We ended up unpeeling her, the way you disentangle a frightened cat that’s got its claws firmly hooked up in your sweater. Eventually, she was forced to let go of me and grabbed for her mother’s hair instead, still grizzling.
For a moment Simone and I stood and stared at each other over the top of Ella’s head.
“Do you think you could find us a hotel for tonight?” Simone asked in a small, shocked voice.
I nodded, pulling out my phone. Sean had a list at the office of places all over the country that had good security and who were prepared to work with us to protect a principal.
Before I could punch in the number she added, ‘And tomorrow we’ll go-get away, like you suggested.” The horde outside continued to roar and clamor like a lynch mob, inflamed by their minor success. Simone rocked Ella and listened to them and her face grew stony “Would America be far enough, do you think?”
She wants to go to the States,” I said. “We know that-,” Sean began. “Not next week, or next month, but now,” I cut in. “Today, if Madeleine can get her on a flight. What were her exact words? Oh yes. ‘Everybody’s telling me how rich I am-I’ll buy a goddamn private jet if I have to.’ I think that was the gist of it.”
“What happened?” he said, clipped.
I went through the events of the last hour, adding, “Now she’s getting over being scared, she’s pretty angry instead.”
“Hardly surprising,” he said, and then was silent for a moment at the other end of the line. “And how do you feel about it?”
I shrugged. A useless gesture when he wasn’t there to see it.
I was in the living room, with the curtains firmly drawn. Simone’s house didn’t have double glazing and I kept my voice low, only too aware of the movement and raucous chatter going on outside the window. Si-mone was upstairs, trying to settle a still-tearful Ella in her bedroom. I reckoned she was likely to be there for some time.
“I think getting Simone — and Ella-out from under the media spotlight would be the best thing for them right now,” I said carefully. “I’m just not exactly thrilled about the prospect of going along for the ride.”
“The circumstances are very different from Florida, Charlie,” he said quietly
I shut my eyes, gripping the phone more tightly and feeling like a coward. “Yes, I know.”
He sighed. “OK, I’ll call you as soon as we’ve got Simone’s travel arrangements sorted out,” he said. “We’ll contact the private investigators as well, make sure they’re briefed. I’ll get Madeleine onto it.”
Madeleine ran Sean’s office for him and handled the electronic security side of the firm as well as being an organizational genius and general paragon of virtue.
At one point I’d thought she and Sean were more than work colleagues, and that was probably yet another reason she and I had never quite got along as well as we might have done. Somehow it didn’t help that, in the last few months, Sean had started talking about making her a partner. With more and more clients coming to Sean to secure their data as much as their personnel, I couldn’t argue with his logic, but on some lower level it still rankled.
“Look,” he went on now, sounding weary. “If you’re really not ready for this, Charlie, tell me and I’ll assign someone else.” He paused a moment, as though giving me one last chance to change my mind.
“Right now, I don’t know,” I said, aware of a prickle of nervous tension down my spine at my own vacillation. “I suppose I thought I’d have longer to get my head round the idea.”
“I’ll call you back in an hour,” Sean said, without inflection. “You’ve got until then to make your mind up.”
“OK,” I said, chastened. “Would you tell Madeleine if we’re not on a flight out of here today then we’re going to need a hotel for tonight as well?” I glanced at the curtained window “Simone wants to get out of the house as soon as possible.”
“Mm, I can’t say I blame her,” Sean agreed. “For the moment, though, just sit tight and let’s hope the press get fed up with hanging around in the cold. We’ll have her out of the country within a couple of days at the outside, in any case.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I know I’m being a pain about this, but-”
“Don’t worry about it,” he cut in. “If you’re not ready, you’re not ready. Just make a decision and let me know when I call back.”
His tone was nothing but reasonable and I ended the call aware of a deep stab of disappointment that he seemed to have given in to my weakness quite so easily
It was another half an hour before Simone reappeared downstairs. I was in the kitchen by that time, mopping up the spilt water and wrapping the bits of broken glass in newspaper so I could put them into the dustbin later. Strictly speaking, it wasn’t my job, but it needed doing and I wasn’t about to stand on ceremony. The blinds were still drawn and I had the lights on, making it hard to tell that it was still morning.
“How’s Ella?” I asked, getting to my feet.
Simone hovered in the doorway, looking tired and strained. “OK, I guess,” she said. She paused, more of a hesitation. “She wants to see you.”
“Ella?” I said, surprised.
Simone nodded and stepped back into the hallway, taking it for granted that I’d follow
I dumped the wrapped-up package of glass onto the kitchen worktop and went after her, aware of a prickle of nerves. I had almost no experience with children of Ella’s age. I had no real experience with children of any age, for that matter. She’d been through traumas over the past two days that no four-year-old should have to endure and I had no idea how to counsel or comfort her, if that was what was required. Hell, I couldn’t even do that for myself.
I opened my mouth to ask Simone why Ella was demanding an audience, but she was already halfway up the stairs and I had to hurry to catch up. By the time I reached the landing she was waiting for me by one of the bedroom doorways, beckoning me on.
My immediate impression of Ella’s bedroom was that it was overwhelmingly pink. Pink carpet, pink curtains, pink quilt cover with pink unicorns on it. Even as a small child I remember disliking the color and my mother would have died rather than decorate so heavy-handedly. She wouldn’t even buy anything other than plain-colored lavatory paper.
Ella was sitting up in bed with the covers banked protectively round her. She was cuddling the battered Eeyore tightly against her chest and absently chewing on one of his ears. From the state of the animal, I gathered this was something of a regular habit. Those violet eyes regarded me, wide and unwavering.
Simone went over to her and perched on the edge of the single bed. Ella tugged on her mother’s sleeve until their heads were together, then whispered something into Simone’s ear, hiding her lips behind her cupped hand. And all the time, her eyes never left me.
I tried to keep my expression bland, but I never did like being talked about behind my back. Even by a four-year-old.
Now Simone was looking at me, too, her cheeks flared pink to match the bedroom decor.
“Urn, she wants to know what happened to your neck,” Simone said.
“My neck?” I repeated, dumbly Automatically, my hand went up to my shirt collar, checking it was in place. It was. For a moment I couldn’t work out when Ella might have caught a glimpse of my scar, but then I realized she must have done so when her mother was wrestling her away from me in the hallway
Simone’s gaze met mine and I saw shock in her eyes. I think for the first time it really came home to her what it meant to be a bodyguard. And what it might mean to need one.