Miss Bell & The Red Socks

As usual it started with a death, and a cup of tea. My uncle was gone, and I wish I was too. They buried him quickly, just as the storm was rolling in. My name is Clarissa Bell, and I have been told since the age of my birth, I will inherit my uncle’s entire fortune when I turn nineteen. I remember he’d do anything for the people he loved, and I knew without question that I was the person he loved the most. The man had many secrets, and one of them was about to delivered to me. My sister and I sat quietly inside the lawyer’s office on 224A Hamlet Court, London. There is no sound in the office, yet everyone is moving, moving and not talking. My sister Constance, walks back and forth by the front window, always in easy reach of her cellphone. While I sit, unable to read, foot tapping up and down like some wind-up toy. I knew in the next five minutes the lawyer would walk through the door. Yet in some way I was terrified.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned from being an agent, it’s that some girls have a frightening killer instinct. While those, like my sister Constance and I, we keep our uncle’s secrets hidden. Our best family tradition is protecting our own, but it seems even spies have their inner demons that make them take their own life.

I guess that’s what happens when you’re a family of secret agents-secrets carry burdens.

My uncle’s mission was over two weeks ago, and the only sound in this office was that stupid grandfather clock, ticking away, marking the seconds. Each passing moment only leads to the next, taking me away from the allotted time spent away from this place. All I ever wanted was to get out. My uncle was lucky, he took his own life. Meanwhile my sister and I were about to be granted our freedom. It was promised to us.

To ease the tension in the room, I begin flipping my uncle’s favorite playing card, the Ace of Spades back and forth in my hands. The flashes of the cars passing reminded me of the time I counted them on such dreary days as this. I had been so mad at him when he left us. I simply just wanted to get this whole ordeal over with.

My sister finally sat down, crossing her legs each time they got tired. Along with that nervous tic she always had of biting her nails, and repeatedly taking selfies of her new Jimmy Choo’s. As for me, well it was the constant sipping of my black tea that drove me to randomly admire the credentials of Mr. Tobias Morgan on the wall.

First it was Harvard, and then it was King’s College, quite impressive for a lawyer. The clock was ticking half pass 9:00am and although I was already looking forward to the endless Valentino’s gowns, Gucci shoes, constant parties, and no more running. However my patience was wearing thin. My sister got up from her chair, her eyes dart towards me.

“Sit up straighter Clarissa, there is no need to slouch” she requested, taking the tea from my hands. Dusting off my ebony blouse, I place both my hands on top of my dark stockings.

Glancing down at my Cartier watch, there came a swift opening from behind me. Both of us turn to see Tobias Morgan, his pink-cheeked, tanned complexion was visible underneath his neatly trimmed grey mustache. He had an amber folder with him. Both us where holding our breath as he sat down behind his desk.

“I will first start out by saying my condolences on your loss. Well, it seems quite clear that the late Alistair Bell, your uncle, has laid out his last will and testament. I am to explain to you both, what Mr. Bell has expressed for each of you,” he cleared his throat, opening up the parchment.

I could feel my sister leaning in to see if she could see anything containing to the billions that we were about to inherit.

Tobias, adjusted his reading glasses, “It is as follows, I, Alistair Bell here of sound, mind and body, here by leave my-”

As I was on the edge of my seat, my sister jumps up, “Just skip to the end please” she replied. Both I and Tobias darted our eyes at her candor.

“Excuse me?” Tobias, raised his head. “I mean there is no need to go over this procedure is there? I mean, we have been well informed of our uncle’s sudden passing. We have been raised as socialites and shielded as criminals,” she took a quick breath.

“I would like if we could skip to the end, please. We get what our uncle did now it’s time to move on to what he left us. We do not wish to be consoled into anything to do with his business. He promised us a good life. He could not subject us to anymore of what he had to deal with. Besides, we have family to attend to, and my poor sister Clarissa cannot miss her train back to school” she replied, with a smile.

“Wow, hold that chin up more sister or that crown will slip” I mutter under my breath.

“You know as well as I Clarissa, we are not in that business anymore”

I quickly snatch her arm to sit her beside me, but she pulls away.

I could hardly believe she would say something so rude. Though in the back of my mind I kind of hoped to get to the bottom of what my Uncle had said in his will.

Tobias was shocked to see such attitude from my sister. He adjusted his glasses again; perhaps it was a way to flip her the middle finger.

“Yes-well.” Clearing his throat. He glares down at the paper. “Is there a problem?” my sister asked, her voice growing higher. I quickly cross my legs, darting another look between her and Tobias.

“No Miss, oh here we are-” his finger pointing down at the bottom of the parchment.

“To my inheritance I leave to a Mr. Patrick Kingsley”

“Wonderful! -What!” my sister shrieked. “What? Who?” I say, immediately getting up from my chair. “What the hell?”

I was of course shocked just her, my eyes widen, not only did I just lose my entire inheritance; it was the name of who it went to. Both I and my sister look at one another before a knock came on the other side of the door.

