The Man In The Mirror

“You’re a fine one to talk. At least I’m around for him.” She staggered, but managed to catch herself in time. “But you’re never around for him. He needs you too, you know?”

Her war of wit was infuriating and in her present condition any rebuttal would have been a pointless exercise, but I couldn’t stop myself. “I would love to be around Zack, but as you are clearly aware, he’s terrified of me.”

“He’s not the only fucking one,” she muttered under her breath, but I’d heard it … as clear as day. A few years ago, it would have cut through my ego like a knife, but now it sifted through my consciousness like air. Inconsequential. I couldn’t give a damn what she or anyone else thought.

“Get your act together,” I said harshly. “Otherwise I’ll step in.” I whirled around to leave, but her words came after me, defiant and taunting.

“How dare you talk to me like that? I’m not your servant. I’m your wife, and the mother of your child.”

“Then behave like one. Be a mother to that poor child.”

“I have needs too,” she cried.

“I am sure your needs are being met.” My voice was cold and uncaring. The whole conversation bored me. All I wanted from her was to be a good mother to Zackary.

“What I need from you is a good fuck, but since you have relinquished even that basic duty, I’m forced to find other ways to keep myself alive. I know you saw what happened outside. Did you enjoy watching?”

I continued walking away, but at her next statement I screeched to a halt.

“I’ve hired a nanny if you care to know.”

I turned slowly to face her. “What?”

“Of course, that would get your attention,” she hurled. There was gloating triumph in her beautiful face.

“Why does Zackary need a nanny? Are you planning on going somewhere?” My voice was soft.

She raised her chin defiantly. “No, but I need the help. He’s growing, just in case you haven’t noticed. He requires more time and attention, and my life can’t continue to simply revolve around him.”

I thought of the dark-haired man with his fist inside her. “What then will your life revolve around?”

Her snort was bitter. “You’ve always been so condescending towards me. I’m nothing in your eyes, aren’t I, Mr. Gazillionaire. But you know what? You deserve the misfortune you’ve got. The only person who didn't was my father … he got the brunt of your misfortune, didn’t he? If my father saw the way you treat me now, he would turn in his grave.”

She continued her ascent up the stairs, and I let her go past me. I did not trust myself to speak. I was furious at her crass mention of Stanley. How dare she say that? He had spoilt her rotten so she never knew real love for him. He was just there to pay for everything. If he was turning in his grave it would be because of how she had turned out.

“I’ll keep myself and Zackary away from you, don’t worry,” she said. “The nanny will be here on Monday.”

“Will she be residing here?” I asked from between clenched teeth.

“Of course, but don’t worry, I’ll be sure to warn her to stay away from you. You can just relay your instructions the same way you do with me. Through your esteemed intercom service.”

“Goodnight husband,” she said sarcastically as she passed, but then she stopped when she was at the entrance of the corridor to her wing. She glanced back at me, her face sly. “I wasn't joking earlier. I am drunk enough, but I wouldn’t mind doing it once more for old time’s sake? Your chill is just what I need to put me to sleep. Anyway, don’t you want to know if your cock still works?”

Disgust pooled at the pit of my stomach. “Go to sleep, Jillian.”

The mocking expression was suddenly gone and she just looked distraught. “Brett, remember when you used to come into my room while I was sleeping and just fuck me in the dark as if I wasn’t your wife, but a total stranger. No words.”

“That was eight years ago,” I said harshly. “I was a different person then.”

“I’m sorry. I was drunk. I didn’t know what I was doing? Are you so perfect that you have never made a mistake?”

“You’re wasting your time, Jillian.”

“How many times must I say I’m sorry? I’m your wife, Brett. When are you going to treat me like I am?”

This was exactly the reason I didn’t want to have this discussion while she was drunk. It was a waste of time. “You’re my wife in name only. We have an agreement that benefits our son. The day it does not will be the day we no longer have our agreement. You do your part and I’ll do mine.”

