Heller's Punishment (43 page)

He groaned in
disappointment. “But I wanted to do that story. That bitch! It will
rate through the roof and she’ll come out of it looking good from
my
idea.”

“She slept with
him.”

He laughed.
“That doesn’t surprise me. She’s slept with me too.”

“Geez, you
media people!”

He rang off,
promising to keep in touch. I wished him a speedy recovery, which
was a slightly selfish desire, because then he could come back to
work and replace Mada.

I wandered down
to the office, wanting to talk to Heller about his interview and
how he thought it went, but he had someone with him. I sat on what
used to be my desk and swung my legs, chatting to Daniel and Niq,
waiting for Heller to finish his meeting. Eventually, he came out
of his office and over to me with a pleased expression.

“You look
happy,” I commented.

“I am. The
person I hired to replace you started work today,” he smiled. I
pouted back at him. He didn’t have to look so chirpy about it. “Do
you want to meet them?”

“S’pose,” I
said ungraciously, but then screamed with delight when I saw who
came out of Heller’s office. “Bickley Barnes!”

“Matilda
Chalmers!” He stood, arms open, midnight blue eyes sparkling, and I
ran to him and closed my arms around his waist. He picked me up and
swung me around, before setting me back on the floor again,
grinning at me

“I can’t
believe you’re finally here, Bick! And you look great in the
uniform. It really suits you.”

“Yep! I’ve
finally defected from Select Security. And Heller was good enough
to offer me a job. So here I am! I can’t wait to start working with
you.”

My shoulders
slumped. “You won’t believe this, but I’m not working here at the
moment.” I glanced over to where Heller stood, leaning against the
desk, arms folded, regarding us, his face wiped of expression.
“I’ve been suspended for twelve months.”

His eyebrows
pushed together as he considered this. “But you’re still here?”

“Yeah, I live
here in the building.”

“Oh, well I
might get to see you around sometime then?”

“I hope
so.”

“Okay, Matilda,
that’s enough reminiscing. Barnes has a job to go to. And you’re
not supposed to be in here, remember?”

“I know. Let’s
catch up later.” I waved at Bick as he left and scurried out of the
office myself before Heller kicked me out.

Back in my
flat, I checked my phone to find a message from Will. His wife had
been admitted to hospital for a few days as a precautionary measure
as her blood pressure was high. Did I want to ‘visit’ him tonight?
How repulsive of a man to go trawling for extramarital sex when his
pregnant wife was in hospital. His entire focus should be on her,
not me. I deleted his message without responding.

That night the
six of us settled down at Heller’s place to watch Mada’s story. It
was a complete puff piece, very positive, and she hadn’t been able
to hide the naked desire on her face as she’d interviewed Heller.
He dazzled on TV, calm, authoritative, sexy, jaw-droppingly
stunning. He watched himself with a small smile playing on his
mouth, knowing that it had been a risk that had paid off. If I’d
been watching as a member of the public, I would have been riveted
to the TV watching him. Especially with the candid footage of him
working out, his shirt off and muscles rippling. We all hooted in
laughter when we saw that. He took it good-naturedly.

“Heller, you
beefcake,” I teased. He shrugged nonchalantly, smiling.

We all cheered
when Clive appeared onscreen and strangely enough, his gruff,
intimidating demeanour didn’t come across as off-putting, but
reassuring. Mada’s shadowing of the two men was instructive and
they acquitted themselves admirably. The last shot for the story
was a pull-away shot of Mada, surrounded by gigantic
Heller’s
men, looking directly into the camera with a saucy
expression.

“Do I feel safe
with these
Heller’s
men around me? Hell, yes! But are they
safe from me? Well, that’s another story altogether.”

At the end of
the show, Mada was slipped a piece of paper. She addressed the
camera noting with raised eyebrows that the network switchboard had
gone into meltdown with people (mostly women) wanting to get their
hands on a copy of the
Heller’s
story. She reminded viewers
that it would be on the show’s website in an hour or so, but to be
patient if access was slow due to the heavy load.

And it was a
happy six people sitting in Heller’s living room that evening.

“Thank you for
organising that for me, Matilda. I think it will be very
successful,” Heller said.

