with that soft expression, she thought.
Luckily for her, he chose the latter option. She took a deep breath, glanced back at her sister, and then asked outright, ‘Lance, are you our father?’
Poppy looked down, embarrassed, wishing the floor would swallow her up.
However, Brooke stared directly into his eyes. It was most unlike her. She was the shy one – normally.
His huge, broad shoulders relaxed, and he took a seat at the table. ‘Only a DNA can confirm it either way.’
‘I can sense a “but” in there, Lance,’ said Brooke, eager for him to continue, as she too sat down at the table.
He looked from one girl to the other. ‘You could be. I believe your mother lied about your due dates, and you both look so much like my sister. She had the same eyes, and I’ve no need to tell you that, if you’ve been looking through the album.’
Brooke looked at Poppy’s gaping mouth and grasped her sister’s hand. This was so unbelievable.
‘So, what will all this mean, Lance? I mean, like, between us?’
Lance unexpectedly grabbed her hand. ‘I don’t know, Brooke, but what I do know is this. I lost Kendall, although she actually wasn’t my own flesh and blood. I discovered that eventually. But I loved her all the same. I hate to say this, but your mother wasn’t as sweet and innocent as she made out. And, by the way, I heard she’s been arrested for running you down, Poppy. Nevertheless, I need you two as far away as possible because something pretty serious has happened. I don’t want you both in the way. Luckily, I managed to find your passports.’
Brooke knew he had changed the subject deliberately, but like a dog with a bone, she pressed him again. ‘Lance, please, before we go, what do you want to do? I mean, a DNA or …?’
Lance smiled and shook his head. ‘The truth is …’
Poppy suddenly noticed his little finger was bent. Her heart raced as she looked at her own and then at Brooke’s. They all had the same condition. Without rationalizing it first, she blurted out, ‘Lance, you are our father. I know that now for a fact.’
Lance frowned. ‘How?’
Poppy slid her trembling hand across the table and tapped his crooked finger. ‘Look! We have the same condition. It’s hereditary, so I think we can safely say that you’re our father.’
Brooke was suddenly beaming with excitement. ‘Oh my God, you’re our dad, our real dad, then!’
Totally out of the blue, Brooke leaped from her seat and flung her arms around his neck. ‘I knew it, I just knew it.’ Her excitement brought tears to her eyes.
It suddenly hit Lance that it was one thing saying they were his daughters, but it was quite another dealing with the emotion and now the responsibility. However, he was unexpectedly gripped by a warm feeling – a new sensation. His years of combat had made him cold and heartless, but the look on his girls’ faces stirred another emotion.
Out of character, he turned to Poppy and held out his arms for her to do the same. She hesitated at first, but once those huge arms pulled her into his chest, she also felt a great comfort.
The revelations and reactions from the trio were halted as Arty and Liam entered the room. Arty looked a little uncomfortable, almost sheepish, since Lance was such a big, stern man, and his expression gave nothing away.
‘My dad called. I think we’re going to Spain … all of us.’
Lance straightened up and nodded. ‘Yeah, that’s right. We just need you guys to be away until we get something sorted out. I know, Arty, that it’s not your responsibility to look out for my girls but …’
‘Lance, we will anyway, take my word. We’ll look after them.’
Liam pushed his way into the room. ‘Yeah, mate, we’ll take care of ’em.’ Then he looked over at Poppy and winked.
Lance rolled his eyes. ‘Christ, you’re so much like your father, Liam. What I mean is, make sure no harm comes to them.’
Liam was nodding as if his head would fall off. ‘I know what you mean, Lance. But I ain’t what you think. I wouldn’t take advantage, would I, Arty? I ain’t like that.’
‘He’s right, Lance. We’ve been brought up to be respectful.’
‘Sorry, lads. Yeah, I know your fathers, and I know if you’re half the men they are, then my girls are in safe hands.’
A car horn sounded.
‘Willie’s here already. Right, lads, you go with him, and I’ll take the girls. We’ll meet you at the airport in an hour.’
Liam wasted no time in kissing Poppy on the forehead, and Arty kissed Brooke on the cheek.
Once they were out of sight, Lance turned to his daughters. ‘So I guess they will look after you then? Do I detect more than a friendship going on?’
Poppy blushed. ‘No, Lan … I mean, do we call you … I mean, can we call you Dad?’
Lance squeezed her shoulder. ‘Baby, you can call me whatever you like, but Dad sounds good.’
She blushed again. ‘Dad, we are just friends, for now. They are good men. I feel safe with them.’
He chuckled. ‘A bit different, I guess, from your mother’s friends.’
Brooke laughed. ‘Worlds apart, Dad. But you know what? I hated Mother’s way of life. It was so stilted and cold, and as for Alastair, well, he was like a passing shadow. I always wondered why he wasn’t like my friends’ fathers. Still, I am sure he won’t miss us.’
Lance gave a fake smile. Inside, he was reliving the moment when the acid was poured over Alastair and the painful, ugly way in which he was killed. How was he going to explain what had happened to him?
‘Come on. Let’s get going, girls. We can’t waste any more time.’
* * *
Willie drove more rationally than usual. He didn’t want to attract any attention. Arriving at Arty’s house, he instructed him to grab his passport and not fanny around. They would be given enough money to buy a wardrobe of clothes once they reached Spain. Arty did as he was told and was back in the car in record time.
As they approached his ex-wife’s house, Willie was so intent on getting the lads to the airport that he wasn’t aware of a black BMW parked across the street. Inside, a man wearing a dark hoodie was watching them.
The thought of the previous night’s events still trickled through Willie’s brain. If Torvic were to capture any one of the lads, there would be carnage. He had to keep his mind on track. He’d never before felt fear, and now it was beating him over the head and causing waves of nausea to engulf his body.
Liam was his mini-me, the be-all and end-all of his life. As he watched his son skip towards the car with his hair messily blowing in the wind, his heart ached. If only Liam had taken on his mother’s looks instead of being cursed with
