‘Fine,’ he muttered. ‘When I was a child I got stuck in a cupboard.’
‘How?’
‘The door swung shut behind me before I could stop it.’
‘And it had one of those automatic locking mechanisms you’re not too keen on?’
Feeling oddly cold, Will pulled the sheet over the lower half of his body. ‘Exactly.’
Bella shifted closer and put her head on his shoulder and a hand on his chest. ‘How horrible.’
‘It wasn’t particularly pleasant,’ he murmured, deciding that understatement might well be the way to get through this. Understatement, sticking to the facts, ignoring how he’d felt at the time and concentrating on the feel of her tucked into his side. ‘I was ten.’
‘How long were you in
there for?’
‘About eighteen hours.’
Bella twisted slightly to look up at him, her eyes widening as she propped herself up on an elbow. ‘Crikey. And you weren’t missed?’
‘Not for a while,’ Will said flatly. ‘I was supposed to be staying over with a friend.’
‘So what happened?’
‘We had an argument. I came home early.’
‘And? ‘
He paused. Took a deep breath and steeled himself against the images he’d thought he’d buried in the depths of his memory, but were now flashing at the front of his brain in full, hideous colour. ‘And I stumbled across something I shouldn’t have.’
She went still at his side and her hand stopped meandering over his chest to come to a rest over his heart. ‘What was it?’
He cleared his tight throat. ‘My father. On the sofa. With my mother’s best friend. And they weren’t playing cards.’
Bella gasped softly. ‘Oh, God.’
‘Quite.’
‘So you ran and hid,’ she murmured.
‘Wouldn’t you?’
‘I expect so. But didn’t you yell or something?’
‘Of course.’ He summoned up a humourless smile. ‘I guess they were too busy to hear me.’
‘But what about the staff?’
‘It was their afternoon off.’
She frowned. ‘And your mother?’
‘Here in London. Visiting friends.’
‘So how did you get out?’
‘The cleaner found me there the following morning.’