Chapter One
Mother’s secret
"Bridgette! Get up or you're going to be late for school" my mother said kicking the leg of my four poster bed.
I sat up, rubbing my eyes and yawning,
"What time is it?" I asked sleepily.
"Time for you to get up and get ready for school" my mother said, a smirk crossing her face.
Mother’s secret
"Bridgette! Get up or you're going to be late for school" my mother said kicking the leg of my four poster bed.
I sat up, rubbing my eyes and yawning,
"What time is it?" I asked sleepily.
"Time for you to get up and get ready for school" my mother said, a smirk crossing her face.
"Very funny mother" I stated with a smile.
After slowly dragging myself out of bed, I hugged my mother. I couldn't remember the last time she was actually home and I was glad to see her. She worked ridiculously long hours doing... well... I don't actually know. No one spoke about her job and whenever I asked about it, I'd be told "Later" or "Not right now" and my personal favourites "You wouldn't understand" and "You're too young".
"Are you working today mother?" I asked, secretly hoping for some clue as to my mother's 'job'. Or even better, that she would slip up and spill everything. Looking at her face now, I could tell that I was going to get nothing, well, except for a lecture about not "letting it go". She sighed, pushing her shoulder length curly auburn hair behind her ear,
"Bridgette, why do you have to keep asking about my work? Your father and I have told you a million times already that what I do is not important and you are too young to understand" she said crossly.
I stared at her in amazement. Again with the "You wouldn't understand" only this time she had gone the extra mile and added the "You're too young" as well.
What is it that is so bad, that they can’t tell me, instead resorting to simply treating me like a fragile little child who would shatter into one hundred pieces if I learned the truth. You'd think she worked for the mob or something illegal. Ha, maybe that's it. Maybe they don't want me to know because it's not legal. But why would my mother be mixed up in that sort of thing, more importantly, why wouldn't my father do anything about it?
Regardless of her intentions, and reasons for not telling me the truth about her job (she wouldn't even make the effort to make something up, instead she just constantly resorts to telling me nothing) and I am not going to tolerate her biting my head off for asking a question, even if she was right about my intentions behind it.
"For crying out loud mother, I was just asking if you were working today, no need to jump down my damn throat! I'm not a little kid so stop treating me like one" I yelled "I don't even care what you do anyway" I lied."It's obviously more important to you than I am!"
I regretted saying those words as soon as they'd left my mouth. I couldn't believe I was on the verge of tears and I wasn't even out of my nightgown yet.
I miss not having my mother around with her working this mystery job but when she was home, we fought more often than not. I hate fighting with her, but I hate being treated like a little kid even more.
Usually, my mother would have said something harsh and fought back, but not this time. For some reason, unknown to me, she threw her arms up and said "fine" then walked out of my room, slamming the door behind her. I jumped at the sound. Why did she back down so quickly?
I wanted to go downstairs and apologise, then quickly thought better of it. It would most definitely just start another fight, and one fight before breakfast was enough for me.
Instead I went to my oversized redwood closet that my grandfather had built for me before he died and picked out something to wear for school. I decided on a blue sweater dress and black tights. It was one of my favourite dresses because blue was my favourite colour and I looked totally hot in it. It hugged in the right places and hung loose in the right places.
I have a few small curves and a nicely developed bust and this dress just added extra. It drove the boys at school crazy. I wasn't really concerned with boys all that much but what girl don’t like to be admired.
As I slipped into the dress, I admired myself in the mirror and began doing my hair. I got my long brown locks from my father’s side of the family, thankfully. I don't really think that my mother's curls would have suited me in the slightest. I would have looked completely ridiculous, especially with my tanned skin.
My parents moved to London from my mum's hometown in Glasgow Scotland in 1991 and found out shortly after arriving here, that I was on my way into the world. My parents used to love telling the story of how they met.
My mother went on holidays with her parents to Naples and met my father at a banquet. They had dated for a little while then decided to come to London and start a life together.
They would tell me about how they quickly got tired of the city and opted for a more quiet location, which is how we ended up here in Chilwell.