“You may come in!” Tobias shouts, as if the whole conversation had been listened in on. All three of us, turned towards the door. I held my breath. I couldn’t believe my eyes; he looked like my uncle, except for the eyes. Intense, and unlike the rest of him they weren’t at all expressive, they were cold, like ice.

“Ladies allow me to introduce Mr. Patrick Kingsley.” I notice Tobias eyes were smiling with envy. I didn’t quite understand why.

“Are you kidding me? Our uncle never mentioned this man!” Constance shouts.

“He is a liar!”

“This is nonsense, this is a mistake! We are the soul inheritors of this fortune not some street commoner!” she banged her hands-on Tobias desk, almost snatching up the will. He quickly pressed it closer towards his chest, as if it were priceless.

“Miss, I am sorry, but your uncle was quite clear on who he wanted as his beneficiary”

“This is INSANE!” her voice raised louder. She started to pace the room. “My sister and I deserve what we are owed! What is to happen to us?”

I could already see her trying the water works. I tried to remain calm, inside I was barely holding it together. The only thing I could picture was us in the streets. No more Gucci, no more Valentino gowns, no parties, and absolutely no one to protect us.

“There is no need to panic Miss Bell, as it turns out you will be ensured a sum” Patrick’s rich voice catches my attention. I turned my head slightly to see him standing right beside him.

Constance crosses the room, to get a better look at him. “A sum? Just who do you think you are?”

“A sum? Clarissa, we have a sum?” my sister adds, pulling me over to her.

“Yes, the sum of five-thousand dollars and only Miss Constance Bell is to collect her things from 129 Queen’s Gate, and never return” he explains.

My heart sinks at the feeling-what about me?

“He can’t DO THIS!” Constance wanted to hit this boy called Patrick. His icy blue eyes didn’t blink once when she began stomping her pumps across the floor in protest.

“This can’t be happening” I said aloud.

“As for Miss Clarissa Bell, if she wishes to stay in the life she has grown accustomed to, she will accompany me. To stay where she truly belongs.” Patrick’s voice was deep and demanded the entire room. I could feel my breath lessen; He was serious.

What did he mean by that? Somehow, I couldn’t form the words to ask him.

I stared at his handsome face, “Are you kidding me with this?”

Tobias points again to the parchment, “I am afraid it is true, all right here”

Turning in his direction I could already see Constance was on the verge of tears.

“Come on Clarissa, let us get our things. There are many friends who would gladly take us in, and shun Mr. Kingsley for the-thief, that he is”

Grabbing her shawl, Constance begins to head for the door, while I stayed seated. “Clarissa!” she demanded, looking over her shoulder beside the door.

Patrick placed his hands behind his back. Before standing near the window.

“Clarissa!” she raised her voice again. My eyes looked up at her. I knew I should get up, but something was keeping me from walking out that door with her.

“Clarissa now!”

“I am sorry Constance I choose to stay”

Her eyes widen and her fists begin to curl. “Clarissa get off that chair now and let’s go. He is nothing more than one of them.” she says, giving Patrick a glare of insults.

“I choose to stay. I am sorry, but I can’t lose my reputation in society” I said.

She snatches up my arm, pulling me towards the corner of the room, “How many times has our uncle been disloyal to us? How many times did he leave us alone without so much as a good-bye? And now you will leave me? What happened to family is forever?” she whispers in my ear.

I pull my arm away from her tight grip, narrowing my eyes towards her.

“We are a family of masquerades dear sister.” I mutter.

“You chose him over me?”

Constance then tries to pull me out of the room, before I brace myself, “No, I’m not choosing him or you. I’m choosing me.”

At once she grabs her white and brown checkered Louis Vuitton bag, and quickly exits the room, without so much as a hug good-bye. The slamming of the door was clear; she would probably never speak to me again. Patrick turned his head in my direction, I could feel my pulse quicken. My uncle had warned me about never trusting in the business but never the ones blue eyes and a heartbeat.

“Miss Bell, if you would accompany me outside, we are to leave immediately” he tells me, stepping aside for me to go ahead of him. I wasn’t sure whether to stay put or just allow myself to go first. I kept my mouth shut, unaware of my heavy breathing.

Patrick wastes no time, and walks towards the front door, opening it a jar, he waited.

There were no bags for me to take, only the one playing card in my hand.

“Where are we going?” I ask, hesitant. Patrick turned in my direction again. “The car is waiting, I will tell you inside”

He directed me to walk through the door as quickly as I could. Though I was still hesitant on why my uncle left such a fortune this man, I went along. There was no cause to doubt that I would still have the luxurious lifestyle I had grown accustomed too.

Making my way outside, the car was waiting for us, the driver already in the front seat. I couldn’t see his face as he kept the tinted window up, but I could make out he had dark sunglasses on. I step inside the car, and sat near the rear left side window. Patrick quickly got in beside me. There was hardly any room for both of us as he closed the door. The car sped off, as if we had some sort of deadline.

