Drakon (7 page)

“I want to survive. But we can't hide forever, Jonathan.”

“We can try.”

They drove all night, in a hire car rented under the assumed names. Jonathan wanted to take her to a hospital, but Andrea refused. There was no way of telling which hospital had spies working for Dr. Haroldson. Andrea didn't want to take any chances that he could find her again.

“Where are we going, Jonathan?”

“I don't know. But we can't stay in London. It's probably best if we leave the country altogether, but they'll be watching the airports for us. We'll have to go by sea. They'll probably have people covering the ports as well, but I don't think that's what they expect us to do.”

Andrea didn't care what they expected them to do; she just hoped they wouldn't be caught. It all seemed so surreal. Any moment now she would wake up in her own bed, and none of this would have happened. She would be Andrea Smith, teacher, not some member of a lost race. And she wouldn't be married to Jonathan. She wouldn't have cancer. She would never have been kidnapped.

And pigs would fly. She knew it was real. It was just so hard to accept. They made the rest of the journey in silence. Not their normal comfortable silences, one that the longer it went on, the more difficult it was to break. Andrea felt silent tears slide down her cheek, making her face sting even more. She turned away from Jonathan so that he wouldn't see, she couldn't bear his pity.

They arrived at the docks just before dawn, the sky just beginning to lighten with streaks of orange. The docks were already busy with bustling sailors. There didn't seem to be any passenger ships. From what Andrea could see, they were all carrying cargo of some sort or another. It slowly dawned on her what Jonathan had in mind. They were the cargo.

Jonathan took her arm as he helped her up the gangplank of one of the ships. The ship was filthy and full of rust. Would it even last long enough to take them where they were going? Wherever that might be.

An unkempt sailor met them on board and showed them to a dingy cabin with no window or porthole. There were two bunks with dirty mattresses, but no blankets or pillows.

“I don't feel well,” said Andrea, but she knew that lying down on the dirty bunks wouldn't make her feel any better. She hadn't felt well ever since she escaped from Haroldson's basement. What drugs had he given her?

“You should have let me take you to a hospital,” said Jonathan giving her a hug. She flinched and backed away from him.

“Andrea? What is it? Why don't you want me to touch you? Did he do something to you? Did he - did he rape you?” His voice broke on the last word.

“Is that what you want to hear, Jonathan?”

“God no! If anything like that ever happened to you...”

“What? You'd leave me? Because I was soiled goods? You wouldn't want me any more?”

“Of course not! What sort of man do you take me for?”

“That's just it, Jonathan. I don't know. Not any more” They were both silent, staring at each other. Andrea didn't know what to feel. Did she really know Jonathan? How could she know Jonathan when she didn't even know herself?

“No, Jonathan. He didn't rape me. But he did - other things.” She hoped he wouldn't want any further explanation than that. She wasn't sure she could give him one without breaking down completely. They heard the engines start up as the ship began to move slowly and noisily out of the dock. Andrea didn't feel safe. She used to feel safe with Jonathan, but not now. Not after what he'd done. Jonathan had been lying to her all along.

The journey was uneventful for the most part, but Andrea was seasick almost the entire time. She wouldn't let Jonathan comfort her, even though she knew that he wanted to. He tried to talk to her, about anything, but she just wasn't interested in anything he had to say to her now.

Why had he waited six years before telling her that she was Drakon? Had her parents been Drakon and not known it? It was possible, after all she didn't know until Jonathan had told her. But why hadn't he told her before?

The ship landed in Ireland about nine hours after it had set sail Andrea was glad to get off. She and Jonathan had been together constantly for the past few hours and she needed her own space back. She felt suffocated.

“Where are we going?” She asked Jonathan, as they made their way from the docks at Rosslare. Jonathan hired a car, but didn't speak to her until they were inside and the windows and doors safely locked.

“I have a farm.”

Andrea burst out laughing.“You have a farm? This I've got to see!”

“Why is it so surprising?”

“I just never figured you as the farming type, that's all.”

“Well, I don't actually farm it myself. I have a manager. He and his wife keep things going for me.”

“An absentee landlord?” admonished Andrea.

“Not really. It's run on a profit share basis. Angela and Pat get paid well and they also get a share of any money the farm makes. They have all the benefits of running a farm, but none of the risks. I've got all the risks.” He was quiet again, staring out at the road ahead of them.

Andrea sank back in her seat and closed her eyes. It would be dark soon and she felt so tired. The seasickness didn't seem to be clearing up now that she was off the boat. Maybe she was just worried. No one knew where they were. Her mother would be frantic. Not to mention her overprotective brother, Bill. It was best not to think of Bill. And their jobs. My God, what were they going to tell the headmaster?

She was drifting off to a sort of half sleep when Jonathan cut the engine and put on the handbrake.

“We're here,” he said quietly. As soon as they got out of the car, two dogs rushed up to greet them, yapping excitedly and trying to jump up on their chest. Andrea patted the one nearest her, feeling a lump in her throat.

Pat and Angela followed the dogs outside to see what the commotion was. It was just about dark, but Andrea could make out a very tall older man with greying hair and his arms around the shorter, rounder woman by his side. She looked homely.

“Jonathan!” Exclaimed Angela and rushed to hug him, as though he was her long lost son. Andrea had never seen Jonathan's real mother greet him with such affection, and she felt sad for him that he hadn't known that type of unconditional love from his parents. Pat hung back by the door, giving Andrea the once over.

“And who might this be?” Asked Angela, releasing a very embarrassed looking Jonathan from her embrace.

“This is Andrea, my wife,” said Jonathan and put his arms around her. Andrea didn't move away, not wanting to embarrass him in front of his friends, but she felt like a trophy, only there so that he could show her off.

