Page 2 of Save Me
“So, Mayfield is a good thing then?” the boy asked, still wearing his worried frown. “It’s there to help people?”
Pru opened her mouth to answer him, trying to choose her words carefully so as not to frighten the boy. Before she could say a single thing, however, a creaky floorboard sounded from outside of his room, where the shadows of two feet darkened the space beneath the door. They were listening.
“Of course,” she said brusquely, then swallowed back the bile as she tucked him in again. “Mayfield has always been a good organization, and one day…” She paused to sniff back the threatening onslaught of tears, the ones that desperately wanted to come out in a loud and dramatic fashion. “One day, you will be part of it too.”
The boy smiled, seemingly relieved over Pru’s reassurances, then turned onto his side to go to sleep.
“Goodnight, Pru,” he whispered with his eyes now firmly closed.
“Goodnight, Oliver,” she whispered back before kissing him on the cheek, lingering there for just a few seconds longer tonight.
When she opened the door, she gasped at the sight of the boy’s father, still leaning against the wall opposite and smirking to himself.
“That was quite a story, Prudence,” he said softly, stroking his fingers over her cheek and causing her shiver. “I don’t say it often enough, Pru, but you do an excellent job with Oliver. You’re going to make someone very happy one day.” He smiled before looking her up and down in such a way the poor nanny felt instantly cold. “Very happy indeed,” he whispered into her ear. “Goodnight, Prudence.”
“Goodnight, Mr Lawrence,” she murmured before walking away as quickly as her legs would allow her to, all the while the man watched her retreating figure unapologetically from his resting spot.
Chapter 1
Beth, now
“Mother, what in God’s name have you gotten me into?!”
The house before me is the type of fancy, over-the-top, wish-it-were-mine, kind of place you see on Sunday afternoon family films. A place that would be well over a million back in the space restraints of the UK. Even in the small town in which we had lived, back in Texas, they were much more modest and usually with a lovely trail of sand everywhere you trod. California is proving to be much closer to the modern world, and infinitely more intimidating than my previous homes. This abode in particular, is definitely such a place to set my heart racing. The noise of thumping music and laughing teenagers inside does nothing to quell my fears.
Deciding this is a hang-around-for-two-hours-before-sneaking-off type of thing, and only to keep my mother happy at that, I take out my phone and begin calling the woman herself. I then perch my butt down on the step and pray to God that she actually has it switched on.
“I’m not picking you up yet, Beth!” She shocks me by answering after the fourth ring tone.
“So, when are you picking me up?” I throw back at her, just to make it abundantly clear, even after the twenty minutes of non-stop ranting I gave her on the way over, that I do not want to be here…at all!
“Tomorrow morning, around eleven,” she replies while trying to stifle back a nervous laugh. Her horrifying answer has me almost slapping the phone in shock.
“Ha, ha, very funny!” I retort sarcastically.
“No, actually, Beth, I mean it,” she says rather guiltily. “Casey’s parents invited us to one of their soirees and booked us a room and everything. Beth, I never get to go to places where I get to actually dress up!”
“What about Riley?!” I reply a few octaves higher than normal because a deep-set panic has now started drip-feeding into me, making the chemical imbalance inside of my already hormone-ridden body feel violently sick.
“He’s gone around next door’s house. He and Sam are having a whale of a time!” She laughs nervously, no doubt bracing herself for the epic breakdown she knows I’m about to have.
“But, but-”
“Casey’s mother has texted her and asked for you to have a room for the night, so let your hair down and enjoy yourself, Beth! You’re going to be attending school with these people in a few days’ time, so mingle!”
“I hate mingling!” I growl through clenched teeth.
“I know you do, sweetheart, but do it for me? Please?” she begs down the phone, making my teeth grind together in frustration.
“Oh, hang on a sec, Beth, your father wants to talk to-”
“Beth? Beth, are you ok?” he asks, sounding all of a fluster and more than a little concerned. “Beth, please be careful, you know what’s at stake, don’t let anyone-”
I hang up before he can even finish that sentence because I’m mad enough as it is. I bet the bastard was walking away from Mum so she wouldn’t pick up on that little guilt trip. His anxieties have now fallen to me, even though it was his fuck up that led me to having to ‘be careful’ in the first place. But that’s a whole other story.
I have one last snarl toward the phone, who I like to think is trembling in fear back at me, even though it is a plastic piece of crap that isn’t even alive. Shit!
I huffily get to my feet and brush the back of my jeans down before knocking on the door, bracing myself for what is surely going to be an epically awful night. That’s right, I’m beginning on a thoroughly negative outlook on this, but one that will be warranted, mark my words.