Read The Actuary Page 5


  Chapter 5

  “What do you mean? I don’t understand.” Emma stood in front of the headmaster with a look of incredulity on her face. Nicky stopped dead in the corridor, holding Rohan’s hand as he showed him a piece of his artwork clinging to a corridor display. The males looked towards the site of the trouble and Nicky turned his body and tensed.

  “Is he shoutin’ at my mum?” he spat and Rohan shook his head.

  “No mate. Hold on. I think she’s shouting at him.”

  “My mum dun’t shout,” Nicky replied and tried to shuck Rohan’s hand.

  “Wait!” Rohan sounded irritated and Nicky squeezed his face into a scowl.

  Emma postured at the end of the corridor and saw the headmaster sweep her appearance with approval. Black hair curled down her back in sedate ringlets and her figure was still trim. Emma’s body was stiff under smart grey trousers and white blouse and her brown eyes flashed with danger. Paul Brown let his lascivious glance wander down her neat figure and Emma felt bile stir in her stomach. “We can’t afford to keep you on,” he smirked, his expression as oily as his greying hair.

  Emma took a threatening step towards him. “Is this because I knocked you back?” she hissed. “You’re firing me because I wouldn’t let you cheat on your wife with me?” Her voice climbed at the end of her sentence and Brown shot a look at Rohan and Nicky. He blanched at the sight of Rohan’s tall, muscular frame and his firm grip on Emma’s son. Realisation dawned and he took a step away from the vitriolic woman.

  “I don’t want any trouble.” He gulped. “You’re not permanent staff, so put in a timesheet for the last few weeks and I’ll pay you out as normal.”

  “You’re a disgrace of a man!” Emma raised her voice and scorn filled her eyes. “You’re a dirty, sexual harassing piece of...”

  “Problem, Em?” Rohan stood next to her suddenly and Emma halted in her tirade. Nicky clutched Rohan’s big hand and his blue eyes were wide and terrified.

  Paul Brown bent like a spindly reed in the face of Rohan’s masculinity and Emma sneered. She leaned in close to his face. “One day, you’ll bite off more than you can chew, you pathetic little man!”

  Rohan’s eyes moved from Emma to the cowed, skinny man and back again, but the headmaster cut his losses and backed away. “Off the premises, Miss Harrington, or I’ll call...someone.” He suffered a moment of confusion, knowing the police would take ages, turning up reluctantly if at all.

  Emma’s cheeks were flushed and angry, her brown eyes on fire behind her beautiful face. She turned to Rohan with disbelief. “What an ars...” She thought better of it, seeing the distress on her son’s face.

  “I don’t think I want to go into class.” Nicky’s bottom lip wobbled and the machoism disappeared like water down a drain. “What we gonna do, Mum? How we gonna eat and pay for stuff?” Panic lit in the boy’s eyes and he pressed the flat of his hand to Emma’s stomach. “Mummy?”

  “Hey, enough!” Rohan bent from the waist and scooped Nicky up into his arms. The child was too big for pick-ups but he clung to the former soldier like a drowning man to driftwood. Rohan put a firm arm around Emma’s shoulders, feeling her heave with shock. He leaned close to her ear and whispered, “Unless you want me to smack him hard enough to make his head fall off, we should probably leave.”

  Emma glanced up at the sound of small children bouncing into the building and disgorging themselves from outdoor clothing. “Hello, Miss Harrington,” they chorused as they passed her. Emma gulped and forced a smile onto her face as a boy with beautiful brown eyes and skin the colour of melted chocolate pressed a piece of paper into her hand.

  “I done this for you, Miss H. Nicky said he dun’t mind if I marry you.” The child beamed, his wide eyes searching for approval. Emma smiled, fighting tears as she patted him on his afro.

  “Bless you, Mohammed.” She smiled.

  The child glanced up at Nicky, whose face was buried in Rohan’s neck. He yanked on Nicky’s shoe. “Is this your dad?” The brown eyes roved with approval over Rohan’s impressive physique and he edged closer and yanked on Nicky’s foot again. “Share ‘im, Nick? Can he be my dad too?”

  Nicky popped out of Rohan’s neck and his face was streaked with tears. He opened his mouth and certain he was about to blurt out her unfortunate circumstances, Emma stopped the touching moment from progressing. “We’re just heading out, Mo. See you later.”

  Taking her lead, Rohan strode from the building carrying Emma’s son like an army kit bag over his shoulder, his other arm resting protectively around her. Going against the tide of people was painful for Emma. Everyone acknowledged her with a wave or a greeting. “Day off? All right for some,” one woman joked with a smile and Emma didn’t put her straight. Every single pair of eyes stared warily at Rohan and by the time they reached the peeling front door, he felt rattled.

  “I think they’ve stared holes in me!” he commented, trying to stand Nicky up on the hall floor. The child clung to his neck and refused to get down.

  “Nicky, stop!” Emma snapped. “I’ll sort it all out, don’t worry! When have you ever gone hungry?” She stalked through to the kitchen muttering, feeling upset with herself for attacking her son. He hadn’t gone hungry, but she often did. Emma flicked the kettle on to boil and leaned her backside against the work surface. She blew out slowly through pursed lips and heard Rohan whispering something to Nicky in the hall. She thought about Mohammed’s cute face and his desperation for a male role model in his life. “Is this your dad?” His question punished Emma and she shook her head and wished life had taken different turns for her. His love letter was folded in her pocket and she pulled it out and smiled at the drawing of a small brown stick man holding hands with a fat stick woman drawn in yellow. ‘Can yoo b mi wif?’ he’d written, presumably without help. Emma folded it and put it back in her pocket. “No point crying over spilt milk,” she whispered to herself, jumping as Rohan strode past her into the room. He lifted the milk carton from the windowsill and poked his nose into the hole.

