Confusing images float behind her eyes. She sees herself boarding a private jet. On board the plane, there are offers of drinks and refreshments which she takes as she sits down in a plush armchair and fastens her seat belt. This is how the other half live, Mia thinks. A part of her delights in and recognizes the luxury, as though she’s always known she deserves it too. She is relaxed and unafraid throughout the trip. Wasn’t she once promised glory? Perhaps this is her time?
It’s a short journey, a couple of hours, and then she exits into brilliant sunshine and a dry heat.
In this dream she is someone else, travelling to see an important person.
She’s waved through passport control on a French passport. She glances at it, seeing her face but not her name there. But she knows her name is Florence Bisset. There are others with her. The bodyguards: three men in black suits. The guards are there for her protection, not to imprison her. It is an important distinction that ensures her cooperation. They escort her from the airport to a long sleek black limousine.
She gets inside with the men, and one of them opens a bottle of Champagne.
‘To the return of your memory,’ he says in French, and Mia understands him perfectly though she’s never studied any languages.
She sips the Champagne and, after one glass, she knows who she is.
She is the daughter of the Network’s former CEO, Andrew Beech, and a German assassin known as Kritta. She was raised by the Kensingtons to keep her hidden. And at weekends she went to the house with her brother Michael and they trained together so that one day, one or both of them would take over their father’s empire. All of this comes to her with alarming clarity as they drive through a stunning landscape towards a beautiful château that lies in the middle of a vineyard.
The limo passes through a gateway that is monitored by an armed guard. Then it approaches the château via a mile-long driveway. Mia looks out at the imposing house as they draw nearer. She feels as though she knows this place: she hasn’t been here but someone once told her about it. The car pulls up at the impressive double doors. One of the guards opens the door: he holds out his hand to help Mia step out onto the driveway.
She looks up at the front steps and sees the door open ahead. Several uniformed staff pour out and line the steps as though they are there just to greet her. Mia realizes that this is exactly what they are there for. It’s a mark of respect for her status.
As she ascends the steps the maidservants and butler and footmen all applaud.
She takes their applause with a modest smile. It feels as though she is coming home after a long absence.
Mia reaches the top of the steps, still flanked by the three guards. There she sees a beautiful white-haired woman waiting for her in the doorway.
‘Welcome,’ she says.
‘Thank you, Annalise,’ Mia says, knowing instantly who this is. ‘How can I assist you?’
Annalise smiles. ‘I want to help you to secure your birthright.’
Mia nods. ‘I’m listening.’
Mia feels as though she is fully in control and this is merely a meeting for business that had to happen sooner rather than later.
‘Come inside. Let my people make you comfortable. Then, when we dine, we can discuss my plans.’
Now Mia is lying in a comfortable four-poster bed. She turns over, reluctant to let this empowering dream fade. She sees herself being escorted upstairs and led to a beautiful chamber. The room is full of preserved antique French furniture and it adds to the fairytale that Mia is imagining.
She’s given a bath, helped by two of the maidservants. They bow and scrape to her as though she is from royalty. And perhaps to these people her heritage makes her so.
Mia wakes now, and opening her eyes she realizes that she has not been dreaming after all. She is indeed in a château in the South of France and she is the daughter of someone important. But she’s also Mia, wife to Ben and mother of Freya.
She sits up so fast that she feels dizzy.
‘What’s going on?’ she says.
Her mind is assaulted by memories. Her head hurts so much she feels it is going to explode. A rush of recollections, dreamlike at first, and then swarming and attacking like flying ants. She feels nauseous and she gets up from the bed and runs into the ensuite bathroom. Dropping to her knees by the toilet she throws up the entire contents of her stomach.
When the sickness subsides, Mia gets up off the floor and washes her face in the sink. The bathroom is black and white and elegant, but she feels woozy and can barely focus on her surroundings. She stares at herself in the mirror, seeing the bags under her eyes and the bloodshot whites that suggest she was drinking heavily the night before, something she is unused to doing.
Feeling a fraction steadier, she staggers back into the bedroom. She can’t shape her thoughts into total coherence, there are too many details and images that loop around like an annoying stress dream. Everything has changed. Her life is no longer simple, and with the return of so much that has been suppressed, Mia isn’t sure she wants it to be anymore.
She lies back down on the bed and begins to focus on the room as she tries to bring her mind back to the present. Period but contemporary. The décor is fresh and clean even as the furniture is renaissance. A perfect pairing of the good things about the present and the past and it shows magnificent taste, and wealth. Something that doesn’t always go together in Mia’s opinion.
‘Annalise…’ she says.
Yes. Annalise is an important and influential figure. She is the current chair of the Network. That was what she told her last night over a supper of chateaubriand and fresh vegetables. ‘All grown,’ Annalise had said, ‘on the château’s grounds.’
There’s another flashback of memory that laps over the recollection of the night before. A lunch date with Uncle Andrew… no, not uncle. He was her father and she knew it as they sat opposite each other in the conservatory of his home in Lincolnshire. She’d often visited him there and they’d talked. When she was… activated… was that the right word? No. When she was allowed to remember, her father had told her all about Annalise.
‘I don’t trust her, of course. If anything happens to me, she’ll make a move to control. But then she’ll find that she can’t do it without you.’
‘Why?’ Mia had asked.
‘You hold the keys to my kingdom, Mia. You and Michael combined will be unstoppable. You could reshape the world. Buy governments,’ he explained.
‘Why would we want to?’ Mia asked.
‘Because power is freedom,’ Beech had said.
He had made it seem so simple. Mia had listened and she understood now, how Annalise needed her. It was obvious really. There’d always been a Beech running the Network. Male or female, it didn’t matter, they were always known as ‘Mr Beech’. And the figurehead was what kept the Network together. As well as the fear of the current Mr Beech’s wrath.
Annalise hadn’t told her, but Mia knows that this is why she has been brought here, and why her memories have been returned. But it’s no temporary transition and that is why it hurts so much. This time she remembers who she is – and it’s permanent. It can’t be taken from her, thanks to the codewords that her mother, Kritta, must have revealed to Annalise. As a result, Mia understands that she has to take over the reins or the Network will fall apart. All because Michael has failed to do so. Beech had known what he was doing with his children, even though the conditioning, the dual personalities and lives, were an experiment. As children they would switch from one personality to the other and their alter egos were totally unaware of each other.
That’s why the two merging is so confusing and painful, Mia thinks. Just as Beech had warned her it would be.
Mia’s mind settles. So much information is inside her that it’s hard to focus on what is important. The Network is designed to fail without its rightful leader. Beech has never explained how or why this was. Perhaps it was something that his father had instilled to make sure his reign would never be challenged. It doesn’t matter because now Mia recognizes it’s time to take back control.
She sits up now on the bed. Her mind and body once more within her full possession. Annalise will ask her later why she didn’t bring her daughter when she had requested it. Mia must have the answer ready.
Freya will one day take over the empire, and she must never be given into the hands of Annalise. Even in her activated state, Mia knows that. Despite appearances, Annalise’s ‘invitation’ was more of an order. But Mia understands that Annalise can’t make a move against her. She’ll be looking for an alliance. The cards are all in Mia’s hands, as long as her daughter remains safe.