VOLKO

Chapter Five

The next morning I woke with the sense that today was going to be better than the one before. At eight in the morning I knew Jake wouldn't be awake for at least another four hours. We'd planned breakfast many times on his trips over from the states and he cancelled every one of them three hours after the event was meant to take place.

The middle July weather was perfect. Sunny enough that you didn't get a chill but cold enough you could sleep at night. This morning's weather was just right, apart from the instructors shouting at the men below, it couldn't be faulted.

Scanning them all carefully I noted the absence of Dean. Did that make me happy or sad? Had I looked over them all wanting to see Dean? The idea was ridiculous, if anything avoiding him was the plan. Last night's interaction wouldn't go down well. Although Dean wasn't my enemy, I knew Jake's reaction if I were seen talking to him. Plus the bizarre feelings he provoked unsettled me. Best not to be around him if possible, particularly alone, I'd agree with myself.

Promptly I got ready for the day ahead, ensuring I wasn't wearing a white top. Despite wanting to be stubborn against Dean telling me what to do, the idea of bringing any kind of attention to myself didn't appeal. Once satisfied, I headed downstairs happy to be starting the new day on a high.

As I neared the bottom my fathers voice echoed throughout the hall. The excitement I felt about him being here quickly disappeared into the background. He was mad about something, yet the words I couldn't make out. The office door was a jar slightly.

The curious side of me couldn't resist edging closer. I knew I shouldn't. The pulsing in my ears told me as much, but I couldn't stop. This need to know and understand the family I'd never had urged me on.

A man, around fifty I estimated with random grey hairs darted about his black haired head, kneeled on the floor. The closer I got, the clearer the desperation became in the man's voice. His hands held on tightly to someone else's as he assumed to be pleading.

Again, my father's voice rang loud but too muffed to make out. Whatever he said couldn't have been good. The middle aged man cried out crushingly. It took everything I had not to rush in and help the man up.

A dreadful feeling washed over me, at the exact moment Dean's eyes connected with mine. I froze to the spot, caught eavesdropping when I definitely shouldn't. Not. Good. His eye's had such an intenseness around them I could feel my body involuntarily stepping back and away from him.

Wordlessly, Dean crossed the office, walked towards the door, his eyes on me the whole time. I expected him to say or at least gesture something in a way of telling me off - I was snooping. Instead he quietly shut the door in my face.

I hadn't been rejected. Dean had simply shut the door to ensure I didn't overhear business matters. So why did it feel like I had? Like Dean put that door there to stop me seeing my father. The idea rang stupid even in my own ears, but it still rang.

No, I'm not doing this. I'm not allowing anybody's doubts or fears to stop me from having a good time. Not even my own. I'd looked forward to this for months. I wasn't about to let Dean or Victoria make me feel pushed out.

With that in mind, I trotted happily around the house admiring the many pieces of art my father had collected. They could have all been painted by five year olds and I wouldn't have had a clue, but I stared at them with interest nonetheless. Mostly trying to figure out what attracted Robert to them.

One I found particularly unappealing. A woman dressed in only a thin piece of cloth as men around her pulled on it. She was clearly in distress about the fact that underneath she was naked - they were always naked.

I chose not to linger in that room for too long. Other rooms and more exploring called my name, and I quickly learned that not all the doors in this house led to something. Some were just empty, or half done, others wouldn't even open.