Almost Gone (The Au Pair—Book One)

by Blake Pierce

  “And the family wing.”

  Cassie brightened, glad to finally reach the part of the house where people lived.

  “The nursery.”

  To her confusion, this was another empty room, occupied only by a tall crib with high, barred sides.

  “And here, the children’s bedrooms. Our suite is at the end of the passage, around the corner.”

  Three closed doors in a row. Margot’s voice dropped and Cassie guessed she didn’t want to look in on the children—not even to say good night.

  “This is Antoinette’s bedroom, this is Marc’s, and the closest to ours is Ella’s. Your room is opposite Antoinette’s.”

  The door was open and two maids were busily making up the bed. The room was enormous and icy cold. It was furnished with two wingback chairs, a table, and a large wooden wardrobe. Heavy red curtains shrouded the window. Her suitcase had been placed at the foot of the bed.

  “You will hear the children if they cry or call—please attend to them. Tomorrow morning they need to be dressed and ready by eight. They will be going outdoors, so choose warm clothing.”

  “I will, but…” Cassie gathered her courage. “Could I please have some supper? I’ve had nothing to eat since dinner on the plane last night.”

  Margot stared at her, perplexed, then shook her head.

  “The children ate early because we are going out. The kitchen is closed now. Breakfast will be served from seven tomorrow. You can wait till then?”

  “I—I suppose so.” She felt sick with hunger—the forbidden candy in her bag, intended for the children, suddenly an irresistible temptation.

  “And I must email the agency and let them know I’m here. Would it be possible to have the Wi-Fi password? My phone has no signal.”

  Now Margot’s stare grew blank. “We have no Wi-Fi, and there is no cell phone signal here. Only a landline telephone in Pierre’s study. To send an email, you must go into town.”

  Without waiting for Cassie’s response, she turned away and headed toward the main bedroom.

  The maids had gone, leaving Cassie’s bed in a state of chilly perfection.

  She closed the door.

  She’d never dreamed she would feel homesick, but at that moment she longed for a friendly voice, the babble of the television, the clutter of a full refrigerator. Dishes in the sink, toys on the floor, YouTube videos playing on phones. The happy chaos of a normal family—the life she’d expected to become a part of.

  Instead, she felt she was already embroiled in a bitter and complicated conflict. She could never have hoped to be instant friends with these children—not with the family dynamics that had played out so far. This place was a battleground—and while she might find an ally in young Ella, she feared she had already made an enemy in Antoinette.

  The ceiling light, which had been flickering, suddenly failed. Cassie fumbled in her backpack for her phone and unpacked as best she could in the flashlight’s beam, before plugging it into the only visible plug point on the opposite side of the room and shuffling through the darkness to her bed.

  Cold, apprehensive, and hungry, she climbed between the chilly sheets and pulled them up to her chin. She’d expected to feel more hopeful and positive after meeting the family, but instead she found herself doubting her ability to cope with them, and dreading what the following day would bring.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The statue stood in Cassie’s doorway, framed by darkness.

  Its lifeless eyes opened and its mouth parted as it moved toward her. The hairline cracks around its lips widened, and then its entire face began to disintegrate. Fragments of marble showered down and rattled on the floor.

  “No,” Cassie whispered, but found she could not move. She was trapped in bed, her limbs frozen even though her panicked mind implored her to flee.

  The statue made its way toward her, arms outstretched, stone chips cascading from its limbs. It began to scream, a high, thin sound, and as it did, she saw what was being exposed under the marble shell.

  Her sister’s face. Cold, gray, dead.

  “No, no, no!” Cassie shouted, and her own cries woke her.

  The room was pitch dark; she was curled in a shivering ball. She sat up, panicked, groping for a light switch that wasn’t there.

  Her worst fear… the one she tried hard to suppress by day, but which found its way into nightmares. It was the fear that Jacqui had died. Because why else would her sister have suddenly stopped communicating? Why had there been no letters, no phone calls, no word from her for years?

