Sommersgate House

Chapter Five Douglas’s Protection

The doorbell rang at Douglas’s house in the posh Kensington area of London just as Julia was walking down the stairs. She saw Veronika come out of the room where she and the kids were watching a DVD and she waved her back.

“I’ve got it,” she told the girl, Veronika nodded and walked back from where she came.

Julia opened the door and a short woman with dark hair highlighted expertly with blonde streaks charged in.

“Okay… I hope I’m not too late but I had a million things to do,” the woman announced without saying hello.

But she didn’t have to say hello.

Julia had never met Sam Thornton but she would know her voice anywhere.

Sam whirled around once she’d gained entry and stopped. Julia saw Sam was wearing a well-cut, black suit with impossibly high-heeled black pumps and still she was at least four inches shorter than Julia.

“Well, I can see I didn’t need to rush. Wow, that’s quite a dress,” Sam pronounced, her eyes giving Julia a head-to-toe.

“Sam,” Julia said and walked forward, bent down and tightly hugged the woman she’d known for months but had never met.

The last three days, as with the last five months, Sam had been her lifeline. She’d arranged for Julia to have a mobile phone, a laptop and had the technician come to Sommersgate to connect Julia’s new computer not only to the high-speed broadband that was already laid to the house but also to connect it to Douglas’s complicated, wireless network in the house. Sam acquired an e-mail address for her as well and this meant Julia was in touch with family and friends back home and for that she’d be forever grateful.

Sam had sent Julia all the forms she needed for her driving license and from the Home Office. She’d researched health insurance and sent her job openings and volunteer opportunities in Julia’s field. She’d even looked into getting Julia a bank account, which right now seemed impossible due to laws put in place to prevent terrorist activities and thus Julia had to be a resident of the country. It appeared Douglas had to open an account for her which was an aggravation Julia did not need and something she had to discuss with him on Sunday.

As the days went by, Julia was getting more and more uncomfortable with the “arrangement”, as Douglas had called it, and needing to rely so heavily on him, even when he wasn’t there. Her debts to him were mounting up and Julia was making carefully updated lists to tally these debts so she could (if she ever saw him for long enough to have a conversation with him) settle them.

Once Julia stepped back from Sam, the other woman started talking in her usual rapid fire way.

“Good to meet you too,” she said, obviously flustered at Julia’s show of affection. “I brought half a dozen frocks just in case you didn’t have anything suitable to wear tonight but it seems I didn’t need to worry.” She gestured at Julia’s outfit and then quickly on to another thought, she glanced around her. “Where are the kids?”

Without a response from Julia, Sam headed directly towards the lounge and the other woman’s command of the situation and everything around her made Julia smile.

She looked down at her dress thinking with amusement about Sam taking charge of even her wardrobe. Julia’s dress was jade green satin, with a high, mandarin neckline with intricate aquamarine frogs and scrolled cording. The hem was embroidered extravagantly in pale yellows, deep pinks, aquamarine with accents of black and gold with high slits up her thighs on either side. She wore a pair of delicate but dangerous-looking high, spike-heeled, slingback pumps. She’d twisted her hair up at the back, clipping it at the crown with a gold barrette inset with jade allowing the thick, waving blonde mass to fall over the clip.

She followed Sam into the lounge and it was clear the children knew her as they crowded around and Sam gave them affectionate hugs. Either they knew her or they were overwhelmed by the big chocolate bars she was freely distributing from her handbag.

Julia’s week had been hectic, settling in, getting sorted, understanding the children’s schedules which included daytime trips for Ruby to gymnastics and ballet classes and evening piano and violin lessons for Willie and Lizzie with Lizzie also taking ballet. There was also homework and instrument practice and the rigid schedule of the house mealtimes and bedtimes to keep.

That day they’d left early and Julia was thrilled to be free of the forbidding house that, even as enormous as it was, still felt claustrophobic. She sensed a strangeness there she couldn’t put her finger on and Ruby’s imaginary friend (whom the girl talked about all the time) was giving her the creeps.

Carter drove them to London where they spent an excruciatingly busy day visiting Kensington Palace, the mad, tourist-filled crush of Madame Tussaud’s and the equally crowded Tower of London.

Still not sleeping well, with a day on her feet fighting crowds, watching over the children and hustling from one place to the next, Julia was shattered.

