Chapter Eight – George

He watched her. His eyes fixed to her as she walked away. She was a woman in turmoil, fighting some internal dragon. His goal today was to find out what that dragon was. Or who? She was running from something, or someone, and he aimed to track them down and annihilate them.

His dragon stretched and flexed his claws. I haven’t had a good annihilation for years.

I don’t necessarily mean physically, George answered.

Pity, his dragon replied lazily, puffing smoke into the air.

George was a powerful man. A rich man. There were few who were untouchable to George Lancaster. He had made himself strong and powerful, all because of this woman.

He put his jacket on and adjusted his tie in the mirror. This was who he was now. So removed from the person who had seen a woman in a blue dress across the room.

He turned to look along the hallway as she reappeared, the child in her arms. He heard the boy’s sleepy voice, and his mate promise him breakfast. A smile flittered across George’s face, and something stirred in his chest that was not lust. It was something deeper, and not just a need to protect.

There, in the hallway, stood everything this man could ever need. They could strip away the money, and the power, and leave him with these two people, and he could be happy.

But squashing our enemies like a bug would be much more satisfying, his dragon rumbled.

“Good morning, Charlie,” George said gently to his son, who smiled shyly in return and hid his sleepy face in his mother’s neck.

“Say morning, Daddy,” Poppy prompted softly.

Charlie looked up at George, studying him, before answering, “Morning… Daddy.” The word “daddy” was spoken as if it were a new, foreign word, then Charlie hid his face in Poppy’s neck once more, and whispered, “What’s a daddy?”

Poppy’s face flushed red. “A daddy is the same as a mommy, only he’s a man.”

“He doesn’t know what a father is?” George asked.

“We’ve lived on our own since before Charlie could talk. It never came up,” Poppy said.

“You lived alone? The two of you?” George asked, glimpsing a chink of information he could use.

“Yes,” Poppy said, kissing Charlie.

“On a mountain.” Charlie threw his arms open wide.

George frowned at Poppy. “You were in hiding?”

She closed her eyes and nodded. “I wanted Charlie to be safe.”

“From the bad men,” George murmured, remembering Charlie’s words from last night.

“Yes.”

The crease in George’s brow deepened. “Was I counted among those bad men?”

She hesitated, but then said, “Not in the same way.”

“Then in what way?” George asked, squaring up to her, before relaxing. He did not want to come over as threatening; he didn’t want Charlie to see him as a bad man who threatened his mommy. “Of course.”

“Of course what?” she asked defensively.

“You knew how important the blade was.”

“Not until after.” She shook her head. “And then it was too late.”

“And you were afraid of what I would do to you? That is why you never came to me,” George asked, the picture clearer.

“Not physically.” She kissed Charlie and hugged him tight. “I was afraid you might take…” Poppy didn’t finish her sentence.

“I would never part a child from his mother,” George insisted.

Poppy smiled weakly, hugging the child tighter. “He’s all I have.”

“We should go downstairs and get Charlie some breakfast.” George headed for the stairs, feeling happier, lighter. Poppy had not revealed much, but it was enough. Enough for him to begin to piece the puzzle together. With the information he already held, he would make a link, and the whole mess would unravel, leaving him with the means to go after the person, or persons responsible. “I’m afraid Alfie will make you porridge.”

“I like porridge,” Charlie admitted.

“We have it for breakfast most mornings,” Poppy stated.

“Unless we’ve walked to the store, and then I get chocolate flakes,” Charlie said happily. “Can we go back to the store and buy some soon, Mommy?”

“There are stores here. Different stores,” Poppy explained. “We can go and buy some…”

George turned to look at Poppy. “I can order some in.” He smiled at her. “You and Charlie came here for my protection. For now, that means you should stay in the house or grounds.”

“Good idea,” Poppy readily agreed.

“We also have a pool,” George announced.

“Like the one in the mountains?” Charlie asked excitedly.

“No, not like that,” Poppy replied. “But I bet this one is warmer.”

“Good, because the Icicle Pool is brrrr, cold,” Charlie said, shaking and then giggling.

George laughed. “Much warmer.”

“Sir?” Alfie asked, suddenly appearing in the kitchen doorway, his face one of shock as he took in the scene before him. “I thought I heard voices. I nearly went to get my gun.”

“No guns needed,” George insisted quickly. “This is Poppy. And this is Charlie.”

“Are we taking in waifs and strays now?” Alfie asked suspiciously.

“No,” George said, with a hint or warning in his voice. “Poppy and Charlie are our guests.”

“He’s my daddy,” Charlie blurted out.

Alfie grabbed hold of the doorframe for support. “Your what?”

“Poppy, why don’t you take Charlie though into the kitchen, while I talk to Alfie,” George suggested.

