Page 27 of The Bodyguard

“You look beautiful!” My mother claps a hand to her chest and takes a step back, indicating to me with her other hand to spin around, which is quite difficult in the heels I’m wearing. “I thought it was a bold choice of yours, going for a jumpsuit rather than a dress, but it looks perfect on you.”

To be honest, there had been a rather gorgeous, deep red, knee-length dress with matching ankle boots that had caught my eye, but I have this habit of wanting to push boundaries, sometimes, even if it’s something as simple as choosing an outfit for an important charity dinner. That’s why I chose this black, one-shoulder, wide-leg, belted jumpsuit and silver strappy heels. And although I wouldn’t say it looks perfect on me – nothing’s perfect, ever – I’d say it looks pretty damn good.Ilook pretty damn good. My long, dark hair is pulled to one side, hanging in loose curls over one shoulder, and my make-up’s all smoky eyes, pale lipstick, and just a hint of pink blush. I’m happy with how I look, there’s a lot of Mum in me. And my mother, she’s beautiful. But there are still times when I look at myself and wonder why David felt the need to stray the way he did. Wasn’t I enough for him? Was I not pretty enough? Not sexy enough? I don’t know. I doubt I’ll ever know the reason why he became the utter pig I’ll now always remember him as.

“Lena?”

I spin back around and look at my mother. “Sorry, I drifted off there for a second.”

“Are you alright, my darling?”

My mother’s tone softens, her expression one of concern. “I’m fine.”

She comes over, lays a hand on my arm, and she smiles. But the concern’s still there in her eyes. “I know that what your father’s asking you to do, with Bodie, it’s difficult to get your head around, especially coming off the back of what happened with David…”

“David’s ancient history, Mum.”

Well, notthatancient, but he’s certainly history.

“I know. I know, sweetheart, but still. This can’t be easy.”

“How do you live with all of this?” I ask, before I can stop myself, and that question causes my mother’s expression to change, she doesn’t want to go down this route; doesn’t want to answer that question, because I don’t think she can. She’s lived this life for so long, become so used to everything being Mikkel Nielsen’s wife entails, she can’t let go. Being married to a man like my father brings its own kind of power, and I’m not sure she wants to give that up.

“You have to let Bodie look after you, Lena.”

Okay. Swift change of subject there, nice aversion. And not completely unexpected.

“I know. I just don’t…”

She presses her fingers to my lips and shakes her head, and again I wonder how much she really knows. How close to the inner circle she really is. How involved she’s been all these years. Yeah, I’m beginning to realise how naïve I’ve been. How excluded I’ve allowed myself to become.

“Let Bodie do his job.”

After that recent conversation with my father I never had any intention of doing anything else, even if I still don’t like the idea of it. But as each day goes by, I’m starting to see things so very differently, and that doesn’t help ease the growing fear that’s starting to take over.

“Now, I’ve got the perfect bracelet to go with your outfit.” My mother turns around and opens a drawer full of jewellery and assorted accessories. “Here we go.” She turns back to me, reaches for my hand, and slips a coiled silver bangle over my wrist and up onto my forearm. “There. All done.”

“Hey, Mum, Dad’s looking for you.”

I spin around as my brother walks into my room. “Jesus, Ollie, have you never heard of knocking?”

“Heard of it. Rarely do it.”

Mum drops a light kiss on my cheek and positions my hair neatly over my shoulder. “We’re just trying to keep you safe, Lena. Remember that.” And then she leaves the room and heads off to see what Dad wants, so I turn my attention to Ollie.

“Are you still here?”

My brother emits a low whistle as he looks me up and down. “You really do scrub up okay, don’t you?”

I don’t respond to that, I’m too busy trying to batter down a sudden and unwelcome barrage of butterflies that seem to have taken flight in my stomach. Nerves I don’t think I have time to feel, because when I told Bodie I was scared, I meant it.

“Where’s Bodie?” I ask, picking up my clutch bag and popping my lipstick and compact into it.

“Downstairs.”

I take one final look in the mirror before heading to the door. “Come on. Let’s get this over with.”

Ollie stops me in the doorway, his hand slipping into mine. “I’m always going to be here for you, Lena. You know that, right?”

I look up into his eyes and I nod. And I’m this close to telling him how scared I really am, but I don’t want him to think I’m weak. I don’t want tobeweak, but I feel it.

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