All week, when she did eventually sleep, it was fitful, filled with strange dreams she couldn’t quite remember or disturbed by an odd tapping at the window that was most likely the branch of a tree or shrub but in the dark of night seemed something else, something sinister.

Tonight, Sam had told her, she would be having dinner with Douglas and two of his friends, Charlotte and Oliver Forsythe. Julia had met Charlotte and Oliver on several occasions when she’d visited Tammy and Gav. Charlotte was the editor-in-chief of a glossy fashion magazine and Oliver’s family was in banking. “In banking” was Tammy’s way of saying his family owned the controlling share of a bank with hundreds of branches nationwide. Julia liked them both. Even though she didn’t know either of them very well she knew they’d been good friends to Tammy and Gav.

They would all then be off to an art gallery opening. There, Sam warned her, she would face the “paps”. Thus the need for Sam’s “frocks” as Sam had informed her she wanted Julia to be confident in the face of the onslaught.

“And every girl knows, confidence often comes in the form a fantastic outfit!” Sam had proclaimed (quite rightly).

This was something Julia had not anticipated. She did not look forward to this evening, dressing up and having dinner with people she didn’t know very well was enough of a drain on her flagging resources. But facing “paps” made it all the worse.

“Paps” was English slang for “paparazzi”. Tamsin and Gavin, she knew, were both photographed frequently at balls and other events that Tamsin supported in her role as Lady Tamsin Ashton Fairfax. But Douglas was positively hunted by the photographers. Julia had seen his face dozens of times in various magazines in The States. Until Sam reminded her, it hadn’t occurred to Julia that, in being with him, she would also face the paparazzi. This would be a unique experience but she couldn’t imagine they’d have an interest in her when Douglas was there as a target. Perhaps, she thought (or more to the point hoped), it wouldn’t be that bad.

“I thought I’d take the kids to a movie tonight, if you don’t mind,” Sam said, interrupting Julia’s thoughts.

“Wicked!” Willie shouted what Julia was coming to learn was his favourite word.

“In Leicester Square, Lizzie, where they have all the big premieres, like Harry Potter.” Sam went on when Lizzie didn’t act as thrilled as Willie.

“Okay,” Lizzie muttered, too well-mannered to ignore someone speaking directly to her but also not willing to show any excitement.

“Is that okay?” Sam asked Julia and Julia nodded and smiled. The kids would love it and they certainly had enough of being holed up in austere, posh houses.

She saw Veronika standing away from the group, her face carefully blank and Julia had an idea.

“Could you take Veronika as well? I’m sure she’d like to see Leicester Square and she’d help you out with the kids,” Julia asked Sam quietly, looking at the young girl across the room and giving her a wink.

“Sure thing. Ronnie you’re coming with us!” Sam announced and Julia watched with satisfaction as Veronika’s studiously controlled face positively lit up.

The Russian girl had been a godsend that day. She carefully looked after the children, was immensely gentle with them, occasionally cautiously affectionate and she obviously took her job very seriously. She’d also noticed that, several times, Veronika lost herself in wonder at the sights they’d seen and Julia was pleased that she’d brought her along instead of leaving her with Carter while just she and the kids enjoyed their activities.

“But we must go, on the double, or we’ll miss our showing. Come on! Chop chop!” And Sam clapped her hands as the kids and Veronika trooped into the hall to get their coats.

Julia was carrying her evening bag and walking beside Sam and she pulled it open to take out some money for the kids and Veronika.

“You have a car big enough for all of them?” she asked, sorting out two fifty pound notes because she had no idea how much an evening out to the movies in London would cost. Considering the exorbitant cost of everything else that day, a hundred pounds might not even cover it.

“No worries. We’ll take a taxi. Haven’t experienced London unless you’ve had a ride in a London taxi. I have one waiting outside with your frocks. We’ll swing by my house, drop off the dresses and off we go,” Sam assured her as they stopped several feet from the front door.

“Can you come directly back after? Ruby shouldn’t be out late,” Julia requested.

Sam laughed. “I’ve got five nieces and two nephews. Don’t worry about us, I know the drill. We’ll be fine.”

Julia started to hand her the money when a deep voice came from behind them.

“What’s happening here?” Douglas asked.

Julia whirled around and saw Douglas was standing in the open doorway looking sophisticated wearing another superbly-tailored navy suit, this one without pinstripes. It was accompanied by a deep burgundy shirt and monochromatic tie.

