Alyona's Voice

by Joan Shirley-Davies

  Fraser smiled. ‘Yes, darling, you look very beautiful.’

  Chapter Four

  The next morning, Fraser was keyed up the instant his eyes opened. His mind was racing around, considering the possible pitfalls of the next few months. He’d taken business losses before, but if this failed, then the people of Wainford would be the losers, and for them it would be for a second time. He could always try it again with another plan, but would they trust him again? He wasn’t sure he’d gained their confidence even now, it all hinged on the conference.

  As he showered, he mentally thought through his morning schedule. His head was well and truly fixed on work, so it was a surprise to find Natalie standing there when he turned off the water. As beautiful as she was, he felt invaded. Natalie wasn’t normally with him on a workday. His life was carefully structured into two definite times, business and private. Natalie belonged in the latter when she could expect his undivided attention. He would never take phone calls or talk about work when they were together. This cosying up in the shower was strictly a leisure time thing.

  Natalie circled his rib cage with her arms. ‘Want some company, Hon?’ she said seductively.

  ‘It’s a lovely idea, darling, but I really need to keep my mind on my work this morning.’

  Natalie’s arms dropped. ‘Sure you do.’

  ‘I thought you were asleep.’ Fraser stepped out of the shower, snatched up a towel and wrapped it around his waist. He used another one to dry his shoulders.

  ‘What’s wrong with you?’ Natalie complained as she put on a bathrobe.

  ‘Who said there was something wrong?’ Fraser said and returned to the bedroom.

  Natalie followed him. ‘Nobody said it, but you’ve been showing me since we got here. I know something’s wrong with you. Or is something suddenly wrong with me?’

  ‘Natalie, don’t exaggerate. I’m just the same as usual.’

  ‘Is that right? So when did you ever wear pyjamas?’

  ‘I always do if I’m a guest in somebody else’s home,’ Fraser answered.

  ‘Is that why we don’t make love, because we’re in your cousin’s house?’

  ‘For goodness sake, do you keep a log on our sex life?’ He rubbed his hair with the towel, then combed it with his fingers.

  ‘You’re going off me,’ Natalie insisted. ‘I know you are. Is that how long a relationship lasts with you…six months?’ She returned to the bathroom.

  Fraser continued to dress. Now his work schedule had gone from his head in favour of Natalie’s need for attention. They were good together. Until recently, they wanted the same things from a relationship. Now it seemed Natalie had a new set of priorities that involved a bigger commitment than Fraser could make. He had feelings for Natalie, but he had never felt that powerful, consuming love that Tony felt for Lizzy. But then it seemed that all Franklyn men were destined to be smitten that way.

  Natalie emerged, snatched up some clothes and returned to the bathroom as if to deliberately deny him the sight of her body. It was some time before she came back into the bedroom. She was dressed, her hair and makeup perfect. He could see that she was watching him adjust his tie.

  ‘It’s perfect,’ she snapped. ‘For Christ’s sake, leave it alone.’ She sighed and said, ‘This trip is turning out to be a disaster.’

  ‘Natalie, when you decided to come here for the whole week, I explained how it would be. I have people arriving at the hotel this morning. I need to be there. I can’t change the schedule arranged for over a hundred delegates, just to please you.’

  Natalie moved about the room, talking to nobody in particular, blaming her own actions for the rift, muttering about pushing him into a corner.

  Fraser scowled. ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘You’ve never been the same since I made that stupid proposal.’

  ‘It wasn’t stupid,’ he reassured her.

  ‘But it isn’t what you want.’

  ‘It isn’t what you wanted either. All you asked was that we had fun, and I didn’t cheat on you. It never occurred to me to be unfaithful, and you have to admit we’ve had a great time. Now you’ve changed the rules, you want something I can’t give you. Look at us, we can’t even spend a few days together, let alone a lifetime. We’d be divorced in no time at all.’

  ‘Everybody takes that risk.’

  ‘It’s not supposed to be a risk. You can’t make marriage vows with your fingers crossed behind your back, just in case it doesn’t work out.’

  ‘Are we breaking up?’

  ‘No, why do you think that?’ Fraser went to her. ‘I’m perilously close to being 39 years old. It’s high time I was thinking about marriage, I know, but I’m not. I’m really sorry.’

