by Mandy Baggot
Al nodded then, dabbed at his eyes with the serviette. ‘Course. ‘Course we do.’
‘Then we have to accept that Mark isn’t the right person for Lacey. That she …’
Ellen stopped mid-sentence as a figure across the room at the central buffet island caught her eye. Her breath was already trapping in her lungs by the time she focussed. She recognised him from the shape of his back, the way he held himself, ramrod straight, his head high like he thought he was someone special. But it couldn’t be him. It was impossible. She closed her eyes for a second as the panicked feeling started to rise up through her. This was stress. This was a classic overreaction to what was happening in her life – the phone calls from Milo at the office, Lacey ending the engagement, her dad being here.
Ellen opened her eyes again and this time she got a full frontal view. Her fork dropped from her hand. It was him. She wasn’t imagining it. Ross Keegan was in the hotel.
42
‘… and clap your hands together like this! Yes! Well done everybody!’ Dasha applauded manically as the children from the kids’ club finished the song.
Yan had waited through four renditions of the German song and now only had five minutes to get his message across. He stepped into the room as all the children began high-fiving the tall man dressed up as a mermaid.
‘I will see you all here tomorrow or tonight with your parents for karaoke, yes? Tell them they must sing or they do not love you,’ Dasha said, laughing.
‘Dasha,’ Yan stepped forward and touched his arm. Contact would hopefully draw him away from the legions of children who were still demanding his attention.
‘Look, everybody, it is Mr Yan! Say hello to Mr Yan everybody!’
All the children turned to him and said hello in several different languages, with toothy smiles, red cheeks, bright eyes.
‘Dasha … ’ Yan started again.
‘Do you think we should get Mr Yan to dress up?’
Dasha’s expression was all too eager and, needing only a little encouragement, the children began diving for the dressing-up trunk and pulling out items of clothing. This was the last thing he needed.
‘Dasha, can I speak with you about karaoke?’ he tried again.
‘I know! Karaoke is my best favourite and tonight I am in charge.’ He wrapped a pink scarf around Yan’s neck.
‘It is going to be great night but … could I collect song sheets from people? Sergei, he is better at laptop equipment than me.’
Dasha let out a booming laugh. ‘Why you say this?’ He shook his head. ‘Sergei has top hat and suit for occasion like this. He has to be the announcer.’
‘But …’ Yan didn’t know what to say next. How did he explain without making too much of an issue out of it? He swallowed. ‘Before you arrive I always go into audience to get them to choose songs.’
A boy aged about five tied a sarong around his waist and a girl slipped a glove onto his hand.
‘Yan, look at me.’ Dasha paused, pouting, one hand on his hip, his uniform shorts pulled high like hot pants. ‘I was born to get people to do things they are not natural with. I am the crazy guy. How can anyone say no to me?’
How did he put up an argument against that? Out of the corner of his eye he saw a blond haired boy heading towards him with a rubber face mask. He quickly peeled the glove off and started to untie the sarong.
‘You are nervous for this?’ Dasha asked.
Now Dasha was looking suspicious, the very last thing he’d wanted to happen. Yan shook his head. ‘No. I just want night to be perfect for you.’
The chance was lost, Dasha’s decision made. He had no idea what he was going to do. That knowledge was sending unwanted pinpricks of fear across his back. He tried to keep his cool.
Dasha’s face broke into a smile. ‘Me too! We have so much fun!’ He slapped his hands against Yan’s face, squeezing his cheeks.
* * *
‘I … I have to go.’
Ellen stood up, knocking her knife off the table and onto the floor. She was floundering, stuck between trying to hide her presence and moving too quickly, creating attention. Her fork followed the knife’s lead as she bent to pick up her bag.
‘What? Go where? You’ve not finished your dinner,’ Al remarked.
She nodded at him, moving a sheet of her hair over her face and turning away from the buffet. ‘I know, I just remembered …’ Think, Ellen, think. ‘I signed up for boules this afternoon and it starts … any second.’
‘Boules?’ Al looked confused. ‘Boules is more important than dinner with your old man?’
‘No, of course not. I …’
Her heart was racing, beating so hard in her chest and throat it was overwhelming her. It felt as if every blood vessel in her body was pounding for release. She had to get out of the restaurant, get some fresh air, give herself a chance to calm down.
‘I think I’m going to be sick.’
No one argued with ensuing vomit. Ellen didn’t say any more. Ducking her head down she raced, as inconspicuously as she could, towards the door, silently praying Ross didn’t see her.
She hurried, like a speed walker, out of the lobby, and down the steps. Only when she hit the main pathway through the grounds did she stop and take a breath that almost sent her sideways. Ross Keegan was in Corfu. He was in the hotel restaurant, obviously looking for her. He had come to Greece to confront her.
At that thought, more panic rode like a surfer over her and a spinning feeling filled her head. This couldn’t be happening. Not here. Not now. She’d been telling herself that here in Corfu only good things happened, the real world was far behind her, thousands of miles away back in England. She’d been clinging on to the two precious days left here in this paradise, with Yan, not forgetting all her troubles but certainly being able to compartmentalise them for the first time. She leant against the low wall that bordered the path and tried to find some balance.
