Читать книгу The Final Falcon Says I Do - Lucy Gordon, Lucy Gordon - Страница 9

CHAPTER THREE

NOW FREYA REALLY discovered Jackson’s flair for taking charge. In the suitcase she found items of make-up and for hair care, evidently packed by her mother.

‘Thank goodness,’ she said. ‘At least I can look my best tonight.’

But he shook his head.

‘Tonight you’re a star,’ he said, ‘and a star doesn’t do those jobs herself. She employs a professional.’

‘You mean a beautician? I don’t know any.’

‘But I do. She’ll arrive this afternoon, to place herself at your service.’ He hesitated before adding, ‘Unless, that is, you have any objections?’

Her lips twitched. ‘Don’t worry. I know the proper answer to that. Yes, sir. No, sir.’

‘You forgot Three bags full, sir. But I’ll let you off this time. I’ve got to leave now, but I’ll be back this evening.’

Naomi, the beautician, arrived at three in the afternoon. She listened politely to what Freya had to say, but clearly needed no instructions, having already received them from Jackson.

It was ironic that once Freya would have objected to the way he was directing every step. But now the sadness that consumed her made it hard to think, and it was a relief to leave the decisions to him.

She had to admit that Naomi did a magnificent job, turning her into as great a beauty as she had been as a bride. The elegant dress had a short skirt that showed off her well-shaped legs, and the expert make-up made her look delightful, the lavish hairstyle enhanced her. But when she offered to pay Naomi waved her away.

‘That’s all been taken care of,’ she said.

‘But can’t I give you a tip to thank you?’

‘That’s been taken care of too. Mr Falcon was very insistent.’

‘You mean he told you not to take a penny from me?’

Naomi smiled and shrugged. ‘Mr Falcon is a very generous man.’

She hurried out.

Yes, he is, Freya thought. More than I ever knew.

Jackson was home at six o’clock, nodded approval at the sight of her, then disappeared to don his evening clothes. When he emerged she too nodded her approval.

‘We’ll do each other credit,’ she said.

‘That’s the spirit. We’ll show ’em.’

Downstairs, he loaded her case into his car and headed out onto the road.

‘Where are we going?’ she asked.

He gave her the name of a restaurant, famous for its glamour and luxury and for being a favourite home of major personalities. Within a few minutes they had arrived.

‘Ready?’ he asked as they headed for the entrance.

‘Ready for anything,’ she replied.

‘Then here we go. Smile. They’ll be watching.’

‘Do they know we’re coming?’

‘I have a few friends in the press.’

Sure enough, heads turned as they entered. There were some cheerful waves, which Jackson returned.

A waiter showed them to a table, and the first few moments were taken up with formalities. At last they were alone.

‘Now, let’s get down to business,’ he said.

‘Business?’

‘You see those two over there?’ he asked, nodding in the direction of a table where a young couple were holding hands and gazing rapturously into each other’s eyes.

‘Yes. But we’re not going to do that, are we?’ she asked, aghast.

‘No way. Hell will freeze over before I ask you to give me that adoring look. They’re an example of what we mustn’t do. If we act like a couple in love it’ll cause a scandal. People will think you were betraying Dan and that’s why he headed for the hills.’

‘Right. So what do we do?’

‘We laugh. Let everyone see how light-hearted you are.’

‘You’ve got this all worked out to the last detail, haven’t you?’

‘Is that a polite way of saying that I’m taking charge too precisely?’

‘No, but you do seem to have a gift for organising. Perhaps nature meant you to be a film director.’

Jackson grinned. ‘You’re not the first person to say that, but the guy who said it first was really mad at me. He was the director of a TV show and I annoyed him by arguing all the time. “Everything’s got to be done the way you say, hasn’t it?” he yelled.’

‘And what did you reply? I’m glad you’ve realised that?’

‘You understand me far too well.’

Then the humour died from his face and he took a long breath.

‘I went to see Dan today. There were a few sharp words and now I don’t work for him any more.’

‘Oh, no! Your career—I never meant to harm you.’

‘You haven’t. I was already thinking of leaving. Someone else has been in touch.’

He named a firm, high ranking in the production business.

‘They’ve been dangling offers in front of me for a while. I didn’t accept because I was OK where I was, but that’s over now, so I called the man who runs this other place. He wants to do a series about ancient Egypt—myths, traditions, rituals, pyramids, that sort of thing. Once we’ve settled my contract I’ll go out there to explore. It’s a place that’s always fascinated me.’

‘Yes, it’s got a magical reputation hasn’t it? Tell me more.’