She hadn’t seen him since Wednesday, hadn’t even spoken to him on the phone. She’d just managed to force him, and the disturbing and confusing rush of feelings she was having, out of her mind. At the sight of him standing there managing to look both dashing and unapproachable, those feelings crowded in on her uninvited and she felt her breath momentarily quicken.

Ruby dashed to him and threw her arms around his legs. He touched her head lightly, this she accurately took as a signal to disengage and Douglas nodded to Willie’s, “’Lo, Uncle Douglas,” and briefly and distractedly touched Lizzie cheek as he walked by the girl.

“Sam is taking the kids to the movies. I was just giving her some money,” Julia explained.

Ignoring the proffered notes, Sam ordered, “I’ll put it on my expense account. Right boss?” she said with a cheeky grin at Douglas and, not waiting for an answer, she addressed the crowd. “We’ll be late if we don’t go and you two will be late if you don’t go… children! Onward!” she ordered and trooped the kids to the door leaving Julia standing there, still holding the notes in her hand.

“Hang on!” Julia called. “Kids… kisses!” And they all came back, briefly pressing kisses to her cheek and rushed, followed by a quiet Veronika who appeared to be trying to make herself invisible, out the door.

When Julia turned around, Douglas was gone. A light was now on in what she knew was his study and she stuffed the notes in her purse as she walked to the doorway. He’d laid his briefcase on his desk and had the phone in his hand.

“Carter,” he said into the receiver, “we’ll meet you at the front door.” He turned his head to look at her as he replaced the receiver. “Are you ready?”

In response, Julia put her arms out slightly at the sides, looking down at herself.

“I see you are,” he said, his tone no longer businesslike but vastly different. He was looking at her, his eyes moving down her body in a lazy way.

From the look in his eyes, she felt that familiar tremor slide up her spine and her stomach lurched, then clenched and she felt pleasantly warm, unwelcomely so.

What was he playing at? He hadn’t even said, Hello, how were the last three days of your new life? Now he was eyeing her like she was dinner.

She didn’t have the time, or the energy, to think about it.

Instead, she said, “I’ll just run upstairs for my wrap.”

Then she turned and escaped, ascending the stairs to her room. She grabbed her pink pashmina from the bed and wrapped it around her, throwing a free end over her left shoulder. She took a deep breath and thought, I can do this, just a few hours, I can manage not to fall face forward in my soup and then it will be over and I can come back and sleep. Once she told herself this (and almost believed it), she headed back down the stairs.

At the curb, Carter opened the door to the Bentley for them, closed it behind them and they were whisked into the London night.

Julia stared out the window feeling strangely shy and decided to put it down to tiredness and Douglas’s earlier look. She had always been outgoing and found talking to anyone from any background easy. You just found out what their interests were and then asked questions. Nearly everyone loved to talk about themselves. Simple.

But she was so exhausted, she couldn’t think how to make small talk with Douglas and then she realised belatedly that Douglas wasn’t speaking either. She turned to look at him and saw he was staring at her legs which were crossed. It was too dark to see his expression but she sensed something in the car and that something made her cheeks warm.

“How was your week?” she asked in an attempt to dispel her bizarre feeling.

“Long,” he answered shortly, not offering any more information as he shifted his gaze from her legs to her face. “Yours?” he asked.

“The same.”

And that was it, the extent of their conversation. Not long after, they slid to a halt at the front of a fashionable restaurant, so fashionable that Julia had heard of it, even in Indiana, and all the celebrities that haunted it.

The place was a crush at the front but the moment the doors closed behind them it was serene, decorated with an overdose of trendy bamboo and lots of glass. The hostess immediately stiffened and came forward, oozing courtesy as she guided them to the table Charlotte and Oliver were already occupying.

Julia was pleasantly surprised when both the petite, slim, stylish, black-haired Charlotte and the tall, straight, sandy-haired Oliver greeted her with friendly familiarity.

They’d barely taken their seats when a waiter appeared at the table.

“Would you like drinks, Lord Ashton?” he asked reverentially.

Douglas didn’t even look at Julia before saying, “Miss Fairfax will have a dry vodka martini, up, with an olive. I’ll have the same, with gin, no olive.”

Julia was stunned speechless.

It was true, she had a strict regimen of drinking. Margaritas while eating Mexican or on hot summer evenings. Micro-brewed beer while watching sports. Spiced rum and diet cola while lounging at home with friends or on the rare occasions when she was at a beach. Dry red wine with dinner. Amaretto with coffee after dessert. Mojitos when she was feeling saucy or eating Texas chilli. And, on posh nights out, a dry vodka martini, up, with an olive.

