Never Truly Living

Chapter 22

Vera was clearly not exaggerating how tired she was. Neither of them were. Before they had even left the park, the two of them started complaining about how they were to tired to walk.

"Mummy, I'm too tired to walk," Vera said, walking up to her. Vesper sighed, exasperated by her complaints, and was about to pick her up when James stopped her.

"I'll take her." He said, making eye contact with her before looking at the young girl, "Is that alright?" Vera nodded and lifted her arms up, James effortlessly lifted her up. Vera quickly put her head on James' shoulder and put her arms around his neck.

Vesper smiled when he looked at her, confused at how quickly the young girl had taken to him. She looked down to see Oliver watching her expectantly, she sighed and picked up the young boy, sharing a look and smile with James.

"Come on." Vesper said to James.

They strode streets, Vera still clutching James tightly, Oliver clutching Vesper. The day had been warm, and the air was still fragrant with the smells of late fall. But it was now nearly eight, and it the sun had sunk completely past the horizon, and the moon was rising up in the sky.

Vesper had begun to sympathise with her son and daughter, for as they strolled along, she began to feel exhaustion sink into her bones. It had been a long, eventful day, and she found it very hard to believe that just this morning she'd been sitting at her desk going over documents, and now? Now, the man she never thought she'd see again was clutching their daughter tightly as they walked through the streets to her flat.

She looked over to see Vera had fallen asleep in James's arms, then she looked at Oliver to see that he had fallen asleep in her own. And, suddenly glimpsing her son's tired face, slack and innocent in sleep, she came to an abrupt realisation. She had always been planning to bring their father into Vera and Oliver's life, but she had planned to bring him in this early, or in this way, let alone stopped to think of the consequences of bringing another person into their lives. The boy and girl already trusted James implicitly, and was clearly enamoured of the man.

And it was then, as they turned right onto her street, that the first tendrils of uneasiness began to pull at her. She had been brought back to reality, struck by the alarming thought that he would be part of their lives now, forever, whether or not the two of them managed to salvage their tattered relationship. He was a part of the family.

And at once she hearkened back to Brighton, five years ago, the day a young Sam had come to her door on M's suggestion, all dark hair and bubbliness, wanting to help Vesper care for her twins. Allowing the girl to help her and coming to trust her had taken months, and Vesper knew she was lucky that she was such a good fit.

And now she was bringing another person into this little family that she had worked so hard to keep together, allowing another person to enter her children's admittedly sheltered life. She had tried so hard to keep them safe and protected from all the evil in the world. Evil she had seen with her own eyes.

And, yes, it was James, and it wasn't as if she expected him to leave them. She knew him. He was not that kind of man. But he was also a spy for the British Secret Service, and although she knew he'd never intentionally put the three of them in harm's way, the thought of the danger that came along with his position and the thoughts of the terrifying events that had happened the last time she was involved in his life were enough to give her a jolt of alarm as the man followed her into the tall block of flats.

And he was going with her now, into her and her children's home.

And it was not only that. She had not been around a man for this long in years, and certainly not this man, the man who had fathered her son and daughter, the man who had thought her dead until just a few hours ago. The man who had recently lost the woman who had been like a mother to him since he'd been barely out of his teens. What was she getting herself into?