  Shaking with cold and fear, Cassie realized the clattering stones in her dream had become the sound of rain, gusting in the wind, drumming against the window glass. And above the rain, she heard another sound. One of the children was screaming.

  “You will hear the children if they cry or call—please attend to them.”

  Cassie felt confused and disoriented. She wished she could turn on a bedside light and take a few minutes to calm herself. The dream had been so vivid she still felt locked inside it. But the screaming must have started while she was asleep—it might, in fact, have caused her nightmare. She was needed urgently, and she had to hurry.

  She pushed the duvet back, discovering the window hadn’t been properly closed. Rain had blown in through the gap, and the lower section of the covers was dripping wet. She stepped out of bed into the blackness and headed across the room in the direction she hoped her phone would be.

  A slick of water on the floor had turned the tiles to ice. She skidded, losing her footing and landing with a painful thud on her back. Her head banged against the bedframe and her vision exploded into stars.

  “Goddammit,” she whispered, easing herself onto her hands and knees and waiting for the pain in her head, and the dizziness, to subside.

  She crawled across the tiles and felt around for her phone, hoping it had escaped the floodwater. To her relief, this side of the room was dry. She turned on the flashlight, clambering painfully to her feet. Her head was throbbing and her shirt was drenched. She ripped it off and quickly pulled on the first clothes she could find—a pair of tracksuit bottoms and a gray top. Barefoot, she hurried out of the room.

  She shone her flashlight onto the walls but there were no light switches nearby. Carefully, she followed its beam in the direction of the sound, heading toward the Dubois’s suites. The room closest to theirs would be Ella’s bedroom.

  Cassie knocked quickly and went in.

  Thankfully, light at last. In the glow of the ceiling lamp she could see the single bed near the window where Ella had kicked off her duvet. Shouting and screaming in her sleep, she was fighting the demons of her dream.

  “Ella, wake up!”

  Closing the door, Cassie hurried over and sat on the edge of the bed, gently grasping the sleeping girl’s shoulders and feeling them hunched and shuddering. Her dark hair was matted, her pajama top bunched up. She’d kicked her blue duvet to the bottom of the bed—she must be cold.

  “Wake up, it’s OK. You’re just having a bad dream.”

  “They’re coming to get me!” Ella sobbed, struggling to get out of her grasp. “They’re coming, they’re waiting at the door!”

  Cassie held her firmly and eased her into a sitting position, dragging a pillow behind her as she smoothed her rumpled top. Ella was shaking with fear. The way she’d referred to “they” made Cassie wonder if it was a recurring nightmare. What was happening in Ella’s life to trigger such vivid terror in her dreams? The young girl was completely traumatized, and Cassie had no idea of the best way to soothe her. She had vague memories of Jacqui, her sister, waving a broom at a cupboard to chase off an imaginary monster. But that terror had its roots in reality. The nightmares had started after Cassie had hidden in the cupboard during one of her father’s drunken rages.

  She wondered whether Ella’s fear was also grounded in something that had happened. She’d have to try and find out later, but for now, she needed to convince her that the demons ha
d gone.

  “Nobody’s coming for you. It’s all OK. Take a look. I’m here and the light’s on.”

  Ella’s eyes opened wide. Tear-filled, they stared at Cassie for a moment and then her head turned, focusing on something behind her.

  Still spooked by her own nightmare and Ella’s insistence on seeing “them,” Cassie looked quickly round, her heart accelerating as the door banged open.

  Margot stood in the doorway, hands on hips. She wore a turquoise silk dressing gown and her blonde hair was tied in a loose braid. Her perfect features were marred only by a residual smudge of mascara.

  Fury emanated from her and Cassie felt her insides shrink.

  “What took you so long?” Margot snapped. “Ella’s crying woke us up, it went on for hours! We had a late night—we are not paying you to have our sleep disturbed!”