She didn’t know what was more shocking, that Douglas knew her preferred drink or that he hadn’t bothered consulting her when ordering it. No man, not even Sean, had ordered for her without taking her request. The sensation was alarming because even though it was irritating, it was also somehow delicious.

She tried to hide her contradictorily pleased annoyance but when she glanced at Charlotte, the other woman was watching her closely.

“So!” Charlotte cried suddenly and Julia jumped. “How are you settling into the spooky manse? I see Monique hasn’t driven you to tearing your hair out yet, which, I must add, is a shining testament to you, my dear.” Then she lifted her drink in an amusing salute to Julia.

“Monique is on the Mediterranean,” Douglas announced, the waiter long gone, rushing to do the bidding of a very famous and powerful client.

“Oo, what luck. So, you’ve been spending this time counting your lucky stars,” Charlotte asked Julia, a twinkle in her eye.

Julia didn’t know what to make of Charlotte, nor how to respond, but was spared by Oliver who said warningly, “Charlie.”

“She’s been around long enough, I think she knows what she’s in for,” Charlotte told her husband with blithe unconcern at his warning and turned back to Julia. “I’m putting my money on you.” Her eyes still sparkled but there was something kindly speculative in them that told Julia that Charlotte Forsythe understood very well and not just about Monique.

With that firm announcement of support, Julia began to relax and enjoy the evening.

Dinner was delicious, even if the servings were sparse, and Charlotte and Oliver were good company. She learned that Oliver and Douglas had gone to school together, played rugby and cricket together and raced cars, horses and anything else that was fast or dangerous while Charlotte, at a sister school for girls “across the lake”, tagged along after them, naughtily egging them on whenever she could.

Julia realised almost immediately that she liked Charlotte immensely. She was witty, obviously in love with her husband and not at all reverential of Douglas.

Julia’s enjoyment of the meal and the company was only marred when, after they were finished and enjoying coffee, Douglas leaned back and rested his arm across the back of her chair.

It was an entirely male gesture and incongruously familiar. And the way Douglas did it was somehow… predatory.

What was more, their table was the focus of a great deal of attention from the other diners and even the staff and Douglas’s behaviour was odd in the extreme.

True, she and Douglas had known each other for years, spent holidays together, ate many a meal in each other’s company and had even engaged in a variety of conversations both with others and alone.

And there had been three times, three very memorable times, when Douglas had shown her fleeting moments of tenderness.

The first was during one of her early visits, a summer holiday. They’d been outside Tamsin and Gavin’s house, Gavin at the barbeque with everyone else eating and drinking. Julia had turned her ankle walking back into the house. Douglas had just arrived and had been close enough to catch her before she fell. Unfortunately, she’d turned it quite badly and he assisted her to a chair, his strong arm supporting her. Once he had her seated, he bent to her foot, carefully, even fondly, lifting her ankle and inspecting it. Gavin had come forward to take over but Julia had never forgotten Douglas’s (strange, for him) thoughtful attention.

The second was during her first visit to Gavin and Tammy’s after her divorce was final. When they’d had a moment alone, Douglas had asked quietly if she was all right and she had the distinct impression that he genuinely cared about her answer. Douglas had been quite obvious about the fact that he never cared for Sean, unlike Monique who doted on her ex-husband. However, with no small surprise, Julia felt that it wasn’t the fact that Douglas disliked Sean and was making some point in asking, it was that he wanted to be certain she was, indeed, all right.

And last, after Tammy and Gavin’s funeral, Julia had found a quiet corner in the library at Sommersgate where she thought no one would find her. Douglas, to her stunned amazement, not only found her, she had the impression he’d come looking for her and, without a word, pulled her stiff body loosely into his arms. At this act of compassion, she’d clutched his shirt, buried her face in his chest and burst into tears, the grief shuddering through her body as the gravity of her loss settled on her soul. Through this, he silently absorbed it, the whole time stroking her back in a way that was both absent (for him) and comforting (for her). Then Patricia walked in and Douglas turned her into her mother’s arms, again without a word, and walked away.

Putting these things out of her mind, Julia also tried to shrug off her feelings at Douglas’s arm on her chair. Gavin would and did put his arm on the back of her chair and it was obviously never predatory or possessive (but maybe protective). Perhaps, Julia told herself, it was a brotherly gesture.

