Voice of the Heart

by Barbara Taylor Bradford

  ‘Oh, thanks. Cheers,’ she said abstractedly, and took a large swallow.

  ‘Hey, you’re meant to sip that, otherwise you’ll get loaded,’ he warned mildly.

  ‘No I won’t. I’ve got a hollow leg.’

  ‘That makes two of us.’ He chuckled and so did she. Yet there was a flatness to her laughter and he caught the shadow in her eyes. He studied her. Was she embarrassed because she had been forced to refuse his invitation? A hundred to one she is, old buddy, he answered himself.

  ‘Look here, Francesca, I hope you’re not worrying about Klosters. I’m not offended. Let’s forget it. I want to do some hard skiing, and that wouldn’t be much fun for you, even if you’re a crack skier. I start at dawn, finish at dusk, and you’d probably hardly have the stamina to keep up with—’

  ‘Skiing,’ she repeated, not permitting him to finish.

  ‘Sure. Why do you think I’m going to Klosters?’

  Francesca sat very still. An extraordinary idea took hold. It filled her with a joyful optimism, since it might be the solution she had been seeking. Be cool, be casual, be sophisticated, she cautioned herself. Don’t rush in like a silly schoolgirl. She had no wish to sound forward, or presumptuous, and so she began to structure her next sentence with immense care. Aware that he was waiting for a response, she toyed with her glass, took a sip of the cognac, gaining time. She ignored his question, and asked, ‘Would you really be lonely going to Klosters on your own?’ She was pleased her voice was controlled.

  ‘Sure I would. I told you, I’m used to travelling tandem with Nicky. Besides, I’ve discovered I never have much fun by myself. I like to share places, the scenery, good food and wine, experiences in general.’ He eyed her with curiosity, wondering why she had been prompted to ask the question. Hadn’t he made himself clear initially?

  ‘So what you actually want is a replacement for Nicky?’

  ‘If you want to put it that way, yes, I guess I do,’ he admitted. ‘But naturally it would have to be the right person… Listen, I wouldn’t just pick anybody… at random. That’d be asking for trouble.’ He was filled with wariness, alarmed she might have someone in mind. Her brother for instance. He was not open to suggestions about travelling companions. He said quickly, ‘That’s why I invited you. We’re compatible, we get along, we understand each other.’

  She said, with a faint smile, ‘Oh I know we do, Victor.’ She cleared her throat. ‘Unless I’m wrong, what you’re saying is that the person you go with is as important to you as the place, perhaps even more so and—’

  ‘You’ve got it.’ He looked at her oddly. ‘I’m puzzled. What’s all this leading up to, Francesca?’

  ‘Bavaria.’

  ‘Bavaria?’ he echoed with a puzzled frown. ‘You’ve lost me.’

  Francesca shifted in the chair. A calm smile dimpled her mouth. ‘If you changed your plans and went to a place called Königssee I could go with you. Unless there’s someone else you’d like to invite to Klosters, instead of me. And if there is, I do understand, really I do.’

  ‘There isn’t anyone I’d even consider, let alone ask,’ he assured her truthfully. ‘But I don’t get it, Francesca. If you can go to Königssee with me, why can’t you go to Klosters?’

  ‘Very simply because I don’t need my father’s approval to go to Bavaria. My cousins Diana and Christian live there, and I have an open invitation to visit them any time I wish. The skiing is superb, well into spring, and there’re some marvellous ski runs, as well as a number of fine old inns. Diana would know the best, and she could book you a suite at one of them. Naturally, I’d have to stay with my cousins. But don’t you see, my father couldn’t possibly object. I’d be… I’d be very well chaperoned, wouldn’t I?’

  Victor gave her a long look, his eyes merry. ‘That’s true,’ he agreed, smiling to himself.

  ‘So what do you think?’

  ‘It sounds great. But—’ Now there was a sudden hesitancy in his manner, a pulling back. ‘Look, are you sure you want to go? Could you stand being alone with me for five or six days without getting bored?’

  She met his questioning stare with a steady, level gaze, even though her heart was fluttering wildly at the thought of having him entirely to herself. ‘Don’t be silly, Victor. Of course I wouldn’t be bored and, as you said yourself, we do get along like a house on fire.’

