by J. A. Kerr
Almost two years now since their affair, the hurt and humiliation was finally receding. Those days, weeks, and months after his break-up from Anna had been like a wilderness. He’d travelled where the next case took him like a nomad, no longer caring where, his only concern getting a result. Each case received his full and undivided attention.
He became the best, often the one who made the first breakthrough, leading the team forward and eventually cracking the case. His reputation grew, and he was very much in demand. It was to be his only comfort, so when his impending retirement reared its ugly head, he’d felt utter panic. He’d been fooling himself, unwilling to acknowledge his career was coming to an end. He let himself be swept along by the process. Dazed, he found himself with no job and time on his hands. His retirement lump sum sat untouched in his bank account. He returned to his flat with no idea how to fill his days.
One morning he’d been looking through the newspaper half-heartedly when a job advertisement from Harrison’s caught his eye. He applied on a whim, not sure how he felt when he received an invitation to attend an interview. At first he dismissed it; he needed neither the money nor the hassle, but something made him leave the interview letter on the table. He had a week to decide.
It passed quickly as he continued to dither until he reached a conclusion: he simply had nothing to lose by attending. His decision made, he straightened his tie for the umpteenth time that morning and scanned his immaculate jacket and trousers, relieved when he found nothing. Arriving promptly at his destination, he was surprised by the condition of the building, which was still under construction. An elegant woman, who introduced herself as Grace, showed him into a room. She smiled and offered him refreshments—he liked her immediately. He politely declined and waited, neither nervous nor anxious, his eyes missing nothing as they scanned the interior.
He stood when Benedict Harrison entered and introduced himself. They shook hands firmly. Good at reading people, he was momentarily stumped, unable to get a handle on the man who sat before him. Benedict’s eyes and body gave nothing away, and yet Guy found himself liking the man. As he described the job, Guy knew at once he was interested.
When Benedict stopped talking they sat in companionable silence as Guy absorbed the information. He knew the job would be a difficult and demanding one—was he ready for the challenge? Benedict had left nothing out, including the need to sign certain confidentiality agreements, but that wasn’t unusual in this day and age, although he was curious. No fool, he knew he wasn’t the only candidate they would be interviewing. A balance must be struck; he wanted the job, but needed to manage his expectations. With no experience at managing a retail operation, his IT skills and police background couldn’t compete against a candidate who possessed these qualities. They might want someone younger or perhaps someone already running a private members club. He would be informed in due course.
When Guy received a further letter and interview time, he felt a little thrill. Entering the building again, it felt strangely like home. He smiled when Benedict sat down, their instant liking for each reconfirmed. He felt happy to work for and be with this man. Something told him this job would be different, his inner police instinct sensing all was not what it appeared.
He had no problem signing the confidentiality agreements but was puzzled as to why it was necessary before Benedict could go into detail about the job. A stunning woman entered the room and sat next to Benedict; she introduced herself as Siena. She handed Guy the forms. He read them, and happy with the content, signed his name where required. Siena turned and faced him. He was struck by her beauty. She had his full attention as she introduced him to the Braille Club—suddenly everything became crystal clear.
His pulse started to beat faster as he listened, the sensation odd after the numbness he felt over the last years. He could feel the strong chemistry between the couple as Benedict took over where Siena left off. Guy didn’t respond straight away when he’d finished, surprise leaving him momentarily speechless when offered the job. Benedict’s frown of worry soon disappeared as Guy stood and held out his hand, a smile changing his otherwise sombre face.
“I’d be delighted to accept the position,” he answered warmly.
“Welcome to Harrison’s,” said Benedict, his opaque eyes suddenly clearing as he took Guy’s hand.
“Welcome to the Braille Club,” Siena breathed happily, also shaking his hand, her grip firm as she stood next to Benedict. Guy felt something close to happiness as he looked at the couple in front of him. They would provide the perfect distraction from Anna while connecting him with a new and exciting future, a future he was looking forward to.
Chapter 10
The Braille Club, London, One Year On: The Braille Chair was central to everything, and it had also evolved. The seat was memory foam, it moulded to your frame. The upright section of the chair had been fitted with new internal pulses, as had the bottom section, complete with foot rest. They pushed out to connect intimately with shoulders, calves, and thighs. Those sensitised areas had members gasping and bells ringing.
London 2014
Siena
When Siena opened her eyes in the morning she was alone in bed and the house felt strangely quiet. She wondered whether Benedict had spoken to her parents yet. Their arrival would be a godsend. As she struggled to sit up, the pain made her grit her teeth. She glanced at her watch, shocked to see it was after 11 a.m. How could she have slept so late? Her stomach clenched as she remembered the DNA results. Did Benedict know already? Had he answered their lawyer’s call?
Still sore, she swung her legs out of bed and found her jeans, taking the crumpled paper out and slipping it inside her dressing gown pocket. She took her time as she made her way downstairs and walked into the kitchen, expecting to find Benedict and the twins there, but it was empty. Heart thumping, she called Benedict’s name as she moved through the house but there was no reply; she went back to the kitchen, looking for her cell when she saw his note.
