It was all falling together for Julia, she was settling into her life in England.
She just had one more thing to do.
She was later arriving at Sommersgate than usual due to stopping by the grocery store on her way, getting steaks, potatoes and anything else she thought Douglas would like (though she had no idea of his favourite foods or if he even had any, but she felt safe as most men seemed to like steak and potatoes).
Julia had a simple plan, she was going to ask Mr. and Mrs. K to watch the kids for the night, she was going to make Douglas dinner, she was going to agree to marry him and then she was going to seduce him.
Or she might do the last two the other way around.
Julia came in the kitchen door carrying her bags and saw Mr. K at the table. He had taken to coming around during their break times every once in awhile to have a cuppa and a gab.
Upon entry, Julia offered him a smile, “Hey Mr. K.”
“Julia,” he said but didn’t meet her eyes and she had the feeling that something was terribly wrong.
She came forward and dropped her bags on the table and saw Mrs. K approaching with an already prepared cafetière of coffee.
One look at the determined set of Mrs. K’s face made Julia’s entire body tense before she asked, “Mrs. K, is something the matter?”
The older woman set the coffee down, stood back and crossed her arms on her ample bosom.
“We have to talk,” Mrs. K announced.
Julia’s heart leapt and the blood drained from her face, “Is it the children?”
“No, lass, it isn’t the children,” Mr. K assured her. “Sit down, luv,” he continued gently.
Watching Mrs. K’s curiously blank face the entire time, Julia sat on one of the benches.
“Is it Douglas?” she asked quietly, hoping he was all right. It could be him, he’d been shot, for goodness sake, anything could happen if he’d once been shot. He could have vicious, armed villains stalking him everywhere for all she knew.
“Not what you’re thinking, no,” Mrs. K said, sat down herself and prepared the coffee. “But it is him we want to talk to you about.”
Mr. K broke in. “You have to know that what we’re about to tell you could –”
“We could get sacked.” Mrs. K interrupted abruptly, finishing with the coffee.
“Wha…” Julia’s voice cracked and she cleared her throat, feeling her mouth go suddenly dry. Whatever they had to tell her had to be important. They both loved Sommersgate and she thought they would do nothing to put their places there in jeopardy. “What is it?”
Mrs. K didn’t hesitate but reached across the table and slid over two framed photographs that used to be in Julia’s room, the one of her family at Christmas and the one of her wrapped around Gavin when they were children. “Sorry, luv, I hope you don’t mind but I took these out of your room.”
Julia shook her head, indicating she didn’t mind. She also didn’t know what the photos had to do with anything. Scanning the photos she memorised, she tentatively took a sip of her coffee.
“For weeks and weeks, I’ve been searching and all I could come up with is this,” Mrs. K went on, then, she slid something that looked like a piece of paper across the table and when it was in front of Julia, she flipped it over.
It was a photograph, a formal portrait taken of the Ashtons with Monique and Maxwell and a young Douglas (who had to be the same age as Gavin in the other photo) and Tamsin (at the same age as Julia).
They all looked refined, well-bred and very serious.
What they did not look was happy.
The stark difference between Julia’s photos and Douglas’s photo was undeniable.
“What…?” Julia started to say, confusion marring her features and dread beginning to seep into her bones as she stared in fascination at the handsome but serious-looking boy who used to be Douglas.
“As long as I’ve been in this house, there has been no love here,” Mrs. K announced.
Julia’s heart clenched and she had half a mind to flee the room because she knew she didn’t want to hear what was going to come next – what she knew from piecing together memories and thoughts; what she knew of Tamsin, Douglas and Monique; what Douglas had said Christmas Eve; and what she’d been denying now for weeks.
But she had to stay, she had to know.
“You know Lady Ashton, the way she is with you and her grandchildren, she was no different to her own children, cold, uninterested, self-absorbed, sometimes cruel,” Mr. K explained and Julia shuddered at the thought of having a mother like that. Patricia might have been strict but Gavin and Julia always knew her sternness came from love.
“Mister Douglas and Miss Tammy, they were close. I was wrong earlier. There was love in this house. Miss Tamsin loved her brother. She loved him like crazy.” Mrs. K shook her head. “But it wasn’t enough. Not without a mother who cared and not with a father who abused him,” Mrs. K stated quietly.
Julia’s body jerked at the words and she felt her blood run cold.
“Abused him?” Julia’s voice was a horrified whisper. “Maxwell abused Douglas?”
She frantically tried to picture Maxwell in her mind. He was always friendly, though not overtly so. He was solicitous but not exactly kind. Douglas and he clearly did not enjoy each other’s company but they didn’t avoid one another. Julia had always thought the way Monique and Maxwell treated their children was just the reserved way of the English, titled, upper-class.
“Aye, lass,” Roddy Kilpatrick said. “We wouldn’t be telling you this if we didn’t think, well, that is to say –”
Mrs. K again butted in. “We know you care but you’re holding back. I’m sure you have your reasons, Mister Douglas seems an unfeeling man and maybe he is, though lately…”
Mrs. K trailed off and Mr. K took over. “There’s a reason for it, the way he is.” He was speaking gently, watching Julia with thoughtful, searching eyes. “And we thought you’d want to know.”
She didn’t want to know, she had to know.
Julia spoke around the lump in her throat, her voice croaky. “How did he abuse Douglas?”
The couple looked at each other and Mr. K nodded at Mrs. K to go on. “You saw it most, my love,” he prompted quietly.
When Mrs. K turned to Julia, there was wetness in her eyes and Julia’s heart went out to her at the same time she braced for what was to come.
“It isn’t something you could see, no bruises, no broken bones. In fact, I don’t think I could even explain.” Mrs. K’s hands were resting on the table and they were clenched into fists. Mr. K put his hand on one of his wife’s and squeezed. She took a shuddering breath and went on. “Mister Douglas tried so hard to be the best at everything. He never played, never sat around and watched telly, such an intense child. If he was outside with a football, it was because he was practising, driving himself to be the best he could be. If he was inside, he was studying or reading or –”