Buying the Virgin novel Chapter 92

CHARLOTTE

“Er… How Richard and Beth met. Er…. Beth…”

Richard holds up his hands. “Spare my blushes. Wait until I’m not around before you tell him. Elizabeth and I need to be going anyway. Do meet up with her and her friends in the City next week, Charlotte. Get yourself a change of air.”

We see him out to his car, where Ross is sitting, eyes closed in the driver’s seat, listening to music. Michael and Beth join us after a minute or two, Beth looking as fresh and beautiful as a newly picked daisy. As they drive away, we wave them off.

My Master swivels to me, eyes crinkling. “Spill the beans, Charlotte.” Michael frowns in puzzlement.

“Um.… Beth was working as a maid in the hotel, cleaning the rooms. I think it was the one where you had the apartment. It was hot one day, and she used the shower in the Penthouse, where Richard was staying. He’d gone out, but he came back early and caught her in his shower, um, naked…. then…. er…. he tied her to the shower and um…”

My Master creases up with laughter. “I get it. No wonder he was so relaxed about you and me.”

“There’s a bit more to it than that.”

“Really?”

“Er…. He offered her a contract, and she accepted. She was um… at his beck and call, if you know what I mean, and in return, he funded her through college and trained her up.”

My Master sobers up. “You’re kidding? So, when he knew that I’d bought you….”

“Yes, he was comfortable with it once he knew that I went into it willingly. Because he did essentially the same thing with Beth.”

Michael is shaking his head, arms folded, a broad grin on his face. “I definitely think you should cultivate your friendship with Beth.”

*****

“Charlotte, can we talk about something?” My Master’s face is serious. Michael is here too, and I can see by his unhappy expression, that he knows what my Master wants to discuss.

“Is something wrong, Master?” My heart sinks. “Have I done something to upset you?”

“Oh, no. No.” he says hastily. “No, nothing like that. But…. we wanted you to have a couple of days here, relaxing before we mentioned this to you.” He swipes a hand through his hair. “Um, why don’t you sit down.”

He waves me to where Michael is patting the seat of the chair next to him. As I sit, he takes my hand, holding it tightly.

Beginning to feel really anxious, “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“It’s about that home you were in as a child, Blessingmoors ….”

My throat tightens, and I stare at the ground.

My Master hesitates, but then, “The Police still have the inquiry open from the original events there. They are trying to collect evidence on some of the original gang-members that ran the operation, but who they never succeeded in convicting at the time.”

Michael, holding my hand, is all but squeezing the blood out of my fingers.

Breathe……

“Okay, so….?”

“They would like to interview you; ask you some questions about events there, have you look over old photographs to see if you can identify any of the people involved…. Could you do that?”

Collecting my scattered thoughts, “Why are you asking me this? Instead of the Police?”

“Haswell is friendly with the Police Commissioner, who knows that he has a personal interest in you. And of course, he asked me. Everyone thought it would be better coming to you this way, rather than your getting a phone call out of the blue from some stranger. I said…. Michael and I said…. we would ask you, on condition that it waited until after your exams, and once you were back here so you have some moral support.”

Breathe……

“It’s Richard who is asking me to do this?”

“Yes.”

Breathe……

“What happens if I identify someone? Someone they want?”

“If it comes to it, and they have enough evidence, they’ll ask you to stand as witness in court.”

“What do you think, Charlotte?” asks Michael softly. “Could you do it….?” His beautiful blue eyes are soft with concern. “……Stop the same thing happening to someone else that happened to you?”

Yes, that’s the clincher, isn’t it….

“Yes, I’ll do it,” I say.

My Master voice is startled. “You’re sure? I thought you might want to think about it for a while?”

“No. Michael’s right. It needs to be done. If I can help, I’m in. Now…. Um…. ‘S’cuse me.” And I dash out, to throw up, outside, into the bushes.

*****

I enter the conference room in the Haswell Building. It has been chosen for my interview to provide me with familiar surroundings, rather than asking me to attend a police station. and yes, I do feel more comfortable, knowing that my friends are only on the other side of the door. My Master, Michael, Beth and Richard, are all gathered in the next room.