Barely Legal

Part 4

I'm sitting here sobbing. My face is blotchy and red. My nose is running. I'm still in the blood splattered dress with bare, cut feet. Maxwell just regards me with his eyes. He makes no gestures to comfort me and I realise I must look like a complete and utter idiot and the furthest thing from a vampire. Oh god, kill me now. I instantly sober. My tears slow and then stop.

"Can I please have a tissue?" I say when my breathing has slowed.

He tilts his head and looks straight at the wall. A small section of wood moves aside and an incredibly small older man in a penguin suit comes scuttling out with a box of tissues. He places them into Maxwell's now outstretched hand and runs back to the wood as if he only wishes to hide.

Maxwell appears in thought before pushing the tissues across the table towards me.

"Here,"he offers, "get your face cleared up and I'll take you to your room. That's enough questions for tonight."

I wipe my face with the super-soft velvety tissue and crumple the ball into my hand before putting he box on the table on the side. Maxwell walks to the door and I follow. I won't lie I'm staring at his as he leads me through the house and up two flights of stairs and numerous hallways until I'm pretty sure we're as high and as far as I can go without being in a hot air balloon tethered to the roof. Inside is a luxurious attic bedroom, a lot larger than it looks outside. There are two stern looking gentleman on either side of the room pulling across heavy curtains, that from the glimpse I got hide steel shutters.

"Do they really have to stay IN here all night?" I question Maxwell.

"Of course not. They'll be just outside the door all night" he returns.

"Well am I a prisoner? Do I truly need two guards?" I retort.

Maxwell shakes his head, "Orders I'm afraid. Until your story is proven to be true you will be guarded. The House of Stafford is the leading house. We can take no risks at present. The times are too dangerous, the future too unguarded".

"Poetic" I snort, "I don't suppose I can have a bed time snack".

"It's prepared already and awaiting you next to the bed. Goodnight, Evie".

With that he turns and marches straight out of the room. The two henchmen look me over and follow him out of the door. I take a second to notice my surroundings. The room is square in shape but is probably bigger than the lounge of my modest home back in the outskirts of Rugeley. The centre of the room is occupied by a king size canopied bed with soft blue voile drapes and highly police white woodwork. I'm pretty sure there are more pillows on that bed than in my local supermarket. The bed sits quite high so someone has thoughtfully added a small blue step as if to give me a leg up onto it.

I lift myself up and crawl into the centre of the bed before flopping myself onto my bottom, resting against all of the pillows. Finally comfortable I reach for the glass on the tall nightstand, just avoiding knocking over the glass-shaded lamp in my thirst. It feels strange to know what I am drinking but the blood is thick and red and seems just the right temperature. It appears to have lost its plasticky taste which leaves me wondering whether it is fresh.

I take another moment to admire the thick piled rug on the floor in a warm beige colour and make note of another door on the other side of the room. It is a bathroom I believe. They wouldn't trust me to walk out of the door I didn't think, I seethed. This room is probably the worlds most fancy prison. A huge wardrobe stretches the length of one wall, short bookshelves fill the space under both windows and are topped with blue and white patterned window seat cushions. I feel like I have seen everything and roll over.

I can almost feel the sun coming up. As it rises I seem to be getting sleepier and sleepier until all of a sudden I'm asleep. Just like that.

*****

"Rise and shine, sleepy head!" a loud crystal clear voice penetrates my dreams.

I grown and roll over clutching the pillow with both hands over my face. I hear a grating noise and curious open my eyes to see the shutters rolling up automatically as Bridget shoves her head in my face. I raise one eyebrow and she backs up a millimeter.

She grins, "Come on sleepy head. There's things to do, people to see, Masters to meet!".

"Masters?" I snorted, "Come on Bridget, it's 2016. But fine I'm up let me shower and change."

I climb out of the bed and pick up my trusty duffle from the corner pulling out my toiletries, joggers and a hoody. I hear a cough from the window seat that Bridget has sprawled across. I turn to see to see she is shaking her head.

"Sorry Evie, this will be a formal occasion. There's some new clothes in the wardrobe. Please at least try to look business like."

Huffing, I walk over to stand next to the mirrored wardrobe and fling open the doors. The wardrobe is full of tailored clothing. Designer tailored clothing. With tags on. And I'm not talking TopShop or even Calvin Klein. I run my fingers across the silken sleeve of a Zimmerman shirt I've coveted online. I pull it out and hang it on the edge of the door and pick out a high waisted leather skirt. I open another door and see shoes propped onto a rack. I choose a pair of Louboutins with their customary red soles and take everything to the bed placing it on carefully as if it's made of tissue paper. I've never held this much money before. 

I walk over and enter the bathroom via the door I spotted last night. I'm awestruck as I walk in. It isn't just a bathroom it is a wet room. There is a complicated panel of buttons to my left full of lovely spa settings and jets and bursts everywhere in the room. I don't care if this is my attic prison; I want to stay in this room forever. But alas, I can already hear Bridget pacing the floor and probably ruining my hardwood. If this is my room can I incorporate a no heels rule? I press the first button on the pad that has a little shower symbol and the air fills with perfumed steam and water starts cascading from the middle jets. I spot shelves in the corner filled with luxurious Phillip Kingsley haircare products and Molton Brown bodywashes. I grab a few bits and pieces and take them to the spray stripping off my by now stinking dress. I rush to get showered and wrap myself in a large white towel and step out of the bathroom. That was literally the quickest shower of my life.

I walk to the bed and realise that there are more items added to the pile. Bridget has took it upon herself to add a long thin Stella Vale Necklace, a pair of silky black thigh highs and a Veronica Beard leather look jacket to the mix. I carefully put them on along with underwear from my case and blow dry my hair and put it up into a straight high ponytail. 

"Okay," I breathe, "I'm ready."

"Finally, we're only around an hour late" Bridget laughs.

"Are you actually serious, right now? You literally came to get me half an hour ago" I squeal, "Come on let's go!"

I pull Bridget by the hand out of the door and realise that the corridor is free of guards. I also realise I have no clue where I'm going and look at Bridget sheepishly. She just laughs and takes the lead. All of the curtains are open looking out at perfectly manicured lawns and shaped trees. I bet they'd look beautiful in the daytime. 

"Where is exactly are we going, Bridget?"

"To the dining room, for breakfast silly!" her teasing attitude doesn't seem to match her formality. I can actually see myself having a friendship with this girl.