Aria Graice - 37. Chapter 37

Amara refused to allow Drew to help him and he walked slowly with his head high. Drew knew it had to hurt. Cracked ribs were bad enough, but the deep bruising would be making every movement a struggle. Yet, despite an obvious stiffness, Amara didn’t show any sign of pain or distress. Drew was impressed.

The boys sat on the two seats at the desk and Drew stood between them, a hand on each shoulder. Lady Jane sat on the other side of the desk and for the first time her iron-clad composure cracked. She cleared her throat a few times and looked as if she was about to speak, only to close her mouth and glance away. Drew took pity on her.

“Do you know that your parents—mainly your mother—forbade your grandmother from seeing you for years?”

Aria glanced up at him. “No, but it wouldn’t surprise us. We’re forbidden to see our other grandparents, too.”

“But we see you,” Amara said coldly. “We’d come a few times, then you’d get fed up with us and we wouldn’t see you for years. When we did come, you’d act as if you didn’t want us here. And we didn’t want to be here. Why would we? The place is a museum and you’re…you’re…” He turned to Aria. “What did Star call her?”

“Um.” Aria glanced away, looking uncomfortable. “A stodgy harridan,” he whispered.

“Yeah, something like that.”

Lady Jane looked crushed. “I’m so sorry. I never meant to…” She sighed. “Yes, I did. That’s exactly what I meant to be, and you can never imagine how hard that was for me.” She took a deep breath and rose. Going to a small bookcase, tucked away under the massive shelving unit, she chose a few books and brought them back to the table. Turning one toward the boys, she pushed it over.

The twins scowled at her, but Aria reached out and dragged the book closer. When he opened it, Drew realized it wasn’t so much a book, as a scrapbook, filled with photographs of the boys as well as news cuttings regarding their birth and first months. There were also handwritten letters from Julianna and Henley. They were short, cold and merely informing her of the births and some factual detail. Page followed page and the twins grew before Drew’s eyes, from beautiful babies to adorable toddlers. Some of the photographs were taken in that very house, and what were presumably the grounds. Julianna was in very few of them. Most were of Lady Jane holding the babies or on her knees with the toddlers, an expression of pride and joy on her face.

“But…” Aria said, raising his head to look at his grandmother. “If you loved us then, when did you start to hate us? Why?”

Lady Jane opened a second book and pushed it over the desk. This time, the twins were about seven years old, identical in every way and looking so happy it hurt Drew.

“Go through it a bit – to the letter.”

The letter was short, in an elaborate, decorative hand on white paper embossed in gold.

Despite your cruel and hateful attacks, I have decided to forgive, for forgiveness is divine n’est pas. I shall allow my darling boys to visit on the strictest of conditions that you do not try to steal their affections from me. You shall not be left alone with them, either Henley or myself shall supervise at all times. Neither shall you show undue affection. If you refuse or fail to comply, you will not see my angels again.

The letter was signed in a flamboyant flourish that Drew assumes to be Julianna’s signature.

“I don’t understand,” Amara said, sounding lost. “What does she mean by “cruel and hateful attacks”?”

“I tried to convince your father to allow you to live with me when he was away. I engaged a solicitor and was considering court proceedings.”

“But why?” Aria asked, even more lost than his brother.

“Because I did not, and do not, agree with the way your mother was treating you. I wanted to take care of you, to give you a happy childhood with someone who cared.”

“And who might that be?” Amara asked coldly. “You? You never once showed any care to us. You treated us like…inconveniences. You looked down on us. You were like her. Nothing we ever did was good enough.”

Lady Jane reached across and turned a few more pages. Aria touched the carefully laminated certificate. “My swimming certificate.” He turned the page to find Amara’s. Subsequent pages contained school certificates, photographs of prize-givings, newspaper cuttings and more photographs. This time, there were none of the boys with their grandmother unless one or both of their parents were in them too.

“But why?”

“Because I was proud of you. Of everything you achieved. I have every achievement documented, at least those I was aware of. I was in contact with your schools, had discussions with your agent, Amara. Every single thing I could. People talked to me, even though they shouldn’t have, because they were worried about you, and knew I genuinely cared. Even so, it wasn’t much. There is only so far anyone can step beyond their authority, and I am not your parent after all. To be fair, your father often sent me things without your mother’s knowledge. I have a separate folder of letters from him, documenting small milestones in your lives. Snippets of information. Photographs from some film set or another.”

Amara dropped his head, while Aria continued to flick through the book.

“We didn’t know,” Amara said at last.

“Of course not. How could you? Your mother was terrified I’d take you away from her. She was jealous of me and determined you would never like me more than her. She forced me to be cold and distant and if I showed affection to you, or you to me, she would stop the visits. As you can see, I went years with no contact.”

“How do we know you’re telling the truth?”