Call me when you get up. x
She ignored the missed calls logged on her screen and dialled Benedict’s number, jumping when his phone rang in the kitchen. It was plugged into the socket above the granite worktop; he must have forgotten it this morning. Siena exhaled. Where were they? She made herself a coffee and picked up his phone. She quickly scrolled into his recent calls when the phone rang. Private caller flashed onto the screen and she let it go to the answer machine. Then her own mobile rang and again private caller flashed onto the screen. She answered it.
“Hello,” she said nervously.
“I’ve forgotten my phone,” said Benedict, his voice tense.
“Yes, it’s here. You left it charging in the kitchen. Where are the twins?”
“With Grace,” he said abruptly. “The lawyers have been in touch, they’ve told me they’re pressing for the DNA results. They think they’ve been issued. Something the defence lawyer let slip.”
Siena struggled to think, saying the first thing that came to mind. “Are the twins okay? Has Grace got everything she needs?”
“Yes, they’re fine. Did you hear what I said?”
Siena said nothing as her fingers curled around the paper in her pocket.
“Siena?” Benedict’s voice sounded strained.
“Yes?” Her voice broke.
“What’s wrong?” he asked softly.
Siena paused. The desire to share everything almost overwhelmed her, but then she thought of her children. “Nothing…just tired, worried, and sore,” she lied. The silence seemed to go on forever, like he wasn’t convinced. “Benedict, are you still there?” she asked.
“Grace has taken the twins to the park,” said Benedict, changing the subject.
“That’s kind of her,” Siena murmured.
***
Benedict
“Siena, we will get through this,” said Benedict, his voice hollow. He sensed she was troubled…what was she hiding from him? “I’ll be home soon.” He sighed deep
ly, ending the call.
Grace had offered to stay longer when they’d gotten home last night, but Benedict gently refused. She had done enough, and he was grateful, but could manage. Bath and bedtime for the twins had taken precedence, and he had not called their lawyer as planned. By the time he got the twins settled, he crawled into the spare room, exhausted. He didn’t want Siena disturbed. He’d unplugged the baby monitor from their room earlier.
On his way home from Harrison’s, his mind dwelled on her panic attack. It was the worst yet. What had been the trigger? Dark memories flooded his mind. He tried not to think of Nick Waters, but it was impossible. He gripped the steering wheel. With grim determination, he closed down his thoughts because he needed to concentrate…he needed to get home. His flat had been unsuitable for them to move into as a family. He’d put it on the market and rented as a stop gap until they found something more permanent. The rental was a modern home, a little further out than he would have liked but it had other impressive features.
Their top priority had been security. Set back from the road with an enclosed garden, it had that in spades; with full CCTV security cameras and electric gates. Its windows and doors were new and secure, but still he worried. Siena and the twins were vulnerable, but she refused to let him employ full-time security. Guy had a number of trusted retired colleagues who were suitable and vetted, but still she said no. She told him she could not live with the intrusion; it was bad enough with the press outside their home without a stranger within. He saw Siena was under strain as the trial dragged on, at breaking point.
He immediately backed down, her tears of distress like a knife in his chest. God, if he could get his hand on Nick Waters…he’d make him suffer…he’d make him pay. Siena had been so strong throughout but as her testimony approached, she had become anxious and on edge. Her beautiful face was drawn and she had dark shadows beneath her frightened eyes. The twins were the only ones to make her smile.
Reeva was her mother’s image with white blonde curls and bright blue eyes that missed nothing. Her nature was gentle and sweet. Leo, in contrast, had dark curls and hazel eyes. He was quieter than his sister but also protective of her. Siena’s face lit up when she was with them. Like any new mum she was enthralled by her twins and didn’t have time to dwell. But when the twins were asleep or when she thought he wasn’t looking, he saw her face crumple with absolute despair as her fingers fluttered to her throat.
He found it hard to contain his rage at times. He had become very close to Guy, the shared experience of rescuing Siena a strong bond. Guy had been instrumental in finding her and understood only too well Benedict’s need for revenge; he’d been there, after all. The brutality of the attack was still fresh in both their minds as they worked together. They never spoke of it directly but just being with Guy was a comfort.
Benedict swung into the driveway, hitting the remote to open the gates. He tried to remain calm when every instinct he had screamed something was terribly wrong.
Chapter 11
The Braille Club, London, One Year On: The sensory suit now came as one entity. You slipped your feet into it and pulled it up your body before inserting your hands into the arms, and then your fingers into the gloves. The sleeves had zips that closed the suit right up to the wearer’s neck. This gave the patron two new areas to experiment on. The hand is extremely sensitive. Close your eyes…trace your fingertips over the palm of your hand…your mind tells you what you are experiencing. Now imagine that all over your body.
London 2014
Guy
Guy was looking into equipment development. Their first attempts delivered an adequate experience, but Siena had big plans in her head. Guy was gifted with technology but what they really needed was an engineer. Someone they could work with, someone with foresight and imagination.
