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“No one goes near her, you hear me?”
“Yes.”
“You fucking shoot any cunt that looks at her. ’Cause if anything happens to my girl on your watch, I’ll be putting a bullet in your head, son.”
The venom in his words cuts through my veins. How can any man treat their child like this? To threaten the life of one child over another? It’s barbaric and so…awful. My heart breaks for Alfie as he trudges back to the swings, shoving the gun into the top of his trousers as though it’s something he handles every day.
“You didn’t see any of that,” he tells me with a cold, hard edge to his voice that fills me with pity for him. “You didn’t hear any of it.”
“Alfie—”
“Listen to me, Eve!”
The use of my name is sobering. Alfie always calls me Evie or Cinders because I’m always running to keep up with time. Like Cinderella running to keep up with the magic, he told me once.
“You can get into so much trouble if the police catch you with that.”
“Better in the nick than in a grave. Don’t you think?” That overwhelmed glint in his eyes darkens, and I realise that it’s not sadness. It’s pressure. “I better get the princess upstairs.”
I walk back to our block with him. We’re silent for the most part until we reach their landing, and he sends his sister inside to his mum.
“Let me know if you need a ride later, yeah?” He gives me one of his devilish grins as he adds, “Of any kind.”
“Alfie—”
“You didn’t see. You don’t know.” Before I can say anything else, he goes inside and closes the door before I can give him his funeral book.
There’s an unsettling chill in my bones when I walk away that I can’t shake no matter what I do. And I know if I try to talk to Henry about it, he’ll freak out and have Andrew following me around again. I don’t know what I’m going to do just yet, but I’ll figure it out later.
* * *
“Please, don’t leave me?” I beg under my breath when Princess Madeline suggests Henry joins the men to smoke and gossip like old women.
The music is loud enough that she can’t hear me, but I think she knows I’m terrified of being left on my own because her arm links with mine, and she whispers in my ear, “Don’t worry, there’s no vipers at this party.”
Something tells me that’s not true. It feels like every set of eyes in here is on me. Even with the masks on, it’s obvious everyone knows who is who. It’s like a sixth sense that comes with money and title.
“Shouldn’t you be mingling with your guests?” he laughs at the face she pulls when an older woman greets her with a curtsey. “They’ll be calling you a terrible host tomorrow.”
“If the champagne keeps flowing, no one will notice.” Madeline winks.
Unfortunately for her, everyone notices her in her Victorian ball gown. The lilac ombre silk has the most gorgeous lustre. The gold thread embroidery, along with the pearl-and-crystal detailing, is unlike anything I’ve ever seen. There isn’t a male set of eyes in the ballroom that doesn’t stop to admire her.
“Unfortunately, I have no interest in socialising tonight,” Henry tells her.
A long huff pushes through her pink lips in a dramatic raspberry. “Or any other night.”
“Go. Socialise. Enjoy the party, and make sure you get that father-and-daughter dance you’re always looking for at these things.” With a tug of one of her ringlets, he gives her a big grin. “Happy birthday, Debbie Kerr.”
“Thanks…who are you dressed up as?” She looks between us.
“Guests,” Henry tells her with a flick to her nose before he guides us towards the bar.
“I’ll see you both on the dance floor,” Madeline yells after us.
Not likely, I think at the same time as Henry chuckles, “Maybe not.”
This new page we’ve found ourselves on is like kismet. We’re finding a normal between us that feels all too good. As we sidle up to the bar, Henry takes my hand, spinning me so that the mermaid tail of my black velvet dress flares around my legs. His hand flattens to my back as he pulls me into him.