“You don’t. You can’t. All you can do is look at the evidence, together with what you know of your parents, and make up your own mind.”

“There’s something else you should know,” Drew said. Both boys turned, tilting up their faces to gaze at him with identical expressions.

“Your grandmother sent her own personal assistant to take care of you. To be close to you and provide as much support as she could. She needed to know there was at least someone in your lives looking after you, caring about you.”

“I don’t understand,” Amara said. “Who did she send? Why don’t we know them?”

“We do,” Aria said. He turned back to Lady Jane. “It’s Alicia isn’t it?”

“Alicia?” Amara said, sounding angry. “You sent Alicia to spy on us. I thought she… She was the only one who—”

“She wasn’t sent to spy on you. She was sent to make sure you had someone to turn to when you needed it.”

“We trusted her.”

“Mara,” Aria said firmly. “I-I’m not cross.”

“But Alicia was… I thought she was…”

“She was. She is. Don’t you see, it’s even better? We always knew she was working for Maman and had to do what Maman said. She was never free. You know how much she hated it when Maman gave those stupid instructions and did bad things to us. At least she had grandmother to talk to about it. I’m sure grandmother helped sometimes.”

From the expression on Lady Jane’s face, Aria was giving her one of his smiles. Amara was a tougher nut to crack.

“She was still a plant. You had no right to do that. To send someone to spy on us. And what good did it do? Neither she nor you could stop a single thing that woman did to us, or make Father do anything about it either.”

“I don’t pretend to be blameless. Looking back, I made so many mistakes. I should never have let the court proceedings drop. I was terrified that if we lost I would never see you again, never know what was happening to you. I made bad decisions. My son made bad decisions, and I allowed him to. I will never forgive myself for any of that. But neither will I regret anything I did to keep contact with you, to keep you in my life.”

“I…I need to think,” Amara said, shaking his head. “It’s too much.”

“I understand. Mr. Chance will take you to the flat. I think we can forget dinner tonight. You can eat in your rooms. I’ll see you for breakfast in the morning.”

Lady Jane rose and started across the room.

“Wait.”

Drew was surprised by Aria’s word. Not just because he’d spoken, but because it had been in such a strong, commanding tone. He was even more surprised when Aria got to his feet and glided over to his grandmother. Standing before her, he gazed into her face for a moment, then raised his hand to lay it against the side of her face, still gazing into her eyes. She bent slightly to better accommodate him.

Eventually, Aria dropped his hand. “You’re a good person,” he said at last. “I believe you do love us, but you haven’t been very nice. It doesn’t matter why. We’ll give you a chance but don’t screw up again.”

Lady Jane gave him a sweet, gentle smile, and in that moment, Drew was shocked by his first real sense of family resemblance. Although he was pretty sure that smile was rare, it was every bit as special as Aria’s.

“I’m an old woman, my darling. I’ve had to be strong and it’s made be hard, but I’ll try. I promise you that much. I will try.”

Aria pondered again for a moment, then he nodded. “So will we.”

Lady Jane’s smile notched up as she straightened. “I’ll see you for breakfast in the morning.

She paused before leaving, the smile replaced by a harder expression. “Would you please send that dreadful creature you insist on bringing with you, to join me in the sitting room as soon as he can. We have some unfinished business to conclude before we can all begin to relax and get to know each other properly.”

Amara got to his feet and turned stiffly. “This is what we mean. How can we ever believe that you care for us when you treat our friends so badly? What has Jay ever done to you? You’re horrible to them and that’s nothing to do with Mother.”

Lady Jane drew herself up. “There’s more to that boy than you know. Perhaps you would be wise to be less trusting when it comes to your friends and make more effort to establish who they truly are.” She sighed and brushed down her clothing. making a clear effort to relax and smile. “I commend your loyalty to your friend. Send him to me and once I’ve had my say, I promise I will listen to him and make an effort to “be nice”, even to him.”

Drew could practically hear Amara’s teeth grinding. “Jay’s not a boy. Stop calling them “him”. I know you know it’s what they want and you’re only being disrespectful. And stop talking about them as if they’re a piece of street trash. They’re our friend, our best friend. We love them and if you can’t at least be civil to them we can’t stay here.”

Lady Jade seemed startled, then she nodded curtly. “I shall bear that in mind and treat him…them with the respect they are due. I give you my word.”

Before either of the boys could say another word, she stepped out, closing the door firmly behind her.

For a moment, no one moved, then Aria turned and gazed at Amara. Drew remained silent, sensing it was one of those strange twin moments when the boys almost seemed to be communicating telepathically. This time, though, he caught the emotions flowing across Aria’s face, that Amara was clearly so much better than he at reading.

Finally, Amara sighed and sat down heavily. “Alright,” he said, listlessly opening and closing the photograph album. “I’ll give her a chance. If she’s nice to Jay, too.”

