Page 53 of The Bargain

“This smells divine.” I wanted to change the subject. Thinking of losing Timmy and all the deceptions I'd created in an attempt to keep him was taking a toll on me.

“You said you'd had a French stew a long time ago and you thought it was divine. I suspect it was beef bourguignon, so I’m making it for dinner.”

My heart squeezed in my chest. I looked up, blinking back tears. If only she knew how much that meant to me, especially today. It was such a Dee thing to do and Mrs. James had made this house so warm and welcoming to me. I secretly pretended she was my mother. How sad was that?

"I can’t wait," I replied emotionally. “Well, I'm taking Timmy by the pond for a while,” I added quickly, turning toward the door so she could not see how crazy I was, crying because she was cooking something for me.

“Okay. I'll have lunch brought to you there.”

“No, it’s okay. You don’t have to.”

She laughed. “I know I don’t, but I want to. It’s so warm today and nice. Enjoy it while you can.”

I knew she'd meant that the weather was so fickle in the spring that it could drop twenty degrees overnight, but I couldn't help but hear the secret meaning - one way or another, my days here were numbered. And whilst I should be looking forward to it, to leaving this cold, empty, unfeeling house, I knew I’d miss it dearly.

I settled the blanket under a tree by the pond and sat down before setting Timmy on the blanket.

I kicked off my shoes and wiggled my toes, which were currently painted in red. I enjoyed the warm breeze on my bare legs and feet.

After giving Timmy his teething keys, I watched him chew for a couple of minutes before concentrating on my surroundings.

I enjoyed watching the light, soothing rumples the breeze caused on the surface of the pond. The cherry blossoms above me moved softly, filling the air with its lovely smell.

Mrs. James had told me that Dean never went into the gardens, never enjoyed the treasure he had. I guess it was true what they said: You don’t know what you have until you lose it.

Or if you've never had it.

I closed my eyes and tilted my head up, enjoying the sun on my face as I inhaled deeply. The unique scent of cherry blossoms, which could only be described as having very faint and sheer lilac and rose qualities accented with a creamy vanilla and soft, almond-like aroma, filled my lungs.

I was pleased that Mrs. James was doing that French beef for me. It would help associate that amazing food with something other than what the original meal reminded me of.

The first time I'd had beef bourguignon was a couple of months after I’d moved in with Opal. I was only eleven, but even at that age, I hadn't been completely naive, not with the life I'd already led.

She’d taken me to a big house, saying that I didn't have to say or do anything, just watch. I had to look because she’d been paid extra for her baby sister to watch and that I owed her for taking me away.

A man with a mask had opened the door and grinned down at me, extending a thick envelope to my sister.

He'd spoken with an accent, which I'd realized much later was French. He'd complimented my sister for the spectator she'd brought.

We'd walked into a big dining room decorated with dark woods. The man had then taken my hand and made me sit in front of a plate filled with the best smelling stew I'd ever smelled.

“Eat and look child. Keep your eyes on your sister at all times. Do you understand?” he'd asked.

“Yes,” I'd whispered, not really knowing what I would be looking at.

My sister had smiled before sniffing some white powder the man had given her.

Then a couple of other masked men had entered the room and all three of them had undressed my sister and then themselves. They'd filled every hole she had without much consideration for her.

I’d hated watching, but every time I'd looked down, either the man or my sister would shout at me to keep watching. So I had. And every passing moment, I'd lost a bit more of my innocence, especially once the man who'd opened the door joined in. His eyes had stayed on me, unwavering. I'd understood despite my young age that he wished that it was me he was using and abusing… not her.

I shivered at the horrible memory as a shadow loomed over me.

I opened my eyes to see Dean looking at me. He was dressed in an impeccable dark-blue three-piece suit, light-blue tie, and shiny Oxford shoes. It was such a weird contrast to the wooden picnic basket in his hand and the blanket on his arm.

“Yes?” I asked with uncertainty. Him being here couldn’t have been an accident. He never came into the gardens and he was avoiding me like the plague. I shouldn't have been happy to see him standing there and yet, my stomach flipped with excitation.

“Mrs. James thought you might enjoy a picnic. She asked if I could bring it out to you.” His eyes trailed down my legs to my bare feet. My skin heated under his slow gaze.

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