Blood Ties Read Online Free Page A
Author: Sam Hayes
it was, Robert placed a hand on her shoulder. ‘Time to leave, love.’
Erin jerked, as if she had woken from a bad dream. ‘Sorry,’ she managed. ‘I was just . . .’ She stood, ignoring Miss Aucott’s outstretched hand, and walked briskly to the door.
With a frown tugging his brow, Robert Knight led his family out of Greywood College in the belief that Ruby would be returning there on Monday in full uniform, a bag on her shoulder, her hair brushed neatly back and ready for a fresh start. He stepped out of the marble-tiled entrance hall into the sunlit afternoon, a discernible dome of summer pollution hanging over the city, and stopped for a moment to admire the two most beautiful things in his life.
‘You were fantastic,’ he said, embracing Ruby. ‘Let’s go and get a cold drink to celebrate.’ His grin, typically reluctant, somehow morphed his lawyer’s impassive expression into a mask of pride and relief. But Robert’s sudden enthusiasm wasn’t transmitted to his wife. Erin didn’t respond to his hug, neither did she seem particularly bothered that their news had been good. Better than good. Their daughter had been offered a place at one of the most desirable private schools in London. She had been saved. Erin, to Robert’s bewilderment, seemed untouched by events. He released her rigid body from his embrace and lifted her chin with his finger.
‘I have a headache, Robert. I need a strong drink.’ Erin squinted in the afternoon sun, raising her hand to her brow. ‘There’s a bar over there.’ Before Robert could reply, she darted between cars, towing Ruby by the hand.
‘That’s going to do your head a lot of good.’ Robert didn’t attempt to shout after her. He doubted, in her current mood, she would listen. Instead, he impulsively purchased a bunch of flowers from a street stall, removed his pale grey jacket and headed for the bar. He was completely unable to help the grin that took over his face and felt relieved that no one he knew was there to witness it.
He entered the bar with a patina of sweat coating his face and neck. The cloying, exhaust-sodden air outside was replaced by crisp air conditioning hung with a trace of beer and smoke. He took his jacket off his shoulder and laid it over a stool, placing the flowers carefully on top. Erin and Ruby were already seated in a quiet booth. He ordered the drinks and studied his family, struck as he often was by their sudden presence in his life. Where had they come from?
Ruby was animated, her movements jerky, as if her spirit had just doubled in size. Her soul seemed to be bursting from her skin, fuelled, Robert knew, by the prospect of starting at Greywood. He refused, however, to allow the small wave of guilt that occasionally rose in his craw to swell out of proportion. It would be too easy to blame himself, he thought, for not having sent her to a school like Greywood sooner, what with her exceptional musical talent and difficulties at her current school. A simple reminder that she wasn’t his real daughter, not his flesh and blood anyway, vindicated his hands-off approach thus far. After just six months as acting parent and only eight weeks as her official stepfather, he didn’t yet feel he had the right, or the experience, to interfere in the way Erin handled her daughter.
Robert gave the barman a twenty and caught sight of Ruby in the mirrored wall behind the optics. Already, she was becoming more than flesh and blood and genes to him. She was special, skilfully doing what kids do best: wrapping emotional roots around a willing heart. Ruby was desperate for a father.
Robert pocketed his change and carried the drinks to the table, with the flowers stuffed under his arm.
‘For a clever girl,’ he said, holding out the flowers to his grinning stepdaughter. Then, ‘To Ruby and her future.’ His raised voice caused a few heads to turn their way as he passed Ruby a fruit juice cocktail and chinked her glass. He saluted Erin but
Erin jerked, as if she had woken from a bad dream. ‘Sorry,’ she managed. ‘I was just . . .’ She stood, ignoring Miss Aucott’s outstretched hand, and walked briskly to the door.
With a frown tugging his brow, Robert Knight led his family out of Greywood College in the belief that Ruby would be returning there on Monday in full uniform, a bag on her shoulder, her hair brushed neatly back and ready for a fresh start. He stepped out of the marble-tiled entrance hall into the sunlit afternoon, a discernible dome of summer pollution hanging over the city, and stopped for a moment to admire the two most beautiful things in his life.
‘You were fantastic,’ he said, embracing Ruby. ‘Let’s go and get a cold drink to celebrate.’ His grin, typically reluctant, somehow morphed his lawyer’s impassive expression into a mask of pride and relief. But Robert’s sudden enthusiasm wasn’t transmitted to his wife. Erin didn’t respond to his hug, neither did she seem particularly bothered that their news had been good. Better than good. Their daughter had been offered a place at one of the most desirable private schools in London. She had been saved. Erin, to Robert’s bewilderment, seemed untouched by events. He released her rigid body from his embrace and lifted her chin with his finger.
‘I have a headache, Robert. I need a strong drink.’ Erin squinted in the afternoon sun, raising her hand to her brow. ‘There’s a bar over there.’ Before Robert could reply, she darted between cars, towing Ruby by the hand.
‘That’s going to do your head a lot of good.’ Robert didn’t attempt to shout after her. He doubted, in her current mood, she would listen. Instead, he impulsively purchased a bunch of flowers from a street stall, removed his pale grey jacket and headed for the bar. He was completely unable to help the grin that took over his face and felt relieved that no one he knew was there to witness it.
He entered the bar with a patina of sweat coating his face and neck. The cloying, exhaust-sodden air outside was replaced by crisp air conditioning hung with a trace of beer and smoke. He took his jacket off his shoulder and laid it over a stool, placing the flowers carefully on top. Erin and Ruby were already seated in a quiet booth. He ordered the drinks and studied his family, struck as he often was by their sudden presence in his life. Where had they come from?
Ruby was animated, her movements jerky, as if her spirit had just doubled in size. Her soul seemed to be bursting from her skin, fuelled, Robert knew, by the prospect of starting at Greywood. He refused, however, to allow the small wave of guilt that occasionally rose in his craw to swell out of proportion. It would be too easy to blame himself, he thought, for not having sent her to a school like Greywood sooner, what with her exceptional musical talent and difficulties at her current school. A simple reminder that she wasn’t his real daughter, not his flesh and blood anyway, vindicated his hands-off approach thus far. After just six months as acting parent and only eight weeks as her official stepfather, he didn’t yet feel he had the right, or the experience, to interfere in the way Erin handled her daughter.
Robert gave the barman a twenty and caught sight of Ruby in the mirrored wall behind the optics. Already, she was becoming more than flesh and blood and genes to him. She was special, skilfully doing what kids do best: wrapping emotional roots around a willing heart. Ruby was desperate for a father.
Robert pocketed his change and carried the drinks to the table, with the flowers stuffed under his arm.
‘For a clever girl,’ he said, holding out the flowers to his grinning stepdaughter. Then, ‘To Ruby and her future.’ His raised voice caused a few heads to turn their way as he passed Ruby a fruit juice cocktail and chinked her glass. He saluted Erin but