It's been a long time since I have seen the glint in my father's eye as he remembered my mother down to the finest detail, or the smile on my mother’s face as she recalled his proposal for marriage and the things he would do, just to make her laugh or smile. They were so in love, but now with my mother working all the time and so many secrets surrounding her job, they were growing apart. I could tell that they tried to play the roles of happy carefree parents, for my benefit, well, when we were all together at the same time -which was hardly ever - at least but I could tell that their love was fading away.
After pulling my long, dark brown locks into a high ponytail, I headed downstairs, hoping that my mother had calmed down enough to not end up causing another argument but when I reached the kitchen, I found Missy - the housekeeper - making herself some of her special "secret eggs" for breakfast. Mr Fluffles the cat was resting on the table, but there was no sign of my mother.
I smiled politely and said good morning to Missy as I walked over to my cat and gave him a big 'good morning' scratch.
I named him Mr Fluffles, because he is a big grey fluff ball but, I love him all the same. He is my best friend - except for Charlie - and he is always there for a hug when I am feeling down after fighting with my parents. After the fight with my mother this morning, I was in need of a Mr Fluffles hug.
I was startled out of my daze, when Missy spoke. I was so wrapped up in my fight with my mother; I had completely forgotten that Missy was still in the kitchen.
Missy is in her mid 20's but looks like she could easily pull of 18. She was around 5'5" with her platinum blonde hair pulled into a braid that hung down past her shoulders. She could have easily been a model or something and lived the high society life, but after her father past away, she hid away from the world and lived on her own.
Out of respect for his friend, my father took Missy in and she quickly became a live in housekeeper. My father tried to tell her that it was not necessary, but she protested and after a while, she was left to her will. She has been with us for about 5 years now and she's become like an aunt to me.
"Would you like some breakfast Miss Collins?" Missy asked with a smile. I laughed out loud, "How many times do I have to tell you Missy, call me Bridgette. Miss Collins sounds so formal" I said.
"Sorry Miss Co... oh... I mean Bridgette" Missy said with a laugh."Would you like some breakfast? There is more than enough to feed an extra mouth"
"Yeah thanks, that would be great" I said "What's on the menu for this morning?" I asked.
"I made some of my secret eggs. They are going to be great"
"Sure" I smiled "When are you going to tell me the secret ingredient?" I asked. Missy just looked at me in amazement.
"Now now, if I told you, it wouldn't be a secret and what's the fun of secret eggs if you know the secret?" Missy said and laughed.
"OK then, so long as the secret ingredient isn't poison" I joked. Missy just laughed again. "Well, I'm going to finish getting my stuff ready for school, just call out when they are done" I said as I put Mr Fluffles on the chair and walked into the study to grab my bag for school.
While I was in the office I found the place was a bit messy, so I decided to tidy up a little while I waited for my breakfast. I was putting a book on the shelf when I felt something hit my foot. Some sort of envelope had fallen out of the book and onto the floor. Why would my parents hide an envelope in a book?
I put the book on the shelf and bent down to pick up the envelope. There was no name on it, so I opened it up. I nearly dropped it when I realised what it was. It was a cheque for my mother. The cheque itself didn't cause any alarm, however, the amount on it certainly did. It was for $125,000 and on the back it said
Maggie
Thanking you for your assistance on that assignment.
You were a big help and a true asset to The Company.
Here is your cut!"
Sincerely
Black John
Ok. So now I am left with more questions than answers and a definite fear that my mother is mixed up in some really bad business. I mean, for one, what is "The Company", what "assignment" is this person talking about and more importantly, who is "Black John" I don't know who he is but I do know he sounds like no one good. I pondered the idea of putting the cheque in my bag and taking it to show Charlie, but quickly decided against it. If this "Black Jack" character was as bad as my gut thinks and I accidentally lost the cheque, I could be in a lot of trouble. Maybe even in danger. I know it said that the cheque was my mother's but it pays to be careful.
One thing I knew for certain was that this issue wasn't going unnoticed by my mother again. This time I had questions, and next time I see her, she will be answering my questions. Some of them at least.
I was snapped out of my thoughts, when Missy popped her head in the door."Bridgette, you're breakfast is on the table for you whenever you're ready" she said.
"Thanks Missy, I'll be out in a moment". I put the cheque back in the book and put it on the shelf. If no one knew I had touched it, I doubted it was going to suddenly disappear. I put the book on the shelf where it was and grabbed my bag as I headed out the door and back into the kitchen.
