CHAPTER SIXTEEN
A resigned acceptance settled between them over the course of the day.
Draco wound up the database, just in case things ended badly at Compton Senior’s homestead that evening.
He was proud of the work he’d done during his faux placement. He’d added some nifty features to the new database, shortcuts and extra pages for new categories of information, stuff that hadn’t been done before. Lara imported all the current information, double checking it all thoroughly before agreeing it was done.
Back at the apartment they quietly prepared, showering and changing their clothes. Lara booked a taxi. During the journey they held hands.
“Still worrying about your grandmother?” she asked.
Draco was running over his prepared story, in case he had to use it that evening. She wanted to talk though. “Yes, but I’m assured things are going well.”
“I can’t imagine you with a cuddly grandmother.”
“She’s a wonderful woman, traditional. She looked after us more than our Mum did.”
“Maybe that explains why I keep seeing old fashioned attitudes in you.”
It puzzled him, but he supposed it might be true.
“I’ve got a great aunt too, her sister, she can be scary. Together they are formidable”
“The one she’s moving in with?”
“Yes, and Rowan too. She’s a single mum.”
“You find it hard talking about them.”
“I guess so, only because I left it all behind, and then my Mum and step dad left too, so I feel bad about the ones left behind.”
“Maybe you can use part of your earnings to go visit?”
“Maybe.”
“Something I wanted to ask…why is it you think my brothers might be implicated in the fraud?”
“Timing. They were given inside information, a head start on a proper fraud investigator, and they still haven’t rolled anything out as yet, have they? I can only assume they’re complicit in some way—one or both of them. Either that or they couldn’t care less about it. Having met Charles I’m beginning to think it’s the latter. He’s too busy enjoying himself to give a toss about it.”
Her mouth opened as if to deny his remarks, then she quickly snapped it shut and glanced away, her eyelids lowering. It hadn’t been obvious to her. Wishing he hadn’t been the one to give her the wake-up call, he reached out and grabbed her hand. “I’m sorry, I don’t really think they’re guilty. Why would they mess up a golden opportunity to get ahead in the family business? It doesn’t make any sense. Although I have to say I can’t figure out why they haven’t got to the bottom of it yet.”
Lara turned back. “You think they should know the answer already?”
Draco shrugged, wishing he hadn’t said so much. “They had a few days before you got in touch with me, didn’t they?”
“At least four. You really think they could’ve worked it out in that time?”
He squeezed her hand again. “Someone who had the skill set, probably.” Once again he wondered if he was saying too much. “And of course open access to all the systems and records, the way they do,” he added, to cover his back. “However, I doubt they’ve figured it out, or you’d have heard. That cousin of yours seems to be keeping his ear to the ground.”
She nodded. “Yes, Harry would know if they’d figured it out.”
The taxi pulled up outside an ostentatious set of gates.
Draco glanced around the street. The two properties he could see were each surrounded by tall pillars and metal railings, security systems on the entrance. Lara was paying the taxi driver. He reached into his pocket.
“Don’t be daft,” she said, “this is my treat.” She gave a nervous laugh.
He hadn’t realized quite how nervous she was, but he could see it now. The taxi light had come on. She looked pale. He climbed out of the cab and when the car drove away, he took her quickly into his arms and kissed her. “We’ll walk this, don’t worry.”
“You’re not stressed about this are you?”
He shook his head. “You’ve got more to lose, I know that.” He stroked her cheek with his thumb wanting desperately to reassure her. “I want this to work because I care about you.”
He nodded at the gate. “How the hell do we get into Fort Knox?”
Lara pressed a button on an intercom located on one of the pillars and spoke to whoever answered. The gate opened.
Draco kept hold of her hand as they walked up the gravel driveway. The sweeping drive led round to the front of a large house, a modern manor, he supposed. It looked like a recent build done in a traditional style. He hadn’t known what to expect, nor did he have an opinion on it. It did make him wonder what he would spend his millions on if he ever had the chance to make any.
As they mounted the steps to the doorway, he looked at the door, perplexed. It was a grand affair with a huge brass handle and a knocker—which seemed pretty redundant since no one could get in to knock on the door without the householders already knowing there was someone on the way up the drive.
Jamie, the younger brother opened the door. “Welcome to the high table,” he commented as he ushered them in. “Enjoy it while it lasts.”
Lara seemed surprised by the comment.
It was odd and it sharpened Draco’s attention.
Jamie drifted off, having let them in.