  ‘I had to ask. It strikes me we’ve only talked about your father’s attitude in relation to the trip, not how you felt. You haven’t said you’d like to go.’

  ‘I would, I really would. Anyway, I think you’re right about the mountain air doing me good,’ she volunteered in a matter-of-fact tone, endeavouring to conceal the excitement growing inside her. Noticing the uncertainty lingering on his face, she could not resist adding hurriedly, ‘I wouldn’t have suggested you change your plans if I’d had any qualms about making the trip with you. Now would I?’

  ‘I guess not. It’s settled then.’ He beamed. ‘I’ll talk to the travel agency on Monday morning, and switch the air tickets to Königssee. I’ve never been to Germany, so I’ll find it interesting.’ His face sobered as he recalled the snags that had occurred to him at the outset of the conversation. After ruminating a second, he remarked cautiously, ‘There are a couple of problems though. Hell, I shouldn’t call them problems. Let’s say there are several points I’ve got to get straightened out with you.’

  He stood up, dropped a log onto the fire, returned to the chair, and said, ‘Would you mind flying alone on Tuesday?’

  Francesca was startled. ‘No,’ she said. ‘But why can’t I go with you on Wednesday?’

  ‘You can go on Wednesday, if you wish, but I’d prefer you to take an earlier flight than I do. I don’t think we should be on the same plane.’

  ‘Why ever not?’

  ‘People might misunderstand, if they saw us travelling together. It would be much more discreet for us to make our way separately.’ When he saw she was thrown by these remarks, he said, ‘Hasn’t Katharine told you about my divorce, and Confidential Magazine?’

  ‘She mentioned you were in the middle of a difficult divorce, but she hasn’t said anything about Confidential. I’m probably being very stupid, but I don’t understand the connection.’ Her face was filling with confusion.

  Victor leaned forward, his hands clasped together, his mouth settling into a severe line. Without mincing words, he gave her a rapid and succinct run-down on the magazine and the kind of sensational and damaging stories which appeared in its pages. He repeated Estelle Morgan’s warnings to Katharine and himself, added a quick profile of his estranged wife, Arlene, and elucidated in detail her predilection for causing trouble, plus her tendency to talk rather revealingly to the press.

  ‘Don’t you see, from the things Estelle has told me, I’m convinced I’m a target, and that Confidential is trying to work up a scurrilous piece about me. They’ll seize on anything, whether it’s the truth or not, and they’re not above inventing what they don’t know. Personally, I don’t give a damn about myself. I’ve got a broad back, and a skin like a rhinoceros after living in the public eye for so long. Headlines have never intimidated me, but I mustn’t expose you in any way whatsoever. I can’t allow you to be dragged into a scandal, especially since you’re an innocent bystander. And though the trip is above board, it could very easily be presented in entirely the wrong light. I don’t think your father would appreciate that. And I certainly wouldn’t, Francesca.’

  ‘My God, how awful! But don’t people have any redress: can’t they sue for libel?’

  ‘Some stars and other celebrities have already done so. But most of my friends who’ve been dragged through the mud by them decided to turn a blind eye, believing it smarter to ignore the bad publicity, to rise above it. Still, it’s pretty lousy stuff to live with.’

  She nodded her understanding. ‘I can imagine. Obviously I’ll go on Tuesday, and perhaps it’s a good idea anyway. I can check the hotel Diana books for you, make sur
e you have the best suite. I’ll give her a ring tomorrow, to tell her we’re coming.’

  ‘Good girl. And let’s not alert the locals to my impending arrival. Can you ask her to book the suite in her name?’

  ‘Yes, that’s no problem.’

  ‘There’s one more thing, Francesca,’ he began tentatively, seeking the right words, knowing he must exercise great tact. ‘Are you going to tell your father I’ll be in Bavaria too, when you’re visiting your cousins?’

  ‘I was going to, yes. Don’t you want me to mention it, Victor?’

  ‘No, I don’t think you should. I know how straightforward you are, but leaving something unsaid is not actually lying—’

  ‘It’s lying by omission, isn’t it?’ she suggested, raising an eyebrow.

