Читать книгу Cherish Collection January 2014 (Books 1-12) - Rebecca Winters - Страница 14

CHAPTER SIX

THE RINGING OF the phone awoke Freya before dawn the next morning. It was Janine, sounding worried.

‘Please come,’ she said. ‘He’s gasping again.’

Freya pulled on her dressing gown and hurried out into the corridor. To her surprise she saw Jackson there, turning the key in his own door.

‘What is it?’ he asked.

‘Amos. Mum’s just called me to say he’s gasping.’

‘Let’s go.’

They found Amos sitting on the side of the bed, his chest rising and falling heavily. He looked up at Freya, and nodded when she produced the stethoscope she’d taken the precaution of bringing.

‘So now we have the truth,’ he said caustically. ‘Your visit is just another way of mollycoddling me.’

‘I’m always ready in case you need me. Now hush and let me do my job.’

‘Are you giving me orders?’

‘Yes, I am. So do as I say and be quiet.’

‘You’re as big a bully as your mother.’

‘Luckily for you I am.’

She listened to his heart, fearing the worst, but was pleasantly surprised to hear it beating strongly.

‘That’s good,’ she said.

‘Of course it is. There’s nothing the matter with me. Why must women always make a fuss?’

‘Because you mean a lot to us,’ Janine said, sounding cross. ‘Although I sometimes wonder why. You miserable old so-and-so.’

Amos gave a bark of ironic laughter. ‘And those are the words of a woman who says I mean a lot to her. Isn’t it lucky I have a sense of humour?’

‘No, it’s lucky you have a wife who can put up with your carry-on,’ Freya said. ‘Your health isn’t too bad but don’t overdo it.’

‘If you’re trying to stop me going out today, forget it. It’s our last day here before we go to Edfu and I’m not going to miss it.’

‘Perhaps you should,’ Jackson said. ‘You’ve seen this place. Why not stay here and rest today so that you’re fit for tomorrow?’

‘I’m fit for anything I say I’m fit for,’ Amos said, outraged. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve started taking their orders? That any son of mine—’

‘As a son of yours I’m practical,’ Jackson said. ‘And being practical means I’ll listen to suggestions from someone who knows better than I do.’ He inclined his head to Freya. ‘Find the experts and pick their brains. It’s the most profitable way forward. You taught me that.’

‘I’m going with you,’ Amos repeated.

‘All right, but take it easy,’ Freya told him. ‘Walk as little as you have to.’ She had a sudden burst of inspiration. ‘After all, our next stop is Edfu, where you and Horus will confront each other. You wouldn’t want to be taken ill before you get there, would you? Imagine missing him when you’ve come so far to meet him. He’s probably laying out the red carpet for you now.’

Amos cast her a wry look, conveying that he understood exactly what she was up to. But to their relief his mood improved.

‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘Nothing must get in the way of Edfu.’

‘It’s still early,’ Freya said. ‘Try to get some more sleep.’

Amos nodded and slid down in the bed. Jackson and Freya patted Janine’s shoulder, and left.

‘Is he really all right?’ he asked as they went along the corridor.

‘Yes, his heart sounds better than I expected. But he shouldn’t walk too much. It might help to have a wheelchair on hand, just in case.’

‘Gladly. You really got the better of him back there.’

‘No, you did, with your talk about profiting from the advice of experts.’ She put her hand over her mouth to smother a yawn.

‘And you’re the expert,’ he said. ‘You’d better get a little more sleep. You might find tomorrow tiring. Goodnight.’

‘Goodnight.’

Where was he going? she wondered as he walked away. Back to Debra, perhaps.

She remembered hearing him spoken of as ‘a man who likes to enjoy life, taking pleasure wherever he finds it’, and she guessed the pleasures must be many. Women would be drawn to both his looks and his growing fame as a television personality. And his easygoing good nature would add to his attractions.

As for his darker side, the one that had ruined things between them, who else but her had ever discovered it?

She had no desire to sleep. She switched on the light and took out the book about the pyramids that she’d brought with her. But even this failed to calm her mind and at last she closed it, turned the light out again and went to the window that looked out over the hotel’s garden.

In the faint light she could just make out the figure of a man wandering beneath the trees. Something about him caught her attention. He seemed not merely alone but strangely cut off from his fellow humans.

Then she recognised Jackson.

So he wasn’t with Debra, she thought. Unless Debra was coming out to join him.

