Heller's Regret

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Heller's Regret Page 13

by JD Nixon


  Heller kissed my forehead and sat next to me when he arrived, draping his arm around my shoulders. I refused when Daniel offered to get me a glass of wine. I wondered if I’d ever drink again.

  The evening passed quickly. I looked around at everyone, unbelievably grateful to be safe and with them all again, even Clive. Much later, when I drowsed against Heller’s shoulder as they chatted on, he took me back to his place and I had one of the best sleeps I’d managed for ages, waking up a few times to find him looking down at me, intensely tender.

  “Don’t you ever sleep?” I murmured.

  “Not with you here to look at,” he smiled.

  “And that is not creepy at all.”

  “I never thought it was,” he teased.

  I fell asleep again, snuggling his comforting form.

  Chapter 12

  The days passed peacefully. I visited my parents a couple of times, but my mother’s over-the-top fussing about my appearance and her insistence in trying to force feed me an enormous three-course meal impossible for me to finish, had me fleeing in haste both times.

  A couple of weeks later, a small package arrived in the mail for me. Puzzled, I opened it to find the heavy gold locket with Samuel’s portrait inside and a letter from a lawyer. Miss Grimsley had left me the locket in her will. Though probate of her estate hadn’t been finalised, the dry, detailed missive advised me I was the only beneficiary besides the charity to whom Miss Grimsley had bequeathed her house, furniture and personal effects. As there were no remaining Grimsley relatives to contest the will, and the locket was a “mere trinket in value compared to the rest of the estate”, the lawyer thought it advisable to send it to me without haste.

  A jolt of strong emotion shook me when I opened the locket and looked down on that sweet little face again. Of course I was touched by Miss Grimsley’s gesture, remembering how much the locket meant to her, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to keep it. The memories attached to it held too much unhappiness for me.

  Heller, noticing the uncertainty in my face, gently took the locket from my hand. He placed it in his office safe, so I didn’t have to have it in my flat at least.

  “We’ll leave it there until you know what you want to do with it. Judging by its weight and the colour of it, the amount of solid gold in both the chain and locket makes it quite valuable.” A tentative moment later, he advised, “You could sell it.”

  “I could never sell it,” I said, shocked.

  “Guess you’ve already decided then. Do you want to leave it in the safe?”

  “Yes, please.”

  I really didn’t want it in my flat because I didn’t trust myself not to take it out and brood over the miniature portrait, creating fresh doubts in my mind about the existence of ‘my’ Samuel.

  After another week of enforced rest, I felt ready to return to work. Although still too thin, my energy level had improved enormously and my wounds were healing well.

  Out of the blue, Dr Reid rang me one day. By then, with the events of that strange situation fading through time and the locket safely kept from me, I felt much better, my dreams of Rose disturbing my sleep only on rare occasions. I turned down his further offer of counselling.

  “Yours was a very unusual and remarkable case, Tilly. I’ve never had one even remotely similar. I’d love to write about it in an article for a medical journal. The fact that you were so adamant about having stayed with a real boy, despite the hard evidence to the contrary is fascinating. Your knowledge about the location of his body is as well.”

  “I only knew because he led me there.”

  “A lot of psychiatrists and psychologists would be very interested in this case. Would you give me your permission to write the article?”

  I hesitated, not keen on the idea. “I don’t know. I’d have to leave that decision up to Heller as I was on assignment for him at the time. I wouldn’t like to approve anything that involved his business without his agreement.”

  “All your personal information would be completely de-identified. Absolutely no one would know it was you or the name of Mr Heller’s business.”

  “I would know,” I replied, perhaps with a smidgeon too much sharpness. “You really need to ring Heller about this.”

  “I was afraid you’d say that. It doesn’t take much imagination to figure out he’s going to refuse.”

  “You’re probably right. I’m sorry.”

  He sighed heavily. “I’ll give it a try anyway.”

  “Dr Reid, before you go I want to thank you for all the help you gave me and for being so patient and considerate.”

  He laughed. “I’m not going to bully a pretty young woman in distress, am I?”

  “Flatterer. Good luck talking to Heller.”

  As I ended the call, I decided I’d really had enough of that assignment, tired of how it had dominated my life for so long. I didn’t want to speak about it, or even think about it, ever again. I’d managed to come out the other side of the experience alive and sane. It was time for me to firmly put it behind me and move on with my life. The best way to do that was to return to work.

  I went into Heller’s office the next morning and waited patiently while he finished up what he was doing. He saved the file and greeted me with a smile.

  “Come to drag me upstairs to treat me to some wild sex?”

  “Ha! You wish. Wasn’t last night enough for you?”

  “No amount of sexy time with you is ever enough for me.”

  I snortled in amusement. “Sexy time? Is that what we’re calling it now?”

  “Why not? You’re very sexy during that time, so it’s factually true.”

  “You’re sexy any time. But I haven’t come in to discuss exactly just how ridiculously sexy you are, I’ve come to talk about returning to work. I’m ready for another assignment.”

  “Are you sure, my sweet?”

  “Positive. If I’m up to tangoing with you in bed, I’m up to dealing with another assignment.”