“Where are my manners, come in, come in! I hope you're hungry. There's Irish stew tonight.” Angela ushered them into the house, while Pat watched silently. Andrea wondered if he could talk at all. The door led into a kitchen with a large fireplace, and around the fire were three children of various ages, playing and arguing.

“Ma, Tommy hit Kate and he pulled my hair!” The little girl looked up at her mother and her eyes went wide.

“Uncle Jonathan! Uncle Jonathan!” She shrieked delightedly and flung herself onto his legs, nearly knocking Jonathan down. Soon two other little people were upon him like miniature torpedoes, there was no way of stopping them. Three pairs of curious eyes looked from Jonathan to Andrea and she couldn't help smiling.

“I'm Andrea,” she said.

“I'm Tommy,” said the only boy.

“And I'm Catriona,” said the eldest girl, about six or seven.

“And that's Kate,” she pointed to her little sister, who had shyly buried her face against Jonathan's leg.

“Kate's the baby,” said Tommy.

“I'm not! I'm big! I'm four!”

“Now that's enough!” roared Angela. All three were quiet, as though a switch had been turned off. She turned to Jonathan and Andrea, a smile on her face.

“Why don't you two get freshened up and then we can have dinner? Jonathan will show you around,” said Angela. “Though why you didn't let us know you were coming and married! I'm disappointed in you, Jonathan,” she softened her words with a smile.

“It's complicated,” said Jonathan.

“It always is, isn't it? Now get up those stairs, there's plenty of hot water.”

“Thanks,” said Andrea, feeling as if she'd just stepped into an alternate universe and this was Jonathan's real family. Not the one where she'd had dinner with them and his mother had complained at him all night.

Jonathan led her upstairs, first to a bedroom and then showed her the bathroom. There was only one double bed in the room. She looked at it and then at Jonathan. They hadn't shared the same bed since she had escaped from Haroldson. Did Jonathan feel as uncomfortable as her?

After they'd both freshened up, they went downstairs to join the rest of the Malone clan and have dinner with them. The Irish stew was delicious. It was followed by home-made rhubarb crumble and custard, and the portions were enough to feed a small army.

The dinner over and dishes washed, Jonathan joined the children on the floor, playing a game of snakes & ladders with them. Andrea looked at him, a sad smile playing on her lips. She had never seen him this happy, this carefree. It seemed as though he belonged there, with children crowded round him, laughing at his jokes and gazing adoringly at him. She remembered how good he'd been with Amelia as well, and felt the familiar ache tug at her chest. An ache that would never be healed.

She would never get over losing her little sister.

It was soon time for the children to go to bed, but they refused to be parted from their 'uncle' Jonathan. After all, he'd only just got here and they were determined to spend every minute with him if they could.

“Will you read me a bedtime story, Uncle Jonathan?” asked Catriona.

“Me too!” piped up Tommy.

There was no request from Kate, she just sat hugging her little rag doll and staring at the fire.

“Would you like a story too?” Asked Andrea, holding out her hand. To her surprise, Kate reached out and held it firmly.

“Well, that's a first!” exclaimed Angela. “She's normally so shy with strangers.”

“She's not strange,” said Kate quietly. “She's Auntie Andrea.”

And Andrea had to admit; she liked the sound of that.

Once the children were safely tucked up and asleep, Jonathan and Andrea decided it was time for them to head for bed too. It had been a long journey and they both could do with the rest.

“Don't worry, Andrea. I'll take the floor,” he said when they were alone in the room.

“Nonsense, Jonathan! We're both two adults. We can still share the same bed. You look exhausted. You need a good night's rest, and you won't get it on the floor!”

“Yes, doctor,” he said, before heading for the bathroom. When he returned, Andrea was already in bed wearing a pair of red pyjamas and had the covers tucked up almost to her chin. She felt the bed dip as Jonathan got in, but he stayed as far away from her as possible, without actually leaving the bed. There was not an inch of their bodies touching. It was as though she was alone.

Was this what their life had become? What it was going to be? Strange beds in strange houses? Alone in strange beds? Always looking over their shoulder, trying to avoid Haroldson?

Always running but never escaping.

Jonathan fell asleep first, his breathing becoming slow and even. She wished it were as easy for her to fall asleep. It seemed hours before she finally drifted off into a fitful sleep. Something woke her before it was light, but she wasn't sure what. She lay still, listening.

Jonathan's breathing was rapid and erratic, and he began to thrash about on the bed.

“Andrea!” He screamed. A nightmare. She had her arms around him in an instant, rocking him back and forth like a child.

“Ssh, it's okay. I'm here,” she soothed, kissing his hair. His head was clasped against the valley of her breasts, then his head moved and he began to search out her left breast and began to nuzzle it through the fabric of her pyjama top. Andrea froze, what should she do? He seemed to be asleep, not aware of what he was doing, but her body was. Very, very aware. She felt an ache in the juncture of her thighs and a rush of moisture there.

She tried not to moan, but it was no use, Jonathan's mouth was causing the most delicious sensations in her, but it wasn't right. She couldn't let him continue, knowing he was asleep and might not know what he was doing.

“Jonathan,” she whispered gently.

“Huh?” He asked groggily, looking up at her. He jumped away from her as fast as he could, realization in his eyes.

“I'm sorry, Andrea. I knew we shouldn't be in the same bed.” He got off the bed and headed for the door.

“Wait,” said Andrea, louder than she intended.

“Why? So you can tell me what a pervert I am? That I can't keep my hands to myself even when I'm a sleep? I know all that already, Andrea. You don't need to tell me!”

“Jonathan, will you just listen to me for once?” Said Andrea, getting up and following him to the door. She got as close to him as she could without actually touching him. Jonathan waited, a curious look in his eyes when she didn't say anything straight away.