But minutes passed and he was still alone. Again she had the mysterious feeling that loneliness was natural to him.

How could that be? Nobody as popular as Jackson was ever lonely.

Yet the thought would not be banished. For all his large family, his popularity, Jackson had nobody who was completely his. His brothers were all happily married; his father had Janine. But he drifted through life in mysterious isolation. The thought had never occurred to her before, and now she wondered why.

He turned, looked up and saw her. She half expected him to turn away, but he raised his arm in a gesture that invited her to join him. Her heart leapt. She waved back, and hurried away to slip some shorts and a T-shirt on before going to meet Jackson.

He was waiting for her at the door.

‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘I was afraid you wouldn’t come.’

‘But this is a lovely place. I don’t wonder you like to be here.’

He took her hand and led her through the trees to where there were some seats at the end of the garden. The pyramids were more visible now, easing their way into the light, magical, magnificent, mysterious.

For a while they sat in silence, relishing the experience, his hand still holding hers. Then he said softly, ‘I can’t tell you how grateful I am to you for coming to Egypt. It must have been difficult.’

‘I wouldn’t just abandon Amos. I know he means the world to you.’

‘In a way.’

‘In a way?’

‘Don’t misunderstand me. I love my father. But—how do I say it?—I don’t always like him. He does what suits himself, no matter who he hurts.’

He paused and she had a vivid sense of indecision tormenting him. His words were heavy with a meaning he’d never hinted at before and perhaps couldn’t speak of now.

‘Is there anything you want to tell me?’ she asked gently.

His hand tightened on hers.

‘I’ve never talked about it before,’ he said huskily. ‘But now I— For the first few years of my life I seemed to be part of the ideal family. There were my parents, and Darius, my brother, and everything was fine. Then my mother found out about my brother Marcel—the son he’d had by Claire, a Frenchwoman, five years earlier.’

‘While he was still living with your mother?’

‘Yes. I think that was one of the things that hurt her most. That he’d carried on with another woman while still playing the loving husband.’

‘How could she ever believe a word he said after that?’ Freya breathed.

‘She couldn’t. She left him. They divorced and he married Claire. Darius and I lived with our mother until she died a few years later. After that we had to return to Amos.’

‘How old were you then?’

‘Eleven. I could never be at ease with Claire. It wasn’t her fault. She was my father’s victim as much as any of us. But I blamed her for my mother’s death.’

‘You don’t mean your mother—?’

‘No, she didn’t take her life. Not exactly. But she went down with an illness that she didn’t have the strength to fight, and I don’t think she wanted to fight it. I was with her when she died, and the last thing she said to me was, “I’m sorry.” Then she closed her eyes and just let go. Meanwhile Amos was playing the field again, with Travis’s mother in Los Angeles and Leonid’s mother in Moscow. Claire found out and left him, taking Marcel. By then Darius was making his own career, so I was alone with Dad for much of the time.

‘It was like living with two versions of the same person. There was the man who’d broken all our hearts and didn’t care—a man I resented. But there was also the “Big Beast”, whom the world admired and feared, and in a way I admired him too. I wanted to be like him, earn his praise. I did some really stupid things, and the stupider I was the more he approved of me.’

‘But approval wasn’t enough, was it?’ she asked.

‘No. I wanted more. I wanted—I don’t know—something else.’

‘Love,’ she said. ‘The kind that puts you first—the kind you should expect from your parents. When grown-ups are so taken up with each other they can sometimes forget what the children need.’

He stared. ‘How did you know that? Surely your parents loved you?’

‘Oh, yes, but they loved each other first. I got lavish presents, but somehow I always sensed something missing. One year my father paid for me to go on a really expensive school trip. I thought he was being generous, finding so much money for me to enjoy myself. But while I was gone he and my mother took a holiday together. I thought there would be another holiday, with the three of us, but there wasn’t. They’d seized the chance go away without me. I know it sounds crazy and self-centred to say it like this—’

‘Not to me, it doesn’t,’ Jackson said. ‘Everything’s fine on the outside, but inside there’s a place that’s sad, hollow.’

As he said it she could see the child Jackson, surrounded by money and success but knowing there was no one who would put him first. The father playing the field with other women...the mother more concerned with her own misery than her children’s needs.

‘That’s it,’ she said. ‘I grew up knowing that I’d have to be enough for myself. Or at least pretend to be.’

‘Yes.’ Jackson sighed. ‘Exactly like that. It can be good to be enough for yourself, as long as you know when to drop the defences. That’s Dad’s trouble. He never knew. Through all those love affairs he had to be the one in control.’

