Chapter Six
Amelie
As promised, the incubator sends a car for me on Sunday.
I had hoped she would have forgotten, but no, it seems my presence at ‘family’ dinner is still mandatory.
I scowl, as I get into the ostentatious black limo that she’s sent, and then I remember that I’ll have the use of my phone whilst I’m there.
Excitement fizzles through me and I spend the short car ride debating who to call first: Aadi, Smalls, or my dad.
And then there’s Sawyer. I wonder if he’s texted me since Friday.
I hope he has. I want to be able to reply to him.
Even if he’s just sent me his number, at least I’ll have it and be able to initiate a conversation.
I’m going to have to find a way to swipe the phone from the house. There’s no way I’m leaving it there.
“Excuse me?” I tap gently on the privacy glass that separates me from the driver. The partition slides down.
“Yes, Miss Knox?” the driver asks politely.
“That’s not my name!” I’m so taken aback that I can’t even remember what I wanted to say.
“My apologies, Miss.”
“Rossi. I’m Amelie Rossi.”
“I beg your pardon, Miss Rossi, your...erm...mother told me to call you that.”
“No. It’s definitely Rossi,” I insist firmly.
“I’m sorry. What can I do for you?”
“Can we stop at the shops on the way?”
“What kind of shop?”
“Is there a supermarket en route?”
“There’s not, Miss. But we have time to take a short detour.”
“Thank you.” I sit back in my seat, happy that I’ve found a solution to the phone-issue at least. I finger the edges of the credit card bribe that Headmaster Knox gave me.
I’ve taken to carrying it everywhere with me.
It doesn’t hurt to be prepared and I don’t have any cash in this godforsaken country.
The driver pulls up outside a large place called Tesco and I race inside.
I have no idea what kind of store it is, but it looks large enough to have an electronics department.
On my way in, I spot a cash point and decide to use that.
I figure taking cash off the card is less traceable than paying by card.
I know iPhones aren’t cheap and I don’t want a big purchase like that to show on my statement.
Luckily, it doesn’t take me long to find where they keep the electronics.
I grab the empty box for the latest iPhone off the shelf and head to the checkout, stopping to grab some other essentials that I need on the way.
I pay with cash and head over to customer services to exchange the dud box for the real one.
“Here you go, miss.” They hand me the boxed phone and I race off to the toilets to unpack it. I slip the phone inside my blazer pocket and toss everything else into my over-sized bag.
I’m back in the car within ten minutes. Probably less. Done, the driver continues to take me to the house where the incubator has shacked up with stepdaddy and plays happy families with all her perfect stepsons.
I grind my teeth, once again angry that she can be such a perfect fucking parent to kids that aren’t hers, but that she abandoned me and my brother without a care in the world.
Yeah, looks like I’m going to be breaking my word to the headmaster: I’m in no mood to play nice.
The car pulls up in front of a house which is even more ridiculously ostentatious than the limo.
I can’t help but wonder how a headmaster makes the sort of cash that would be needed to buy and live in a place like this.
The house would suggest he’s less philanthropic than Sawyer led me to believe on Friday.
Maybe he uses the entrance fee for his mortgage, rather than building improvements around the school.
Seeing the house makes my mother’s interest in a school headmaster slightly more understandable. I’m not stupid enough to think she’s in love with Monty, no matter how decent he might seem to be. No, with her there’s always an ulterior motive.
I don’t want to get out of the car.
“What’s your name?” I ask the driver to stall for time.
“Larry, Miss Rossi.” I immediately like him for listening to me, even though he’s paid to follow my mother’s orders.
“Will you be my regular driver?”
“That is my employer’s intent, Miss Rossi.”
“I think if we’re going to be spending so much time together, you can just call me Amelie.”
“We’ll see, Miss Rossi. It’s early days yet and I do like to get to know a person before I drop the formalities.”
“I like you, Larry.”
“Thank you, Miss Rossi. But you really do have to get out of the car now.”
I thank Larry because he went out of his way for me, and then approach the house.
There’s no bell, so I knock. When no one answers, I try the door.
It’s open, so I let myself into the hallway.
There’s no one around but straight away I hear raised voices coming from the door to my left. I creep over to eavesdrop.