  “Ugh!” He held it at arm’s length and pulled a face. “I dunno, Em. I think this could get pretty close to crying.” He tipped it down the sink, swilling it away and washing the carton out under the tap.

  “I’ll get some more after you leave,” Emma replied, knowing full well she wouldn’t have any money for another few days, not until she could get into town and sign on at the benefit office. She groaned and shook her head, feeling sick at the thought of begging for handouts once again. She heard Nicky’s footsteps clomping overhead and raised an eyebrow at Rohan in question.

  “He’s a bit upset,” Rohan commented, understatement of the year. He spun round looking for the dustbin.

  “Just leave it on the side. I’ll deal with everything once we’ve got your car back and you’re safely on your way.” Emma smiled woodenly, panicking inside, her brain doing flips and cartwheels as she tried to work out how to salvage her situation.

  Rohan walked towards the door, stopping at the last minute to enfold Emma in a tight hug. “Don’t be nice to me,” she muttered into his sweater. “It’ll make me feel worse.”

  Rohan sniffed and kissed the top of her head. “Idiot! I’ll be nice to you if I want to. You can’t stop me, dorogaya.”

  Emma pressed her face against his chest and closed her eyes. Her hands strayed to his waist and she allowed herself to fantasise about how different life could have been if Rohan hadn’t been sent to Afghanistan and she hadn’t ended up left alone with...

  “Em,” Rohan whispered. “Why did that guy fire you? Was it because he came onto you and you refused?”

  Emma nodded. “Yeah. He’s a total sleaze. You’re only safe if you’re over fifty and sometimes, not even then. He’s been working up to it for a while but then he actually tried to touch me on Friday. I told him no and at the time he seemed ok. I thought I’d got away with it. Most women just leave but a couple have been desperate enough to go there - just to keep their jobs.” She in
haled and looked around the derelict kitchen. “The question is; how desperate is that desperate?”

  “I wanted to knock him into next week!” Rohan spat and Emma grinned and squeezed herself into him closer, feeling a wave of gratitude from her toes to the top of her head.

  “Then he’d delight in having you arrested and ruining your life too. And as for complaining about him, don’t even go there. It’s been tried. His brother’s the chairman of the board of governors so nothing sticks.”

  Emma jumped at the awful banging sound coming from the front of the house, realising it was inside. She wriggled out of Rohan’s clutches and walked into the hallway. “What are you doing?” she asked Nicky, furrowing her brow as he thumped his suitcase down every single stair.

  “Movin’ out!” he said stubbornly.

  Emma’s face fell and she panicked. “No, Nicky!”

  The child ran to the top of the stairs and began the operation again, this time banging her case down every step until it got too heavy half way and he let go, watching in dismay as it plummeted to the bottom and took a dent out of the wall. “Oops!” he said, his hand over his mouth. “Sorry.”

  Emma intercepted her son half way up the staircase, pulling him down to sit on the step with her. She lowered her voice so Rohan couldn’t hear. “Nicky, we’ve nowhere to go, baby. Let Rohan leave and then I’ll try and sort this mess out. Ok?”

  Nicky shook his head with certainty. “No Mum, we’re leaving now.” As Rohan’s handsome face appeared at the bottom of the stairs, Nicky pointed at him. “We’re goin’ wiv him. He said so. I’ll just grab the sleepin’ bags and mats.” The child stood up and trotted up the stairs, leaving Emma with her head in her hands. She glared at Rohan through her fingers.

  “I can sort my own life out, thanks!” she bit and he shrugged and smiled cheekily, a cute dimple appearing on his right cheek.

  “I didn’t say you couldn’t. But I do think you need a break, even for a couple of weeks.” He jerked his head at their surroundings. “Come away from here for a little while and things will feel less...desperate.” He held his hand out towards her and Emma closed her eyes and ignored it.

  “Nicky has school,” she replied stiffly.

  “We’ll enrol him at the school near me and before you say it, I’ll pay for his uniform. It’s not a big deal there anyway. He can keep his black trousers and shoes and it’s just a royal blue jumper or sweatshirt. It won’t hurt him to be somewhere different for a while.”

  “I don’t know!” Emma sounded agonised.

  Rohan grinned as Nicky appeared at the top. He threw the sleeping bags down the stairs, remembering at the last minute that Emma was sitting half way down. “Sorry Mummy!”

  His mother shook her head from under the coverings which smelled slightly damp. She heard both males sniggering at her. Nicky’s shoes clumped down next to her and Emma felt his spindly arms around what he thought was her neck but was actually her face. “I’m taking Uncle Ro to Fat Brian’s to get his car. Then we’ll go. Everyfink’s gonna be ok, Mummy. I’ll take care of you.”

  Emma was released and Nicky thudded down the remainder of the stairs. By the time Emma fought her way out of the sleeping bags, both males were gone and the front door rocked back and forth on its hinges in the breeze. It was far too late for her to object, but her heart quivered at the thought of coming face to face with her stepmother again. She would never be safe around Alanya Harrington but worse, nor would her son. The woman would find a way to hurt them, just like all the times before.