  ‘No, you’re not. I don’t want to be on my own again today. Being in the country freaks me out.’

  ‘Being on your own, anywhere, freaks you out.’

  ‘I’m going to London. I’ll come back on Friday, for the party. I’ll get my things together.’

  ‘Take your time, it’s early yet. I’ll arrange some transport for you.’

  ‘A lift to the station will do. I’d rather go on the train. That is if you have trains around here.’

  ‘Of course we do, if you don’t mind the soot and the steam.’

  ‘I suppose I asked for that.’

  ‘Country living isn’t primitive, Natalie, just different from the city.’ He put his arms around her and gave her a hug. ‘I’ll get Joe to take you.’

  When Natalie got into the car, part of him was saddened by it, yet he felt relieved because she hadn’t enjoyed being at Larchwood. What she would do after the party, he couldn’t guess, maybe she’d just go back home again until the conference was over. He watched as the vehicle moved through the arbour, and then he returned to the house. One thing was certain, compromises would have to be made if the relationship was to last any longer.

  As he made his way to the kitchen, in search of coffee, he felt bereft. It should have been because Natalie had left, but it was Claudia who had suddenly invaded his thoughts and made him think of the old days. He would have gone to see her. It’s what he did when life was out of sync, and she was always there to listen, sympathise and often chastise him―very often. Above all, she let him drone on about his frustrations long enough to set things right again. But the Claudia from his past was gone now, and this new person was in her place. He drew a long breath and sighed it out, all too aware that part of him was still missing. He then began to question if it was really all her fault that they lost touch. His phone had been switched off most of the time back then, when his private profile became way too high for comfort―one of the drawbacks of dating a hot Latino movie star. It was all very thrilling and good for morale, but it came at a price, his privacy being the bigger part of it. He shook his head and muttered, ‘Paloma Cardini? Not your finest hour, Fraser.’

  He stopped as he suddenly wondered if that was the time Claudia drifted away, when he was preoccupied and foolishly infatuated. She was always well grounded, had probably lost patience with him and decided to move on. Thinking about it made him even more restless. He called his London office and spoke to his PA. Asked if she could remember anything about that time when the press were troubling him.

  ‘But that was a couple years ago, Fraser, I’m not sure―’

  ‘I need some feedback on this,’ Fraser scotched her negative response. ‘Find your notes, ask around. Just try and remember something, anything, and get back to me. I’m going to be at the hotel all day.’

  *****

  Lizzy, and her close friend, Jenny, met for tea and cake at the Merevale Hotel, every Wednesday afternoon. Claudia had been invited to join them. She was concerned about her workload, but thought it would be ill mannered to refuse. Besides, she loved Lizzy’s company, and it sounded fun. She tied her hair back neatly and was happy that her jeans and top were presentable.

  The hotel was bustling with guests, and the restaurant was busy,
but the hum of conversation over afternoon tea was not so noisy as to drown the genteel chink of china.

  Lizzy smiled and waved to her from a table by the window. otelHotel

  ‘Brilliant!’ she said as if Claudia had done something special. ‘You made it.’ She introduced her friend, ‘Jenny has the florist studio at the Lakeside Centre. She’s like a doctor or a lawyer, she probably knows more about the private lives of people in this community than anybody.’

  ‘Yes,’ Jenny confirmed. ‘Birthdays, anniversaries, new babies, whose had a row with his wife…’

  ‘But she never tells,’ Lizzy reassured her.

  ‘This is great,’ Jenny said with a beaming smile on her face, ‘another member for our tea and cake club, our weekly fix of gossip and comfort food.’

  Claudia glanced about. ‘How many members do you have?’

  ‘Altogether, including you, that’s three.’

  Claudia smiled. ‘I’m very honoured. You did well to get a table here, it’s really busy.’

  ‘It’s not luck,’ Jenny said. A hint of mischief glinted in her eyes as she leaned forward to whisper, ‘It’s Lizzy, she’s having this long-term, steamy affair with the owner. They’re crazy in love. He’ll do anything for her, picks up the tab―every Wednesday.’

  Claudia was taken aback for a moment. Having been invited, she didn’t wish to appear prudish, but she wondered at the frankness of the conversation, until it became obvious that it was a joke. She smiled and said, ‘He sounds like a really generous, fabulously hot guy.’

