Torn between not wanting to scare the girl and letting Loukis know that she might have found the child, she realised that even Loukis would want Annabelle to be the priority. Célia popped back into the girl’s room and retrieved the stuffed toy that took pride of place on Annabelle’s bed and returned to the hallway, folding herself into a cross-legged position on the floor.
‘Well, Mr Bear. It’s very nice to meet you. But I wondered if you could help me, because I’m looking for a little girl called Annabelle. You see, Loukis is very worried about her...’
She held the toy to her ear, hoping that this would work. Otherwise, she really was going to look quite foolish.
‘I know,’ she said replying to nothing. ‘It’s very hard for an adult to be so scared.’
A crack appeared in a doorway a few metres from where Célia was sitting. It was just a sliver of darkness, but it was enough to give Célia hope.
‘I’m sure it’s hard for a bear to be scared too,’ she pressed on, asking whoever it was out there to forgive her for laying such a guilt trip on a ten-year-old child.
The door widened a bit more and Célia was sure that she could make out a little foot at the bottom. Perhaps even a flash of pink pyjamas.
‘But I am sure that Annabelle is okay, Mr Bear.’
‘His name is Alfred,’ came a voice from behind the door.
‘Alfred,’ Célia exclaimed. ‘What a truly marvellous name. It is very nice to meet you Alfred. My name is Célia.’ She shook the little bear’s paw all the while studiously ignoring Annabelle and instead focusing on the bear as if he were the most important thing in the world. Célia’s heartbeat had risen dramatically the moment she sensed Annabelle, but now she knew she was safe in the house, her pulse slowed even as she was desperate to call out to Loukis.
‘Is Loukis very scared?’
‘A little,’ she said, finally turning to take in the girl. ‘But nothing he won’t get over,’ she said with a smile at the little dark, curly-haired girl with tears shimmering in her eyes.
‘I didn’t want him to be scared.’
‘I know, ma chérie.’
Annabelle came to sit beside her on the floor of the hallway. ‘Why am I a cherry?’
Célia smiled, a true, wide glorious smile. ‘Well, you are deliciously pink, and sweet and I think...yes, I can most definitely see a stalk growing from the top of your head.’
‘No, you can’t.’ Annabelle giggled.
‘Yes, I can,’ Célia insisted, grasping nothing but air just a few inches above the girl’s head. ‘See?’
She couldn’t help but laugh as Annabelle craned her neck to try and look above her head and was delighted when Annabelle joined in.
Through the bannisters, just over Annabelle’s shoulder, she caught sight of Loukis, who immediately pressed a finger to his lips, clearly not wanting to interrupt. She saw him lean back against the wall, and inhale a silent, but shaky breath of relief.
And as the adrenaline crashed down through her body, Célia was torn between an irascible fury that he was foisting this sweet adorable little girl on a mother who she clearly did not want to see, presumably so he could go about his playboy ways, and the swipe of her conscience reminding her that it was none of her business either way.
‘I think that Alfred is a little tired after all this evening’s excitement. What about you?’ she said to Annabelle.
* * *
Loukis closed the door to Annabelle’s bedroom, putting the phone he’d just checked back into his pocket and heaving the deepest sigh of relief that he had ever breathed. The moment he had heard Annabelle’s giggle from the floor above, he’d wanted to sweep her up in his arms and never let go. And it was precisely that which made him surer than ever that he could not let Meredith gain custody. Not even for a second. Annabelle had been so devastated by the return of her absent mother she had run away. She could have been...
He stopped his mind from reaching all the dark places that had nearly consumed him in the last two hours. She was safe. And he would do whatever it took to keep her that way. Especially in light of the press’s recent and most devastating blow. He stalked down the stairs and into the living area where Célia was sitting having a drink with Tara, who was still looking deeply upset.
‘Mr Liordis, I’m so very—’
He cut off her words with a slash of his hand through the air. ‘It’s fine. She’s safe. You may go,’ he instructed. He certainly didn’t need a witness to his next conversation with Célia.
Tara put down her drink, casting a watery-eyed glance at each of them, before retreating upstairs to her room.
As Célia moved to do the same with her glass, he took a seat opposite her, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. She seemed to realise that the gesture spoke of a future conversation and pulled the glass back to her as if unsure of what was going to happen next.
‘I...’ He stalled, trying to order his thoughts. Knowing what needed to be done and yet somehow wanting to put it off, if only for a moment. ‘Thank you. For this evening.’