  Cassie stared at her, confused by the fact that Ella’s well-being was seemingly the last thing on Margot’s mind.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. Ella was clinging to her and making it impossible for her to stand and face her employer. “I came as soon as I heard her, but the light in the bedroom had blown, it was completely dark, so it took me a while to get—”

  “Yes, it took you too long, and this is now your first warning! Pierre works long hours and he becomes angry when the children wake him.”

  “But…” With a surge of defiance, the question sprang to Cassie’s lips. “Couldn’t you have come to Ella if you heard her crying? It’s my first night, and I didn’t know where anything was in the dark. I’ll do better next time, I promise, but I mean, she’s your child and she was having a terrible dream.”

  Margot stepped toward Cassie, her face taut. For a moment Cassie thought she was going to offer a snapped apology and that they would reach a strained truce together.

  But that didn’t happen.

  Instead, Margot’s hand whipped out and she struck Cassie hard across the face.

  Cassie bit back a scream, blinking tears away as Ella’s cries escalated. Her cheek burned from the blow, the bump on her head was throbbing harder, and her mind was reeling in horror from the realization that her new employer was violent.

  “Before you were hired, a kitchen maid did your duties. And can do so again, we have many servants. This is your second warning. I do not tolerate laziness, nor staff talking back. Your third offense will mean instant dismissal. Now, stop the child’s crying, so we can get some sleep at last.”

  She marched out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

  Frantically, Cassie bundled Ella in her arms, feeling overwhelming relief as her loud sobs subsided.

  “It’s OK,” she whispered. “It’s all right, don’t worry. Next time I’ll come to you sooner, I will be able to find my way better. Would you like me to sleep here the rest of the night? And we could leave your bedside lamp on to be extra safe?”

  “Yes, please stay. You can help stop them coming back,” Ella whispered. “And leave the light on. I don’t think they like it.”

  The room was furnished in shades of neutral blue, but the bedside lamp, with its pink lampshade, was a bright and comforting item.

  Even as she consoled Ella, Cassie felt ready to throw up, and realized her hands were trembling violently. She wriggled under the covers, glad of their warmth because she was freezing cold.

  How could she possibly keep working for an employer who verbally and physically abused her in front of the children? It was unthinkable, inexcusable, and it brought back too many of her own memories that she’d managed to forget. First thing in the morning, she should pack up and get out.

  But… she’d received no payment yet; she’d have to wait till month’s end to have any money at all. There was no way she could afford the taxi ride back to the airport, never mind the expense of changing her flight ticket.

  There was also the question of the children.

  How could she leave them in the hands of this violent, unpredictable woman? They needed someone to care for them—especially young Ella. She could not sit here, consoling her and promising everything would be all right, only to disappear the very next day.

  With a sick feeling, Cassie realized there was no choice. She could not leave at this point. She was financially and morally compelled to stay.

  She’d just have to try and balance on the tightrope of Margot’s temper, to avoid committing her third and final offense.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Cassie opened her eyes, staring at the unfamiliar ceiling in confusion. It took her a few moments to orient herself and to realize where she was—in Ella’s bed, with the morning light streaming through a gap in the curtains. Ella was still sleeping soundly, half buried under the duvet. The back of Cassie’s head throbbed when she moved, the pain reminding her of everything that had happened last night.

  She sat up hurriedly, remembering Margot’s words, the stinging slap, and the warnings she’d received. Yes, she had been at fault for not attending to Ella immediately, but nothing that happened after that had been fair. When she’d tried to stand up for herself, she had only been punished further. So perhaps she needed to calmly discuss some house rules with the Dubois family this morning, to make sure this wouldn’t happen again.

  Why hadn’t her alarm gone off yet? She’d set it for six-thirty, hoping this would mean a punctual arrival for breakfast at seven.

  Cassie checked her phone and found with a shock that the battery was dead. The constant searching for signal must have drained it faster than usual. Climbing quietly out of bed, she went back to her room, plugged it into the charger, and waited anxiously for it to power up.

  She swore under her breath when she saw it was nearly seven-thirty. She’d overslept, and would now have to get everyone up and ready as fast as possible.

