The Man In The Mirror

by Georgia Le Carre

  My hand was reaching for the light switch when I woke up.

  I shot up from the bed, panting, sweat beaded across my forehead. The first weak rays of the morning sun were already pouring through my opened window. I looked down at myself in shock. My panties were drenched. The memory of the ache was still so poignant I shot my gaze around the room, certain that someone had been there, and between my legs.

  I had never before had a dream that had felt so excruciatingly real. My core throbbed still. I glanced at the time on my phone and jumped up. Zackary’s breakfast was scheduled for 8.00 a.m. sharp, but before then, the matter of a bath and the right attire for the first part of the day was needed.

  It was already 7:30 a.m. I was off to a bad start.

  Chapter 12

  Charlotte

  Throwing my clothes on and without even taking a shower, I hurried over to Zackary’s room. I found him still sound asleep. As gently as I could, I woke him up. He didn’t seem surprised to see me, and actually gave me quite an angelic smile. As I was still practically a stranger to him, I thought he might cry or protest when I started to dress him, but he meekly stood still and allowed me to get on with it.

  As a matter of fact, he hardly spoke.

  A situation I found unnerving, because most children can’t stop talking. They chatter incessantly, and are intensely curious about everything. On my first day at a job I am usually bombarded with all kinds of personal questions. Are you married? Have you got kids? Why? Don’t you want kids, and on, and on.

  Questions from Zackary? Nada.

  He also hardly ever made eye contact. After a quick breakfast of toast and eggs, which he ate without any real appetite and almost mechanically, I decided that taking him to the garden would be no good. He needed mental stimulation. Possibly from other kids or a new environment. In my opinion there was nothing a good ride down a slide and a few tumbles in the sand perhaps with some other kids could not cure.

  I asked Mrs. Blackmore if there was a playground in the village and her eyes nearly popped out of her head. Before she could open her mouth and remind me about the all-pervasive Instruction List, I told her I had spoken to Mr. King who had insisted that I take him out. I didn’t tell her I only had permission to take him to the garden. Despite the look of fear, she arranged for us to be chauffeur-driven in an hour’s time.

  We got into a baby blue Rolls Royce. Some animation came into Zackary’s face, not much, but I still considered it progress.

  “Where are we going?”

  “To the park,” I said with a smile.

  He turned his head and stared out of the car. As we passed an old-fashioned sweet shop I told the driver to stop. According to my list of do and don’ts all colored sweets were strictly off limits.

  “Come on,” I said, and despite the quiet look from the chauffeur, I took the child into the shop.

  There was a bell on the door which tinkled as we walked into the shop. Even before the door had shut behind us our nostrils were filled with the sweet smell of sugar in all its forms. Zackary’s eyes became as big as saucers. “I’m not allowed to eat sweets,” he informed me gravely, “they’re bad for me.” His eyes begged me to say it was all right just this one time.

  “You’re not allowed to eat anything with preservatives, additives, and artificial colors,” I said, “but we’re going to have something.” I winked. “Almost healthy.”

  For the first time since we met, his lips pulled upwards in a real, child’s grin.

  We left with a large lollipop made from organic juices and a bag of marshmallows that the lady assured me had no artificial colors or preservatives.

  It was a small park and there were two mothers there with their children. They looked a bit younger than Zackary. To my surprise he refused to look at them. I took him down to the slides which were not being used. I was hoping the children would come and join us, but they didn’t so I caught the eyes of the mothers and smiled at them. They smiled back. Zackary went down the slide three times then, he stopped and looked at me.

  “I’m finished.”

  “Shall we go say hello to the other kids?”

  “No.”

  I pushed the swing for him and he seemed to enjoy it a lot. When he had enough he simply said, “Thank you. I’m finished now.”

  I led him to the sand box, he seemed to be fascinated by the blue and red plastic molds. He began to build his own castle. When other kids came over to join him though, Zackary immediately rose up, and came to me.

  “What is it? Don’t you want to make friends?” I asked, but he wouldn't say a word. He just remained by my side and refused to join the others. He was way too timid for a five-year old boy. I knew he had a class with his reading tutor in an hour so we left.

  I knew disobeying his mother would be trouble but I hoped that once she saw how her son had come out of his shell she would be happy or at least she won’t be mad. Already I could see a slight improvement in his usually somber mood. The exercise in the fresh air had put color in his cheeks and given him an appetite. He gobbled up his lunch, amidst smiles from Mrs. Blackmore. Hopefully, his mother would notice his improvement and be more open to allowing him to socialize even more.

  That was not the case however when a few hours later, she barged into his room. I was sorting out his laundry on the floor but quickly jumped to my feet at the dark fury in her face.

  “You took Zackary to the park today,” she barked, and at the annoyance on her face, my lips parted but no words would come out.

  “Are you out of your tiny, uneducated mind?” she screamed. “Did you not read the instructions I gave to you?”

