Page 73 of The Making of Marnie Jones

***

She took her first full breath when the taxi pulled up to her father's estate on Russell Hill Road.

One of the largest estates on a street of large estates, it had no television crews in sight, and a security guard watched at the gate.

“How are you, Miss Derks?”

“I'm doing well, Carl. How are your children?” She didn’t want to chitchat, but this man had always been kind to her, especially after they recovered her, so politeness dictated she inquire after his family. Plus, he’d brought his children to play with her once. One of the few memories from her childhood she could reflect upon fondly. Of course, her father’d been out of town, and had never been informed.

“One is a pharmacist, and the younger is about to graduate with a sociology degree, whatever that means.” He nodded more formally, seeming to remember his duties. “Mr. Derks isn't home yet. Still at the office. You head on up to the house. Mrs. Grant will be tickled pink to see you.”

Said woman stood on the doorstep waiting as the taxi pulled up to the portico.

Emotion swamped Marnie.

The tall, proud woman wore her trademark black pantsuit.

As the secret weapon of the Derks estate, she was the most organized and dedicated employee Marnie’d ever met. With her gray hair pulled back into a bun, and other than a few more lines in her aristocratic face, she was just as Marnie remembered.

Marnie encouraged Olivia to step out of the car. Following behind, she made her way over to the driver's door.

The cabbie rolled down the window.

She handed him another hundred and held out a third. When the driver tried to grab it, she held it beyond his grasp. “You were never here. If the reporter finds you, tell him you drove us to the corner of Bloor and Yonge, and you saw us head for the subway. Okay?”

“Okay, crazy lady. Whatever you want.”

She handed him the third hundred.

The man pulled away quickly, sending gravel flying, as if afraid she’d change her mind.

Turning, she grabbed Olivia's hand and they made their way up the stone steps.

Mrs. Grant held the door open, and the two women entered the great hall.

“May I get you a cup of tea, Miss Laura?”

Marnie was shell-shocked, and Olivia was visibly shaken. Yet this place was as tranquil as it’d always been. “A cup of tea sounds perfect, Mrs. Grant, thank you. We’re going to freshen up.” She inclined her head to the housekeeper, and steered Olivia to the main-floor powder room. Pushing the young woman to sit on the closed toilet seat, she turned on the cold water and let it flow. She wet a washcloth and pressed it gently against Olivia's face. Panic kept her on high alert, but it waned, the adrenaline receding, and left a strange calm in its wake.

Slowly, Olivia's cheeks regained some of their color. She met Marnie's gaze. “I'm okay.”

“I know you are, sweetheart. You’re very brave.” She placed a hand on Olivia's cheek, comforted by the touch. How had things gotten this crazy? A day at the theater. One little outing… “Let's go get some of Mrs. Grant's tea.”

The two women held hands as they returned to the kitchen.

Mrs. Grant prepared a pot of tea to steep. Wordlessly, she poured two glasses of ice water and placed them in front of the women who sat at the kitchen table.

Marnie was transported back to her childhood. Her best memories were of sitting at this table watching Mrs. Grant prepare dinner.

The woman was a talented multi-tasker. She ran the estate, oversaw all members of the staff, and still found time to cook dinner each night for Marnie and Martin Derks—when he was home.

“What's for dinner?” She had no illusions Mrs. Grant wouldn’t insist on them dining there.

“Roast.” Mrs. Grant poured the tea. “Your father will be here in about twenty minutes, and then we'll eat.”

Sothatwas the way it was going to be tonight. No eating in the kitchen before her father came home. No repeating her beloved childhood ritual. She’d be expected to eat in the dining room as an adult. Poor Olivia, the young woman had no idea what she was about to experience. Marnie was powerless to prevent this. She’d brought Olivia here, and the young woman would have to suffer the consequences along with Marnie.

Olivia sipped her tea. “Should we call Jake?”

---