Chapter 12
I’m not scared for me
Clara
“You can’t go back there,” Lily said as we cleared up the glue and glitter from today’s effort at set design. I’m not sure any other production of Sweeney Todd had ever involved quite so much glitter, but Molton Prep’s version was certainly going to have its own unique vibe.
“Lily, I can’t stay with you any longer. It’s been well over a month now. House guests are like fish – they stink after three days. I must positively reek now.” I chuckled, but then Lily’s hand closed over mine, and when I looked up at her face, I could see she wasn’t finding anything funny.
“You’re welcome to stay as long as you need, Clara,” she said, her expression deadly serious.
I sighed. “I know, hun, and I’m seriously grateful, but honestly, I’m pretty sure the flat is okay now.”
“Pretty sure isn’t good enough,” Lily said, giving my hand a squeeze.
She swallowed before her next words and I watched in horror as her eyes filled with tears.
“I’m scared.” She was whispering now and I felt a huge surge of guilt.
I was putting Lily in an impossible situation. Of course she was scared.
“That’s exactly why I should move out, Lils,” I said softly. “I don’t want you scared in your own home. I should never have come to stay with you in the first place, but I—”
“I’m not scared for me,” she snapped. “I’m scared for you. I’m scared of what’s going to happen next time.” Her voice lowered as she looked left and right, checking the coast was clear before speaking again. “Isn’t there any way we could report what––”
“No,” I said sharply, pulling my hand out of hers.
“No, Lily. I’ve told you that is not a possibility.
Not in the world I grew up in. You… you don’t understand.
You could never understand.” I pushed my glasses up into my hair to rub my eyes.
Bloody hell, I was tired. Sleeping on Lily’s sofa was taking its toll, but the constant fear was the real problem.
“Listen, I’m moving back tomorrow. I’ve already packed up my stuff. So I can—”
“It’s not fucking safe!” she said, her voice rising in anger now and her face reddening.
“What’s not fucking safe?” We both jumped in surprise at the low, deep voice from the doorway of the classroom.
I dropped an entire open container of glitter which splattered all around my feet.
Lord Sterling’s large frame filled the doorway to the classroom.
As usual, he looked absolutely incredible.
When neither of us spoke, he lifted an eyebrow.
“Miss Summerfield?” he said in a clipped tone. “I’ll ask again. What is not safe?”
“Come along, Lord Sterling,” Mrs Clayton said as she bustled into the classroom. “Let’s get a move on, shall we? I know the governors are all waiting to—”
“Clara?” he said, ignoring Mrs Clayton as he fixed his intense gaze on me. “Why aren’t you safe?”
“Lily’s being silly,” I said in a shaky voice. “Honestly, it’s nothing.”
“Miss Summerfield clearly does not think it’s nothing. She’s on the verge of tears and she was shouting so loudly I could hear her from the corridor. I’ll not have my employees unsafe, Clara. I demand to know what’s going on immediately.”
“Clara’s flat’s not safe,” Lily blurted out and my eyes went wide. What was she doing? “She can’t stay there.”
“That’s all been sorted now, Lily,” I said through gritted teeth. “You’re being overdramatic.”
“I am not being overdramatic,” she snapped.
Uh oh. Lily was angry, and a pissed-off Lily was not an easy thing to manage.
“There’ve been problems there for ages. And nobody is taking it seriously.
The area’s well dodgy and the outer door’s busted, so there’s no security.
Anyone could walk in.” What Lily was saying was all true, but that wasn’t why I was unsafe there, and she knew it.
“Lily, shut up,” I muttered as Lord Sterling narrowed his eyes at us both.
“Well, I happen to agree with Lily,” said Mrs Clayton and my mouth dropped open in shock.
“I, for one, am tired of your safety being in question, Clara. You cannot continue living in Lily’s flat, but I absolutely forbid you from returning to your previous accommodation given the known risks there.
” She gave me a significant look. “You can stay with me. Mr Clayton and I can make space in the office for you to—”
“I’m sorry, Mrs Clayton, but that is completely out of the question.” I would not put Mrs C and her elderly husband on my family’s radar. No way. “I’m returning home tonight and that is that.”