They looked at each other, sharing the same curious expression.

‘We’ve known each other for six years,’ he said. ‘And we’ve never shared this before.’

‘It was never the right time before,’ she said.

‘Yes. And when the right time comes, you know. And you have to take it because it may never come again. I think you’re the only person I could ever talk to about Dad, and how tense I feel about what I’ve inherited of his nature.’

‘You can’t help what you were born with. And you’re not as bad as he is.’

‘Thanks. I treasure that.’ He added wryly, ‘And a gift for getting your own way can be useful. But sometimes it makes me wonder about myself. I’ve got a bad side.’

‘So have we all,’ she said. ‘Don’t be hard on yourself.’

‘That’s nice of you, but my bad side is worse than you know. And you know plenty, after the harm I did you.’

‘But you didn’t do it on purpose. You made an incautious remark. You couldn’t predict what Dan would do. It was a mistake, but I’ve made plenty of those myself. Let’s draw a line under it.’

He stared. ‘You’ve really forgiven me?’

‘There’s nothing to forgive. You might have been a bit clumsy—’

‘Clumsy, stupid, idiotic, thoughtless—’ he supplied.

‘If you say so. But you weren’t spiteful. You’re not capable of spite.’

‘That’s kinder than I deserve.’

His voice was heavy and she knew he was still deeply troubled—not only by their past hostility but by the burdens Amos had loaded onto him when he was too young to bear them.

He dropped his head, fixing his gaze on the ground. She knew a deep and worrying instinct to protect him. Dazzling, self-confident Jackson had never seemed in need of anyone’s protection before, but this was a new man—one he’d revealed to her and perhaps to nobody else. He trusted her. He’d said so, and had proved it by showing his vulnerable side.

In another moment she would have reached out and taken him in her arms, offering him all the comfort she could, but a warning sounded in her head. That way lay danger. The faint, flickering attraction between them might revive at any time. The memory of his lips brushing hers warned her not to take the risk.

Yet who else was there to help him? His obnoxious father? The women who came and went but never seemed to get really close to his life or his heart?

She could have cursed the malign fate that had given such insight to her—the one person who didn’t dare use it, and yet who wanted to use it with all her heart. It was alarming how much she wanted that.

She ventured to reach out and touch his shoulder.

‘Jackson—’

He raised his head and their eyes met. For a brief moment she saw him defenceless, without the mask that she now realised he wore so easily.

‘What is it, Freya?’ he whispered.

She drew a trembling breath. Another moment and she would have thrown caution to the winds. But alarm came to her aid, forcing her to speak common sense words.

‘Let’s put it in the past,’ she said. ‘We’ve always been good friends and we’re not going to let anything spoil it.’

‘Right,’ he said, and the mask was in place again. ‘Good friends it is—just like always.’

‘Always have been, always will be.’

They shook hands.

‘Oh, look,’ she said. ‘It’s there.’

The great pyramid loomed gloriously above them, golden in the fast growing light, full of promise for the day to come.

‘Yes, it’s there,’ he said. ‘It could be there for ever.’

‘When we’re not here any more—in a thousand years.’

They sat in silence for a while. At last they rose and wandered back into the hotel. It was time for the day to begin.

* * *

At breakfast Amos was in good spirits.

‘I’m beginning to find Ancient Egypt fascinating,’ Freya told him. ‘This place we’re going to today—’

‘The Giza Necropolis,’ Amos put in.

‘Yes, the place with all those pyramids. Will I see Tutankhamun’s tomb?’

‘No, that’s not here,’ Amos said. ‘He’s further down the Nile, in the Valley of the Kings. But it’s quite near Edfu, so you can see him when we go there.’

‘So who is in the Giza Necropolis?’ Freya asked.

‘Khentkaus the First,’ Amos said.

‘Who was he?’

‘Not he—she,’ Jackson said. ‘We don’t know very much about her—even who she really was. There are a thousand stories that she was the daughter of one pharaoh and the wife of another—maybe two others. She might have reigned in her own right—or maybe not. Or perhaps she was the mother of two pharaohs and the regent of one. All we know for sure is that she must have been someone important for her tomb to be located here, among kings. Apart from that she’s a woman of mystery.’

‘I thought Cleopatra was the great woman of mystery,’ Freya observed.