A glamorous woman in her thirties came out to meet them.
She and Lara exchanged fake kisses on the cheek.
“Draco, this is Cassandra, my stepmother.”
Draco shook her hand.
“Go straight into the dining room, you’re just in time.” She disappeared in a swish of expensive fabric, knock-out level perfume and high heels.
Lara led the way.
Charles was sitting at the dining table, glued to his phone. He waved in acknowledgement of their presence, but didn’t say a word.
“Ah, here you are, welcome.” It was Compton Senior.
“Thank you for the invitation, dad.” Lara hugged her dad.
Draco watched every interaction with interest. C.S. barely glanced at him, just shook his hand. There was a pretty edgy atmosphere in the house, but he sensed it wasn’t about them. Could he be right? He wasn’t going to bank on it. Surely the accusations and showdown would have already begun by now? Maybe it was just a dinner invite after all. Then again maybe Compton Senior had an elaborate plan and the cops were standing by.
C.S. instructed them where to sit, placing them on one side of the table, with his sons opposite. He sat at one end and Cassandra at the other.
Draco would’ve preferred it if he and Lara were seated opposite each other. He could feel the tension emanating from Lara by his side and it was a struggle not to constantly reach out and clasp her hand under the table to reassure her. If they’d been opposite each other, he could have judged her reactions to the conversation by studying her face. He knew her well enough. In fact he’d noticed on quite a few occasions where they seemed to communicate without speaking.
The atmosphere intrigued Draco, sharpening his attention more than it would have been anyway. He’d expected to feel uncomfortable, under scrutiny. Even though Compton Senior kept eyeballing him, it was as if they all had other concerns. He’d expected formality, but this was brittle tension sugar-coated with smiles. It was practiced too, as if it was always this way here. He could only assume it was, and they weren’t acting any differently. For a start, he expected Compton Senior to be more chilled—the Lion King in his lair with his pride around him. Instead he was watchful and edgy.
Lara chatted nervously about the traffic and the weather.
“Is seafood good for you, Draco?” Cassandra asked rather condescendingly as she put the plate down in front of him. “We’re having lobster tails.”
Good job she explained, Draco thought as he stared down at the sauce covered mass on his plate. He wondered whether her patronising tone was because he was Welsh, or just because he was supposedly a young student who she assumed was clueless about seafood. “Perfect, thank you. Where I grew up, on the North Wales coast line, fresh fish was part and parcel of everyday living.” He tried not to sound sarcastic, but Lara’s stepmother was very much the trophy wife and seemed to get a kick out of showing off her wealth and status.
“That brings back memories,” Compton Senior interjected with a half smile. “North Wales. I recall being on some sort of youth hostel camping trip when I was at school. We were in the Brecon Beacons but we visited the coastline on some spurious geography lesson.”
“It’s a popular place for visitors,” Draco responded. Too popular, sometimes, he thought to himself. “Growing up in a seaside resort has its advantages and disadvantages.”
“Transient population?” Compton Senior studied him.
“Yes. I wouldn’t change it, but the ebb and flow takes some getting used to.”
“Lots more opportunities for a keen young man in the big city.” C.S. hadn’t touched his starter but picked up his fork while he waited for Draco to reply.
Assuming this was a cue to thank him, Draco nodded. “Exactly, although I doubt I would’ve had the opportunities I’ve been given, had I not become friends with Lara at college.”
He reached for her hand under the table. She grasped it, and he could feel her hand trembling. Quickly, he turned and gave her a smile. To cover, he kept his attention on his plate, and wolfed down some of the starter.
Jamie laughed. “So what is it you found so attractive about our little sister?”
Lara’s mouth dropped open. She looked astonished. Her hand drew away from Draco’s.
Jamie winked at him, which put Draco at his ease. He sat back in his chair. “There’s quite a list. Most of all I like the fact she’s such a risk taker.”
Lara gawked at him.
“Oh yes, that’s true,” Charles said, finally looking away from his phone for a moment. “When we were kids, Lara was always the instigator behind the more reckless adventures we got into.”
She looked so astonished Draco couldn’t help winding her up a bit more, especially because the family seemed to be enjoying the way the conversation was going. “I can imagine that. She really likes danger, seeks it out, in fact.”