“Sure,” Poppy agreed. “Come on, Charlie bear, let’s go get you a drink. If that’s OK with you?” she asked Alfie.

“Ye… Yes. Orange juice in the fridge,” Alfie said, looking at her intently as she walked by, before turning back to his boss and raising his eyebrow in question.

George shrugged. “A surprise for me too.”

“It’s true?” Alfie asked.

“The boy is mine, yes,” George confirmed. “But that is classified. It stays within these four walls. Understood?”

Alfie nodded. “Where did she come from? She didn’t come home with you last night, and I never heard anyone knocking on the door.”

“That is a good question,” George asked. “She was in my bedroom. Last night.”

“She got in?” Alfie’s mouth fell open. “How?” He shook his head furiously. “I never let her in. I never left the gate open.”

“It’s OK, Alfie.” The old man needed to know the truth. “Poppy is good at getting in… Or more particularly … out of places unseen.”

“You mean she’s the thief?” Alfie said, his hand going to his brow. “Such a long, noble bloodline… tainted.”

“It still is noble,” George insisted. “I’m proud to call Charlie my son.”

“She named him after your father?” Alfie asked, coming closer to George.

“I think it’s coincidence,” George admitted. “To Poppy, I was a means to an end. I don’t think she planned to conceive my child. I don’t expect she would have given me a moment’s thought, if she had not discovered she was pregnant.”

“And it’s taken her how many years to tell you?” Alfie asked.

“I know, old friend, but she is here now, and I plan to make the most of it,” George confided.

“And why is she here now?” Alfie asked.

“Because we are close,” George gave Alfie a knowing look.

“You think we’re close to retrieving the blade?” Alfie asked in surprise.

“We shall see. Pieces are moving across the board. And I aim to be the last man standing,” George announced.

“I hope you are that last man, sir, you know I do. But I also hope you can let it go… if it comes down to a choice between the blade and your family. She is your mate?” Alfie asked.

George sighed, and nodded. “When you are growing up, you expect everything to be so much less complicated than it ever ends up being.”

“That is the joy of life, sir. It’s why your mother gave you your name,” Alfie smiled.

George huffed, like he had when he was a child, every time someone teased him about being named after the greatest dragon-slayer who ever lived. “She was a wise woman,” George agreed.

“And let her be your guide now. I know the blade is a symbol of honor to your family. But family is more important than honor.”

George slapped Alfie on the back. “I’m glad you are here to remind me of that, old friend.”

“I owe you much, sir. I will always remember that.”

“Does that mean you will babysit them for me?” George looked at his watch. “I have to get to the office.”

“I will,” Alfie agreed. “Are you going without breakfast? I made your favorite.”

“Let them eat it.” George smiled. “I hear they like porridge.”

“There’s nothing wrong with porridge. It’s an old Scotch recipe,” Alfie said.

George grinned as he walked past Alfie, and into the kitchen. There he found Poppy and Charlie drinking orange juice. “I have to go. Alfie will show you around. Including the pool. Stay on the grounds, please.” His words were meant to come out as a request, but they were more of a command, even to his own ears.

“Yes, sir,” Poppy said, with a mock salute.

“I mean it,” George stated firmly. “I’m going to make sure the security is beefed up too. Since you managed to get in with a small child in tow.” He frowned. “You never did tell me how you did it.”

“It was easy,” Charlie said.

George cocked his head. “Really?”

“Pretty easy,” Poppy agreed.

“Are you going to tell me?” he asked.

“You have security sensors spread out along the top of the walls. They are impossible to disable without setting them off.” Poppy began.

“So you didn’t come over the wall,” George questioned.

“No. I didn’t have the correct tools to disable them,” Poppy said matter-of-factly. “That left the gate.”

George nodded. “The gate is still intact, and if you didn’t have the tools to disable the sensors, you wouldn’t have had the correct tools to disable the keypad.”

“No,” Poppy agreed. “Which left only one thing to do.”

“We sneaked in,” Charlie whispered, jumping down, and crouched down, creeping along the side of the counter.

“You sneaked in?” George repeated.

“Yes. When a delivery arrives, the truck is let in. It does not set off the motion sensors. They drive slowly, so we positioned ourselves behind the truck, and followed it in. When it gets to where the road bends, by the pond, we hid in the trees.”

“Easy as that?” George asked.

“I don’t know about easy. But simple yes.” Poppy smiled. “Don’t feel so bad. Not many people realize how these things work.”

“It was Mommy’s job,” Charlie announced, popping up from behind the counter.

“Yes, I suppose it was.” George nodded thoughtfully. “I’ll upgrade security. Ask Alfie if there is anything you need. I will be home around five.”

With that, he stalked out of the kitchen.