And he was
right. Enquiries quadrupled over the next few weeks and confirmed
assignments tripled. Heller had to put on more men to cope with the
demand. I wasn’t sure if he was aware or not, but he’d become an
internet sensation across the globe, with millions of people
logging on to watch the story. He was besieged by the press wanting
more interviews and especially more photos, but politely declined
them all. The top modelling agency in the country repeatedly begged
him to join their books, citing at least five top advertising
campaigns for brand products they could sign him up for
immediately. He laughed out loud at that request, before throwing
it to me to read.

“I can totally
see you doing toothpaste ads, Heller,” I teased again.

“Very funny, my
sweet.” He paused. “My mother emailed me. I’ve never even given her
my email address. She saw the show. I didn’t imagine that someone
on the other side of the world would ever watch it.”

I rolled my
eyes. “It’s called the internet, Heller. You should investigate it.
It’s a great new invention that’s becoming very popular.”

He ignored me.
“She wanted to know who was the special someone in my life that I
mentioned.”

I groaned.
“Mothers! Is that all they ever think about? Mine, on the other
hand, is one hundred percent convinced that you were referring to
me. She’s been driving me crazy, emailing me pictures of wedding
dresses every day.”

“I hope you
don’t mind, but I emailed my mother a photo of us together. I told
her that I’d settled down with you. She was so happy to hear that,
she told me that she cried.”

“Heller! You
shouldn’t lie to your mother like that.” But I guess there was no
harm in an elderly lady halfway around the world looking at a
picture of me and thinking I was her son’s woman.

“It made her so
happy, Matilda, I couldn’t help it. It’s probably the first time in
my life I’ve ever made her happy. She finally believes that I could
be like other people.”

I couldn’t help
thinking that was a vain hope – he could never be like other
people.

Later, one
night as Daniel and I lounged in my flat, drinking wine, we talked
about that awful evening. He grew emotionally stronger each day,
but was melancholic, less quick to tease or smile. I didn’t think
he’d chance a relationship again. I wasn’t sure if he’d ever leave
the Warehouse again.

Hesitantly, I
asked him if he knew whether Heller had sought any revenge. He told
me the Monday after the incident, Heller burst into the
surveillance section, grabbed a terrified Anton by his shirt and
slammed him against the wall, lifting him so his feet dangled off
the ground. And he’d told Anton that he was lucky that it wasn’t
him deciding on reparations. He then dropped Anton, who crumpled to
the ground, and ordered him to leave his staff card, get out and
never return. The surveillance men had been frozen in shock, not
sure what was going on and not often exposed to Heller’s ferocious
temper.

“You didn’t
want Anton to be taught a lesson?”

“No. I actually
feel sorry for him.”

“Really? He
betrayed you and sacrificed you.”

“Think about
it, Tilly. He’s spent his whole life bowing down before that
bullying family and he’s too afraid to be proud of who he is. He’s
punished every day.”

“That’s very
humane of you, Daniel. That’s why I love you,” I said, kissing him
on the cheek.

“I learned from
you, when you insisted that Heller call the police to deal with
that woman who attacked us instead of letting him take care of her
in his own way. I never realised before that there could be another
way besides Heller’s way.”

“There’s always
another way besides . . . Heller’s way.” I leaned my head on his
shoulder. “What happened to the others?”

“Again, I heard
from Sid that Heller and Clive taught them all a lesson, one by
one.”

“He’s very
thorough.”

“He was very
angry.”

“We all were.
But that’s over now.” I smiled at him. “I’m going to have to become
involved in another ridiculous situation to take your mind off it
and give you a laugh.”

He smiled back,
the first one I’d seen for a long time. “Knowing you, that
shouldn’t take very long. But please, no more footage of your butt.
I couldn’t stand it.”

I whacked him
over the head with a cushion and he whacked me back and we happily
settled into our normal pillow-fighting routine.

A few weeks
later, Simon invited me down to The Farm for a visit. Heller
offered to drive me there and we set off early one Saturday
morning. When we bumped up the long road, the main gate was wide
open, a much more welcoming first impression than the last time I’d
been there.

