Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 157450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 787(@200wpm)___ 630(@250wpm)___ 525(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 787(@200wpm)___ 630(@250wpm)___ 525(@300wpm)
“Okay.”
I’m amazed that she’s following what I’m saying.
“Right foot back a bit, miss,” Jenkins adds.
“Okay.”
“Here are your cartridges.” I hand her two, and she loads them into the chamber and charges the gun. I stand back.
“When you’re ready, shout ‘Pull.’ Jenkins will send up one clay, and you have two chances to hit it.”
She gives me an anxious glance and mounts her gun. She looks every bit the country woman, even in her woolly hat, her cheeks rosy and her plait hanging down her back.
“Pull!” she shouts, and Jenkins releases a bird.
It sails up before us, and she fires first one, then the second shot.
And misses.
Both times.
She pouts as the clay smashes on the ground several feet away from us.
“You’ll get the hang of it. Have another go.”
A steely glint appears in her eye, and Jenkins steps forward to give her some pointers.
On the fourth clay, she hits it.
“Yes!” I shout in encouragement. She dances over to me.
“Whoa! Whoa! Barrel down!” both Jenkins and I exclaim simultaneously.
“Sorry.” She giggles and opens the gun. “Can I have another shoot?”
“Of course. We have all morning. And it’s ‘shot.’ ”
She beams at me. Her nose is pink, but her eyes are bright and lively with the thrill of a new experience. Her smile could melt the hardest of hearts, and mine fills with elation. It’s so gratifying to see her enjoying herself after all she’s been through.
* * *
Alessia and Maxim sit in the trunk of Mr. Jenkins’s car, their legs hanging over the back, sipping coffee from a thermos and eating pastries with some kind of meat inside. Alessia thinks it’s pork.
“You did well,” Maxim says. “Twenty out of forty clays isn’t bad going for a first time.”
“You did much better.”
“I’ve done this before. Many times.” He takes a sip of coffee. “Did you enjoy it?”
“Yes. I’d like to do it again. Maybe when it is not so cold.”
“I would like that.”
She smiles as her heart skips a beat. He wants to do this again, too. That’s a good sign, surely. She takes a sip of coffee.
“Ay!” She grimaces.
“What is it?”
“No sugar.”
“Is it that bad?”
She takes another cautious sip and swallows. “No. It’s not that bad.”
“Your teeth will thank you. What would you like to do now?”
“Can we walk by the sea again?”
“Sure. And then we can go for lunch.”
* * *
Jenkins returns. “The trap’s all packed, sir.”
“Great. Thanks for this morning, Jenkins.”
“It’s a pleasure, my—sir.”
“I’d like to take my guns back to the Hideout and give them a clean there.”
“Of course. You’ll find all you need in the case.”
“Excellent.”
“Good day, sir.” We shake hands. “Miss,” he says, and he touches his fingers to his cap as a slow flush spreads across his cheeks.
“Thank you, Jenkins,” Alessia says, and when she gives him a brilliant smile, his cheeks redden more. I think she has a new conquest.
“Shall we go?” I ask her.
“It is your gun?”
“Yes.”
She frowns.
“Jenkins keeps it for me. By law, it has to be locked up. We have a gun cabinet at the Hideout.”
“Oh,” she says, her confusion obvious.
“Ready?” I ask to distract her.
She nods.
“I’ll have to take this home.” I hold up the gun case. “And we can go for a walk on the beach, then somewhere nice for lunch.”
“Okay.”
I open the car door for her, and she gives me a fleeting smile as she climbs in.
That was close.
Just tell her.
Every day I don’t tell her who I am, I’m lying to her.
Fuck.
It’s as simple as that. I open the boot and place the gun case inside.
Just fucking tell her.
I get in beside her, close the car door, and glance across at her.
“Alessia—”
“Look!” she exclaims, and points through the windscreen. Before us stands a magnificent buck deer, its coat gray and long, appropriate for the winter months, its usual white spots hidden in among its fur. Where the hell did it come from? It’s less than four years old, judging by its size, but it sports an impressive set of antlers, which I know it’ll shed over the next couple of months. I wonder if it’s from the fallow deer herd we have at the Hall or if it’s wild. If it’s from the Hall, how did it get out? It peers down its imperious nose, fixing us with black eyes.
“Ua,” Alessia whispers.
“Have you ever seen a deer?” I ask.
“No.”
We stare at the beast as it flares its nostrils and sniffs the air.
“Maybe the wolves ate them all,” I whisper.
She turns to me and laughs, head back and free. It’s such an endearing sound.
I made her laugh!
In the nearby field, Jenkins starts his Land Rover, spooking the buck. It rears back, turns, and bolts over the drystone wall into some scrubland.
“I didn’t know there were wild animals in this country,” Alessia says.
“We have a few.” I start the car, feeling that the moment to tell her is lost.