Page 26 of Goodnight
Ornery
Nick growledwith irritation as the doorbell sounded again. Whoever was out there was an impatient bastard. He was not in the best of moods as it was. Goodie had taken him at his word when he said she wouldn’t have to socialize with his family if she didn’t want to. Everyone had asked after her (other than Clive, that is), but when Tilly and his mum had been about to literally search the house, he’d had to have a word. He told them she had a job to do and that she needed space to do it. He thought a strategic retreat was the best way to go, but now, after not laying eyes on her for the last ten hours, he wasn’t so sure. Nick had a sneaking suspicion that he wasn’t going to see her at all until they went back to London. So as he approached the front entrance he was already pissed off, and the fact that the doorbell sounded twice more as he crossed the large hall didn’t help.
‘How about for once you follow protocol?’ he heard Goodie’s voice say just before he was about to wrench open the front door. He stopped in his tracks and turned towards the sound, seeing her emerge from the shadows under the stairs. Instead of her usual black, she was wearing a soft cream jumper, which hung off her shoulder on one side to reveal a white vest, with a pair of faded and slightly frayed jeans. He did a double take when he looked at her feet, clad in the most incongruous items of clothing he had ever seen her wear. She had slippers on.Slippers. They were bright purple and they were fluffy. His previous annoyance was forgotten as he pressed his lips together to suppress a smile, his eyes dancing.
‘You find something to amuse you?’ Goodie asked, her arms folding over her chest. Nick shook his head but couldn’t hold back his smile any longer.
‘I –’ The doorbell pealed again, cutting him off. He sighed, back to feeling annoyed, and strode to the entrance. Glancing back at Goodie who had both eyebrows raised expectantly, he rolled his eyes and checked through the customized peephole that had been installed along with the alarm system.
‘There’s nobody there,’ he muttered, and heard Goodie start to move behind him. She might be his protection officer but there was no bloody way that she was answering this door instead of him if there was a question as to what was behind it and whether it was safe. He didn’t care what training she had, what she could do or how deadly she was; he was not letting her put herself in harm’s way for him. He wrenched open the door and stared straight forward, still seeing nothing.
‘Oi!’ Nick looked down. There was a boy standing on the stone steps. He had scruffy blonde hair and looked about nine or ten years old. ‘Took you long enough, didn’t it?’ Nick frowned down at the defiant little snot. ‘I’m Benji,’ the boy said, putting his hands on his hips and standing as straight as he could in order to gain some much needed height.
‘Right,’ Nick said slowly, crossing his own arms over his chest and assuming the most intimidating scowl he could muster (one that usually worked at board meetings or international negotiations, but which this kid was wholly unaffected by), ‘okay. I’m Mr Chambers and I’d like to know what you’re doing on my property.’
‘I know who you are,Nick,’ the child said, his confident stance not wavering for a moment. ‘Big shot, change the face of the energy industry, yada yada yada … who cares. I’m here to see Goodie.’ Nick felt the door being pulled from his grip as Goodie widened it and then ducked under his arm to squat in front of the blond kid.
‘There is a difference, Benji, between confidence and insolence,’ he heard her say; but the kid just smiled, shocking Nick by leaning forward and giving her a hug around her neck. She smoothed his hair as he pulled back, and then very briefly laid her hand over the centre of his chest and encircled his wrist with her other hand.
Nick’s mouth dropped open in shock.
‘Where are your parents?’ Goodie asked whilst she straightened to stand.
‘In the Maldives.’
‘Then who … oh,derr-mo.’*
‘I know that means shit in Russian,’ the Benji kid said through a wide grin. ‘You were the one who taught it to me that time you showed me how to throw a kni –’
Benji was cut off by Goodie’s hand over his mouth, and then she started pushing him down the steps and away from the doorway. She was focused on something out of Nick’s eye line, further up the drive. Nick of course followed her. She shot him an irritated glance and said in the most urgent tone he had ever heard from her: ‘This is none of your concern. Go back inside.’
Nick smiled at her.
‘She’s bossy,’ Benji put in helpfully. ‘But you get used to it.’ Nick then heard the crunching of the gravel and saw a small woman wearing a bright purple coat with matching stripy earmuffs and scarf making her way down the drive. She had on her hip an equally purple-clad and wrapped-up little girl. Both had dark curls in various states of disarray and both were almost startlingly pretty.
‘Benji for goodness sake,cariad,’* the woman scolded in a thick Welsh accent. ‘I cannot run all the way up the sodding drive, not with Anya on my hip, you lunatic.’ When she’d finished scowling at the child her attention was transferred to Goodie. She gave a squeal of delight on seeing her, stepping up her pace until she was toe to toe with her and could engulf her in a tight hug, toddler and all. For her part the toddler latched onto Goodie’s neck so that she was forced to take her from the smaller woman. Now that she was closer Nick could see the open buttons of her purple coat around her midsection; he was guessing she was at least five months pregnant.
‘Preeveet,* Anya,’ Goodie said through a smile.
‘Good Good Good!’ shouted the excited toddler.
Benji laughed and said something in Russian to Goodie.
‘Benji!’ the purple-clad woman said sharply, ‘I’ve told you it’s rude to speak in a language other people can’t understand. How you managed to pick up Russian at Llandough Primary and not the Welsh you’re actually taught I’ll never understand.’
‘Goodie’s teaching me.’
‘How can she teach you? You barely see her.’
‘We skype.’
‘I’m not sure you two skyping is a good idea.’ The woman narrowed her eyes at Goodie, who just shrugged.
‘I don’t encourage the boy and I haven’t taught him anything dangerous since Sarah got a little excited.’
‘Goodie, you taught a seven-year-old how to take apart and reassemble a semi-automatic weapon; you have to see why that might not have gone down well.’
‘Came in useful in the end though,’ Benji said, then muttered something under his breath in Russian to Goodie, who laughed again.