  ‘Yes, I reckon it is,’ he answered, reminding himself how scrupulous of nature she was. He got up and stood with his back to the fire, gazing out into the room, reflecting, and then he looked down at her. ‘I do have my reasons for asking you not to say anything,’ he began slowly. ‘Very good reasons.’ He wanted to both convince and reassure her, and he said, ‘Look, Francesca, if your father knows I’m in Königssee, Kim will know, and in turn he’ll tell Katharine. Very honestly, I’d prefer her to be in the dark. I want her to think I’m in Klosters. I want everyone to think the same. Except Jake Watson. He has to know where I am, in case he needs to reach me about the picture. But I’m not worried about Jake. He’ll keep his mouth buttoned.’

  Francesca was dismayed. ‘Why on earth don’t you want Katharine to know?’ she cried. ‘She’s my very best friend, and a close friend of yours! She would never breathe a word! Not to anyone. After all, she knows about Confidential, so I would think she’d really be on her guard. In fact, I’m positive she would. Honestly, Victor, I trust her completely.’

  ‘Hell, so do I, Francesca,’ Victor said, sounding emphatic. In all truth, he was not distrustful of Katharine, but being a man of the world he knew how easily a careless slip of the tongue could create untold misery. Also, although he detested covertness, he was genuine in his desire to protect Francesca, and so he considered secrecy imperative.

  He explained this carefully, and she listened, obviously digesting his words. Feeling compelled to dispel any false impression he might have given about Katharine’s integrity, he then proceeded, ‘I know as well as you do that Katharine is exceptionally loyal, and that she wouldn’t intentionally hurt either one of us. But hell, you know how she gets around in London society, and with the show business crowd. Journalists are always on the fringes, or in the midst, of these groups. She might say something accidentally—and to the wrong person. Imagine your father’s distress if that lousy magazine did run some sort of suggestive, disgusting story about us, or if there was gossip among your friends.’

  His eyes rested on her, and he finished gently, ‘I know you want to be open with your father. On the other hand, I think we should be as circumspect as possible, don’t you?’ When she was quiet, he went on, ‘Later, when you’re back in London, you can tell him we ran into each other in the Alps, also say that I spent some time with you and your cousins.’

  Francesca nodded her head slowly, recognizing the soundness of his suggestion. Also, she was no fool, and she understood that if she did not agree he would revert to his original plan. He would go to Klosters. Alone. Her yearning to be with Victor was so forceful it was overcoming her few remaining qualms about her father.

  Victor was watching her, waiting, and wondering, suddenly, why he had invited her to go with him in the first place. Now it seemed like a big mistake.

  As if he had read her mind, he bent towards her and said, ‘Look, I don’t want you to go against your principles. Perhaps we’d better forget the whole idea. I’ll go to Klosters by myself, as I originally intended.’

  Francesca laughed lightly, and exclaimed, ‘I was just about to say you’re absolutely correct. My father would be dreadfully upset if our name was besmirched, so we should be careful.’ She did not give him a chance to answer, and rushed on, ‘I like your suggestion about telling Daddy I ran into you when I get back. It really is the ideal solution. And he won’t be at all surprised I’m going off to see Diana and Christian for a few days. I usually go over once a year. So…’ She took a deep breath. ‘So, I’m on, if you are.’

  ‘Okay!’ he exclaimed. ‘It’s a deal.’ His misgivings of a moment ago dissipated instantly, and he grinned at her. ‘We’ll have a great time, kid.’

  She looked at him quickly. It was the first time he had used any term of endearment when addressing her. Kid was hardly that, but coming from him, it did denote affection. Unless he looks at me and sees Nicky, she thought; but nevertheless, she was pleased. Another thought occurred to Francesca, and she said, ‘I’m going to have to explain the situation to Diana, to be on the safe side. Is that all right?’

  ‘I guess you’ll have to fill her in, so go ahead, but make sure she understand… understands we’re just friends.’

  ‘Naturally,’ Francesca said sweetly, glancing at him through the most innocent of eyes. ‘I wouldn’t want her to get the wrong impression either.’ God forbid, she added to herself, and swallowed a laugh. Victor was as old-fashioned as her father, and equally stuffy, it seemed.

  Victor said, ‘I’ll have your ticket to Königssee by Monday afternoon at the latest. Gus will bring it over, and he’ll drive you out to the airport on Tuesday.’

  ‘Thank you very much. But there isn’t an airport in Königssee. We have to fly to Salzburg and drive across the Austrian border into Germany. But it’s not a long trip, only about an hour.’