  ‘He is,’ Lizzy said, ‘my generous, fabulously hot guy.’ She shook her head at Jenny. ‘You might have let Claudia weigh you up before you sprang that on her.’ She turned to Claudia. ‘As you’ve probably guessed, this is Tony’s hotel. They keep this table for us.’ She gestured to the three-tiered stand, full of tempting pastries. ‘Come on now. We don’t allow the calorie police to come to our club. Sensible eating is against the rules for the next hour. Then you’ve got a week to work it off before the next club meeting.’

  Claudia’s soul sighed with contentment to be in such good female company. She took a strawberry tart from the cake stand. ‘This looks so wicked,’ she said with a chuckle, ‘fresh strawberries.’

  Jenny stared down at her plate and then looked up, with a grim expression on her face. ‘It’s not the same is it…plain sponge?’

  ‘Not the same?’ Claudia queried.

  ‘I normally have chocolate fudge cake, but I can’t now, I’m pregnant.’

  Claudia smiled, and her eyes shone as she said, ‘Congratulations.’

  Jenny picked up her pastry fork. ‘It’s not just any old chocolate fudge cake, it’s mine. The pastry chef invented it for me, it’s a special recipe.’

  ‘Oh…that really is a big sacrifice then,’ Claudia said.

  ‘I’ve waited all this time to be pregnant, only to go through this gruelling comfort deprivation.’ She then chanted as if she was reading a list. ‘Can’t have chocolate…can’t have wine…can’t have Brie…can’t have coffee…’

  ‘Nor sushi or shark,’ Lizzy added.

  Jenny grimaced, ‘I won’t cry over that.’

  ‘It’s worth it in the end,’ Lizzy assured her, ‘and you’ve only got four months to go.’

  Jenny nodded. ‘Yes, you’re right. At least I don’t have to give up sex.’

  ‘There you go then,’ Lizzy spoke in a comforting, positive way, ‘that compensates. A night of romance and passion makes you feel like a woman, doesn’t it?’

  ‘No, it makes me feel like chocolate.’ A mischievous glint came into her eyes as she said, ‘How about you, Claudia? Does a night of passion make you feel like a woman?’

  ‘I always felt compelled to walk by the sea.’

  ‘That sounds like the past,’ Jenny said. ‘I’m talking about now.’

  ‘You’re fishing,’ Lizzy accused, ‘trying to find out about Claudia’s love life.’

  ‘I lived by the sea for a while.’

  ‘Who with?’ Jenny queried. ‘What was his name? Are you still together?’

  Claudia was trying to think of a way to avoid these questions when something distracted Jenny, and the moment passed.

  ‘Heads up!’ Jenny said, ‘Talking of sex and chocolate… shedloads of it―coming this way.’

  ‘Who is it?’ Lizzy said.

  ‘Don’t look!’

  ‘Why should you have all the fun?’

  ‘Because I’m the one who’s deprived of chocolate fudge cake. I’m entitled to compensation.’ She stared ahead and added, ‘I know one of these guys, but I’ve never seen the other gorgeous, tall, blonde creature before. Wow! He can share my cake any time.’

  Lizzy laughed. ‘Share your sponge cake, you mean. You wouldn’t let him have your chocolate fudge. Behave yourself, you’re a respectable, pregnant woman.’

  ‘Well, two out of three isn’t bad. Anyway, I’m only looking. I haven’t got to give that up too, have I?’

  ‘So what’s happening?’ Claudia prompted.

  ‘Fraser’s making his way towards us and bringing his guest.’

  Claudia’s heart sighed. Couldn’t she just enjoy a little time with friends without having to think about him? She sipped her tea, as if she could hide behind it.

  All three of them instinctively stood to greet the two men.

  ‘Sorry to intrude,’ Fraser said, and then nodded politely to Claudia, seemingly taken aback to see her there. ‘I thought I’d take the opportunity to introduce Yuri Balakirev, originally from Moscow, but now he works in the UK.’ He turned to the charismatic Russian. ‘This is Lizzy, Tony’s wife.’

  Lizzy smiled and extended her hand towards the guest. ‘Welcome to Merevale.’

  He took her hand and performed something between a nod and a bow. ‘I am very happy to meet you.’

  ‘So, are you going to be based in London now?’

  ‘Yes, I will be covering for Fraser. He can then concentrate on Wainford, with Tony. But I am staying for a short holiday until after the party.’