“Your phone”

I realize I left it back in the office, “I don’t have it”

A relieved grin fills up Patrick’s face. “Quite alright, wouldn’t need it anyways”

“Where are we going?’ I ask, gazing out the window. Patrick didn’t say a word. His face seemed concerned over something.

“Mr. Kingsley, where are we going?” I ask again. His eyes fell onto mine, “Put your seatbelt on” he told me. I force a look at him when I saw he didn’t have his seatbelt on.

As I do as he says, the car comes to a red light.

My stomach shifts uneasily, and I notice that his hands keep touching something behind his back. His thick leather jacket kept me from seeing what it was.

“You know I never thought I would see you there,” Patrick began.

I rolled my eyes. “Excellent time to show up and take my entire fortune. I really don’t understand why my uncle left you the money. Just what exactly am I doing with you anyways?”

A muscle twitched involuntarily at the corner of his right eye. With arms folded tightly across his broad chest he tapped his foot furiously all the while staring ahead.

“Your uncle was not the kind of person you think he was. He meant for us to meet”

I was slow to pick up on his hints.

“Oh no, I don’t want any part of this, whatever this is...”

Patrick unfolded his arms, cautioning me. “Just listen-”

“No I am not going to share my inheritance with you” I burst out. “That’s insane!”

“Clarissa, you’re being irrational. ”

I glared at him. “He promised-he promised me and my sister a good life. Now my sister is estranged from me and I am riding in a car with a man that wears red socks to a hearing. How is this any better?”

“Hear me out,” he urged.

“No!” I shouted. “You tell me now what is going on. Who are you?”

“Just a few more blocks to go and I will tell you” he says. “No, tell me now. You are starting to freak me out”

Just as I was about unbuckle my seatbelt and make a daring escape from the car; I saw a flash of a black SUV slam into our car. At the last second, I nearly jumped. My body hit the side of the car and I screamed.

The car had flipped so many times that I became disorientated before I was fleetingly aware of the bloody taste in my mouth.

At times my mind was in and out of darkness, before I heard the screeching sound of metal against metal. It knocks me awake. I was aware then the car was upside down and I was tangled in the seatbelt. My lungs felt as though they would explode if I moved at all. Coughing I turn my head slightly to see Patrick on the laying inside on the roof.

Blood was dripping from his forehead, and from his right cheek.

He’s dead.

“Pat-rick” I whisper, my voice hoarse.

I tried to take off my seat belt to help him, but was unsuccessful. That was when I noticed a pair of leather Oxford boots walking towards the car.

“Pat..Patrick” I whisper again, trying desperately to get out of my predicament. I tug and pull, hearing then the sound of a gun cocking. Don’t ask me why the sound was familiar, I have heard it enough times in movies to know what it sounds like. Of course it was a fact my uncle collected guns for a hobby. As I felt like I was about to faint I finally get loose, falling to the side.

I quickly try and wake Patrick, shoving him even harder. With every part of my body shaking, the unknown man shifted the glass outside the car. My eyes widen when I saw another pair of Oxford shoes go around the other side of the car.

Why wasn’t anyone helping us? I thought.

Again I try and wake Patrick, but before I could get a response, my feet were snatched.

I let out a desperate cry before I was set on my feet. I scramble when I see an orange haired man looks down at me. He was bulker than I have ever seen. Like a bodybuilder or something.

“Take her” I hear someone call behind me. His arms reach for me, I scream again, before the man

twists me around and flings me over his shoulder like a rag doll. I scream again.

“Patrick!”

“Someone help me!”

My eyes try to focus on one thing, the car. There I saw the shorter man bend down to see inside, a pistol at his side. A ring of shots fires out of the car and then from the shorter man, before he fell to the ground.

Bullets singed off the buildings and wreck cars. The large man dropped me onto the sidewalk. Skinning my knees, I try to make a run for it. Bullets wisped pass my head as I dart behind other cars.

I don’t know where I am going, but I continue to run, away from him. I don’t look back but I can hear him running after me. I am not a slow runner, but compared to him, I am slow enough. When I get down behind a car, almost close to the entrance way of a shop and out of this battle zone, someone grabs hold of my shoulder. I start swinging. I shove it even harder when they pull me behind the wheel of the car.

Patrick covers my mouth, before I could make a sound.

At first he tries to move positions but then he stops. I see the hurt in his eyes, maybe that’s the way someone looks when they have they nearly die from an ambush. He is bleeding from a wound over his eyebrow, and one on his cheek right under the eye.

“Be quiet” Patrick tells me.

“We have to move, and fast. Whatever you do, don’t let go of my hand” he says, getting up on his feet. But that’s exactly what I want to do, run away from here. And there’s no way Patrick would let me do that. Then we run, through the streets, as fast as we can, and we don’t look back.