‘Mother,’ Autumn said. She fixed her eyes on her and looked for some explanation to her flustered appearance.
‘Hello, darling, how are you?’ Alison asked. ‘Are you bearing up? I can’t imagine how stressed you must be feeling.’
She sat down next to her daughter, and, much to Autumn’s shock, she took hold of her hands. It was then Autumn really knew something wasn’t right. Her mother never touched her, and her hands trembled.
‘I’m fine,’ Autumn replied. ‘Well, you know, as fine as I can be under the circumstances. What about you?’ She tried to focus her gaze, make Alison look into her eyes. She wanted her mother to realize she was showing her genuine concern. This was her chance, perhaps her only chance, to come clean and open up. Perhaps she had a conscience. Perhaps she had realized what she’d done.
‘Me?’ Alison asked. ‘I’m fine. Concerned for you, of course, but what mother wouldn’t be? I hate to think of you in danger. There must be more I can do.’
Autumn looked into her mother’s eyes, and whatever was going on inside her mind, the lies were being trotted out as usual.
‘There is something you could do,’ Autumn said in no more than a whisper.
‘Get rid of the goons,’ Nathan interrupted, breaking Autumn’s concentration.
‘They have to be here, Mr Regan. They’re my security. It’s their job to protect me.’
Autumn watched as her mother reached for Autumn’s glass of wine and drank down the contents.
‘Five minutes, Mother. I want to discuss something personal. I can’t have it leaked to the press.’ If she got her mother on her own, away from work for a brief second, maybe there was a chance. Perhaps she’d do the right thing.
‘Autumn, I trust my staff, and you should, too.’ Alison’s tone was less than convincing.
‘Fine, have it your way!’
Nathan stood up, grabbed Alison, and, hauling her up off her chair, put his gun to her temple.
‘Drop your weapons and put your hands above your head, or I’ll shoot her!’ he ordered the two security officers.
There were screams from the other diners, shouts of ‘gun.’ People began to react. Some ran for the door, others slipped down low in their seats. The maître d’ reached for the phone.
‘Let her go and drop your weapon!’ one of Alison’s aides yelled in response, his gun drawn.
‘On the floor with the gun or we’ll take you out,’ the other ordered.
‘Nathan, something’s wrong. I don’t know what, but this is wrong,’ Autumn told him.
Nathan’s hand tightened around Alison’s neck. ‘We discussed this, Autumn,’ he reminded her.
‘I know but…’ She saw him hesitate, only for a moment, but that moment was there. ‘Please, Nathan, something’s different.’
‘This is ridiculous,’ Alison exclaimed. ‘I employed you! I demand you release me at once!’
‘Put the weapon down and release her! Do it now!’
‘Nathan,’ Autumn tried again.
He seemed to be thinking. When he thought, his forehead creased, his eyes narrowed, his cheek twitched. It was as if he was mulling over what she was saying to him. She didn’t know if she was right or not, but there was a feeling that, whatever her mother’s involvement in the situation, it wasn’t the whole story.
‘Listen, just stand down. I need some time,’ Alison said, her voice hoarse.
‘We can’t let you do that, Foreign Secretary.’
‘I order you to stand down. You can follow orders, can’t you? Stand down,’ Alison repeated.
The two guards looked to each other, as if wanting confirmation of what to do. Very slowly and reluctantly, they lowered their guns and replaced them in their holsters.
The initial shocked reaction from the diners had changed into a tense near-silence as every pair of eyes were trained on Autumn and Nathan’s table.
‘Nathan, please,’ Autumn begged. She looked at his hand, tight around her mother’s neck, the metal of the barrel of his gun pressed against her mother’s too-tight brow. Despite how sickened she felt about what her mother had been doing, something was telling her to give her a chance to explain. That perhaps she didn’t have a completely black soul.
‘Nathan,’ she said, this time even softer.
He turned to face her, his expression at first unreadable. Then she saw it in his eyes. Saw that flicker of belief.
He dropped his weapon. ‘Get your purse. We’re taking her back to the house.’
Twenty-Four
‘Tawanda!’ Nathan yelled as he opened the front door. He guided a pale, convulsing Alison Raine down the hall.
‘I’ll go and see where she is,’ Autumn offered, striding ahead.
‘No, you don’t! You hold up the Foreign Secretary. I’ll go.’
Alison steadied herself against the wall then doubled up and vomited on the carpet.
Autumn held on to her mother’s waist. ‘It’s okay, Mother, I’ll get you a drink in a minute,’ she said kindly.
‘It’s the car… or maybe the boat,’ Alison spluttered, trying to take a breath.
‘I know,’ Autumn answered.
Her mother suffered from terrible travel sickness, and it hadn’t helped that Nathan had driven back from the port like a lunatic. Alison looked weak, not a state Autumn was used to seeing her in, but nothing seemed usual with her. Autumn had a gut feeling, but whether that was completely correct was yet to be clarified.
‘Oh my, child!’ Tawanda rushed down the hallway and scooped Autumn up into her arms.
‘I’m fine, Tawanda. We’re fine. Tawanda, this is my mother, Alison.’
The expression on Tawanda’s face turned from one of joy that Autumn was back unharmed, to a look that could have cut stone. The woman folded her arms over her ample bosom and locked her eyes on Alison.
‘Where is Mr Nathan?’ Tawanda asked.
‘He went to look for you and check the house before we came right in.’
‘Could I have a glass of water?’ Alison croaked.
‘I will find Mr Nathan,’ Tawanda responded then disappeared up the hallway.
‘Who is that woman?’ Alison asked as she began to regain a little color.
‘She’s a friend.’
‘What is going on here, Autumn?’
‘What? You’re asking me what’s going on? Mother, Nathan is going to question you, and you need to tell him the truth, or else—’
‘Or else what?’
‘I