  ‘Salzburg it is then. By the way, I’m curious. How come you have cousins living in Germany? When did they move there?’

  ‘They didn’t, they were born there. My father’s elder sister, Arabella, married a German in the late 1920s. It is she who is their mother. Diana and Christian are very English in many ways, and they’re bilingual, so you don’t have to worry about language barriers.’

  ‘That’s a relief,’ he said. ‘And what about your aunt and uncle? Do they live in Königssee too? And will I be meeting them?’ he asked.

  There was a tiny silence before she said in a low voice, ‘No, I don’t think so.’

  Victor was not certain, but he thought he saw the merest trace of sadness trickle into her eyes. He looked at her again, and more closely. The expression had disappeared, if it had been there at all. He told himself he had imagined it, and went on, ‘So give me the dope on your cousins. How old are they? What do they do?’

  ‘I know you’ll like them,’ she said, and thought of Diana and Christian, and then of the tragic events which had engulfed their lives. But she only ever mentioned positives when speaking of her cousins, and she said brightly, ‘Christian is thirty, and he’s very involved with music. He plays the violin beautifully and he’s an expert on Mozart. Diana is twenty-six. She has a boutique in Königssee, and another one in Munich. She surprised us all when she went into business, and her German grandmother was awfully put out. But, credit where it’s due, she’s been ever so successful. Also, Diana’s a great skier, and she’ll be able to show you the best runs.’

  ‘Terrific. I assume Christian also skis.’

  ‘Oh no,’ Francesca said quickly. ‘No, he doesn’t.’

  ‘And what about you? Am I going to have the pleasure of your company at the top of the mountain?’

  Francesca pulled a face, and then she giggled. ‘Not at the top. The bottom, I’m afraid. I’ve never graduated from the nursery slopes, and I seem to spend most of my time slithering around on my backside. I’m very clumsy.’

  ‘I find that hard to believe,’ Victor chuckled. ‘So it looks as if I’m stuck with Diana, or vice versa.’

  ‘That’s right. And I bet she gives you a run for your money.’

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Salzburg airport was relatively quiet on Wednesday morning. Victor Mason walked out of Customs into Arrivals, followe
d by a porter with his luggage, and quickly scanned the few people waiting for passengers. Francesca was not amongst them, and although he was momentarily surprised he was not perturbed. He knew she would appear within minutes, and he headed towards the main entrance, preferring to wait outside in the fresh air.

  The porter deposited his two suitcases next to him, propped the skis in their custom-made leather bag against the wall, and asked him if he needed a taxi. Victor shook his head, thanked him, gave him a generous tip, and then glanced around, his eyes eagerly absorbing the surroundings.

  It was a shimmering sunlit morning. The air was dry and crisp, and for Victor the glorious weather was the most uplifting change after the dreary dankness of London. He took several deep and satisfying breaths, felt a rush of exhilaration, and lifted his head to regard the scenery. In the distance, imposing greyish-purple mountains with white-glazed plateaux and icy, crystal peaks leapt up into a sky that was the clear sharp blue of alpine gentians and without a solitary cloud. It seemed to Victor that everything around him sparkled—the landscape, the sky, the very air itself.

  A tingle of excitement ran through him. He could not wait to get up on the slopes. It was perfect skiing weather. Ambivalent though he had been at various times over the weekend, the last vestiges of doubt now disintegrated, and he knew that despite a few earlier misgivings the trip was going to be a success. He discovered he was in a festive mood and the right frame of mind for a five-day vacation away from the burdens, and problems of the picture.

  The fierce sunlight stabbed at his eyes. He blinked, took out his dark glasses and put them on. He was about to light a cigarette when he heard a horn tooting merrily and repetitively.

  Victor swung his head alertly and spotted a bright red Volkswagen skimming around the corner. It slewed to a standstill and Francesca jumped out, laughing as she flew towards him across the snow, her fresh young face as sparkling and as sunny as the morning. She looked like a vivid bird escaped from its exotic jungle habitat, a flash of brilliance against the snowscape, in a canary-yellow sweater and a matching woollen cap. Both the sweater and the pert little concoction on her head were trimmed with scarlet pom-poms, and she wore yellow ski pants tucked into short leather boots also of bright scarlet.