As Jackson talked she did as he’d suggested—smiling, nodding, seeming fascinated. Nobody must guess that inside she felt wretched.

She managed the pretence until Jackson finished by saying, ‘So now we can both consign Dan to the past.’

She had a feeling of being punched in the stomach.

‘Yes, we can, can’t we?’ she said bleakly.

‘But I guess it won’t happen all in a moment.’ He looked intensely at her face. ‘Perhaps I shouldn’t have mentioned him.’

‘No, I’m strong. I can cope.’

‘I don’t think you’re as strong as you like to believe you are.’

‘You’re wrong,’ she said firmly.

‘I hope so. You’ll get over him, Freya. You must.’

‘Yes, I must,’ she whispered, dismayed at hearing her voice crack on the last word. At all costs she must not weep.

Jackson took a gentle hold of her hand.

‘You can’t believe it now, but truly it will happen. The best of your life is still in front of you.’

‘Yes—of course—it’s just—I can’t—’ The tears were there again, refusing to be defeated.

‘Come on,’ Jackson said. ‘Let’s get out of here.’

He summoned the waiter, paid the bill and led her outside. She sat in silence on the journey. The courage and defiance that had carried her through the evening had vanished without warning, and she felt crushed.

When they reached the hotel he said, ‘Shall I call your mother and tell her you’re here?’

‘No,’ she whispered. ‘I don’t want to see anyone.’

‘All right.’ He kept his arm around her shoulders as they went up to her room, and went inside with her.

‘Goodnight,’ she said.

‘Not yet. I don’t like leaving you alone. You’ve been brave, and coped wonderfully, but nobody can be brave for ever.’

‘They can if they have to,’ she said huskily.

‘But you don’t have to. You’ve got a friend who’ll always be there for you.’

‘Don’t,’ she begged. ‘I can manage—truly I can. I just need to—to—’

She tried to fight back the tears but it was hopeless. Grief devastated her.

‘You need to do this,’ Jackson said, taking her in his arms and drawing her close.

At once she gave up the fight for control. The warmth and sweetness of his gesture overcame her resistance and she let her head rest on his shoulder. He was right. While he was here she didn’t need to be brave.

He turned his head, resting his cheek against her hair.

‘Go on,’ he murmured. ‘Let it happen.’

She had no choice but to let it happen. Strong, controlled Freya could do nothing but yield to the despair she’d once managed to hold at bay. She could feel Jackson patting her shoulders as they shook with sobs, and for several minutes they stood quietly, leaning against each other.

She had the sensation of being in another world. It was warm, kindly, safe. She wanted to stay there for ever.

‘Freya—’

His gentle voice made her look up to see his face just above hers, so close that she could feel his breath.

‘Freya—’ he murmured again.

There was something in his voice that she’d never heard before: uncertainty, perhaps even alarm.

‘Freya—’

‘Yes—’

She felt the touch of his lips against hers and drew in a soft breath. Next moment she was pressing against him, not even knowing what she did. Something deep inside her drove her on, telling her this was where she belonged. Without realising what she was doing she slipped her arms about him. She would have tightened them, but he tensed and raised his mouth from hers.

Suddenly tremors went through her body. The world had changed. She didn’t know where she was. She knew only that this wasn’t where she should be.

‘Freya—’

‘Let me go.’

The words were needless. He was already stepping back, putting distance between them.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said harshly. ‘I didn’t mean—’

‘Neither did I,’ she said, in a voice whose harshness matched his own. ‘Please go now.’

‘Freya, my dear—’

‘I’m not your dear. I’m not your anything. Just because Dan dumped me, did you think I was there for the taking?’

‘Of course not. I wasn’t trying to make love to you. I promise that’s one thing I’ll never do. You can count on that. It was meant as comfort.’

‘That’s one kind of comfort I don’t need.’

He seemed about to say something, but then his shoulders sagged as though he realised it was useless and he turned to the door.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘It’s not what you think. Don’t be angry. I only wanted to help you.’

‘Not like that,’ she snapped. ‘Goodbye, Jackson.’

He gave her an uneasy look, then left without another word.

He left her standing alone in the middle of the room, until her legs gave way and she collapsed onto the floor, wrapping her arms about her head, burying her face as though trying to hide from herself.

How could that have happened? How could she have felt that flickering of treacherous desire for Jackson when she was still dead inside from Dan’s betrayal? She’d been so sure that all feeling was over for her, yet in a moment the old attraction for Jackson had come flickering out of the shadows, confusing, threatening.