  Hurrying back to Ella’s room, Cassie pulled back the curtain.

  “Good morning,” she said. “It’s a beautiful sunny day, and it’s breakfast time.”

  But Ella didn’t want to get up. She must have battled to fall asleep after her bad dream and she’d woken in a mood. Grumpy and tired, she clung tearfully to the duvet when Cassie tried to pull it back. Eventually, remembering the candy she’d brought with her, Cassie resorted to bribery to get her out of bed.

  “If you’re ready in five minutes, you can have a chocolate.”

  Even then, further struggles lay ahead. Ella refused to put on the outfit Cassie selected for her.

  “I want to wear a dress today,” she insisted.

  “But Ella, you might be cold if we go outside.”

  “Don’t care. I want to wear a dress.”

  Cassie finally managed to compromise by choosing the warmest dress she could find—a long-sleeved corduroy frock, with long socks and fleece-lined boots. Ella sat on the bed, legs swinging, lower lip quivering. One child was finally ready, but there were another two still to go.

  When she opened Marc’s bedroom door, she was relieved to see he was awake and out of bed already. Clad in red pajamas, he was playing with an army of soldiers scattered over the floor. The large steel toy box below his bed was open, surrounded by model cars and an entire herd of farm animals. Cassie had to step carefully to avoid standing on any of them.

  “Hello, Marc. Shall we go to breakfast? What do you want to wear?”

  “I don’t want to wear anything. I want to play,” Marc retorted.

  “You can carry on playing afterwards, but not now. We’re late, and we must hurry.”

  Marc’s response was to burst into noisy tears.

  “Please don’t cry,” Cassie begged him, aware of the precious minutes ticking away. But his tears escalated, as if he were feeding off her panic. He flatly refused to change out of his pajamas and not even the promise of chocolate could change his mind. Eventually, at her wits’ end, Cassie wedged a pair of slippers on his feet. Taking his hand in hers and placing a soldier in his pajama pocket, she persuaded him to follow her out.

  When she knocked on Antoinette’s door, ther
e was no response. The room was empty and the bed neatly made with a pink nightdress folded on the pillow. Hopefully, Antoinette had made her own way to breakfast.

  Pierre and Margot were already seated in the informal dining room. Pierre was wearing a business suit, and Margot was also smartly dressed, with her makeup perfectly done and her hair curled over her shoulders. She looked up when they walked in, and Cassie felt her face start to blaze. Quickly, she helped Ella into a chair.

  “Sorry we’re a little late,” she apologized, feeling flustered and as if she was already on the back foot. “Antoinette wasn’t in her room. I’m not sure where she is.”

  “She has finished breakfast, and is practicing her piano piece.” Pierre gestured his head in the direction of the music room before pouring more coffee. “Listen. Perhaps you recognize the music—‘The Blue Danube.’”

  Faintly, Cassie heard an accurate rendition of a tune that did indeed sound familiar.

  “She is very talented,” Margot offered, but the sour tone of her comment didn’t match the words. Cassie glanced at her nervously. Was she going to say anything about what had happened last night?

  But, as Margot stared back in cool silence, Cassie suddenly wondered if she’d misremembered some of it. The back of her head was tender and swollen from where she’d slipped, but when she touched the left side of her face, there was no bruise from the stinging slap. Or maybe it had been the right side? It was frightening that she couldn’t remember now. She pressed her fingers into her right cheek, but there was no soreness there, either.

  Cassie told herself firmly to stop worrying about the details. She could not possibly have been thinking clearly after a hard bang on the head and possible concussion. Margot had definitely threatened her, but Cassie’s own imagination could have conjured up the actual blow. After all, she’d been exhausted, disoriented, and had emerged straight from the throes of a nightmare.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by Marc demanding breakfast, and she poured orange juice for the children, serving them food from the breakfast trays. Ella insisted on taking every last piece of ham and cheese, so Cassie made do with a jam croissant and some sliced fruit.