Once she had that comforting thought settled in her mind, she relaxed. Until she saw Charlotte, who Julia was realising didn’t miss a trick, had noted the action with raised brows and a feminine glance at Julia that spoke volumes. This was something else Julia decided to put out of her mind.

After their coffees, Charlotte and Oliver took their own car to the gallery while Carter drove Douglas and Julia

“I’m not good company this evening,” she told him and she watched as his head turned to her. “I still think I’m a little jetlagged and it’s been a long day. I’m sorry.”

He nodded but didn’t respond.

“Dinner was lovely and I like Charlotte very much,” she tried again, desperately wanting to dispel her awkward feelings.

No response for a moment, then he asked, his deep voice sounding strangely lower, more throaty, “Your perfume, what is it?”

She blinked in the darkness. “Wah… why?” she asked, thrown by his odd question.

“It’s extraordinary,” he said it in such a tone that she didn’t know if it was good-extraordinary or bad-extraordinary. “What is it?” he repeated.

“It isn’t from a shop. A friend of mine makes it for me. She’s a bit, er… unusual, my friend. She says it’s an aromatic manifestation of my ‘essence’.” He made no response to this so Julia inquired hesitantly, “Is it too strong?”

“No,” Douglas answered and said nothing more.

She sat there, bewildered, and thought it best to let it go. Then curiosity (as often was the case with Julia) overrode common sense.

“Why do you ask about my perfume?”

“It suits you,” was all he said in reply.

At that moment they slid to a halt in front of the gallery and Douglas threw open the door before Julia could form a thought. She was still reeling at the strange conversation. Julia thought he had just called her extraordinary, though she still didn’t know if that was good or bad but she had the feeling it was good.

Then she could think about it no more. The flashbulbs started popping and the shouts were frenzied while he alighted and she saw his hand offered through the door to help her. She put her own in his and exited the car to the blinding lights. She instantly became discombobulated and dropped his hand as the shouts became louder, more frenzied. She heard his name repeated again and again while the blinding flashes came with such swiftness there seemed no pause between.

She felt her hand taken again in a firm grasp as she was pulled forward, Douglas guiding her, or more to the point, dragging her towards the door.

They made it through the door and crush outside was nothing to the crush inside. It was wall-to-wall people.

Someone rushed forward to Douglas the minute they entered the gallery.

“Lord Ashton! You’re here!” It was a young, eager, overly-made-up woman who turned curious eyes to Julia, looked her from head-to-toe, made a judgement and, Julia thought, dismissed her. “Can I get you some drinks?”

“Champagne,” Douglas commanded shortly and then completely ignored her.

He’d dropped Julia’s hand upon entering but now he slid his fingers, starting at the side of her waist, to the small of her back and guided her forward, stopping her by wrapping his arm fully about her waist and pressing his fingers gently and firmly against her side as they arrived at the first wall filled with art.

She barely had a moment to get her breath or process the pleasant warmth of his hand at her waist and his body at her side when she heard a call.

“Douglas!” a man shouted, far louder than needed even in the din of the crowded gallery. Douglas dropped his arm but kept himself positioned close to Julia’s side. The older man was paunchy with a shock of bright white hair and very red cheeks. “You’ve done it again. It’s the next Picasso. I’ve already bought two. How do you find them?” he asked, apropos of nothing.

He too looked over Julia and didn’t bother to hide his curious interest before he again turned his eyes to Douglas.

Douglas didn’t answer as the man babbled on, “Masterpieces, all, the like I’ve never seen before.”

As Julia finally realised what the older man was referring to, she turned her attention to the artwork on the walls.

Each piece was suspended between two sheets of plexiglass with no other adornment. They were drawn on bits of wrinkled scratch paper and each one, she saw, looked like a doodle done in pencil while the artist was taking a telephone call.

Julia couldn’t claim to be an art aficionado but even she could doodle better than this. And without the theme of blood, guts and violence that ran throughout the works she could take in from her vantage point.

“These are hideous!” Charlotte shrieked gaily as she and Oliver joined them, the white-haired man obviously taking the hint of utter silence from Douglas and moving off. “What on earth made you become patron to this person? Dear God.”

Julia was surprised. She didn’t know Douglas was the opening’s patron and she peered more closely at the disturbing doodles. She also looked at the prices discreetly affixed on the walls to the side of each piece and gasped in shock, each piece cost a small fortune.

