Breaking Mr Walker

Chapter 2: Overcome Everything

Felicity

I hear a knock on my door and a loud throat being cleared as the door creaks. Nolan? I rub my eyes, sitting up. My phone has died. I look at my watch and see it's half-eight. The sound of another knock is followed by my door being opened about half of the way, to a 45-degree angle.

"Miss Baker, you're requested at breakfast." Hamish says, purposefully looking away from my direction.

"Thanks Hamish. Where's Nolan? You didn't wake me." I say, getting out of bed and putting on my fluffy synthetic dressing gown and matching slippers.

"He didn't make himself known here last night, miss." Hamish responds, holding the door ajar.

"What?" I shout in disbelief. Where the hell is he, then?

"Sorry miss, that's all I know." Hamish says as he's escorting me to breakfast.

The table has been laid perfectly for at least five people. I look at Father, who is already at his usual seat, shifting through the jar of codes I had given for Christmas a decade ago. Every few weeks, I replace the notes and depending on my mood, on that particular day, they'd either be all full of innuendos, sarcasm, love quotes or a mixture of everything.

"Good morning, Felicity."

"Are we expecting guests?" I splay my hands at the feast that has been laid out before me, just as I'm greeted by Butch and Knight.

"No. This is for you." Father says, replacing a chit from the jar with his morning paper. "Good morning, Felicity." He repeats, this time with a bit more force.

"Good morning, Father." I sigh, rolling my eyes, as I look over at my two best buddies. I pick out a couple pieces of bacon as they lay down between Father and my seats. I toss the two Rottweilers a piece each. "Good boys."

"How many times, Felicity? Do not feed them in the dining hall." Father glowers at me as he pops his head over the paper. "Hamish, Griffin, your discharge is at nine o'clock. Felicity, just so you know, Corey will be assigned to you for the rest of today. He's going to be with you until tomorrow morning. I'll call him with the code. Which is..." Father has folded the newspaper he was reading, and places it beside his iPad. Glancing at the chit from my jar, he starts to read it, word for word, sighing and quite possibly having a mental breakdown after each word. "Red lolly, yellow lorry, red lorry, yellow lolly, lolly lorry, lorry lolly, lorry lolly, lolly lorry. Felicity Baker."

I try my hardest to control my giggling and glance at Hamish and Griffin who are unsurprisingly non-responsive. "Thanks, Father." I stifle my laugh. That one is hilarious. Even I struggled to say it out loud. "Who's Corey?"

Father sighs then looks at me squarely, a small almost unnoticeable shake of his head, disapprovingly. "How on earth is anyone remembering this, Felicity?"

I ignore his condemnation and speak with more seriousness. "Hamish said Nolan didn't come here last night."

"That's correct." Father says, dismissively. "This code needs to be changed. For my sake, Felicity, no more of this rubbish. Additionally, I've seen the news on social media about this Simon chap who kissed you last night. He's been slapped with a restraining order and will be tried for sexual harassment."

"What? No! That's ridiculous. It was a New Year's Eve party. Everyone was kissing. He was my date." I say, although, I'm not sure why I'm trying to defend Simon Never-Gonna-See-Again.

"That's not what Nolan told me." Father says, now scrolling through worldwide news articles on his iPad.

"You spoke to Nolan? What did he say? Where is he?" I ask.

"Yes, I spoke to him in the early hours. He said the chap pulled you back when you were walking away and had already told him that you wanted to leave and then he kissed you forcefully and didn't get off of you until you pushed him off. That sounds like sexual harassment to Nolan and me." Father says, sticking his fork into his pancakes. "Oh, and something about calling you Fee-fee. But that's between Nolan, the chap and you."

I sigh. Nolan knows I hate being called Fee-fee. I used to be bullied in school and Nolan was always there, keeping an eye on me in class, at the playground and while walking home with me. He held my hand and promised that I could overcome anything. He was wrong about the everything bit. But he was right about being able to get over the bullying. It hadn't been more than a day before the girls that used to call me Fee-fee the free-bee facility stopped and started apologising. Never was I ever bullied for my name again.

"Father, where is Nolan?" I ask, my voice as stern as it could get.

"He's taken my private jet to Scotland. He will be away for the next three days." Father says.

"So that's why I'm stuck here?" I push away the plate of delicious blueberry pancakes drizzled with a substantial amount of maple syrup as I stand up and excuse myself to my room.

Hamish follows like a dog on a leash. I am angry. How could Nolan break rule number one? Going anywhere without telling me?

I don't get far from the dining hall when my stomach starts rumbling. I pull at my hair in frustration, turning back to return for breakfast. I put aside my arrogance, momentarily, and walk back into the dining hall, taking my seat and pulling my plate back.

I eat all five of my pancakes. I then top up my breakfast with two cinnamon rolls and a helping of summer berries, which have clearly been imported from somewhere.

"Happy New Year, Felicity." Father says, kissing me on the top of my head and excusing himself.

"Happy New Year, Father." I mock.

Once he leaves, I ask Hamish and Griffin to join me. They don't. So, I stand up and threaten them that I won't finish eating unless they have breakfast with me. As far as I know, they have been up all night, or at the very least, have been taking turns watching my door. They need sustenance in the form of warm, tasty, sugar-filled carbs. My stubbornness works and both of them pick up a grilled cheese sandwich. I follow their example and take one for myself. Why they need to be on guard within Baker Manor is beyond me. Apparently, Father only trusts me around one person.

***

I go up to find my suitcase opened on the ottoman at the bottom of my bed. A couple of jeans and t-shirts have been folded and placed beside the case. An evening gown hangs on the dress rack by the tall mirror outside my walk-in wardrobe. "Am I expected to wear this?" I shout out.

"May I enter, Miss Baker?" Hamish asks, cautiously, through the cracked door.

"Yes." I bark. My frustration is directed at my father and sadly, Hamish is having to take the brunt of it.

"Sorry, Miss Baker. Yes, that's what Mr Baker has asked you to wear this evening. I believe Corey will be escorting you down in that for dinner." Hamish explains in a soft voice, keeping his eyes down.

"Sorry. I wasn't shouting at you, Hamish."

I look at the dress. A bright red evening gown that would look good on any model. Just, I'm not a model. I'm a size 14, podgy, unattractive 24-year-old, who still bites her nails and has to have at least one grown man follow her around the world in case she gets kidnapped again. Who'd even want to kidnap me now? No one, unless they hold a specific grudge against my father or want to blackmail him for his money in exchange for his only daughter.