Page 56 of Goodnight
‘Anyway, after all the stalker business Goodie kept an eye on me, and of course I run the –’
‘Enough,’ Goodie snapped in Russian, cutting Tasha off.
Tasha rolled her eyes. ‘What’s wrong with talking about it? How can anyone usethatinformation against you?’ she said back, also in Russian. Goodie looked away from her to the window and shifted uncomfortably on the sofa. Tasha didn’t understand, but itdidmake a difference to how people perceived her. She needed them to believe how ruthless she was. Glancing down at her leg, she sighed as she thought that maybe that wouldn’t be such an issue anymore.
‘I know about the foundation,’ Nick said quietly, in only slightly broken Russian. Goodie’s head snapped around and she looked at him with wide eyes.
‘Since when do you speak my language?’ she asked. ‘And how do you know about the foundation? There are no links back to me.’
Nick shrugged. ‘I started learning months ago after that charity dinner when I couldn’t understand you. It … annoyed me. It seemed like another way for you to keep things from me.’ (This was again spoken in Russian. He was actually pretty good, although instead of actually saying ‘charity dinner’ he’d called it a ‘free meal’, and Goodie was sure he didn’t mean to say ‘she was keeping frogs from him’).
‘Can you all bally well speak in the Queen’s,’ Bertie huffed. ‘Russian’s not really one of my strengths. Now, get me onto French and we’d be away. I mean –’
‘Ah!’ Goodie cried, unable to resist. ‘Vous parlez couramment Francais! Ou avez-vous appris?’*
‘Er … la gare est la prochaine a gauche?’*
Goodie pressed her lips together as she heard a muffled snort from Tasha, who leaned across to give Bertie a kiss on the cheek. Bertie’s frown disappeared and he blushed bright red, but managed to return the hand-squeeze.
‘Bertie, I run a foundation calledNo Strength without Heart. It helps people in cold climates with no money for energy. Funds projects to provide communities with energy, and links those that can’t afford it to the mains. I fundraise and I contribute from my modelling career, but …’ She looked across at Goodie who frowned at her and shook her head.
‘Most of the money comes from Goodie,’ Nick said, ignoring her warning glance.
‘Gosh, how did you come by all that cash?’ sweet, wonderful, naïve Bertie asked, and Goodie smiled.
‘The business I’m in can be quite lucrative.’ Her smile dropped and she frowned down at her leg. ‘Although … not recently.’ She looked up as she heard Tasha laugh.
‘I wouldn’t worry about funding,myshka,’ she said through her laughter, winking at Nick. ‘We’ve got more in the pot than ever.’
Goodie sucked in a sharp breath and looked up at Nick. He nodded once and she looked away, tucking her hair behind her ears. ‘Thank you,’ she said under her breath, and felt him squeeze her shoulders. The foundation meant everything to her.
‘Bertie?’ Nick asked, staring down at Goodie. Could you take Tasha to the kitchen, maybe get a cup of tea for her or something?’
‘Goodness, yes, of course, old boy!’ Bertie blustered, puffing his chest out like he’d just been asked to engage in mortal combat for Tasha rather than just make her a cup of tea. ‘Mrs B.’s got some ginger nuts in too,’ Bertie told Tasha, the genuine excitement in his voice (one of Bertie’s great passions, just like his cousin, was biscuits) making Tasha chuckle as he led her out of the room. Once they’d shut the door after them, Nick turned back to Goodie.
‘Are you angry?’ he asked.
Goodie cocked her head to the side and frowned. ‘Why would I be angry? You used the resources at your disposal to get the result you wanted; I do that all the time.’
‘Oh … I thought –’
‘I’m not angry but … no more. It’s dangerous what you have done. The past needs to stay in the past. The man you sent over there, the questions he asked; you put him in danger.’
‘Shit.’ Nick’s face paled. ‘I didn’t think of that.’
‘But I want to say thank you.’
‘What? Why?’
‘You’ve given me my mama back. Seeing her face, her eyes, her smile. Now I can remember. But you’ve been bringing her back to me for months, even without the photos you had found.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You look after me. Nobody since Mama has ever done that.’ Salem bumped her hand with his head as if he could actually understand her words, and she laughed. ‘Okay, big guy – nobody of the human variety, that is.’
‘Goodie, I’ve looked after you since we got you back, but before that I think we can all say you were fairly self-sufficient.’
She shook her head and Nick’s eyes widened with shock as hers filled with tears. ‘You don’t get it, do you?’ she said as one tear escaped down her cheek. ‘Asking Sam about me, wanting me to be safe, noticing my fear of confined spaces and making it so I had Salem; your patience, your kindness, coaxing me out of my self-imposed shell; the –’ she gave a small sob and he reached for her, engulfing her in his arms and pressing her face into his chest ‘– the Gogol Mogol …’ Her breath hitched again but she fought down the tears and pushed slightly away from him so she could look up at his face; she had to get everything out. ‘I don’t know why you want me. I’m not saying I understand it but … you’ve got me. You’ve brought me to life and I’m yours. I won’t leave you again unless you send me away,lyubov moya.’*
