Surrendered(7)
“Yeah, we should probably talk about…shit.”
I smile at her oh so eloquent speech. “We should. Go. I’ll be here when you get back.” I reach across the breakfast bar and pick up the keys to the Range Rover. “Take the car.”
“Thanks.” She flashes me a small smile, before turning away from me.
“And Lilly…” She glances over her shoulder. “I love you.”
She smiles and walks away without a response. Although really, there’s none needed. I don’t need words from her to know how she feels. I watch her sashay across to the top of the stairs, her heels tapping loudly against the wood floor. That pencil skirt hugs her in all the right places. Even with less arse to fill it, she still looks incredible.
I pick up my phone and find Claudia’s number.
“Claudia Weston.” She barks down the line.
“Claudia, it’s Theo.”
Her tone instantly changes. “Ah, Theo darling. How are you?” I’ve known Claudia a long time. She has gotten me out of more shit than you would believe. She’s the only woman who could pass off a blatant beat down as self-defence. What can I say? Hugo and I used to get into a lot of bar fights. Call it the posh boy complex if you like.
“I’m good. Listen, Lilly is going to the police station to talk to them, can you get down there?” I ask.
“I can be there in an hour.” She says.
“Okay, there are some things you need to know before you do…”
CHAPTER THREE
LILLY
I meet Claudia outside the police station. Her tiny frame steps out of a big Mercedes saloon car. The woman is all of five foot tall, but she’s bloody scary. She strides towards me purposefully.
“Theo called me. Gave me a brief run down on the child abuse thing.” She barks and waves her hand dismissively. I can feel my eyes go wide. I barely know this woman. What the fuck has he told her?! “Oh, shush dear. I just need to know what I have to work with. We won’t use that one unless we have to. So, what’s the story?” She asks as she pulls a packet of cigarettes from her handbag. She stands next to me as we both lean against the Range Rover.
It takes me a moment to find my voice. She’s so abrupt. It irks me to know that she knows things about me, but I it’s all to help Harry. “I think I’m just going to tell them my mother was an alcoholic. They won’t have enough evidence or cause to hold him. He’ll at least get bail until the trial. We can work out the finer details then.” I’ve thought about this, I’d rather not talk to a room full of strangers about my past, but I would do it without a second thought if I thought it would get my brother out. I don’t want to get into it, as the police are bound to look into it - a potential paedophile ring is not something that they will just over look. If they look into Shaun, then they are going to try and find Shaun… I can’t do anything that will arouse suspicion in that direction. It’s too risky.
If I tell them my mother was an alcoholic and that’s why we ran it’s giving them something, but not enough that they will dig. My mother apparently can’t be found, so essentially I can say whatever I like to implicate her. Fuck. I need more time, and I need to talk to Harry. They won’t let me see him until they’ve interviewed me. I don’t know what he’s already said. I know he wouldn’t say anything about Shaun. Harry is nothing if not predictable, especially when it comes to me. I love my brother, but he is ridiculously over-protective. He’ll always take the hit for me, and now he’s in this mess because of it. I just want him out. I need him. This all feels like some sick and twisted joke. It always seems like the good people are the ones who come off worst. Harry is good to the core. There are few who are more selfless and kind than my brother.
He does not deserve to be behind bars because of my disgusting excuse for a mother. I will never understand her hatred of Harry. It seems so irrational, so unfounded, but then, she is a drunk. I know better than most that alcohol can mess you up, but after that many years, it must fundamentally change a person. She’s delusional. There’s a small part of me that pities her. She’s so alone in the world. No-one cares if she lives or dies, and that is a terrible thing for anyone to experience. She wasn’t always this bitter person, but she allowed her grief to control her until she became this person. She failed in her number one duty, to be a mother, and now she has stooped so low as to want to harm her own son. There is no redemption for someone like her, only bitter, twisted loneliness. I pity her at the same time as I hate her. If you want to crash and burn, that’s fine, but you don’t take the people you love, or at least once loved, down with you.