Something inside her, some protective instinct, hadkicked in.
Because when Henry had come here and berated her, she’d discovered it was possible to walk away from abuse. She didn’t need to stand and take it.
But this time there was no one to come to her defence, to speak French and makeher laugh.
Millie reached the stairs at the end of the west wing and went up and up and up until there were no more stairs.
She stumbled through the heavy iron door onto the roof and stood there for a minute, catching her breath.
Then the trembling got too much; her teeth started chattering.
It’s just shock.Like that time on the street in London.She was very cold, but there was no stranger to place a warm coat over her andhold her.
Her legs wouldn’t work anymore, and she fell to her knees, her arms folded over her stomach.
She kept her mind on little things, counting the stone tiles on the floor of the roof.One, two, three, four,five, six…
Why?Why? Why?
Twenty-nine. Thirty. Thirty-one. Thirty-two.
Was he comingafter her?
Fifty-five.Fifty-six.
Did that really happen?
Did she imagine it?
One hundred and forty-nine. There were no more stones. Her eyes reached the edge, and she looked through the stone balustrade to the green lawns far below. George was walking across the grass, away from the house. Evans had the cart on the gravel drive; George jumped on and the cart made a wide circle and headed out of the gardens. The afternoon sun glinted on his hair. They followed the winding paths between the fields, getting farther and farther; George getting smaller andsmaller.
Millie watched until he disappearedfrom view.
Then she let herself cry. Tears dripped from her face and soaked into the stones onthe roof.
A part of her brain heard voices in the gardens, and farther afield, calling her name. It all felt so far away, anotheruniverse.
It was nearly dark when Ann finally found her and helped her walk downstairs.
OceanofPDF.com
Autumn
OceanofPDF.com
NINETEEN
Two weeks later. London
It still did not make sense. It just didn’t compute, and whichever way George looked at it, he couldn’t understand it.
He should stop thinking.After all, it was his best thinking that had got him intothis mess.
“There’s another call,” his senior PA told him as soon as he entered the large outer office. His morning meeting with the Scottish minister had gone on too long, but George welcomed the distraction. It was when he had nothing to do that ugly thoughts crowded into his head. Vicky wasn’thelping.
“It’sfrom RobMatthews.”
Which part of “no personal calls” don’t you understand?