“She doesn’t like Jay,” Aria said, sitting down again.

“You don’t say.”

“A lot of people don’t like Jay.”

“A lot of people are idiots.”

“That’s true.”

The twins fell silent for a while, leafing through the albums, then Aria pointed out a particularly cute shot and Amara recalled a memory from another and soon they had their heads together, pouring over the books, discussing photographs, memories and things Drew had no part in. He left them to it and wandered around the room, idly perusing the books. He was, of course, drawn to the shelves that contained the photograph albums.

In fact, the whole book case was filled with albums, scrap books, magazines etc, not only on the boys but also their father, and surprisingly their mother. Keeping tabs on the enemy?

A filing cabinet next to the book shelf also contained a mass of information on the boys, each folder carefully labelled and categorized. In the third drawer down were folders on other people, presumably those who’d been close to the boys at one time or another. Drew leafed through them curiously, until he found the one with his name on it. He felt justified in snooping considering the information concerned him.

Whoever did the research was thorough, he’d give them that. Everything from his birth certificate to army records, to testimonials from some of his bodyguard clients. There were candid photographs that made him uncomfortable but he supposed he’d have to get over that now with the paparazzi always on their case.

As he was sliding the folder back into the drawer, another caught his eye. It was labelled Jayson (Jay) Stephens. Jay? With trembling fingers, Drew picked up the folder and opened it. He froze with shock, then took a breath and started to read.

“What are you looking at?”

Drew jumped at the gentle touch on his arm. He jerked it away and swung around. Aria gasped and took a step back.

“I’m sorry.”

Drew dropped the folder back into the drawer and kicked it closed, then wrapped his arms around Aria, unable to bear the wide-eyed expression of fear he’d elicited by his shocked reaction.

“Oh God, don’t be sorry. Don’t be sorry, and please don’t be frightened of me. You have to understand that I’ve been a soldier for most of my life. I’m trained to react, and you unsettle me because you get right under my guard when you shouldn’t be able to. I think it’s going to be a long, long time before I stop being startled by you but I swear I will never, ever hurt you and I will never be angry with you for getting close to me. Just know that if you startle me, I’ll react. It’s not your fault; it’s not my fault; it just is, and we’ll work on it, okay?”

Aria nodded against his chest, and Amara stopped glaring at him.

“Come on. Let’s get go see this flat of yours and get you settled in. Then lunch sounds like a good idea. Don’t get me wrong, I love stodgy fast food, but it would be nice to get some good coffee.”

The converted basement was unbelievable. It took up almost an entire wing and was probably bigger than three floors of the London house put together. A flight of stairs off the hall took them down to a long corridor lined with doors­—four on one side, three on the other and one at the end. Thick carpet in shades of black and grey swallowed the sound of their footsteps and crystal chandeliers with smoky crystal droppers gave a shadowy feel to what was actually a well-lit hall. Between each door hung framed posters of Henley and Julianna in various film roles.

Without a glance at the hall, Aria went straight to the first door on the right and opened it. Drew followed him and Amara into a living room that was bigger than any room Drew had seen outside a public building. It seemed to be divided in three distinct areas, each accessible to the corridor through its own door. The furthest part was a kitchen area, separated by a breakfast bar, then a dining area containing a table that must be big enough for twenty. The closest and largest area contained a massive “L” shaped sofa, a television that filled an entire wall, a bar, a row of vintage arcade games, a fish tank built into the wall and a long, low bookcase. Although, Drew knew there were no windows, one wall was draped with gauzy curtains that gave an illusion of windows behind them. The ceilings were high, the floors were solid inlaid wood, and every single item looked new and more expensive than Drew would like to guess.

Sprawled on the sofa, looking very out of place was Jeff. He was watching a western that looked like it had been made in the fifties. When the door opened, he sat up and placed the soda he was drinking on the massive coffee table that filled the space between the arms of the sofa.

“You took your time,” he said. “I was expecting you last night.”

“Yeah well, you didn’t travel in the bus.”

“What is this bus you speak of?”

“Cerrian’s new baby. She’s going to India again.”

“Ah yes, and where is that gorgeous sister of yours?”

“Parking the bus in the garage, then heading to the kitchen with the other plebs. No idea why they let the likes of you in here.”

Jeff chuckled. Jeff had met Drew’s family on a number of occasions and had a soft spot for Cerrian. He treated her with fatherly affection even though he was nowhere near old enough to be her father. Not that she didn’t act as if he was.

Amara sank onto the sofa with a sigh and Aria immediately curled against him.

“Are you sure you’re alright here?” Drew asked, wary of making any demands and triggering Amara’s temper. “Should you be in bed.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Jeff demanded. “That’s the last place he needs to be.”