‘In a sense,’ Jackson agreed. ‘But we know so much about Cleopatra that there’s less mystery to enjoy. Khentkaus hides behind a fog of ambiguity.’

‘Ah, yes, that sounds far more fun,’ Freya agreed.

‘Definitely.’

They shared a nod.

‘Time we were going,’ Larry said.

Of the journey out to the Giza Necropolis she gazed, entranced, out of the window.

‘Where’s Khentkaus?’ she asked.

‘Her pyramid is just a ruin,’ Jackson said. ‘There’s very little to see. We’ll do a final shoot today and bid her goodbye.’

No sooner had they arrived than Larry summoned Jackson, saying, ‘We’ve got a problem.’

‘He doesn’t look pleased,’ Freya observed, for Larry’s face bore signs of intense exasperation. ‘Have you offended him?’

‘You bet I have,’ Jackson said. ‘I made some changes to the script we’re shooting. I often do that, and it makes him mad.’

‘I shouldn’t think the scriptwriter’s too pleased either.’

‘No, but he’s a wise man. He just keeps quiet and does what the boss tells him.’

‘The boss being Larry?’

‘Officially...’

‘And unofficially?’

Jackson grinned. ‘What do you think?’

‘That’s the spirit,’ Amos declared, delighted.

‘I guess I’m not your son for nothing,’ Jackson said. ‘But I sometimes have to make a show of deferring to Larry, just to keep the peace. From the way he’s holding up that script and thumping it, this may be one of those times.’

He went over to Larry. The others watched, fascinated to see what would happen next, but they were disappointed when both men walked away and disappeared behind some stones.

‘That’s a pity,’ Freya said. ‘It could have been fun.’

‘Jackson will win,’ Debra predicted. ‘He always does. He likes to change the words and even direct the research. And if he doesn’t get what he wants there’s trouble.’

‘There they are,’ Freya said, pointing.

Larry and Jackson had reappeared, still arguing. The listeners could make out most of the words.

‘It’s just that I can’t see it that way,’ Larry was saying. ‘The original idea—’

‘The original idea was full of holes, and it’s got to be put right.’ Jackson jabbed at something in the script. ‘I can’t say that. It doesn’t make sense. I’ve told you what I’m going to say instead.’

‘If you can get Pete to agree.’

Pete was the scriptwriter.

‘No, you’ll do that. Just tell him everything’s been decided.’

‘And has it?’

‘You know it has.’ Jackson’s grin made him charming, although his words were implacable. ‘C’mon, we’ve sorted it now. I’m not going to stand up before the camera and say something I don’t agree with, so that’s it. It’s all settled.’

Jackson returned to their side.

‘Larry’s agreed to the script change. I had to admit I’d been in two minds about it at first—’

‘That was bad,’ Amos said quickly. ‘You shouldn’t have admitted that.’

‘Well, it didn’t do any harm. He’s even going to arrange some extra shots to illustrate what I’m going to say.’

‘Good. You did well. Mind you, you took too long. You should have been firmer from the start. Then he’d have capitulated sooner.’

‘And there would have been a lot of bad feeling,’ Jackson said. ‘I work with these people. I don’t want bad feeling. It’s better my way.’

Amos shook his head.

‘You still have something to learn about standing up to people. For one thing, you should never tell them anything they might use against you. Never let them suspect a weakness. But you’ll learn. Wait till you reach my age.’

‘I’m not sure I’ll ever reach your age. Freya will have strangled me long before that. Right—time to get to work.’

Before leaving he gave Freya a significant look that she understood at once. He was reminding her of their talk in the dawn, of how troubled he was by this side of him although he couldn’t help making use of it. She offered him a smile of reassurance and he gave her a brief nod.

Everything went well after that. Despite his firm stand Jackson still managed to stay on good terms with the others. She watched him with interest, fascinated by his expertise as he led the cameras over the ruins of Khentkaus’ tomb and delivered a eulogy.

‘After thousands of years,’ he said, ‘there are still many questions. How many of her children took the throne? How many of her descendants walk the world today? Truly she was a woman of mystery, and the mystery lingers even now. Will those questions ever be answered? Probably not. Like many a woman of mystery, she prefers to keep her secrets to herself.’

He gave the smile that had done so much to win him an audience of eager fans.

‘But one day—who knows?—perhaps she will choose to open her heart to us.’

‘Cut!’ Larry yelled. ‘That’s great. All right, everyone. Time to go.’

* * *

Dinner that night was cheerful. Debra even made a jokey comment about the argument she and Freya had witnessed.