* * *
Yan was running on adrenalin and the fact that he had to get back down to the court for boules. He needed to think of another option to get out of the karaoke that night apart from running away or feigning sickness. He didn’t like to let people down. But he couldn’t let himself be compromised.
As he joined the central path he saw Ellen. She was leaning hard against the wall, her eyes closed. She was far from the carefree person he’d said goodbye to earlier that morning. She looked as though without the support of bricks and cement, she would be down on the floor. Something had happened. Perhaps Lacey was more ill than they had first thought. He picked up his pace.
‘Ellen?’ he greeted, reaching her.
Her eyes snapped open and there was an immediate look of fear on her face. But then her body sagged, relaxing a little, her palms flat against the brickwork as she leaned into the wall a bit more.
‘You are OK?’ Yan asked. He wanted to reach out and make contact but they were in the middle of the main path with residents passing them by both ways en route to the restaurant and the pools.
She shook her head. ‘No, I’m not OK.’ She shivered, her eyes darting over towards the restaurant.
‘What has happen?’ He was really concerned now. She looked like someone might have died. No colour in her face, eyes wide, brimming with, as yet, unspent tears.
‘God, I don’t know what to do. I mean, what do I do?’
She was talking as much to herself as she was to him and not explaining anything. He watched her put her head in her hands and shake it. He couldn’t bear this. He reached out, rested his hand in her hair. At the motion she sat back up, forcing him to retract.
‘Ross is here,’ she stated, the frightened look still there.
For a second he couldn’t compute what she’d said. Ross? Ross, the man who had asked her to marry him. Ross, the man who had stolen from her. Was here? The two things didn’t go together.
‘What?’ He needed more explanation before he said anything else.
She shook her head again.
‘He’s here, Yan. I saw him in the restaurant. Ross Keegan. The one I told you about.’
That was more clear but still with no explanation. How was this possible? Yan swallowed, not knowing what to say to her.
‘You see him?’ he questioned.
She nodded her head.
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes.’
‘What did he say to you?’
* * *
It was a simple enough question and one she should have expected him or anyone else to ask. She didn’t know how to answer.
‘I …’ she began.
Yan was looking at her, waiting for her to give him something. This wonderful man, this person who had changed her outlook on things in just a few short days. She shook her head and shrugged her shoulders at the same time.
‘I ran. I left my dad and my meal and just left. I didn’t want him to see me.’
As the words came flooding out she realised how they sounded. She’d fled, letting his presence dominate her, just like it had when they were together. She’d crumbled, just as she had when he’d taken her mother’s money. She’d proved just how weak Ross’ actions had made her.
Yan wasn’t saying anything but was looking at her with pity in his eyes. This action was a perfect showcase of her shamefully vulnerable personality. She couldn’t think straight but she needed to. She needed to get it together and think how to handle this. The hotel wasn’t so big that she could avoid him for the next two days. Knowing him, he would ask for her room number and hunt her down if he had to. That was exactly his style and he wouldn’t have travelled all the way to a Greek island, to the hotel she was staying at, just to top up his tan. He meant business. It was a serious situation and she needed to own it.
‘He is here to ask about what you do with your work?’
She nodded, wiping at her eyes with her fingers. ‘I guess so. He phoned me, a few days ago. Then Lacey had all this trouble with Mark and he kept ringing so we both switched our phones off.’
Had Milo tried to warn her? She could only assume it was him who had divulged her location. No doubt Ross had been into the office making threats and being thoroughly rude to everybody. She could imagine her secretary, Jolie, crying the second his voice was raised above kettle boiling level.
‘This is such a mess,’ she said, toying with her hands.
Yan shook his head. ‘No. This is chance to tell him why you do this. To say that he deserve this. To tell him how you feel.’
She could do that. Couldn’t she? What was the alternative? She let him ride roughshod over her again? Taking, stealing, grabbing hold of her life and turning it upside down? She wasn’t that same person now.
‘I am with you,’ Yan said.
Just four small words but they filled her up immediately, made the panic lessen. Until she looked up and saw Ross leaving the restaurant and heading their way.
‘I can’t, Yan. I can’t see him … not yet.’ She took his arm and pulled him away from the main path, desperately shaking her hair over her face in a bid for disguise.
She saw Yan looking back at the person approaching as she hurried them through the complex towards the alternative track to the main pool. ‘Yan, please.’
‘This is him?’
His voice sounded edgy. She nodded. ‘Yes.’
‘I see him before. He was by pool today. We hit his table with volleyball and spill the drink. He is angry man.’
It was an acutely simple yet accurate description. She only wondered just how much anger he was going to show once they were face to face.
43
‘He managed to get a flight back later tonight so reception have called him a taxi.’
The whole time Lacey was telling her the details of her heart-to-heart with Mark, Ellen was sitting at the dressing table, brushing her hair, waiting for the knock on the door. It was going to come. It was just a case of how long it would take Ross to track her down. He only had to ask at reception. She was surprised he hadn’t turned up already. Or was it all about the game-playing?
