Page 5 of The Bodyguard

I shake my head and take another sip of gin. “Where’s Dad? Weren’t you with him this afternoon?”

“I was, until around three-thirty, then he left to take care of some business in town.”

“You never did tell me what happened with the meeting you and him had with Novak’s people, on Tuesday night?”

Ollie looks at me. “You never asked.”

“I’m asking now.”

Ollie sighs and turns his head away, his hands in his pockets. He’s about to tell me jack-shit, I can tell.

“Let’s just say talks are still ongoing.”

I arch an eyebrow. “And what’sthatsupposed to mean?”

I never wanted to be kept entirely out of the loop, as far as that side of the family business was concerned. Like I said before, I think, for my own safety, and for the good of Nielsen Construction, I should at least have an idea of what’s going on. The kind of people my family are involved with. I don’t need to know every minute detail, and I’ve told my father this, countless times, but any attempts I make at trying to gain any deeper knowledge, they’re shut down in seconds. As far as he’s concerned it’s shit I don’t need to know. My job is to concentrate on Nielsen Construction, and forget about anything else, and I’m not always comfortable with that.

“It means exactly what I said. We’re still talking.”

And that’s all I’m going to get, so I drop the subject and turn my head to look out of the French doors that lead out onto a large, paved terrace with an outdoor eating area that houses my father’s prized barbecue and pizza oven. There’s a circular dining table and chairs, big enough to seat twelve, comfortable garden furniture surrounding a fair-sized fire-pit, and the summer house my mother’s been painstakingly re-decorating sits at the far end of the terrace, on the edge of a sprawling lawn that stretches as far as the eye can see with trees, flower beds and perfectly pruned shrubs dotted all around. There’s also a small playground – swings, a slide and a climbing frame – that me and Ollie used to use all the time when we were kids, although it’s been updated slightly since then. I can only imagine it’s still there because our parents are desperately clinging onto the hope that, one day, there’ll be grandchildren running around this garden. They better not be holding their breath.

It’s been a perfect, late-spring day today. I think, weather-wise, it’s going to be a nice weekend. But as evening beckons, the temperature’s bound to dip a bit, and if we’re eating outside tonight it might be worth lighting the fire-pit.

“Lena?”

Ollie’s voice startles me, and I turn my head back to look at him. “Hmm? What? Sorry, did you say something?”

“Dad wants to talk to you.”

“What about?” I knew there was a reason why I’d been all but summoned here, so it shouldn’t come as a surprise that Dad wants to speak to me. But if it’s anything to do with what Mum mentioned a few days ago, about me moving back here for a while, they can forget it. That is absolutely not happening. I don’t understand why it’s even being brought up.

“You’ll find out, when you speak to him.” Ollie digs his hands into his pockets and throws me a smile that Ithinkis supposed to reassure me. Not sure it’s working, to be honest.

He’s handsome-as-hell, my big brother. Tall, well-built, with the most beautiful deep-blue eyes, short, cropped, dark-brown hair and a slightly unruly beard that gives him something of a “bad boy” look, but he’s no boy. He’s thirty-eight-years-old, and very much one of Dad’s “soldiers”. He also has a smile that can floor a woman at fifty paces, I have no idea how or why he’s still single.

“Not even a hint?”

Ollie shakes his head and leans back against the centre island.

“Have I done something wrong?”

“I’m going to get changed.”

He starts to walk away and I pull a face and poke my tongue out at his retreating back.

“I saw that!” he says, without turning around, and I smile and top up my gin, although, I should probably take it easy. Whatever’s going on here, I think it’s best I keep a clear head. I know that from experience.

Taking my newly-refreshed gin and tonic with me, I leave the kitchen and go out onto the terrace, taking a seat on one of the cream couches that form a semi-circle around the fire-pit. It’s not lit yet, but it will be, later, once the sun’s gone down. We’re still a little way off summer, but this is England. Northern England. Even when summer does arrive warm weather isn’t guaranteed, hence the fire-pit.

“Mind if I join you?”

I look up at the sound of my father’s slightly accented voice. Mikkel Nielsen. A man as handsome as my mother is beautiful. His once-light brown hair is now tinged with flecks of gray, as is the light stubble covering his strong jaw-line. His eyes are a deep, dark blue, and he has the kind of presence that makes people sit up and take notice. But to look at him, you wouldn’t think he was a dangerous man. Outwardly he can come across as quite unassuming. And that’s how he likes it. Appearances can be deceptive, and Mikkel Nielsen, he plays on that. Uses that. But there’s no denying that him and my mother, they make one hell of an attractive couple.

“No. Of course not.”

He sits down, leaving a little bit of space between us, leans forward, and clasps his hands together between his knees. And I feel my stomach give a tiny jolt, I’m guessing here’s here for that talk, and I take a deep breath. It’s not like I didn’t know it was coming.

“I’m really pleased you decided to stay the weekend, Lena.”

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