The girl arrived with their champagne, Douglas handed Julia a glass and his to Charlotte. “Two more,” he told the girl without a thank you and, apparently not expecting one, she immediately melted into the crowd to do his bidding.

“I’ve never seen these,” Douglas belatedly answered Charlotte. “Samantha finds it amusing to use my influence and money to do shocking things that will make people wonder about me.”

“Well, she’s succeeded,” Oliver replied, laughter in his voice. “From the looks of these, you’re a very disturbed individual.”

“Hideous or not, most of them have sold,” Charlotte noted and then she came forward and wrapped her arm around Julia’s waist. “We’re off to the ladies,” she announced and pulled Julia along with her and through the throng of the crowd before Julia could say a word. “We’re not off to the ladies, I’ve got to have a cigarette and Ollie doesn’t know I’ve started up again,” she confided to Julia conspiratorially, still giving Julia no time to respond.

She guided Julia through the gallery, down a hall at the back and outside into an alleyway. Other guests mingled with staff to enjoy their cigarettes in the surprisingly tidy but smoky alley.

Charlotte pulled Julia away from the smoking crowd and down, stopping them within sight but out of hearing distance and surreptitiously lighting a cigarette with a slim, gold lighter.

“Thank you for coming with me,” Charlotte said, even though she hadn’t given Julia much choice. “Now, we can really talk. Tell me, how are you getting on?”

Her words were not gossipy but kind. Nevertheless, Julia was aware this was a family friend and she forced herself to be discreet even though she desperately wanted to talk to someone, anyone.

“I’m settling in…” she started.

“Codswallop,” Charlotte announced, the strange word forcing a giggle out of Julia and making her relax.

“Okay, it’s been tough,” Julia allowed.

“Tough is when you break the heel of your favourite pair of Jimmy Choos. There’s another word for it when your whole life turns on its head.” She took a drag from her cigarette and blew the smoke away from Julia. “Come on, you can tell Auntie Charlie,” she coaxed with an encouraging smile.

Julia smiled back. She needed someone to talk to and Charlotte seemed genuinely concerned so she gave in. “I’m tired, exhausted… the kids are, well… things are not good.”

“Monique,” Charlotte guessed, making the name sound like a curse and correctly judging the state of affairs at Sommersgate. “That woman is a nightmare. She wasn’t a good mother and she certainly isn’t a good grandmother.”

Julia was stunned by her frankness and curious at her words. Tamsin (and certainly not Douglas) had never spoken about her relationship with her mother even though Julia knew it was obviously nothing like what she and Gav had with Patricia. She knew, though, that it was none of her business.

“It’ll get better,” Julia assured her, trying to believe it herself. “I haven’t even been here for a week. I haven’t had the chance to really talk to Douglas.”

“Who ever really talks to Douglas?” Charlotte asked with further brazen honesty as she waved her cigarette around in the air. “I love him but he’s about as approachable as The Guards.” She took another deep drag and then glanced at the crowd, obviously worried that Oliver would discover her habit then her eyes moved back to Julia. “Listen to me, I was Tammy’s friend, I miss her. She was wonderful and an important part of my life. But I cannot imagine what possessed her to do this to you and Douglas. She loved that house, God knows why, it’s the creepiest place on earth. But she connected with it. I figure she talked Gavin into having the kids brought up there and to protect you, they made Douglas guardian too.”

Julia couldn’t hide her surprise at this announcement. She, too, had spent hours trying to figure out what intentions Gavin and Tamsin had when they put her and Douglas in what was seeming, more and more, not only an impossible, not even an inconceivable but maybe a catastrophic situation. Especially if Julia couldn’t control the avid clenching of her stomach any time Douglas was near.

“Do you think?” Julia asked.

“I can’t imagine why else. Tammy adored Douglas but she didn’t fool herself about him. He’s a good man but, let’s face it, he’s no father figure.” Julia couldn’t help but laugh out loud at that, Charlotte threw her a grin and carried on. “So, Tammy wanted the kids at Sommersgate and you to raise them because they both thought you were fabulous and everyone knows you love those kids. But they had to know Monique would be a problem. Ergo, Douglas is thrown into the fray, poor man. He worshipped his sister, you know.”

No, she didn’t know. Worship was the kind of thing people did to Douglas, not the other way around.