"Why didn't you fucking tell us your mistress had a daughter?" It sounds like one of the twins whisper-yelling at his dad.
"Watch your tone, boy, I don't have to tell you shit.” It’s the angriest I’ve ever heard stepdaddy dearest sound. I didn’t think he was capable of losing his temper.
"She doesn't belong here and you know it. We don’t even have to look at her to know she won’t be a good fit!
She won't last the year, let alone the next three." That's definitely the other twin’s voice. I just don’t know which one is which. They didn’t exactly introduce themselves when they kidnapped and threatened me.
"The decision has been made.” Principal Knox’s voice is tight and firm. Whatever they’re on about, he’s not budging on it.
"Wait until I tell mum about this,” Kalen joins in.
I feel a small stab of disappointment that he’d join the twins.
But then I figure, they’ve not actually met me yet - as their stepsister anyway - and so he doesn’t know who he’s protesting against. I weirdly kind of hope that he’ll change his mind when he realises that I’m the girl he’s been relentlessly flirting with for the last few days.
"Your mother no longer has any say in the matter.” It’s the last thing I hear before the door flies open and I’m standing face to face with Principal Knox.
“Amelie.” He blinks. He sounds a little sheepish, like he’s worried that I may have just heard his conversation, and he’s fearful of my reaction. As if I’d make a scene without my mother around to embarrass whilst I’m doing it. “I didn’t know you were here.”
“I knocked. No one answered, so I let myself in,” I explain. I sound completely neutral; neither defiant, nor apologetic. Good. I want to keep him guessing about what I’m thinking, how I’m feeling.
“Of course, of course, come in! Make yourself at home. We should see about getting you a key. You can come by more than once a week if you like. The others do.”
“Yeah, I’m not sure I’m welcome on a Sunday, let alone the other days of the week,” I point out, letting him know that I heard exactly what was said about me.
“Don’t worry about that,” he tells me firmly. Then he points to the door behind me. It’s opposite the one he came out of. “Lounge is through there.”
“Thanks,” I mumble and then hastily add, “Sir.”
“Please, outside of school call me Monty.”
I cringe a little, but it’s better than calling him Headmaster or Principal Knox. I think. At least he didn’t say to call him daddy. Ick.
I wander into the sitting room and have a good nosey around.
The room’s empty, so why not? The house is nicer than any I’ve ever stepped foot in before.
I’m sure it’s not dead posh, by some standards, but I’m pretty awe-struck.
I think our whole house back home could have fit inside this room alone.
I hate that. How is it fair that some people work and work and have nothing?
Whilst others like my incubator sell their pussy for a more luxurious lifestyle? My fingers itch to break shit.
I walk about the room taking in the opulent and sumptuous furnishings.
Everything is cream, soft, velvety. I’m almost scared to touch shit in case I leave marks behind, but then I think fuck it, and try to dirty the place up a bit.
I leave handprints on the widescreen tv.
It’s stupidly big. More than anyone could ever need.
Pointless. There are family photos dotted everywhere.
The boys. Monty and the boys. Monty and the incubator.
Incubator on her own. There’s only one photo, a ginormous thing that hangs over the fireplace, that depicts the ‘whole’ family together.
Monty and his mistress beam down on me, whilst Sawyer smiles tightly.
It’s not a genuine smile - not like I experienced on Friday - it doesn’t reach his eyes.
Kalen looks miserable and the twins...well, they look about ready to commit murder. Interesting.
Maybe the perfect little Knox family isn’t as perfect as the incubator has been making out.
I sorely hope so. I smell dirt; and I love to dig.
I won’t stop until I find something I can use to tear this family apart, like the incubator did to me.
If it takes me a while to get expelled and sent home, good; it just gives me longer to wreck her life.
Interspersed on all the hard surfaces between the photos, is a myriad of expensive looking cut crystal. Goblets, vases, bowls. I’m just about to reach out and ‘knock’ one over accidentally-on-purpose when the door opens and the incubator’s voice sharply rings out.
“Amelie? What are you doing?”
“Nothing,” I say sulkily, refusing to look at her.
“Well, dinner’s ready, so come on through to the dining room.” She turns on her heels and leaves, not even waiting for me. Gee, thanks, mother, throw me to the wolves much?