‘No,’ she muttered. ‘No, no, no!’

She’d run into his arms, grateful for the safety he’d seemed to offer. But there was no safety—only more devastation. The only safety lay in escape. She must get far away from him.

Monte Carlo. Janine and Amos would be leaving soon and she would go with them. Once there, she could retreat into herself and cease to exist as far as Jackson was concerned.

Cease to exist. It had a reassuring sound. And it was the only refuge that would not betray her.

She lay down on the bed and stared into the darkness for the rest of the night. Even darkness was reassuring now.

The next morning Freya went to Janine’s and Amos’s room, glad to find her mother alone. Janine was delighted with her daughter’s decision.

‘You’re coming with us? That’s wonderful. If only we could convince Jackson to come too. He was here an hour ago and Amos was hoping to persuade him, but no luck. Such a pity.’

‘He’s starting a new job,’ Freya said.

‘So he said, but Amos is furious. They’ve had a big row. He’s as stubborn as his father, so it’s stalemate for the moment. But perhaps Jackson will change his mind and join us soon.’

‘No,’ Freya said quietly. ‘I don’t think he will.’

For Jackson to join them was the last thing she wanted. Nothing mattered now but to get a safe distance from him until she could cope with what had happened.

* * *

The next few days passed in a daze: the flight to Monte Carlo, the drive to Amos’s magnificent house overlooking the bay, the feeling of having put trouble behind her at least for the moment.

Jackson stayed in touch, linking up via a video connection every evening, talking cheerfully to them from the screen. At first Freya watched these occasions from the sidelines, out of Jackson’s sight, not joining in the conversations.

But then he noticed her before she could slip away and cried, ‘Hey, there’s my little sister. How’s it going, sis?’

His use of the word ‘sister’ sounded like a message. He was telling her that their old pleasant relationship could be restored. But she doubted that could ever happen.

‘It’s going well,’ she said.

‘Glad to hear it.’

‘Is everything all right with you?’ she asked politely.

‘I’ve never had such a fascinating trip. And, Dad, when I see you I’ve got something to tell you that’ll really make you sit up...’

* * *

At last Jackson arrived at the villa. His greeting to Freya was friendly, without any tense edge. She knew a moment’s resentment that he’d brushed everything aside so easily. Clearly what had happened mattered little to him and he thought it was the same with her. Yet he was right, she realised. Casual indifference was the only thing that would make each other’s presence bearable.

Over a pleasant dinner Jackson told vivid tales.

‘I’ve never regarded myself as a man susceptible to magic,’ he said, ‘but the magic began as soon as I arrived. I was in a hotel that looked out over the desert where the great pyramids are, and I could see one from my widow. I’ll never forget standing there as dawn broke, seeing the pyramid slowly emerge from the darkness. And everywhere I went—the temples, the Valley of the Kings—there was something that would make me stare with amazement.’

‘But what was it you had to tell your father?’ Janine said. ‘We’re dying of curiosity.’

‘All right. Here goes. I had to study the Egyptian gods. There are many of them, with varying degrees of power. One of the most powerful is called Horus.’

‘But why should I be interested in him?’ Amos wanted to know.

‘Because he’s known as the Falcon god. I couldn’t believe it when I first heard that, but in pictures and statues he’s represented as a falcon. Look.’

He reached into a bag and brought out a small statue of a bird with a cap on its head.

‘That’s Horus the Falcon god,’ he said, handing it to Amos.

Janine burst out laughing at the sight of Amos’s face as he studied the figure.

‘You said it was powerful,’ he murmured.

‘He’s the god of the sky, the sun and the moon,’ Jackson explained. ‘I thought you’d enjoy that.’

It was rare for Amos to smile with genuine pleasure, but now he managed a grin.

‘That sounds about right,’ he said.

‘They knew about you all the time,’ Freya teased him.

As the meal ended Jackson drew his father aside to tell him more colourful stories about Egypt.

‘I’m so glad about that,’ Janine told her daughter when they were alone. ‘Amos is really enjoying it.’

‘I wonder how powerful Horus really was,’ Freya mused. ‘Maybe Jackson has exaggerated a bit to please Amos.’

‘Well, good for him if he has,’ her mother said. ‘It was nice.’

‘Yes. He is nice, isn’t he?’

The reminder of Jackson’s kindly side gave Freya a feeling of relief. At last she bade them all goodnight and went to bed. There she lay, brooding, wistful, daring to hope that perhaps the wretched memory could be banished into the shadows and their friendship could be restored. At last she fell asleep.

