find out what’s going on.’
She looked at Neil. ‘Look, no disrespect, but I want you to go back to Ireland with Shamus. Torvic will want to pick us off, one by one. I need you away …’ She tried to find the right words that wouldn’t insult him.
‘No!’ he said, sharply, before lowering his tone. ‘I’m your equal business partner, so this fight is just as much mine. Shamus and I will check out your restaurants. Torvic and his gang of druggies may not start with the families. He could try to destroy your businesses first.’
Zara nodded. She knew he had a valid point, which made her realize that her knowledge of Torvic’s sick acts probably only scratched the surface.
‘Fine, but never alone.’ She shot a look at Shamus, who nodded in agreement.
Arty washed his face and combed his hair. He then searched Lance’s bathroom for some hair gel. Liam stood in the doorway. ‘Fuck me, mate, this is serious shit. Me ol’ man sounded right worried.’
Arty looked at his reflection in the mirror once more and turned to face Liam. ‘I dunno what I’m gonna do, Liam. I ain’t even got a toothbrush, let alone a change of clothes. And Spain, I hate mainland Spain. They could’ve booked flights to Ibiza.’
Liam shook his head. ‘Arty, mate, you can buy as much fairy fart smellies and Hugo Boss T-shirts as ya like, once we get there. We gotta take this seriously, right? I ain’t never heard me dad talk like that before.’
Arty chewed the inside of his lip. ‘All right, mate. How are the girls doing?’
A cheeky grin slithered its way across his face. ‘Poppy’s using me as a crutch, which I kinda like. I can’t believe the bird likes me. I mean …’ He pushed Arty away from the mirror and pointed. ‘Look at that face. Who the fuck would fancy that, eh?’
Arty put his arm around Liam. ‘You ain’t so bad, Liam, mate. Stop doubting yaself.’
Liam looked Arty up and down. ‘Aw, come on, Art. You look like you’ve stepped outta an action-packed movie, but me, well, I’ve stepped outta a fucking horror film.’
Arty laughed. ‘See, bro, I may have the looks, but you have the humour.’
Liam looked again at his long, bent nose and skinny, lanky body. ‘Yeah, I guess I gotta have something, eh, ’cos that Poppy is one stunner and she likes me.’
Arty ruffled Liam’s hair. ‘Nothing to do with ya big dick, then?’
Liam giggled. ‘Nah, she ain’t met that yet. That’s gonna be a bonus.’
* * *
Poppy stared down at her cornflakes. ‘Brooke, it’s all exciting and fun, but, in reality, this is so alien to us. What the hell do we know about this way of life, and why is Lance so determined to keep us safe? He’s not even really related to us.’
Brooke, her twin sister, reached across the table and grabbed her hand. ‘You are the clever one. I thought you would have worked it out by now.’
Poppy looked up and frowned. ‘Worked what out?’
Brooke moved a loose long blonde strand from her face. ‘I think Lance is actually our real father.’
Poppy nearly choked on her cereal. ‘That’s absurd.’
‘No, it’s not. Listen. While you were in the hospital, and I was here, Lance said don’t go poking around. Well, I took a leaf out of your book and became the Secret Squirrel. I did have a good snoop and …’ She got up from her seat and wandered over to a cabinet.
‘What are you doing?’ asked Poppy.
Brooke removed an album from the top drawer. ‘Look!’ she said, returning to her seat and opening the first page. She pointed to a picture of a woman.
Poppy pulled the album closer, to get a better view, and suddenly gasped. ‘Who the hell is that? Oh, my word, she looks just like us. I mean, she could be our mother. Let’s face it, we look nothing like our mother, do we? And we certainly look nothing like Alastair.’
‘No, exactly. I looked at the other photos, and there are some with Lance and her. I think she’s his sister, which means that we could be his family.’
Poppy leaned back on her chair. ‘Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it’s wishful thinking. Perhaps we are just scrabbling around for answers. I mean, our mother is hardly the motherly type, and as for Alastair, he isn’t really the ideal parent, and both you and I came to the same conclusion. So perhaps we are purely fantasizing.’
Brooke was adamant. ‘No, Poppy, of course it’s possible. Think about it. Kendall was only a year old when we were born. Kendall was Lance’s daughter, although Mother did insist we all have the same surname. So who’s to say we weren’t his as well. Anyway, when he comes home, I am going to ask him outright …’
Poppy sighed. ‘Brooke, stop a minute. Do you really want Lance to be our father? I mean, what difference will it make now? We are grown women.’
‘He came into the bedroom last night and must have assumed we were asleep. He removed my glasses and put them on the side. I would quite like to have a real father who cares, even when I’m fifty years old. It would be kind of nice, don’t you think?’
Poppy looked at her twin sister’s sweet, childlike expression and felt sorry for her. The poor girl had been to hell and back. The rape must have been horrendous, so she could see why Brooke would want a strong man to make her feel safe and loved.
‘Yes, Brooke, you’re right. But I think, from the sound of things, we have more pressing issues, like understanding why we need to leave the bloody country. Lance has gone to the house to collect our passports. It’s all happening rather too fast for me to get my head around it all.’
Brooke placed the album back inside the drawer and joined her sister. ‘We will have Arty and Liam with us.’
Poppy smiled. ‘I guess that’s a bonus, then.’
By the time Lance arrived back home, he looked worried and had no time for any girlie dramas. He pushed the door open and marched into the dining room, ready to act like a sergeant major and kickstart the girls into gear.
‘Right, this is what’s going to happen. Firstly—’
Brooke stopped him in his tracks. She rose from her chair and stood in front of him, with her hands up, signifying that she had something to say.
He tilted his head and took a breath. Poppy noticed how his stern features softened as soon as Brooke was in his face. It was at that moment she wondered if Brooke was right about them being related.
‘Lance, may I ask you something very personal?’ said Brooke, in her sweetest voice.
Lance appeared to blush slightly, and a gentle smile crept across his face. ‘Um, like what?’
The huge serious-minded man seemed to have shifted personalities,