Once I finished my breakfast, I thanked Missy and grabbed my bag as I headed out the door. I had to run to make it to the bus stop, as the bus was just pulling into the curb. I got on and found myself a seat near the back. The bus smelled like old socks and the trip to school took about 20 minutes but it sure beat the hell out of walking.
After slowly dragging myself out of bed, I hugged my mother. I couldn't remember the last time she was actually home and I was glad to see her. She worked ridiculously long hours doing... well... I don't actually know. No one spoke about her job and whenever I asked about it, I'd be told "Later" or "Not right now" and my personal favourites "You wouldn't understand" and "You're too young".
"Are you working today mother?" I asked, secretly hoping for some clue as to my mother's 'job'. Or even better, that she would slip up and spill everything. Looking at her face now, I could tell that I was going to get nothing, well, except for a lecture about not "letting it go". She sighed, pushing her shoulder length curly auburn hair behind her ear,
"Bridgette, why do you have to keep asking about my work? Your father and I have told you a million times already that what I do is not important and you are too young to understand" she said crossly.
I stared at her in amazement. Again with the "You wouldn't understand" only this time she had gone the extra mile and added the "You're too young" as well.
What is it that is so bad, that they can’t tell me, instead resorting to simply treating me like a fragile little child who would shatter into one hundred pieces if I learned the truth. You'd think she worked for the mob or something illegal. Ha, maybe that's it. Maybe they don't want me to know because it's not legal. But why would my mother be mixed up in that sort of thing, more importantly, why wouldn't my father do anything about it?
Regardless of her intentions, and reasons for not telling me the truth about her job (she wouldn't even make the effort to make something up, instead she just constantly resorts to telling me nothing) and I am not going to tolerate her biting my head off for asking a question, even if she was right about my intentions behind it.
"For crying out loud mother, I was just asking if you were working today, no need to jump down my damn throat! I'm not a little kid so stop treating me like one" I yelled "I don't even care what you do anyway" I lied."It's obviously more important to you than I am!"
I regretted saying those words as soon as they'd left my mouth. I couldn't believe I was on the verge of tears and I wasn't even out of my nightgown yet.
I miss not having my mother around with her working this mystery job but when she was home, we fought more often than not. I hate fighting with her, but I hate being treated like a little kid even more.
Usually, my mother would have said something harsh and fought back, but not this time. For some reason, unknown to me, she threw her arms up and said "fine" then walked out of my room, slamming the door behind her. I jumped at the sound. Why did she back down so quickly?
I wanted to go downstairs and apologise, then quickly thought better of it. It would most definitely just start another fight, and one fight before breakfast was enough for me.
Instead I went to my oversized redwood closet that my grandfather had built for me before he died and picked out something to wear for school. I decided on a blue sweater dress and black tights. It was one of my favourite dresses because blue was my favourite colour and I looked totally hot in it. It hugged in the right places and hung loose in the right places.
I have a few small curves and a nicely developed bust and this dress just added extra. It drove the boys at school crazy. I wasn't really concerned with boys all that much but what girl don’t like to be admired.
As I slipped into the dress, I admired myself in the mirror and began doing my hair. I got my long brown locks from my father’s side of the family, thankfully. I don't really think that my mother's curls would have suited me in the slightest. I would have looked completely ridiculous, especially with my tanned skin.
My parents moved to London from my mum's hometown in Glasgow Scotland in 1991 and found out shortly after arriving here, that I was on my way into the world. My parents used to love telling the story of how they met.
My mother went on holidays with her parents to Naples and met my father at a banquet. They had dated for a little while then decided to come to London and start a life together.
They would tell me about how they quickly got tired of the city and opted for a more quiet location, which is how we ended up here in Chilwell.
It's been a long time since I have seen the glint in my father's eye as he remembered my mother down to the finest detail, or the smile on my mother’s face as she recalled his proposal for marriage and the things he would do, just to make her laugh or smile. They were so in love, but now with my mother working all the time and so many secrets surrounding her job, they were growing apart. I could tell that they tried to play the roles of happy carefree parents, for my benefit, well, when we were all together at the same time -which was hardly ever - at least but I could tell that their love was fading away.