I felt proud of myself. No stammering, and I was very firm. I even had my hands on my hips. The effect may have been slightly ruined by the glitter over my shoes and lower legs, but still… I told them.
“That’s fine, Clara,” Lord Sterling put in smoothly. See, even he could tell that I was not to be trifled with. “I’ll be ready to take you back to your accommodation in approximately fifteen minutes.”
Er… what? Take me where? What the fuck was going on? Ozzie was with his mother currently (something that seemed to be relatively rare) so there was no reason for me to even see Lord Sterling today.
“Miss Summerfield, if you could ensure Clara remains in this classroom for the time it takes me to meet with the governors, that would be appreciated.” He turned to me. “Wait here for me, Clara. I won’t be happy if I have to waste my time finding you.”
“Y-y-you c-c-can’t—” Great, I was back to stammering. So much for standing up for myself.
“I think you’ll find I can and I will,” he told me. “If the property is safe, then that’s fine. I’ll feel better making that assessment for myself and in person.”
My mouth opened to speak again, but before I could get any words out past my tight throat, he’d turned on his heel and was striding down the corridor.
“He can’t take me to the flat,” I whispered in horror.
The very thought of Lord Sterling seeing where I lived was inconceivable.
His house was on another level. My tiny studio would fit in his larder.
Also, if he saw where my flat was, my obvious lie about how I was injured would be very exposed.
My face felt hot, and when my hands went to my cheeks they were on fire.
“I think this is good, Clara,” Mrs C said gently, coming forward so she was in front of me, then patting me on my arm.
“Lord Sterling taking you to your flat and checking it is definitely a good thing. He’ll make sure everything’s okay.
” It was clear that Mrs C had absolute and complete confidence in Lord Sterling. “He’ll make sure you’re safe.”
It was the hoarseness of her voice as she said those last words that got me.
I knew Mrs C had been worried about me, just like Lily, and I knew it was taking a toll on her.
She trusted Lord Sterling. If I refused to let him take me home, she’d be more worried and would probably make me stay at hers, putting her in danger.
I swallowed past the lump in my throat. As always, my choices were limited.
And, if I was honest with myself, there was a small, dark, fearful part of me that had abandoned pride a long time ago.
That part of me liked the idea of big, commanding Lord Sterling coming with me to my flat for the first time since I was hurt. That part of me felt safe with him.
“Is that it?” he asked as I slung my backpack over my shoulder.
“What?”
“Is that all your stuff?”
I shrugged. “Yeah.”
“How long were you staying with Lily?”
I bit my lip. “Just a little over six weeks.”
His eyebrows went up.
“This bag is actually deceptively large.”
“My sister has handbags bigger than that bag,” he told me. “She took no fewer than five suitcases the last time she went away for a weekend. I doubt her make-up would fit into your backpack.”
I grinned. “Well, I don’t wear any make-up, so that frees up a fair bit of space.”
He scanned my face. “No, you don’t, do you?”
Feeling awkward, I looked away from his intense gaze and fixated on his neck.
He’d loosened his tie, and some of his throat was showing; it was one of the most subtly sexy things I’d ever seen in my life.
I couldn’t decide whether he was being critical or not, but I was inclined to believe he wouldn’t approve of make-up-less women.
His ex-wife certainly didn’t swan around with no makeup on.
The woman was almost too glamorous to be real.
I swallowed. Poor man having to lug a mousy, awkward woman across London.
He probably had better things to be doing.
Hopefully, he’d be satisfied with a very brief look at the flat and be on his way without any further inconvenience.
I knew why he was doing this. Lord Sterling could not risk me taking any more time off, not with how important I was now to his son.
Credit where credit’s due – the man would do anything for his son.
I was quite sure that was why he’d been making an effort over the last two weeks to come home earlier.
I’d given up trying to leave each time he arrived before seven.
He seemed very insistent that he get value for money and wouldn’t even consider me leaving a minute before I was due.
I guess he was paying for my time, and rich people tended to know their way around a pound.