He took another mouthful of the food. The sauce was weird and it masked any flavour the lobster might have. He was willing to bet it came out of some expensive package from one of the posh London stores like Harrods or Fortnum and Mason. It would taste much better served fresh from a seaside fish stand on the coast in Wales. As the thought passed through his mind, he had a sudden yearning to take Lara to Wales and show her the coastline, his favourite spots, and treat her to real, fresh lobster tails packed full of flavor right by the edge of the sea where they’d come from.
“How long have you been living in London?” It was C.S., and he’d adopted a beady-eyed stare.
As expected it was turning out to be more of a trial by judge and jury than a social occasion.
Draco took a sip of his wine. He hadn’t meant to drink any of it, but they were getting into difficult territory. How much had Compton Senior found out about Sean, and would he remember enough to trigger a connection? It was a risk even letting them know he was Welsh, but there was nothing he could do about his accent. Had Compton Senior taken an interest in the case when it came to court? As he assessed the risk level, Draco grew even more concerned about Lara, understanding why she was so tense.
For him, it was easy. If a connection was made and questions rose, he could walk away—quickly, before Compton had him arrested. Lara had a hell of a lot more at stake. Once it came out, it had to be done the right way and things had to go in her favor or she could lose her family connection—tentative though it seemed to begin with—because of her endeavors to match up to her brothers.
Reminding himself of the brief outline he’d had of Steve, the guy he was supposed to be, he responded. “I came to London for college, to get a degree in business. I’m just at the end of my first year, same as Lara.”
He risked a glance. Her eyes were wide and she looked as if she was holding her breath. She’d gone quite pale. She grabbed her fork and started eating. A moment later, she addressed Cassandra. “This is really good.”
Cassandra twitched visibly when spoken to, as if she were miles away. She rose to her feet and began collecting plates as she went, whether they were empty or not, which seemed odd.
Compton Senior turned to watch his wife leave the room. Everyone did, except for Charlie, who was glued to his phone again.
“Is she always like this?” Draco whispered under his breath.
Lara shrugged.
She’d mentioned coming to dinner as a regular event, but there was no evidence of a connection or even an understanding between them. It seemed as if Lara Compton knew very little about her stepmother.
It made Draco recall the moment that Patrick Rattigan had arrived into their lives with his two sons, Rory and Sean. They’d all been a bit wary of each other at first, but the distance was very quickly broken down. They all got on well—like a house on fire, Patrick Rattigan used to say. Draco was beginning to realize how lucky he was. He was closer to his stepbrothers then Lara was to her real brothers. Dysfunctional families, he supposed. It was a game of chance.
When Sean got out of jail and they all got together, he wouldn’t forget this moment—the austere dining room atmosphere, the lack of humor and family feeling. The last year or so he’d been spending a lot of time on his own, but things would change pretty soon. Rory was with Sky now and Draco was beginning to accept it. Sean would be out of jail and the tension between himself and Rory over it would break down. That time couldn’t come soon enough for Draco.
He made a mental note to text both Sky and Rowan later, let them know he appreciated them and try to plan some sort of get together on Sean’s release.
When Cassandra came back in with the main course, Draco realized Compton senior was studying him. His thoughts had wandered.
Dishes of vegetables were set out on the table and Cassandra served hearty slabs of Beef Wellington on each dinner plate.
“I hope you don’t mind me asking, Sir,” Draco said, retrieving one of his planned questions to fill the silence, “but how long has Susanna been head of HR?”
Compton Senior seemed to welcome the opportunity to talk about the old days, and rambled on at length about setting up different departments. It was a bloody relief. Both he and Lara were interested and hung on every word, but they were the only ones.
By his side, Lara relaxed and actually ate some of the food. The beef was good, but Draco had no appetite for it. He ate some for appearances sake. He barely touched his wine. He wanted to remain sharp, in case the more difficult questions were yet to come.
The brothers were largely silent as if the meal was a commitment they had to get past. Charles disappeared at one point and when he came back he fidgeted with his nose. Had he really gone to snort coke to get through this? Wryly, Draco considered anyone might if it was like this every night.
C.S. did keep engaging with his wife, and she smiled each time. The worst of the tension was there between husband and wife, Draco noticed. Cassandra was very much the trophy wife, it was obvious. She was glamorous, and dressed sexy, with lots of obvious signs of wealth, but she didn’t engage with C.S. the way Lara attempted to. Lara was all about work chat, frequently trying to get her father to acknowledge her presence.