“He’s two days out of hospital with broken ribs and deep bruising. Where the hell else should he be?”

“Sitting up and moving around. You should know that. Are you doing your breathing and coughing exercises?” Jeff asked, turning to Amara.

“Don’t get the chance,” Amara grumbled. “Drew keeps drugging me.”

“If the doctor hadn’t meant you to take the pain relief, he wouldn’t have given it to you. You’d rather be in pain.”

“And he’s right,” Jeff said.

“What do you mean.” Drew hadn’t meant his words to come out as a snarl, but he had to concentrate to rein in his anger that Jeff would be suggesting he watch Amara struggle in pain.

“You’re forgetting yourself, Drew. Stop being an overprotective dick trying to be a superhero and curing all their ills by wrapping them up in cotton wool. Think about it. The treatment for cracked ribs is gentle exercise and having a good cough every couple of hours to keep the chest clear. Yeah it’ll hurt, but he can get by with a couple of co-codamol and a cushion.”

“But…”

“You want to protect them and save them from pain. Trust me, I get it. That’s how I am with Jenna and the kids, but you’re not doing him any good, and you should know better. You can’t afford to get soft, not now. If Amara can handle the pain, let him, and for God’s sake do those exercises.”

“What exercises?”

Jeff frowned at Amara. “I blame you for that bit. I’m disappointed you didn’t take more responsibility for your own health. We had this discussion. I went through the exercises with you and we agreed that the best way to help your brother was to take care of yourself. And where’s that bloody hyperactive pixie. We went through this with them, too.”

Despite everything, Drew snorted at Jeff’s description of Jay, but right on the heels of his amusement, the images he’d seen in the folder hit him in the stomach like a physical blow.

“I’m sorry.” Amara mumbled.

“And so you should be.”

“Tell me, Jeff,” Aria said. “I’ll make sure he does them and that Drew doesn’t get soft.”

Jeff’s expression softened to mush. “I know you will, precious, but it’s still not your responsibility.”

Amara sighed. “Alright, alright, we can do it now.”

“And every two hours.”

The twins nodded as one. Drew was then forced to watch while, hugging a pillow, Amara was put through a gruelling set of breathing and coughing exercises by Jeff, that left him shivering but triumphant.

“That wasn’t too bad,” he said, despite evidence to the contrary. “I can handle it.”

“You still have to keep taking the pain meds,” Jeff said sternly, “but we’ll figure out a maintenance dose that means you can get about without passing out every few minutes.” Again, Amara and Aria gave their double nod, and Jeff stepped back, satisfied. “Were you paying attention,” he asked Drew, catching him by surprise thinking about Jay.

“Huh?”

“What am I going to do with you,” Jeff said, ruffling his hair. “I think I’m going to have to go back to when you were sixteen and teach you the basics all over again. You’ve gone soft, old man.”

The twins snickered and Drew laughed out loud. “Guilty, but only when the twins are concerned.”

They were interrupted by loud whistling in the hall and the door opened to admit Cerrian, who looked very pleased with herself. When she saw Jeff, she squealed and ran across the room leaping into his arms. Jeff hugged her and spun around while she held on tight with her legs around his waist. “Daddy Jeff,” she yelled.

“I see you haven’t grown up much since we last met,” Jeff said, setting her on her feet.

Cerrian tossed her hair. “Pft, growing up is very overrated. Just call me Petunia Pan. I’ve got my own Tinkerbell after all. They’ve been shedding pixie dust on me all the way.”

“Where is Jay,” Drew asked, the unease that had been twisting his gut since he’d found the file flaring to searing dread.

“Some fancy butler guy came to the kitchen and told them Her Ladyship wanted to talk to them. Come to think of it they looked like they were being led to their execution.” She faltered. “Do you think I should have gone with them?”

“No.” Drew shook his head. “They probably wouldn’t have let you. You know how stubborn they are. Even worse than these two.” He tried to smile but the burning his belly wouldn’t let him.

“It Jay in trouble?” Aria asked.

“No, I don’t think so. You know what your grandmother’s like better than I do. I think I should go give them some moral support though.”

“I should come,” Aria said, getting to his feet.

“Me too.”

“No. It’ll only make it worse if we all go steaming in. I’ll go. Don’t worry, I won’t let her hurt them.”

“Hurt them? Why would she hurt them?”

“You know what I mean. Figuratively speaking.”

He strode across the room before anyone had a chance to say anything further. Jeff followed him out of the door.

“Is there something I should know?” Jeff asked.

“Yeah, but I’ll tell you later.”

“If it’s bad I need to know.”

“It’s bad, mate, but for Jay. I need to get to them.”

Jeff nodded.

“Keep those two in here, yeah?”

Jeff nodded again, then he grinned. “But you owe me a beer.”

Drew managed to return his smiled. “One of many.”