  Fraser smiled and gestured across the table. ‘Jenny’s a local treasure, a very talented florist based at the Lakeside Centre. She also does all the floral arrangements in the hotel.’

  ‘Hello Jenny,’ Yuri said and reached his arm across the table to take her hand.

  Jenny, who had been very bold over her description of him, was now a little timid. ‘Hello.’

  ‘The flowers are beautiful. You are indeed very talented.’

  ‘That’s very kind of you, thank you.’

  ‘And Claudia,’ Fraser said with his eyes fixed on her, ‘is here to do some textile restoration, at Larchwood.’

  Claudia looked at the sexy Russian and smiled as a rare but irresistible opportunity presented itself. But would it be appropriate? Would it seem pretentious? Dare she act on the impulse that was driving her to talk to this handsome Russian, in his own language? She took his outstretched hand and greeted him. The Russian words flowed from her mouth with ease.

  Yuri beamed a smile. ‘Vy govorite po-russki?’ he asked. His unmistakable charisma gushed in her direction.

  ‘Tol’ko nemnogo. Ya uchilas’ yemu kogda byla rebenkom,’ she answered. She wrinkled her nose and gestured with her hand indicating that she was talking of a small child. She then noticed Fraser’s frown. Was he annoyed at her for taking the liberty to indulge in a little Russian conversation? Or perhaps he was just confused because he had learned something about her that he never knew before. She enjoyed this secret little pleasure, felt empowered, but decided that it would be impolite to continue.

  She turned from Yuri and smiled at the group. Jenny’s eyes were wide, and Lizzy was clearly suppressing an amusing thought. ‘Excuse us, it’s just polite conversation. I can’t speak enough Russian to do any more than that.’

  ‘It sounded like a great deal to me,’ Fraser said, his tone verging on brusque.

  ‘You would like me to translate?’ Yuri offered.

>   ‘No, of course not.’

  ‘Congratulations on your new appointment,’ Claudia said. ‘You have a challenging task ahead of you. Doing Fraser’s job won’t be easy…good luck, Mr Balakirev.’

  ‘Please, call me Yuri. I will see you at the party on Friday. We can talk again?’

  ‘I don’t go to parties anymore,’ Claudia stated firmly.

  ‘Excuse us,’ Fraser interrupted them. ‘We should move on.’ He spoke to Yuri, ‘We’ll get some tea in a private lounge. It’s rather cramped in here.’

  Claudia sat down again and stared at Fraser as he walked away. She then turned to Lizzy. ‘Cramped? Was that a dig at me?’

  ‘No, surely not,’ Lizzy said. ‘He looked a bit put out, but he’s probably just in work mode.’

  Jenny stared at Claudia. ‘Well I want you to translate, even if Fraser didn’t. Yuri was hitting on you. I can read Russian body language.’ She wafted her hands impatiently. ‘Come on! What did you say to him?’

  ‘I just said I hoped he enjoyed his stay.’

  ‘There was more than that, spit it out,’ Jenny demanded.

  ‘He commented that I spoke Russian, and I said that I learned a little as a child.’

  ‘And that’s all?’

  ‘Yes, all of it, it’s no big deal,’ Claudia insisted. ‘Just polite chit-chat I learned from my grannie.’

  ‘No fit Russian executive ever chit-chatted to me like that,’ Jenny complained. ‘He didn’t hold on to my hand like he did yours.’

  ‘That’s because mine hasn’t got a gold ring on it. He won’t flirt with a married woman in front of his new boss.’

  Jenny laughed. ‘It was awesome, so impressive. Did you see Fraser’s face? He was gobsmacked.’

  ‘Certainly was,’ Lizzy agreed. ‘Was your grannie Russian?’

  ‘Her mother was. She was called Zara. She and her younger sister, Alyona, were white émigré. They escaped St Petersburg in 1920.’

  ‘Wow!’ Jenny gasped, her eyes wide. ‘Look at me, having tea with a Russian countess.’

  Lizzy was fascinated. ‘So Alyona was your great-grandaunt?’

  ‘Yes. They escaped together, just the two of them, too young and indulged to understand what was happening, or why their parents didn’t leave with them. Alyona was still only 19 when they left. By some miracle, they managed to get to Paris.’