nothing more than lukewarm water, 'answer my question', he adds in a ferocious snap.
'No Sir he's not', another low toned response, oh God, he's not calming down as I thought he would, you keep calm Violet for the love of God.
'She's beautiful', an indignant, insulted growl, his head turns, grey eyes like stormy seas pierce into mine, I bow my head fast, stare through the stilling bathwater at my knees, "all is well, all is as it should be my love, my Lady Rochester, my angel", Ethan's loving voice plays in my mind.
'Answer', his voice wafts in another snap.
'Yes Sir she is', tears burst, I can't take anymore, 'please Christian, I want to go home'.
'Oh Christ', tone alarmed, meekly I look up, his face is ashen, 'Violet I'm sorry', he rushes to the bath, crouches, his arms wrap round my shoulders, 'I'm sorry'.
'It's ok…I understand...Ana loves you…only you...forever', I sob against his linen shirted shoulder.
'I love her so much, Ana is my world, a world I never thought possible', his voice now croaky and weary.
'I know Christian…..I know you do', I cry harder for this man Ana said is fifty shades of fucked up.
Releasing me, he stares into my eyes, shit…no…..no, expression back to rage and malice, 'she's in Hillingham Hall with Ethan has been for the last thirty six hours', what…oh…..it was her voice not altitude playing tricks after all.
Dazed then beyond as none to gently he yanks me out of the bath keeping his eyes averted, 'dry, dress', icily he orders and strides into the bedroom.
Swiftly I do, empty retch, the smell from the pj's is intense, it clears the haze in my mind, I trust you Ethan…..I trust you Ana, meekly I walk into the bedroom, 'Christian', in agitation he's pacing in front of a window, 'Christian', I shout, he stops, looks at me, 'don't let your imagination run away with you, they're trustworthy, faithful, Ethan wouldn't do anything'.
'With his past and covering up for you, trustworthy is the last thing he is', he snaps, what the fuck, 'conveniently you don't remember do you', he's not making sense, for fuck sake get out of here Violet, I bolt for the door.
Nearing, it swings open missing my head by an inch, 'my love my love'.
'Ethan', I wail, gathered up and into his arms, 'what don't I remember...did I do something wrong'.
'No my love, there, there, what wrong could my angel have done', he coos, I cling to him.
'Christian', I fling my arms around him, 'are you ok', his expression the most distressed I've ever seen.
'Ana, Ana', he holds onto me for dear life, 'oh God, Ana'.
'All misunderstandings', I sob holding him tight.
'Christian', Ethan speaks in a calm low tone, 'Anastasia is correct, anon when the dust has settled as it were, you and I should converse man to man privately. On my word as a gentleman nothing untoward occurred between your wife and I and I harbour no ill intentions towards you'.
Christian breaks away from my arms, strides over to Ethan, Jason, Mr Holland and Mr Cleary burst into the room, 'stay back', Christian orders, arm outstretched. Jason does, Holland and Cleary move forward, Ethan gives one nod they move back, I run, stand by Christian's side and hold onto his arm, biceps ridged.
Being of the same height Christian glares into Ethan's eyes, his in return non hostile, 'your word as a gentleman, who besides you would stand by that', Christian states vengefully angrily.
'Perhaps not many', now Ethan's eyes shift to hostility, his hold of Vi tightens protectively, mine of Christian does, 'may I suggest neutral ground, where I say again we should converse privately. I would not wish to sully yours and your wife's abode with your blood spattered all over the walls for your ill treatment of Violet, you Sir are no gentleman'.
'Oh for fuck sake…enough…enough', Vi cries, her arm reaches out, a small hand strokes Christian's cheek, 'Christian you did me no wrong...Ethan he didn't', she kisses Ethan's bruised cheek, reaches again, strokes mine, 'Ana remember I said you and me are in the same boat paddling up stream'.
'Yes Vi I do, I didn't it say it at the time, I will now', stroking Christian's cheek staring into his eyes, 'Grey, two steps forward fifty back. I love you, nothing happened between Ethan and me', stormy grey eyes calm, glancing, flickering dark brown ones do also.
'Ana, I've got an idea', Vi smiles the scar at the corner of mouth stretches.
'You do Vi', I smile sliding an arm around Christian's waist, he arms securely wrap around mine.
'Yeah, while the high flying business geniuses hash things out, having the bromance they should've had in the first place', a snort from Christian and Ethan interrupts her.
'For goodness sake Christian Ethan, get over yourselves', I snap, Vi and I giggle, 'what's the plan Vi'.
Taking her hand, our fingers entwine, 'you and me, well away from them when they do, my suggestion a Spa weekend'.
'My kind of plan Vi, I'm there', we grin.