  “I’ll have to think about this. Your health has improved significantly, but you’re still too thin.” He stood and came around the table to cup my cheek in his hand. “You seem so fragile to me. I’m not sure I want you to work just yet.”

  I protested immediately. “I can’t sit around forever. I have to earn a living.”

  “Not necessarily.”

  “I’m not going to become your full-time, on-call sex playmate.”

  “Why ever not? Such a job comes with many benefits.”

  “Heller, just give me an assignment.”

  Seeing that I wasn’t going to budge from that position, he returned behind his desk and flicked thoughtfully through the database of current and future assignments.

  “Whatever job I send you on will have to be non-strenuous. And I’m going to send one of my more trusted men along with you.”

  “Okay. I really don’t want to do another assignment by myself at the moment. At least if something goes terribly wrong this time, someone will know and it won’t escalate out of control.”

  Guilt flashed across his face. “Nothing will happen to you, Matilda.”

  “I’m sorry, but I’ve heard that too many times to give it credence any longer. I believe you assured me of my safety in the last assignment and the one before that and the one before that, and well, you get the idea.”

  Guilt blossomed into pain, twisting his face. Our conversation had taken a sudden sharp detour into something less flirty, something less easy for us to discuss. And though I hadn’t meant to sound so cold with him, I didn’t want to subject my body to any more stress. I’d never mentioned it to him, of course, but some nights I’d lay awake pondering over whether it would be best for me to totally quit working for him and find a safe, predicable job instead.

  “Your last assignment was something I’ve never experienced before and I’ve been doing security work for a long time. But I understand your feelings about this, Matilda.”

  “I don’t think you really do u
nderstand, Heller. I don’t think you can. I’ve internalised everything that’s happened to me since I started working for you. It’s become part of me and some of its very ugly and dark. I come from a nice family and had a happy upbringing with my family and friends. I don’t want this dark ugliness inside me because I feel like I can never erase it. Maybe I’m just not cut out for security work.”

  “Security work is usually very straight-forward. You’ve encountered some unusual assignments which none of my men have ever experienced.”

  “Why don’t you send me on those straight-forwards jobs?”

  He sighed. “Matilda, I honestly believe that no matter what kind of job I send you on, you would run into difficulties of some type.”

  “Are you saying it’s my fault these things happen to me?”

  “No. Don’t read things into my words that I didn’t say.” He cut short the argument that threatened to happen between us, perhaps recognising the warning signs in me. “I’ll find you a very boring job. You’ll be on your feet, standing all day either guarding something or watching over something. By the end of the assignment, you’ll be begging me for something more interesting.”

  “I hope so. Let me know when you’ve found one.”

  “I will.”

  Eventually he called me back down to his office. I sat in one of his chairs, impatient to hear about my new job.

  “Your partner should be here soon,” he said, not tearing his eyes from his monitor.

  “I’m bored of waiting.”

  “Matilda, it’s been about two minutes since you arrived.”

  “Maybe, but it’s been three days since you said you’d find me a new assignment.”

  “Good assignments don’t just drop into my lap every hour.”

  He picked up his phone, about to make a call, when Farrell entered his office and sat down without an invitation.

  “You took your time,” said Heller quietly, hanging up the phone.

  “It’s only been ten minutes since you summoned me and I told you then I was in the middle of something important that would take ten minutes to finish.”

  Heller shot him a long cool glance, before deciding to let that comment slide. He knew Farrell was smart enough not to show his annoyance again. “Matilda’s been cooped up for a long time and has been bugging me –”

  “Asking you,” I interrupted, not bothering to hide my annoyance.

  “– bugging me for a new assignment. I’m handing her over to you for a while.”

  “Okay,” said Farrell, displaying no emotion. I couldn’t tell if he was pleased or not to be saddled with me, but I knew I was happy about it. I always felt . . . safe when I was with him.

  Heller explained the assignment to us. “An upmarket department store has organised a showcase display of some extremely valuable jewellery. They obviously require some security staff to guard it.” His blue eyes landed on me. “Matilda, I’m afraid the department store is located in that shopping centre you love so much.”

  I groaned heartily. “I don’t love that centre, I hate it. I don’t want to return to it ever again. Nothing good ever happens to me there. What if I run into Miss Petunia?”

  “Then you’ll ignore her, which is the only courtesy she deserves.” He turned to Farrell. “I can’t stress enough the value of this collection. In fact, it’s irreplaceable.”

  “Who does the jewellery belong to?” I asked, curious.

  “The collection belonged to some duchess. It’s part of the duchy’s private collection and has never been on display before, not even in the ancestral home. I didn’t ask for more information.” As long as he was paid, he didn’t care about those kinds of details, but I did.

  “Why is it so valuable?”

  “Because she lived and died in the eighteenth century after marrying into one of the great duchies in the UK. After she married, her greatest passion in life was collecting jewellery to add to the duchy’s already vast collection. Most of the jewellery is very rare and the gemstones are of exceptional quality. She had a sharp eye for excellent jewellery.” He spoiled my fantasy of him as a jewellery connoisseur by adding, “The store manager told me all of this as background during our initial discussion.”