They set to work to find him or her and one name kept coming back to them again and again: Crawford Monroe. They’d made contact with him but pinning down the elusive Mr. Monroe was like pinning down vapour; visible but unattainable. Guy reached out through his contacts and stumbled across a piece of information by chance. He still had friends on the force and, in fact, knew Glasgow quite well. A coincidence, but his memory remembered a colleague whose brother’s friend was a hotshot in engineering.
Michael Shields had been surprised by his call and had gladly given Guy his brother Danny’s number. When he had spoken to him, Danny was not surprised he’d been unable to speak with his friend Crawford Monroe.
“Sounds about right, he’s all over the world, so it’s best you email him. Do you realise what he charges?”
Guy hesitated. “I’ve heard he’s the best.”
“He’s very specialised. What are you after?”
“I’m afraid that’s confidential, Danny.”
“Ouch, don’t give me that ‘if I tell you I’ll have to kill you’ shite,” grunted Danny.
Guy smiled. “It’s more than my job’s worth,” he apologised.
“Aye, that old chestnut. Do you have a pen handy? I’ll give you his email address.”
They chatted for a while longer before saying their goodbyes. With Danny coming up trumps, Guy lost no time in contacting Mr. Monroe.
***
Ford
Ford looked at the email from Guy thoughtfully. It was the first proposal in years that surprised and intrigued him. The work would take him to London. He thought of Esme—he had never forgotten her. Crawford Monroe was a Scot brought up in the affluent suburbs of Glasgow. He was at best a skilled and innovative engineer, at worst a reformed hellraiser, with expulsion from private school, his starter for ten. He never considered it a setback.
Failure was an adjective the Monroe family never considered. Crawford was their second son, some ten years between he and his older brother. Everything had been timed to perfection—his mother Susan delivering her firstborn son just after she had achieved her promotion to consultant, and shortly before her 36th birthday. She barely took two weeks off before she was back in the saddle and Murray was in full-time nursery. Childcare and private education was costly, so they budgeted for one child going through this initial process before they embarked on the next. Money was needed to finance the aggressive expansion of his father’s law firm. Although confident and successful in business, Peter was often intimidated by his wife. He would have preferred a second child quickly but Susan wouldn’t hear of it.
They planned a five year age gap so Murray would be starting school when the next baby arrived. His mother was outraged when she didn’t fall pregnant on schedule. After three years of trying, she accepted she would only have one child. She moved on without regret and focused on her career, but Peter was annoyed.
When Susan discovered to her horror she was pregnant at the ripe old age of 46, she wanted to terminate. She was too old and the health risks for her and the baby were in the high-risk category. But for once Peter stood up to her, and astounded by this turn of events, she gave in. Peter longed for a daughter although he never shared these thoughts with his wife. Susan also decided a girl would complete the perfect gentleman’s family. When Crawford was born safe and healthy, he was to be a disappointment to both of them. Peter thought both his sons were like their mother—focused, driven, competitive—and he struggled to like them. Crawford, always headstrong, did things his own way, and his older parents didn’t always have the strength to fight him. They were shocked when their youngest child was expelled from school; their world was suddenly turned upside down. Murray, in contrast, had been an easy child.
Crawford took this turn of events in his stride, rising to the challenge, a natural troubleshooter even then. He wanted to learn and get his hands dirty. An apprenticeship in engineering seemed the obvious choice. He went on to obtain his degree. There was nothing conventional about Crawford Monroe; he loved to break the rules. He was exactly what the Braille Club needed, except he didn’t know it yet.
The engineering firm he applied to recognised his cultured t
ones as a bonus; it was the fire in his eyes that secured an apprenticeship. He never looked back. His friends shortened his name to Ford, it suited him, but in business he was always Crawford. He used his name as a shield. He liked to hide behind it, using it to conceal the real person underneath.
His first love had broken his heart. He had fallen for Esme MacDonald without warning. The only female apprentice, she was used to men staring at her. She had pretty eyes the colour of dark toffee, her rich brunette hair a mixture of autumnal hues. She wore her hair down her back in a long pleat. Small and thin, she was surprisingly tough and hard working. She had a hunger to learn. When he had boldly asked her out, she had laughed and said, “No chance,” but had flushed, her pale skin tinting. They soon became friends and Ford settled for this, whilst yearning for more.
Esme and Ford’s friendship flourished. Although flattered, she told him she must focus on her job. She worked longer and harder than anyone, except Ford, which irritated him. Their competitive natures clashed, and they often brought out the worst in each other. No matter what they did, it ended up a contest. As soon as they hit eighteen, Esme matched him drink for drink in the pub after work. Often the first to volunteer for more challenging work, she put him and the rest of the guys to shame. She won their friendship and their respect; her humour just as caustic as the rest of them. Her jokes were often the dirtiest, making the younger lads blush. Most of them were afraid and a little in love with her, but she didn’t seem to notice.