She was awoken by sounds coming from the next room, which she knew to be Jackson’s. He was talking in a sharp voice, as though annoyed. The other man’s voice sounded like Dan.

Rising quickly, she slipped on a dressing gown and went out into the corridor. Jackson’s door was closed but she could hear the angry voices clearly.

‘You should be ashamed of what you did,’ Jackson snapped. ‘And you damned well know it. Running off like that just before the wedding.’

‘Don’t heap all the blame on me,’ came Dan’s voice. ‘You were the one who made it happen.’

‘That’s not true.’

‘Yes, it is. You said it would be better to dump her then rather than later and I took your advice.’

For a moment Freya froze, then she flung open the door.

Jackson was sitting at his computer, confronting Dan, who glared back at him from the screen via a video link. Dan’s face had a self-satisfied expression that she realised she had seen many times before. But it faded as he saw her come to stand behind Jackson. Just for a moment he was taken aback.

‘Surprised to see me, Dan?’ she asked coolly. ‘After all the times you’ve avoided me it must come as a nasty shock.’

Jackson had also received a shock, going by his face as he looked up at her.

‘Freya,’ he said, almost stammering in his dismay, ‘it’s best if we talk later.’

‘I’ll talk to you later. I’ll talk to him now.’

‘There’s not much to talk about,’ Dan said.

‘What did you mean about taking Jackson’s advice?’

‘I told him I wasn’t keen on our marriage and he said I should dump you right away. I thought he knew best, so I did. I’ve got to go now, Freya. Goodbye.’

There was a click and Dan vanished from the screen.

Freya clutched her forehead.

‘He’s lying, isn’t he?’ she choked. ‘Tell me he’s lying. You never said anything like that.’

‘He’s twisted my words,’ Jackson said desperately. ‘He said he hadn’t ever wanted to get married. He proposed because Amos tried to scare him off, not because of love. I was appalled that he’d deceived you and let it get so far. I said he should have been honest with you from the start, that he would hurt you more if he married you without love and let you down later.’

‘So you did say it?’ she demanded, aghast.

‘Not the way he made it sound. I meant that he should never have planned a wedding in the first place, not that he should back off at the last minute. But he seized on it as a way out. Don’t you see? It gave him an excuse to shift the blame. All right, I was clumsy and stupid, but not malicious. Please, Freya, try to understand. I never intended it to happen the way it did.’

‘What do you mean about him proposing because of Amos?’

‘Oh, heavens!’ He groaned. ‘Amos tried to make him back off, threatened him. Dan lost his temper and—’

‘And that’s why he proposed to me?’ she whispered. ‘That’s all it was?’

‘Yes.’

‘He never loved me at all?’

‘I’m afraid not.’

‘And you’ve known this all the time?’

‘I only found out on the way to the church. If I’d known earlier I’d have warned you, but it was too late.’

‘Too late to warn me, but not too late to make him run for it.’

‘I told you I never meant that to happen. I spoke clumsily.’

‘You’ve deceived me—’

‘No!’

‘I begged you to tell me why he ran, but you never told me the truth—’

‘I was as honest as I could be, but I couldn’t repeat all the things he said. Have you forgotten the terrible state you were in that day? There was no way I could tell you everything. It would have finished you off, Freya. Please be fair.’

But she was too distraught to be fair.

‘I trusted you,’ she choked. ‘Talked to you, told you things I’d never have told anyone else. And all the time you were laughing up your sleeve at me.’

‘That isn’t true. I was trying to do my best for you. I’m sorry if I got it wrong, but I meant well. Call me an idiot, if you like, but don’t call me a deceiver.’

‘I believed you,’ she whispered. ‘Relied on you. I thought you were being so kind to me.’

‘I felt terrible about what happened—how I helped to bring it about. I’d have done anything to make it up to you.’

‘Anything except tell me the truth. Be honest, Jackson, if you know how. You’ve been enjoying watching me be an idiot, haven’t you?’

‘No, I swear it. Freya. you’ve got to believe me.’

‘How can I? When I think of some of the things I said—how I trusted and confided in you. What a fool I must have sounded!’

‘No, I was the fool for damaging you so idiotically. But I did my best to help you survive it—all right, it was a poor best, but I tried. Why don’t we talk later, when you’ve had a chance to calm down?’

She had a feeling that a chilly bleakness had settled over the world.

‘You think I’ll see sense, don’t you?’ she said bitterly. ‘You’re wrong. Nothing will change. You won’t ever look different to me from the way you do now. Mean, spiteful, contemptible.’