  I felt anger flash through my veins, but I controlled myself. “I apologize, but you were not around this morning for me to check with you, but his father insisted that I allow him some play time outside today, especially since the weather was beautiful. I told him about your rule but he said that he would speak directly to you about it.”

  Something flashed in her eyes. Was it fear or something else? Whatever it was it was primal and basic. “What did you say?” she asked, almost as if she was unwilling to believe me.

  “Your husband insisted last night that I take Zackary … out.”

  Her eyes burned with dislike. She took a few steps closer, her gaze boring into mine. “Listen very carefully to me because I am not going to say this again. Obviously, you are still unclear about your position in this household. I am your employer, not my husband. I hired you. The contract is between me and your employment agency. Therefore, not only are the instructions I give you not to be so stupidly shared with him, but any instructions he insists on contrary to what I have laid out are to be reported first to me. I am in charge of Zackary, not his father. Have I made myself clear?”

  For a second I wanted to argue back, but something made me hold my tongue. Something told me to step back. There was more at play here than her empty threats and fake anger. She was not livid because I had done something that could have endangered her child. She knew very well her list was bullshit. She was angry because I had spoken to her husband and communicated what any sane person knew. A child should be allowed to run free outside. She blinked and I realized that maybe, she was a little afraid of me too. Of what changes I could bring to the tightly controlled world of her child. Why she wanted it that way I didn’t know yet. But I intended to find out.

  “Yes,” I said slowly. “You have made yourself very clear.”

  “The next time you do cross the line your bags will be out on the street,” she said to me, before turning on her heels and stalking away.

  I turned around and Zackary was standing behind me. His eyes were wide and he was shaking with fear. Walking over to him, I got on my knees, and gathered him close to my chest.

  “Oh, darling. Don’t be afraid. Everything is going to be fine,” I whispered. I could feel his heart thudding fast and loud.

  No matter what happened I wasn’t going to abandon this child until I had made it cle
ar to his father that he had to involve himself in his son’s life, or the boy’s life was going to be ruined.

  Chapter 13

  Brett

  How odd? I had kept myself busy with work all day long, but secretly a part of me had waited to hear her voice. It flowed into my ear like warm honey, and yet what she was saying crushed my heart. “He was timid around other kids?” I asked, frowning.

  “Yes, he was,” she responded. “The moment they tried to join him he stood up and came to me without a word.”

  “Why did he do that? Did he seem nervous?”

  “I don’t know why, but he does always seem to be on guard, as though he is afraid of something, or expecting to be spooked.”

  “Maybe he has been spending too much time in the house, perhaps more visits like this would help to bring him out of his shell.”

  She went quiet.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I was told by Madam this afternoon I can no longer take Zackary out of the castle. Also, I am no longer allowed to take any instructions from you. I am to report only to her … I will lose my job if I disobey her.”

  I cursed myself for not dealing with Jillian earlier. I could see the battle lines had already been drawn with Charlotte. “I’m sorry you have been put in such an awkward position. The fault is mine. I should have spoken to her as soon as she got back from London.”

  “It’s okay. I understand.”

  “You will take him out tomorrow. He is in your care now. I should be able to trust that at all times you will look out for his welfare and only his welfare … without apology or reservation.”

  “You can absolutely depend on that,” she responded. “If it makes you feel any better, Brett, children look small and fragile, but they are extremely resilient. Nothing hurts them for long.”

  I smiled slightly. Suddenly I had a memory of Zackary when he first started walking. He tumbled and fell backwards. The sound of his head hitting the wooden floor was so loud I swear I lost ten years of my life thinking he’d either cracked his skull or suffered brain damage, but other than a few tears there was no lasting damage. “Thank you for telling me that. I appreciate it. I suppose you have a lot of experience with children.”

  She laughed, a warm, beautiful sound.

  “I’ll speak to his mother tonight and sort the problem out, but if you have any issues at all call me immediately using the telecom system.”

  “One more thing before you go …” she began.

  “Yes?”

  “There is not much that is interesting for Zackary to do here. He enjoyed playing on the swing and the slide at the playground. Would it be possible to have a swing set, a slide, or a trampoline installed on the grounds for him?”

  “Of course. That’s a brilliant idea. Well done. I have no experience with children so feel free to suggest anything else you feel will be useful for my son.”

  She hesitated.

  “What is it?” I prompted.

  “Uh, playing with his father would also be of great help. I don’t know how possible that would be, but your presence sometimes would do him a world of good.”

  Her words were like a blow in the gut. There was nothing in the world I would have loved or cherished more, but it was impossible. Not while Zackary was terrified of me. I knew something had to be done, but until Charlotte came into the picture I didn’t know what. I was paralyzed with fear I would make it worse, but I could see a ray of light at the end of the tunnel now and I had already started walking towards it. “Perhaps one day,” I said softly. “I’ll call again tomorrow. Goodnight, Charlotte.”

  I pulled out my phone. Jillian was on the line in moments. “Hello, Brett.”

  “I need to talk to you. Now,” I said.

  She snorted. “Oh, I’m sorry, but this lap dog is not at home now.”