“There’s something missing in my life, Brett. I need you.” She stood at the entrance to her wing, looking at me imploringly. At that moment, I almost pitied her. She was not happy, and no one could ever make her happy. I promised Stanley I would take care of her until my dying day and I would keep that promise, but that was all I was capable of doing.

Without another word, I turned and went to the wing opposite hers. Silently, I entered my son’s room and stood looking down at him for a long time. Memories flooded into my head. Jillian announcing she was pregnant not to me, but at a dinner party in our home. She then proceeded to get so drunk she passed out before the last guest left. The next morning, I took her to Switzerland. She hated it, but there not a drop of alcohol was available for the rest of her pregnancy. Then, that moment of watching the top of Zach’s blond head appear between Jillian’s legs and feeling for the first time in my life fear, and a new sense of vulnerability. He was so small and helpless. What if I could not protect him?

The feeling never left. I felt it even now as I stood over him. Outside the wind had picked up and it howled around the turrets of the castle.

Chapter 4

Charlotte

Though I was still very far away the castle was already visible. Like a hulking, living monster shrouded in morning mist it rose up from the ground and towered over the sleepy town in the valley below.

I stared at it in amazement. It was like looking at Saruman’s castle. In the gentle light the gray stones looked dark, and forbidding, and nothing like the fairy tale, Sleeping Beauty, type castle I had spent almost a year in. I’d loved every minute of my time there and left with a heavy heart. Compared to this castle that one looked almost fake. I could almost have believed it, if someone had said this castle was built by Numenoreans, or magical ancient men from a vanished island.

As we got closer I could see there were two walls between the outside world and the castle. The taxi stopped in front of the solid iron gateway. The driver turned towards me, his eyebrows raised. “What do you want to do, Miss?”

“Give me a minute, please,” I said and climbed out of the black cab. The morning air was fresh and cool. I stretched my stiff limbs and walked over to a panel that looked like it could be some kind of intercom system.

I pressed the button and waited. A full minute must have passed and I looked around apologetically at the taxi driver, but he seemed to be no longer as impatient as he had been while we were still in London where he busied himself with roundly cursing and swearing at anyone who caused him to lose even a second of his time. He looked as awed by our surroundings as I was. I noticed the vertical sliding wooden grille shod with iron suspended in front of a gateway. In times of war or siege it was let down to protect the gate. Its sturdy design that was meant to repel intruders, but was actually at once brutal and strangely beautiful.

Just as I was thinking of putting my finger on the button and holding it there, a thickly accented, deep voice came through the speaker. For all I knew he could have been Count Dracula’s butler.

“Yes.”

I looked up towards the camera. “Er … I’m the new nanny, Miss Charlotte Conrad.”

“Yes, you are expected. Come right up to the side of the house. There is a staff entrance there.”

A mechanical growl sounded then, and nearly pulled my soul out of me. I jerked back as the heavy gates were pulled automatically a

part. I felt a shiver go through me. It was a completely fanciful feeling, but I had the sudden and completely bizarre sensation that I wouldn’t come back out the same if I went in. Shaking my head at my own silliness, I walked quickly up to the taxi, and got in.

“Are you going to be working here, then?” the taxi driver asked as we drove through the first gatehouse.

“Yes, that’s right,” I murmured, not taking my eyes off the frightening sight of murder holes in the ceiling high above us. Hundreds of years ago heated sand, lime, or boiling water would have been poured down on the enemies who had managed to breach the first defense. They suffered the cruel death of being roasted or boiled to death inside their metal armor.

Up ahead the second set of gates were opening inwards as if by magic. Surrounded by a moat we drove up towards the castle. It was easily the most impressive building I had seen in my life.

Two thick towers rose up on either side of the drawbridge. The gothic structure with its ramparts, arrow slits, bastions, battlements, timber corbels, and strangely beautiful crenelations, made me feel as though I had gone back in time to a lost and forgotten world.