Charlotte continued. “It’s clear he’s already decided on protecting you, if you know what I mean. So, my advice to you is to take him up on it.”

Julia frowned. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“The possessive arm thing, wasting no time in dragging you in front of the paparazzi as a declaration of your position and his favour. Trust me, everyone in there…” she gestured with her cigarette to the gallery, “knows who you are and why you’re here and that you are not, upon arrival in this country, being hidden away like a poor relation whose role is now nanny of her Lady Sister-in-Law’s children. No, instead, you’re out here, looking fabulous… and you do look fabulous by the way, that dress is amazing… and drinking champagne. And Douglas’s favour is a sought after commodity. He shines his light on you, not even Monique could dim it. Believe me, there is nothing, not one thing that Douglas does that doesn’t have a purpose. This…” she gestured lavishly to the alley, “is his subtle way of telling his mother, when she returns, and anyone else for that matter, to back, the hell, off. Well done him!” She finished, clapping her hands, rather dangerously in Julia’s opinion, considering the lit cigarette.

This news, coming from a woman who had known Douglas for years, was so welcome that Julia felt the tears sting her eyes.

“Oh no, don’t do that!” Charlotte cried, coming close to Julia and squeezing her arm reassuringly. “Your makeup is gorgeous and everyone’s going to be looking at you. You can’t ruin it. Here, have a cigarette, it’ll calm you down.”

“I quit ages ago,” Julia admitted, taking a deep breath to fight back the tears.

“Well, I suppose since you’re currently the moral compass for three children, now isn’t the time to start up again. I must quit too or Ollie will divorce me.” She gave Julia’s arm another squeeze before she took her hand away. She dropped her cigarette and crushed it under the toe of her beautifully-shod foot. She straightened her shoulders, tucked Julia’s arm in her elbow and started forward but Julia pulled firmly back and looked at the woman. For the first time in months she felt less tense and less worried and those feelings lit her green eyes to sparkles, even in the dark alley.

“I…” Julia hesitated, not knowing how to put her feelings into words, then she continued, “thank you. I appreciate you telling me this.”

Charlotte shook her head and patted Julia’s arm, her eyes kind. “Enough of this, let’s go show them how fabulous you are.”

And that was what Charlotte did.

For the rest of the night, Julia had a wonderful time. She was wrong, Charlotte wasn’t just witty, she was hilarious. They drank glass after glass of champagne and Charlotte introduced her to everyone, making outrageous comments that made Julia laugh so hard she nearly cried.

Douglas hadn’t been lost in Charlotte’s determined efforts for the evening, even as she whisked Julia from person to person, and drink to drink, they always came back to Douglas. Charlotte would deposit Julia firmly at his side for just enough time for him to smile down on her or lean over and comment in her ear, showing everyone clearly, and they were most definitely watching, that Julia did indeed have his “favour”. Then Charlotte would whisk Julia away to show her off again.

By the time Julia stood on the pavement beside the Bentley with the paparazzi flashing away and Carter calmly holding the door, Julia was still exhausted but more relaxed than she’d been in months.

After giving her a brief hug and kiss on each cheek, Charlotte pressed a card in her hand.

“My info, phone, mobile, home, my assistant, my e-mail… you need anything, you call me, anytime!”

Julia nodded. “You’re lovely, Charlotte.”

“Charlie, all my friends call me Charlie.” And with those words, and the meaningful look she gave Julia to accompany them, she and Oliver were off.

Once they were in the Bentley and moving safely through the streets, she heard Douglas say, “It appears you had a good time.”

“Charlotte is a love,” Julia declared happily, thrilled to have her first new friend and perhaps an explanation about Douglas’s behaviour, and Tammy and Gav’s wishes, that would make her life a lot easier.

They drove home in silence and alighted from the car in front of the house. As they walked to the front door, Julia tripped, her heel getting caught in a crack in the pavement, and lurched forward. Douglas caught her against his body, an arm going around her.

“Steady,” he warned on a murmur, looking down at her just as she looked up, a small relieved smile still on her face, when the bulb flashed beside them.

“Off with you!” Carter shouted, moving threateningly, yet surprisingly nimbly, toward the photographer as Douglas hustled her inside.

But even with that end to the evening, nothing could stop Julia’s feeling of calm.

Douglas said a curt goodnight, already preoccupied with something else, and went straight to his study.

As for Julia, she checked on the children then prepared quickly for bed and slept soundly for the first time in months.