  “You better be here before the hour is up or I leave you without a dime to your name.”

  I hung up the phone before she could say anything else. Then I opened my desktop computer and got to work assessing the project Logan had just sent through. Just before the hour struck, I heard her heels on the stone floor outside my door. I sat back as she strolled into my study. She was furious, but she smiled coldly.

  I didn’t smile back. “Why have you restricted Zackary from playing outside?” I asked.

  She threw her purse onto my desk in annoyance. I kept my gaze on her, but ensured I remained calm.

  “Since when did you start butting into my parental charge of Zackary?”

  I lifted my gaze to hers. “You told me to leave him to you for the time being. You told me you would slowly bring him out of his shell, but if stifling the child is your special method I'm going to have to withdraw that right.”

  Her face instantly hardened. “Don’t you dare,” she hurled to me. “I’m not stifling him. You said it yourself, a child needs his mother.”

  “Not when she seems to be doing more harm than good.”

  She looked at me incredulously. “It seems the nanny has pledged her allegiance to you. Tell me, what did you offer her?”

  I frowned. I didn’t want this to be about the nanny. If we carried on this vein the nanny would be gone in no time. “She has not pledged her allegiance to me. She has nothing to do with this. She simply told me you had instructed her not to take Zackary out when I suggested she do so. Was she lying?” I looked at her sternly.

  She sighed. “Just back off, Brett. I know what I am doing. You'll do Zackary more harm than good. I’m his mother. I know what’s best for my son. Just stay away,” she said, “and leave him to me for now.”

  “Give your permission to the nanny to let our son engage in outdoor activities, otherwise I’ll personally step in.” My voice was pure ice.

  She held my gaze boldly until she realized I meant every word. Snatching her purse from the table, she rounded on me. “How long are we going to keep this up?”

  “Keep what up?”

  She glared at me as though I betrayed her, but we both knew what the truth was. “Are we married?”

  “What’s your point?”

  “You see me go out at night … you know exactly what I’m up to. That I fuck other guys. And yet you say nothing. Don’t you care?”

  I smiled cynically. I would have to be a complete fool to believe she was doing it to get my attention. “Were you doing all that to get a response out of me?”

  “What man who claims to love his wife wouldn’t respond?”

  “I’ve never claimed to love you, Jillian,” I corrected her. “You knew the score from day one. I married you because your father asked me to. I owed my life to him and he had never asked me for anything else, and you were not exactly ugly so I agreed. But as of now the only glue between us is Zackary. If at any point you get tired of your life here and want to leave, there’s nothing holding you back … but Zackary stays.”

  “You think he would want to live with you?” she challenged.

  I felt the blood drain from my face. This woman knew which buttons to press, but my voice was even and calm. “Why? You think he wouldn’t want to because of my scars?”

  “Have you forgotten, he’s terrified of you.”

  It hurt to hear it, but I pretended to chuckle. “So you’ve said, but he won’t be five forever. One day he will understand.”

  “Maybe one day he will, but he needs me now. You’ve seen how attached he is to me.”

  “When was the last time you fed him, hugged him, or even spoke to him?”

  “My father would have been so disappointed in yo—” she began.

  Fury rose up in me like an out of control forest fire. I couldn't control the emotions that swarmed into me at the mention of her father. Until Zackary was born he was the only person I had truly loved. It killed me to see her use him to try to make me feel guilty. “Don't you dare mention him,” I warned through gritted teeth. “The only reason you’re still here is because of him. Never forget that.” Unable to stand another second of her vile p
resence I rose to my feet and ordered her out.

  Chapter 14

  Charlotte

  Dinner with the rest of the household staff was, as usual, a jolly affair. They were a good lot, without airs and graces and after just two nights they had already accepted me as one of the team.

  Even though Mr. Boothsworth looked like a corpse warmed over, he had a dry and clever wit that made me warm to him the most. The Chef had more than enough stories of his escapades with women in the past to shock us all, and Mrs. Blackmore’s snappy side was brought to life every single time the Chef opened his mouth. I was starting to think there might be some kind of chemistry growing between them.

  Once Melly whispered to me that there was talk that there had been something between Mr. Boothsworth and Mrs. Blackmore in the past. The thought, though amusing, was a little bit disconcerting too. I couldn’t imagine a more unsuitable couple.

  It was late when we ended our meals and headed off to retire to our various sections of the house. As Carrie, one of the maids, and I were about to part ways at the top of the stairs, I couldn't stop myself from asking, as innocently as I could, “I heard you've worked here a bit longer than Mrs. Blackmore.”

  “I have,” she replied. “Three years now.”

  “Have you ever seen Zackary’s father?”

  “No, nobody has seen him,” she said.

  “Oh.” I tried my best not to show my disappointment.

  “But I did find a picture of him … it was definitely before the accident since there were absolutely no scars on his face.”

  “Where is it?” I asked. “Could you show it to me?”

  She looked around for a moment before returning her gaze back to me. “I can, but … it would be a rather dangerous mission.”

  “What do you mean?”