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She indicated her driver who stood to her right side. “This is my driver, Vincenzo. He’ll take us to the meeting.”
Mario studied the driver closely and a frown wrinkled his forehead. I wondered what that was about.
“You will take Miss Nikita straight there and as soon as the meeting is over, bring her back here.”
“She’ll be in good hands, Sir,” Vincenzo assured.
Mario placed a hand on my shoulder, and I noticed he still looked at the driver strangely. “Call if you need anything.”
I patted his hand. “Benvolio’s obsessive worrying is rubbing off on everyone around him. I’ll be fine.”
We didn’t speak further. Marilyn and I climbed into the back of the vehicle, Vincenzo slid behind the wheel, and we left the property.
***
"You have achieved excellent grades and we expect you will graduate with equally high scores. Sydney University, is that correct?"
“Yes. I loved the degree. It will be my honour to have the opportunity to nurture young minds in the world of literature and language.”
“I’m sure you will be an excellent teacher.”
I glanced through the window and frowned. The car was headed into the city, but the school was located in Mosman, a suburb close to Lucia and Benvolio's homes. The annoying voice in my head began nagging at me again—warning me something was wrong and asking if I was sure Marilyn was who she'd said she was. I'd never actually checked. Instead, I had taken her word when she'd introduced herself as the principal of Mosman Key Grammar. Alarm bells were sounding but I ignored them and told the voice in my head to shut the fuck up and fuck off. I was giving myself a huge attack of anxiety over something in my imagination.
“Where are we going?” I kept my voice even and calm.
“Our meeting is at one of the board member’s homes in Redfern. We don’t have access to the school on weekends and we thought having it at her home would make you feel more relaxed.”
Okay, that made sense. The nerves and anxiety that had been competing for first place in an Olympic-sized event, started to calm.
“How long have you been at the school?” I asked Marilyn.
“Nine years. Previously, I was at a college in the western suburbs for fifteen years.”
“Do you teach a class?”
"Only if someone calls in sick at the last minute. Being the principal keeps me busy enough, although I do miss teaching the children."
“I understand. It must require long hours to keep on top of everything.”
"It does and the pay could be better. The pay for first-time teachers is terrible and the job will involve hours of your own time."
“I don’t mind. The money isn’t important, and I like to be busy.”
Vincenzo pulled our car into the driveway of a red brick tenement house. The small garden out front was unkempt and the house itself was in obvious need of repair. I glanced at the other homes nearby and thought the area looked on the verge of dereliction.
It wasn't my place to judge how others lived though and I stepped from the car with Marilyn and Vincenzo. The driver led the way to the front door and pushed inside without knocking or ringing a bell. It seemed strange but I shrugged and followed. Marilyn entered last and closed the door.
Once inside, I was led down a hallway, through a door off to our left and down a set of steps leading into what turned out to be a basement. My heels clicked on the concrete floor as I moved away from the stairs.
The room was vacant but well-lit. There were no chairs. No tables. When my spine prickled, I knew something was very wrong. I turned to head back upstairs but Vincenzo grabbed me roughly by the arm. I fought against his hold, but the man tightened his grip.
“You’re not going anywhere. My boss will be here shortly, and I need to get you ready.”
“I don’t know who the fuck your boss is, and I don’t fucking care. I’m leaving now.”
I reached into my handbag and took out the phone, but before I could dial Mario, both were snatched from my hands by Marilyn.
“Turn it off,” Vincenzo growled and Marilyn, if that was her name, did as asked.