‘You won, then?’ she teased Jackson.

‘Of course,’ Jackson declared, raising his glass in Larry’s direction.

‘It’s got something to do with him being a Falcon,’ Larry said, ‘and there being a falcon god. I had to make use of that.’

‘I think it’s a great idea,’ Freya said.

‘Of course. After all, your own name is an invitation all by itself.’

‘My name?’ she echoed, puzzled.

Larry regarded her quizzically. ‘Don’t say you don’t know?’

‘Know what?’

‘That you’re a goddess?’

‘Oh, come on—’

‘No—really. Freya comes from Norse mythology. She’s associated with fertility and she rides a chariot pulled by two cats. You actually didn’t know you’re a goddess?’

‘No, and I don’t believe it. Mum—?’ Freya turned to Janine. ‘Surely not.’

‘It’s possible. Your father chose your name. He was fascinated by mythology, and he said he’d found it in a book, but that was all. It might be true.’

‘There’s another thing,’ Larry said, clearly enjoying every moment. ‘The great goddess Freya wears a cloak of falcon feathers, so in a way you’re a falcon too.’

Amos gave a crack of laughter. ‘How about that? You’ve been a Falcon all the time.’

‘Hardly,’ Freya said. ‘I think it takes a bit more than wearing a cloak.’

‘You’d better watch out, Dad,’ Jackson said. ‘You’ve met your match.’ He raised his glass to Freya. ‘I salute you.’

Amos immediately did the same, and everyone joined in.

‘You should do a programme about her,’ Amos asserted.

‘And perhaps Khentkaus as well,’ Larry agreed. ‘I remember once hearing somebody say that the most interesting crimes were committed by women.’

More laughter—except from Freya, whose face grew suddenly darker. But nobody seemed to notice except perhaps Jackson, who became suddenly intent on clinking glasses with everyone near him. Except Freya.

When it was time to retire Freya accompanied Amos and Janine to their room and made sure Amos was comfortable. Returning to her own room, she went outside onto the balcony to take a last look at the pyramids glowing against the night.

‘Are you all right?’

Jackson’s voice, coming from a few feet away, startled her. She could just make him out on his own balcony, standing quietly in the darkness.

‘I—I didn’t know you were there,’ she stammered.

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to alarm you. I was just a little concerned in case you were upset. You went quiet very suddenly at dinner, and I think I knew why. It was what Larry said about women committing the most interesting crimes. I suddenly remembered Dan saying the same thing. It came out of a book he’d read.’

‘Yes, he talked to me about it. It just reminded me of him. But it’s nothing.’

‘Nothing? It was like he’d suddenly appeared in front of you and you were shattered.’

‘No, I wasn’t. Just a little surprised. But he doesn’t trouble me any more.’

‘I’d be glad to believe that, but I worry about you.’

‘Don’t. Dan isn’t part of my life any more.’ She assumed a dramatic air. ‘Freya the goddess waved her magic wand and he ceased to exist. That’s how powerful she is.’

‘If only life could be that simple. We all have things we’d like to wipe out as though they’d never happened, but the more we want to be rid of them the more they seem to haunt us.’

Freya shook her head firmly. ‘I’m not haunted. I don’t let that happen.’

‘And Freya the goddess is in complete control, eh?’

‘Yes. You’d be surprised how powerful she is.’

‘I’m not sure that I really would be surprised. I think you keep a lot up your sleeve, Freya.’

‘I do these days—now that I’ve discovered how much other people keep up their sleeves.’

‘Was that aimed at me?’

‘Not really. No, it was more aimed at Dan.’

‘So he really is still there, isn’t he? I wonder—’

‘It’s late,’ she interrupted him. ‘I think I’ll go to bed. Goodnight, Jackson.’

‘Goodnight, Freya. Sleep peacefully.’

But he knew that he himself would be denied peace that night.

After trying without success to fall asleep, he rose from his bed and switched on his computer. A few clicks and he had what he sought.

There she was, Freya the glorious goddess, a magnificent being who carried in her train not only fertility but also beauty, war and death. One artist’s impression had managed to catch all those hints.

‘You’d really have to be wary of her,’ Jackson murmured aloud. ‘Because there’s so much more in her than you’d ever dream at first. And you’d know only what she chose to reveal.’

He stared intently at the face on the screen, wishing that it was another face and he could reach out to it.

‘A true woman of mystery...’ he said.