Of course, there was still The Big Terrible Thing, but I’d been promised that would never be linked to me.
I was an expert at dealing with the police now. I simply ignored them until they went away. I used to come up with excuses, but I couldn’t be bothered with that anymore. The police knew what had happened. What was the point of lying? But if they wanted to nail the Masons, they were going to have to do it without my testimony about assaults on me. Maybe that made me a coward, but I tended to think of it simply as me trying to survive. I wouldn’t be much help to Zach if I was at the bottom of the Thames. And anyway, I’d done my part with The Big Terrible Thing. Anything else was asking too much.
Yes, Grant had been pissed off when he rang me last night. He didn’t buy my “fell down the stairs” excuse, and he reminded me of my options. But I wasn’t leaving London, not while Zach still needed me.
“Clara,” Lily’s soft voice penetrated through my dark thoughts. “Can you eat something, hun? Just a few bites. I know it’s sore with your mouth, but you’ve got to eat something, okay?”
I nodded and lifted my sandwich, wincing when I chewed around my swollen lip. Unfortunately, I’d lost a fair amount of weight. Apart from the anxiety, which was my constant companion and always put me off eating, there was the split in my lip, which kept reopening. That particular cut hadn’t actually required stitches as it was on the inside of my mouth where apparently the mucosa would heal itself. Well, I wished it would bloody well hurry up and get on with it.
As the day wore on, I felt myself relax ever so slightly. I loved my job; I loved the kids, and I loved working out what made them tick and how I could get them excited about learning. Ozzie was sticking to me like glue. He was shocked when he first saw me that morning.
“Wowsers, Miss Clara,” he’d breathed. “Those stairs must have been super high.”
His little face was full of worry as he stared up at me. The questions continued throughout the day. He wanted to know which bone was broken in my wrist, how long until it healed, if it still hurt, if I could see out of my eye, if my eye just “smushed”. I answered all of them and eventually he settled down so that we could get some work done.
By the end of the day, though, I was exhausted and stiff. My arm had started to ache, and I had a headache building. As the kids began to leave, I sat down heavily in Lily’s chair and blew out a long breath. Maybe Lily was right. Maybe it was too soon to come back.
“What inthe fuckhappened to you?” I flinchedas an unexpected, low, deep voice filled the classroom, the sudden movement jerking my arm and worsening the pain.
“L-L-Lord Sterling,” I stammered, straightening in the chair and wincing again at the strain on my battered body. “What are you doing here?”
He strode into the room like he owned the place, which was how I imagined Lord Sterling entered every room. When he was in front of the desk, just a few feet from me, I had to tilt my head back to look up at him, which intensified my headache. I was suddenly tired. So, so tired. I did a long blink, wishing I could simply teleport to Lily’s sofa to watchBridgertonwith a jar of Branston Pickle, which was the plan I’d been promised earlier.
I was staying with Lily for the moment. Not only was I too scared to go back to my flat, but with my wrist I wasn’t really able to sort out food or do other basic chores. It wasn’t ideal as Lily only had one tiny bedroom, but she wouldn’t hear of me staying on my own until I had full use of my arm again.
“I came to seeyou,” Lord Sterling said, his eyes sweeping from the bruised and swollen side of my face to my wrist. “I wanted to talk to you about Ozzie.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “ButnowI want to talk to you about whatthe fuckhappened to you?”
I did another long blink and let out a breath. With that breath, I seemed to expel all the fucks I had left to give. I was done. I was too tired to feel fear anymore and, anyway, Lord Sterling might be massive and intimidating, but he wasn’t going to hurt me, at least not physically.
“I fell down some stairs,” I said by rote. I’d repeated the same story a few times now.
“You fell down some stairs? Jesus Christ, your arm is broken.”
I let out a small, humourless laugh. “Oh really? I hadn’t noticed.”
“Clara, I––”
“Listen, Lord Sterling,” I interrupted him as I closed my eyes to shut out his too-handsome, too-intense presence. “I’m tired, I’m in pain, and I’m afraid I simply can’t cope with a man like you at the moment.”
There was a long silence. I really, really hoped he’d give up and go home, but the man was stubborn. When I cracked an eyelid open, I was disappointed to see him still standing there with his arms crossed over his chest and a grumpy expression. I’m quite sure the great Lord Sterling did not appreciate being ignored.
“Clara,” he said slowly and with waning patience, “I find it hard to believe that the injuries you’ve sustained are merely the result of falling down some stairs. I’m not quite sure what on earth is going on here, but Idoknow my son missed you. An uncomfortable amount. I would very much like to have your assurance that you will not be absent from your post in the future.”
I pressed my lips together to prevent the nervous laugh I could feel bubbling up.
He narrowed his eyes at me.
“I’m so sorry that my injuries have inconvenienced you, Lord Sterling,” I said, still unable to conjure up the same deference and nervousness he usually inspired in me. Honestly, it was like the tiredness had crept into my very bones. I was starting to realise that I should have followed the hospital’s advice and taken longer off work. But the truth was, I simply didn’t want to be alone at Lily’s whilst she was at work. I felt safer in the school.
The one time I went back to my flat to fetch my things, I’d spotted Skinny Pete loitering around the entrance to thetube. I knew what Dad was trying to do. He was making it clear that I needed to keep my mouth shut. In all likelihood, Skinny Pete and whoever else he’d sent to watch me would leave me alone, but I was too traumatised to completely convince myself of that. “I will, of course, endeavour to remain injury-free for the rest of my tenure at Molton Prep.”
There was another long silence. When I glanced up at Lord Sterling he was frowning at me with his head tilted to the side.
“I’m a determined man, Clara,” he said. “And right now I’m determined that my son receives the best possible help.” His voice dropped lower then with a firm edge to his tone as he went on. “Maybe someone needs to check what the safety precautions are like in your building?Maybesomeone needs to look into the circumstances of your injuries? And maybe I’m in a perfect position to do that.”
At this point, I’d had enough. Someone looking into my building to see if it was safe, someone poking around in my life, trying to see beyond what I presented to the world – that was completely unacceptable to me and extremely dangerous. I took a deep breath in, forgetting that some of my ribs were bruised, and then winced on the exhale.
“Lord Sterling,” I said, my quiet voice shaky but firm as I slowly pushed myself up to standing. I somehow needed to set this man straight. “My life is none of your business. I teach your son, and that is it. I’ve given you my report. There was adequate teaching assistance for your son while I was away. I-I-I don’t feel that this requires any further explanation.”