‘I think he knew I wasn’t going to change my mind.’ Lacey sighed as she paced. ‘But it was good talking face-to-face. And you were right. I shouldn’t have broken up with him by iMessage. He deserved better.’
Ellen nodded, her eyes out of the door and over the balcony, scanning the residents as they left the poolside.
‘Is everything OK with you?’ Lacey asked.
Ellen turned her attention away from the view to find her sister analysing her. Lacey had a penetrating look that instantly made her feel guilt-ridden. Ellen nodded her head again and straightaway regretted it. What was she doing? She had to tell someone about this. In hours, minutes or moments, Ross Keegan was going to find her and ask her what the hell she’d been doing stealing money from his company accounts. She had never wanted her family to know what he’d done to her but now that she was in danger of being in serious trouble, about to face this man’s wrath, perhaps it was the right moment to let it all out and share some of the burden with the people that cared for her.
‘Ross is here,’ she whispered. Her voice was so quiet she wasn’t even sure Lacey had heard her say anything. The quizzical look remained on her sister’s face.
‘Ross Keegan is here. The man who asked me to marry him,’ Ellen repeated.
‘Oh my days! To ask you to get back with him? How did he find you? It’s a bit over the top, isn’t it? Flying out here when you’re on holiday. Some might call that stalker behaviour. What do you think?’
She thought she wanted to get on the night flight home with Mark, now that all the bad stuff she’d left in England had followed her here.
‘There’s more to it than I told you, Lacey.’
‘Like what? You’re freaking me out a bit now.’ Lacey sat down on the edge of her bed.
‘He did something awful to me. Something really awful.’ She paused before continuing. ‘I should have told you and Dad but I didn’t. Instead I did something awful back to him.’
She looked at Lacey. Her sister was wide-eyed, hanging on her every word and she wondered how this news was going to change their relationship. The second she told her what she’d done she would go from being the sister who was always perfectly in control of everything, to someone who had made more terrible, stupid mistakes than she had.
‘I want to know,’ Lacey said. ‘Tell me all of it and then we’ll go and find him and I’ll break his balls. Because whatever he’s done to you, Ells, I’m going to have to kick his head in.’
* * *
The red cover of one of the karaoke books lay on the table next to the laptop. Yan opened it up and stared at the pages inside. Letters and numbers, hundreds of them, all merging into one big random mess. He couldn’t do this. Who was he trying to fool here?
He turned the book back over and watched as guests began to gather at the poolside restaurant. He had just over an hour to think of something or everything would become abundantly clear.
And then he saw him. Ross Keegan. Overdressed in tailored trousers and a blue short-sleeved cotton shirt, making his way to a corner table. That angry man, the one who had stolen all that Ellen had left of her mother except her memories. He felt the tension move through his body and suddenly he knew exactly what to do.
Yan picked up a carafe of red wine from the tray by the bar and made his way across to the dinner section.
He wasn’t quite sure how he was going to do this. The most satisfying method would be to pour the wine all over his head. But a vengeful act would get reported to Tanja and his job would be in danger. All he needed was a fuss, some commotion and this man was perfectly capable of making it without very much persuasion.
Yan walked with stealth, making sure he wasn’t seen until the right moment. Silently, he pulled a chair across his path and, just as Ross Keegan reached his hand out for the glass of beer on his table, Yan faked a trip.
He aimed the contents of the carafe at the pale tailored trousers a
nd fell to the tiled floor with an emphasised groan.
‘Shit!’ Ross was up and out of his seat. ‘What the hell have you done?!’
Red wine dripped from Ross’ crotch, down both legs of his trousers, pooling on the floor. He flapped his soiled hands around, spraying droplets of red liquid onto the tablecloth.
Yan got to his feet. ‘I am so very sorry, sir. I fall over chair and …’
‘I don’t believe it. You’re the idiot who knocked that volleyball into my table earlier and ruined my shorts!’
‘That was not me. That was my colleague.’
He needed Ross to be slightly more irate, make more noise so the restaurant manager would come over. He just needed to be sent somewhere else for the night. He could deal with any reprimand, he just couldn’t deal with karaoke.
‘I bloody know it was you. Where’s your superior? You’re a liability.’
‘I think you overreact a little maybe?’
‘Overreact?! How dare you speak to me like that? I want the manager, I want the manager now and I want you removed.’
* * *
When Ellen had finished telling the story both she and Lacey had shed tears. It wasn’t raking over it all again that had made her cry, it was the fact that as she told the story, she realised how wrong she’d been to shoulder it alone. And how Lacey might feel about that.
‘I could get into real trouble, Lace. If he reports me to the police it’s theft. If he reports me to the ACCA I’ll never be able to practice accountancy again.’
Lacey shook her head, backwards and forwards. The movement and vacant expression reminded her of a doll their nan had brought back from Blackpool once. Scraps of hair glued into place, googly eyes and a head that rocked left and right. It had scared them both and had been resigned to the back of the cupboard in their bedroom. If only she could do that with her problems. Shove them in a black bin liner and lock the door on the wardrobe of her life.