The compound
had been rebuilt almost identically in the same mud brick, but the
atmosphere was poles apart. There was an unmistakable, real spirit
of camaraderie and cooperation permeating the place. The Farmers
appeared cheerful as they worked, laughing and talking. The hot box
had been demolished.

I turned to
him. “Simon, you’ve made such a difference here. Everyone looks so
happy. You’ve done a wonderful job of rebuilding your
community.”

He showed us
around, admitting that he’d thought about building separate
bedrooms, but that everyone had voted on keeping the dormitory
style of communal sleeping. I shuddered at the memory of sleeping
in that room, but noticed that at least the pubic hair blankets had
been replaced with something much softer and more comfortable.

In the kitchen,
a pretty young woman kneaded bread, looking up and smiling as we
entered the room. A faint flush infused Simon’s cheeks.

“This is
Nicola, our newest recruit. She makes the best bread you’ve ever
tasted. She’s our new cook.”

She blushed
with pleasure. “Simon’s exaggerating. It’s not that good.”

“It’s
wonderful. But let them judge for themselves,” Simon smiled at her.
“You’ll stay for lunch, won’t you?”

“Of course we
will,” I said quickly, cutting off Heller who I was pretty sure was
about to say no. I was relieved that lunch wasn’t Indeterminate
Stew, but a delicious and wholesome vegetarian pasta dish with
Nicola’s bread fresh from the oven. She seemed very sweet and
gentle, and obviously a devout believer, just the perfect type for
Simon. His eyes lingered on her frequently during the meal and I
thought he was already halfway in love with her.

As we departed,
I hugged Simon tightly and whispered in his ear, “Don’t be afraid
to love, Simon. She’s a beautiful person.”

He pulled back,
startled, before blushing and smiling. “Don’t you be afraid to love
either, Tilly.”

I smiled back
at him. “That’s exactly what I’ve decided not to be any more.”

Chapter
29

On the drive
back, Heller seemed preoccupied, but denied anything was bothering
him when I enquired.
Probably mulling over a work problem
, I
thought.

When we arrived
home, I stretched when I stepped out of the Mercedes. It was dark,
but not too late in the evening. I’d wanted to stop for dinner on
the way, but Heller insisted that we could wait a while until we
arrived home.

As I headed for
the stairs, Heller came from behind and swept me up in his
arms.

“Hey!” I
protested, laughing. “I can walk. There’s nothing wrong with
me.”

“Enjoy the
ride,” he smiled and effortlessly carried me up to his flat.

He didn’t put
me down until he opened the door to his bedroom. When my feet hit
the floor, I looked around me with a sharp intake of breath. Dim
lighting cast a romantic glow. A small table had been elegantly set
for two on one side of the room. Soft orchestral music flowed from
his stereo. The bed was sprinkled with rose petals, their heady
scent filling my nostrils. On his TV screen, a display of fireworks
was showing. I went to the table and lifted the lid of the cloche.
Lobster. A bottle of very expensive French champagne sat chilling
in an ice bucket.

“Did I forget
anything?”

I didn’t know
whether to laugh or cry. “No. It’s perfect.” I looked around again,
bringing a handful of petals to my nose. “Who did all this?”

“Daniel did, on
my very specific instructions. It was a good project for him. He
enjoyed it.” He smiled at my joy. “And Victor helped as well.”

“Oh, Victor
helped too, did he?” I laughed. It was all so wonderful.

“Come and eat,
my sweet.” He pulled back the chair for me and tucked me in, before
taking his place on the other side. We dined on a simple, but
exquisitely prepared lobster salad. Replete, we sat back and looked
at each other.

He stood and
pulled me up by my hand, gently grasping me by my upper arms. He
drew me towards him, his eyes burning with serious intent. I
swallowed nervously as I glanced up at him. My eyes felt as big as
hubcaps and my heart pounded.

“I’ve waited so
long for you, Matilda. I don’t want to wait any longer.”

“No.”

He slid his
arms around me and yanked me in crushingly tight against his hard
body, pressing his lips down on mine. His first kisses were
impatient, urgent and insistent, his tongue forcing its way into my
mouth, his hands roaming over my body hungrily, pushing me
backwards towards the bed with his body. My heart sank with
disappointment. He was going to be rough again. I tensed in
response.