After pulling my long, dark brown locks into a high ponytail, I headed downstairs, hoping that my mother had calmed down enough to not end up causing another argument but when I reached the kitchen, I found Missy - the housekeeper - making herself some of her special "secret eggs" for breakfast. Mr Fluffles the cat was resting on the table, but there was no sign of my mother.
I smiled politely and said good morning to Missy as I walked over to my cat and gave him a big 'good morning' scratch.
I named him Mr Fluffles, because he is a big grey fluff ball but, I love him all the same. He is my best friend - except for Charlie - and he is always there for a hug when I am feeling down after fighting with my parents. After the fight with my mother this morning, I was in need of a Mr Fluffles hug.
I was startled out of my daze, when Missy spoke. I was so wrapped up in my fight with my mother; I had completely forgotten that Missy was still in the kitchen.
Missy is in her mid 20's but looks like she could easily pull of 18. She was around 5'5" with her platinum blonde hair pulled into a braid that hung down past her shoulders. She could have easily been a model or something and lived the high society life, but after her father past away, she hid away from the world and lived on her own.
Out of respect for his friend, my father took Missy in and she quickly became a live in housekeeper. My father tried to tell her that it was not necessary, but she protested and after a while, she was left to her will. She has been with us for about 5 years now and she's become like an aunt to me.
"Would you like some breakfast Miss Collins?" Missy asked with a smile. I laughed out loud, "How many times do I have to tell you Missy, call me Bridgette. Miss Collins sounds so formal" I said.
"Sorry Miss Co... oh... I mean Bridgette" Missy said with a laugh."Would you like some breakfast? There is more than enough to feed an extra mouth"
"Yeah thanks, that would be great" I said "What's on the menu for this morning?" I asked.
"I made some of my secret eggs. They are going to be great"
"Sure" I smiled "When are you going to tell me the secret ingredient?" I asked. Missy just looked at me in amazement.
"Now now, if I told you, it wouldn't be a secret and what's the fun of secret eggs if you know the secret?" Missy said and laughed.
"OK then, so long as the secret ingredient isn't poison" I joked. Missy just laughed again. "Well, I'm going to finish getting my stuff ready for school, just call out when they are done" I said as I put Mr Fluffles on the chair and walked into the study to grab my bag for school.
While I was in the office I found the place was a bit messy, so I decided to tidy up a little while I waited for my breakfast. I was putting a book on the shelf when I felt something hit my foot. Some sort of envelope had fallen out of the book and onto the floor. Why would my parents hide an envelope in a book?
I put the book on the shelf and bent down to pick up the envelope. There was no name on it, so I opened it up. I nearly dropped it when I realised what it was. It was a cheque for my mother. The cheque itself didn't cause any alarm, however, the amount on it certainly did. It was for $125,000 and on the back it said
Maggie
Thanking you for your assistance on that assignment.
You were a big help and a true asset to The Company.
Here is your cut!"
Sincerely
Black John
Ok. So now I am left with more questions than answers and a definite fear that my mother is mixed up in some really bad business. I mean, for one, what is "The Company", what "assignment" is this person talking about and more importantly, who is "Black John" I don't know who he is but I do know he sounds like no one good. I pondered the idea of putting the cheque in my bag and taking it to show Charlie, but quickly decided against it. If this "Black Jack" character was as bad as my gut thinks and I accidentally lost the cheque, I could be in a lot of trouble. Maybe even in danger. I know it said that the cheque was my mother's but it pays to be careful.
One thing I knew for certain was that this issue wasn't going unnoticed by my mother again. This time I had questions, and next time I see her, she will be answering my questions. Some of them at least.
I was snapped out of my thoughts, when Missy popped her head in the door."Bridgette, you're breakfast is on the table for you whenever you're ready" she said.
"Thanks Missy, I'll be out in a moment". I put the cheque back in the book and put it on the shelf. If no one knew I had touched it, I doubted it was going to suddenly disappear. I put the book on the shelf where it was and grabbed my bag as I headed out the door and back into the kitchen.
Once I finished my breakfast, I thanked Missy and grabbed my bag as I headed out the door. I had to run to make it to the bus stop, as the bus was just pulling into the curb. I got on and found myself a seat near the back. The bus smelled like old socks and the trip to school took about 20 minutes but it sure beat the hell out of walking.