  “When do we start?” asked Farrell.

  “You have a meeting with the store manager at eight tomorrow morning.” He swivelled his chair back to face his computer in an unmistakable gesture of dismissal. Taking the hint, we made moves to leave.

  “Meet me in the security section at seven sharp tomorrow morning,” Farrell snapped at me outside Heller’s office. “And don’t be late.”

  “Why does everyone always say that to me?” But I was speaking to thin air as he’d already disappeared through the doorway.

  The next morning, I woke bright and chirpy, ready for action though the deepest cuts on my arms ached a little. My uniform looked too baggy on me, but there was little I could do to improve my appearance beyond tightening the belt another couple of notches.

  I beat Farrell to the security section. Clive was there, but he ignored my arrival, so I ignored him right back. It wasn’t a sustainable or mature way to manage our work situation, but if he wasn’t willing to move even the tiniest bit towards meeting me in the middle, I refused to make all the effort in repairing our fractured relationship.

  I had time to indulge in a caffeine hit before my official starting time, but the coffee pot was caked with layers of accumulated gunge built up since the last time I’d scrubbed it. I’d once asked one of the men how could he stand to drink from it and he’d merely grunted, saying that the burnt-on old coffee “added flavour”.

  So instead, I spent the time perusing some of the notices pinned to the section’s corkboard. They were mostly new requirements or changes to existing requirements regarding the security industry. Running a business in a heavily regulated industry, Heller insisted that all his staff keep up to date on changes. In many ways he was an excellent boss, not hesitating to send his men on training courses where he thought they’d enhance their skills. On occasion, government inspectors turned up unannounced to check the licences of all the staff present in the building. In those circumstances, he was unfailingly polite and helpful, secure in the knowledge his accounting was accurate and orderly, his weaponry all registered, and all his men possessed current licences and had completed any compulsory training proscribed by the government. I’d seen the inspectors in action and they always left empty-handed after their visits, not able to fault him on anything. I’d gathered through the time I’d known him that he was definitely someone who didn’t want the government snooping unnecessarily around his business. I often wondered if I’d ever find out why that was so, but decided it was probably best if I didn’t.

  When Farrell turned up, I made an ostentatious display of checking my watch, shaking my head and tutting loudly. I didn’t miss his secret smile, the barest turning up of the corner of one lip. I told myself he enjoyed it when I teased him. Though not a man naturally prone to showing mirth, I knew from experience he had an excellent sense of humour.

  He took some time to adjust his belt, stepping into Clive’s office for a quick word about something I couldn’t hear – not that I was trying or anything, honestly.

  “You ready, Chalmers?” he asked, leaving the office.

  “What do you think, Hugh? I’m not just standing here looking pretty.”

  “You’ve got that right,” he replied, heading out the door. I scurried to catch up to him. “You look like a bag of bones.”

  “Aw, don’t be mean. I look a lot better now than I did a few weeks ago.”

  “That wouldn’t take much.”

  He strode to the locked key box, swiping his ID card. He glanced around the garage, spotting the car he wanted. He picked the key off its hook and signed it out.

  Free of the ever watchful spies and cameras in the Warehouse, on the drive over to the shopping centre he asked, “Are you feeling better?”

  “Yes, though
I have to admit I’m a little nervous about beginning another assignment. I hope this one is as boring as Heller promised.”

  “It will be boring enough, but you know I’ll be there for you if anything happens.”

  “I know. Thank you.”

  “I don’t know what Heller would do to me if I let anything happen to you, but I can imagine.”

  I smiled wryly. “It wouldn’t be pretty.”

  “No.”

  “He called you one of his trusted men. I’m always surprised when he lets me go on an assignment with you, considering . . . you know.”

  “He does trust me because I’m a good, reliable worker and he trusts me to look after you, because of . . . you know. And he’s one of those rare people easily able to separate his business from his personal life.”

  “That’s true.”

  We parked the car and walked through the shopping centre to the department store. All the while, I kept my eyes peeled for any sign of Miss Petunia, but thankfully didn’t see her. In the awful event that our paths ever did cross, I hoped she wouldn’t recognise me in my uniform with my hair pulled back, especially as I’d lost so much weight recently.

  We found the manager waiting for us outside the closed doors of the store. I’d wondered if it would be Ted, a nice man I’d worked for very briefly during a strange encounter, but it was another man – a suavely dressed, well-groomed person.

  “Ah, good. You’re here on time,” the man said when he saw us approaching. He didn’t offer us his hand, only his name, Jean-Michel Smith. I thought that was an unusual combination of names, though of course I kept that observation to myself being the professional that I was.

  “Follow me,” he said, leading the way.

  He unlocked the small door to the side of the enormous security rollers. We followed him to his office on the top floor of the store.

  “Take a seat,” he said brusquely, already checking his watch as if we were taking up his precious time. “I presume your boss has given you some background to the collection.” We both nodded. “Good. I wanted you here so I could stress the immense value of the jewellery. It’s been lent especially to us from the duchy trust and I don’t want anything to happen to it.” He cast me an unimpressed look. “You don’t look like much of a security officer. My nine-year-old daughter could probably beat you in a fight.”

 

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