Page 6 of The Beast's Heart

“You’re the PR guy. Tell me how we’ll explain another delay? Our teacher arrived but it was the wrong one? He isn’t a parcel we couriered in. This is the person who’ll spend the most time with the children. We won’t recover from this mistake.”

He holds up his hands. “Okay, hold on. Let me get this straight. You wantthe person who’ll spend the most time with the childrento be some rando, who just wandered in here, rather than the tutor we painstakingly hired? You’re just gonna go with whatever scam he’s pulling?”

It does sound ridiculous. I tug at the roots of my hair. The thing is.The thing is.I’ve now met Jonathan. Sleazy con man he is not. I don’t know what his deal is but that blushing pile of nerves is no supervillain. And I’ve met more supervillains than most. He’s young, gentle, in way over his head. If anything, I’m concerned about what the children might do tohim.

“It’s unlikely it’s a scam,” Meredith says. “As you can see, he changed some of the details we had on file—his passport, NI number, phone number—over the last few weeks. He was clever about it and it’s clear he thought this through. One thing he didn’t change, however, were the bank details. His salary is set to go into the old man’s account.”

“Clever isn’t the word I’d use,” Geoff says. “He actually thought he could fool us with this?”

Meredith sighs. “He might have thought the foundation was bigger than it is, that The Beast was more hands off. Either way, there’s something to be said for his courage.”

“You mean his audacity.”

“Until we know his reasons, we can’t?—”

“Quiet.” I pinch between my eyes, trying in vain to rub away the tension headache. “The priority now is to get the media drive underway. Then the fundraiser. Then we’ll see where we stand.”

They both stare at me without saying anything. They think I’ve finally gone off the deep end. Maybe they’re right.Took me long enough.

“You… still plan to go ahead with the fundraiser?” Meredith asks.

The plan was to bring a whole bunch of celebs and money up here for a giant party in August, where they’d get to meet the kids and see just how fulfilling it could be to foster. Not only would it raise funds (funds our foundation desperately needs), but it would go a long way to raise awareness aboutthe challenges the foster system is facing. But now… well, now there’s a fucking pandemic, isn’t there?

“The fundraiser is five months away. They might have a vaccine by then, or even a cure.” It’s possible. The media is saying 2021, but it’s possible everyone will be surprised.

Meredith frowns, expression full-on pity. I don’t need pity, I need plans. I need this foundation to survive. I need the work that Lloyd and I started to continue. I need?—

The door blows open and Geoff startles and swears. I go to close it. “I’m a problematic head of this foundation to begin with. We know that. No one expects The Beast to genuinely care about anything. We need to show them otherwise. If I can show them, the people with money, the people with power, what I’m trying to do, if they can come here and see, if we can get buy-in…”

The sound of Beethoven drifts in through the open door. I’m almost certain it’s not in my head. The music’s soft and coming from far away. At once I’m climbing the stairs up to this house for the first time. I’m holding him in my arms again. I’m making promises I’ll never get the chance to keep. The swell of emotion hits me full on, even after all this time. I hold onto the door frame to keep myself steady.

“Beast?” Meredith asks, gently.

I lift my head and square my shoulders. “Thisneedsto work. And for this to work, we need to show the world that when children are given the proper resources to thrive, they do. That can’t happen if we don’t have a tutor. The teacher stays.”

I know it’s a foolhardy move. But I’ll keep my eye on him. I’ll watch him day and night if I need to. And if this doesn’t work out? At least it will buy us some time to find a viable alternative without putting the project on hold again.

“You’ve lost your mind,” Geoff says.

“Last I checked, I’m the one in charge here,” I snap.

He holds up his hands in surrender. “Your funeral.”

“In the meantime,” I say to Meredith, “Let’s line up some interviews with other teachers.Discreetly.No harm in having a backup plan.”Although I can’t imagine any of the good ones will be available, we might get lucky.

“Of course.” She makes a note on her iPad. “Are you going to confront him?”

“Let’s not show our hand yet.”

5

JONATHAN

Iconsider dressing for dinner, but that would be silly, wouldn’t it? It’s not like I’m dressed informally. I’m wearing a nice tweed jacket and waistcoat with my favorite paisley tie over a green oxford shirt that matches my eyes. Despite Zane’s barb, I like these clothes. I like how I look in them. But I pace in front of the mirror, straightening, tweaking, buttoning, unbuttoning and generally fidgeting for ages. I change the jacket for a blazer. I run my fingers over the expensive fabric, soothing myself with its soft texture. Then take it off, hang it up, and change back into the tweed.

This is fine. This is okay.This is not the thing that’s going to get me thrown in Scottish prison or broken in half. No one will care what I’m wearing. De Villeneuve was in a henley with jeans for goodness’ sake.

It’s a relief when it’s finally nearly seven. I follow the long passage back towards the control room, but pause outside the room he indicated would be used as a classroom. Curiosity gets the better of me and I nudge the door open.

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