It made Draco want to stand up and tell the old guy what a loser father he was, and take Lara away somewhere she could relax and party, convince her to give up this insane quest to impress her father. In this environment, Draco knew more than ever he wanted her to be safe and happy. The image it created in Draco’s mind included himself in the role of protector. He had to remind himself constantly of his real role here, and that was to support Lara in her mission to impress C.S., even though he felt like doing just the opposite.
Growing up, he’d protected his two younger sisters from their mum when she went on one of her benders. Until their mum got remarried and calmed down, Draco had to make sure his sisters were safe when she got home from one of the sessions driven by drugs or alcohol, or both. Often she’d have some loser in tow. The unbidden memory made Draco feel uneasy. This wasn’t the same though.
At the end of each course, Cassandra stood up to collect the plates. Restless after the forced conversation, Draco rose from his seat after the main course and set about helping her. Immediately Cassandra looked uncomfortable.
“You don’t have to do that, you’re a guest.” She gave one of her artificial smiles.
A Stepford wife, that’s what she reminded of him of, Draco finally realized. She was artificial, almost robotic.
“Yeah, you sit down and I’ll help,” Jamie announced. He grabbed some of the serving dishes and headed off.
Lara tugged on Draco’s shirtsleeve, and looked as if she wanted him to stay.
“You have good manners, young man.” Compton Senior commented.
That annoyed Draco. The guy didn’t know anything about his upbringing and yet felt his position entitled him to comment. Whatever.
Lara widened her eyes and peered up at him pleadingly.
“Two seconds,” he whispered. He already had two plates in his hands and if he didn’t leave he’d likely lose the ability to resist smart mouthing C.S.
In the palatial hallway there were no clues as to which direction the others had gone. He wandered vaguely down the left hand side of an ornate staircase and heard plates clattering from beyond.
When he reached the kitchen, he was drawn to a sudden halt.
Cassandra had set her plates down on the work surface and Jamie was behind her. He put the plate he carried onto the work surface beside hers then put his hands on her waist and kissed the back of her neck where her skin was exposed.
Intrigued, Draco wondered if Jamie was about to get a kick in the nuts.
Jamie whispered something in his stepmother’s ear and she chuckled softly.
Pivoting on her high heels, she rubbed up against him.
Wow. Draco tried not to make a sound. Maybe this was why Jamie had greeted them with that comment about enjoying it while it lasted. He watched for a few seconds longer—just long enough to see Cassandra approved, because her head fell backwards and she pressed back into her stepson’s embrace—before he took several steps back into the hallway and said loudly, “is the kitchen here somewhere?”
He gave them a few moments to extract themselves from the incriminating position before he arrived behind them with the dirty dishes. He barely glanced at them as he deposited the dishes on the nearest flat surface inside the kitchen turned on his heel and left.
Back in the hallway, he discovered Compton Senior had followed him. The expression on Compton Senior’s face made Draco wonder. Perhaps he knew his son was making moves on his stepmother.
C. S. didn’t hold anything in his hands. They were in his pockets, and he stood in the central hallway blocking Draco’s path back to the dining room.
“Something I can help you with, Sir?” Draco knew it sounded cheeky, but he was giving the couple beyond the benefit of the doubt and warning them Compton was in the vicinity. He hadn’t particularly warmed to the old guy, but he respected him for building a massive business pretty much from scratch. Beyond that, there was a long way to go. Lara’s extreme efforts to impress her father told him enough. None of it was fair. Okay, there were probably reasons he didn’t understand. Compton Senior might be keeping Lara at a distance because she’d gone with her mother. The history was a mystery, Lara had confided very little, definitely not enough to form an objective opinion. Even so, Draco didn’t want C.S, to go in there and see what he’d seen. If he didn’t already know, it wasn’t the right time to find out. So he did the decent thing and blocked the path.
His host gave a wry smile, his eyes narrowed assessing. “What are your intentions regarding my daughter?”
“Friendship.”
“Is that all?”
Subtle. “I understand your concern, Sir. We’re good friends, we share interests arising from the business degree were studying.”
Before he had a chance to respond, he heard a chair being pushed back in the dining room and Lara was on her way out.
C.S. wasn’t going to let it drop. They were currently barring each other’s paths. This was it, a roadblock. Draco knew he had to make his decision on how to handle things, and fast.
The concern marking Lara’s face as she approached made Draco take action. He didn’t want her unnecessarily rattled.
“Why don’t we discuss it tomorrow, Sir? If you have a convenient opportunity to hear me out. In the meantime rest assured that I’m a good friend to your daughter and mean her no harm.”