‘Believe me, it helps. Been there, done that. You too can be just like me.’ Rachael grinned broadly.
Cassie shook her head. ‘I wasn’t looking forward to the trip. But now … God help me!’
‘Being serious though …’ Rachael continued.
‘I was!’ Cassie asserted.
‘I know,’ Rachael grinned. ‘And I also know it’s not easy coming to terms with things, but it has to be the way forward. You’re in no-man’s-land at the moment. When I started recognising Susie as Hannah after my first regression, it was beyond crap. And it got worse before it got better. I needed to know she hadn’t been Hannah to clear my conscience. So after several drinks, and more than one very large joint, I regressed her. Putting into practice what I’d learnt at an amateur evening class seemed like such a good idea at the time.’
‘You didn’t?’ Cassie turned from the counter where they were waiting for their drinks, to stare at Rachael in horror.
Rachael nodded. ‘And you can have no idea how much I’ve regretted it. The effect it had on Susie was …’ Her voice faded away. ‘Having my worst suspicions confirmed was … well …’
She needn’t say more. Cassie knew all too well. ‘You clearly believe all this so how did you come to terms with the guilt?’ That was Cassie’s greatest fear. If this was all proved, she wasn’t sure she ever could. She was praying Worton Hall would provide some kind of miracle. If it could disprove everything, then she wouldn’t have to live with the guilt. Yeah she’d have proven she had issues – perhaps she was having a breakdown? – but that would be treatable, and had to be better than feeling her insides wrenched out every time she so much as looked at George.
‘You do come to terms with it. It isn’t you, after all. It is the past. A past you – Cassie Silbury – were not in control of. And you can learn from it and ensure you don’t make the same mistakes now as you did then. That’s why it’s a good thing. And you’re forgetting that we are now in the amazing position of being able to make amends. There can’t be a better way of detoxing the soul!’
Cassie shook her head at Rachael’s terminology. They picked up their drinks and headed over to a table by the window. Rachael started to giggle as she walked. ‘The look on Rob’s face when he saw George …’ Her amusement died away as she said, ‘Although it served him right for dancing with Susie like that! He’s danced like that with others, too …’ She shook her head briskly. ‘He will be all right don’t you think? He will stay out of George’s way?’
‘If he’s an ounce of sense in him,’ Cassie said, placing her mug on the table and sitting down. Rachael pulled out a chair opposite and sat down, too.
Cassie raised a hand to her forehead and pressed it hard. It was if her head was attempting to nudge her in the direction of something. It had something to do with Rob, she was sure of it. She shook it hard and forced herself to refocus. ‘I’ve never seen George like that before. It was caveman-esque!’
‘Mmmm.’ Rachael started to laugh delightedly. ‘It was, wasn’t it? And it’s exactly what I would have expected. I know what’s meant to happen but I’ve never seen two Soul Mates come together like this …’ She fiddled with a discarded sugar wrapper that had been left on the table by previous occupants. She now said quietly, as if to herself, ‘It’s how it’s meant to be. It’s bound to be different with Matey.’
‘Matey?’ Cassie quizzed, before taking a sip of her coffee.
‘You’re not ready for Matey yet,’ Rachael said with conviction. ‘Anyway … I’d say Susie isn’t going to be too keen on the caveman antics. But then again …’ She smiled. ‘Who couldn’t respond to George Silbury in one of those testosterone fuelled states?’
‘Please! He’s my brother,’ Cassie cried.
‘Don’t worry. I just challenge anyone not to appreciate him. And yep, he is your brother …’ She smiled smugly. ‘Just as he was in the past.’ Cassie narrowed her eyes at her. Rachael was shaking her head and laughing. ‘And I’m betting you were all intent on writing one of your trademark exposés on past life regression, right? It’s not really working out for you, is it? I’ll be very interested to read what you finally produce. You can quote me if you like? It’s got to be good for business.’
Cassie looked at Rachael incredulously now, before muttering, ‘This isn’t about work any more. I need proof for me.’
‘You’re a journalist. You won’t be able resist writing about it all,’ Rachael said, stirring her cream and marshmallows into the chocolate. ‘And by the way, I strongly advise we remain shtum about Freddie and Hannah. Give George and Susie a chance to get their act together without that getting in the way. Suse wouldn’t appreciate it and while all should slot into place, with Suse it’s not going to be remotely that simple and—’
Cassie’s eyes had wandered to the window while Rachael was talking and she had been absently watching two men get out of the car in front of the pub. ‘I’ve zero intention of mentioning—’ With cameras! ‘Paparazzi!’ she cried, leaping from her seat and gesturing towards the window. She now bolted towards the door.
‘This is not good,’ Cassie muttered, as she and Rachael rushed back across the road and started running up the stairs. ‘They’ve gone up the stairs, too. Someone must have tipped them off! And I’ve a horrible feeling they’re from The Herald.’
‘We need help in the back room,’ Rachael said breathlessly to the bouncer on the door. Making their way across and around the dance floor as quickly as possible, Cassie and Rachael finally reached the lounge.
Pushing open the door, Cassie froze. And just caught it on its rebound before it hit her full in the face.
‘Wow!’ Rachael exclaimed from her side, obviously not quite as frozen as Cassie. ‘Susie, Susie, Susie,’ she proceeded to tut, not that she sounded like she was admonishing.
‘You – out!’ Cassie cried, finally coming to her senses and launching herself into the room to stand before the photographer, blocking his view of the oblivious couple.
‘And you!’ Rachael demanded, wagging her finger in the face of the one speaking frantically into his mobile phone.
‘Try and get their cameras and phones!’ Cassie instructed as three bouncers entered the room.
George was vaguely aware of a disturbance, but it was somewhere a long way away. Somewhere outside of their cocoon. Their exquisite cocoon. A cocoon he never wanted to leave. A cocoon that felt so right. How could anything feel this perfect? He nipped Susie’s lip back and smiled under her mouth. ‘You taste amazing. I’m thinking you’re like that moon dust stuff because every atom in my body is on the brink of explosion.’
Susie stiffened in his arms. She’d heard it too. She buried her head in his chest and groaned.
‘George! George! Get yourself sorted! We need to be out of here now! George? For crying out loud! Please don’t make me have to separate you.’
‘Susie? Suse! Time to get yourself together here. You guys are playing to an audience and it’s about to get much bigger.’
Awareness was invading and George had a horrible feeling he knew what was happening.
He attempted to push himself up in the seat. ‘Susie?’ he murmured. ‘Are you respectable?’ He started straightening out her clothing and buttoning up whichever of his shirt buttons he could reach in this position.
When she raised her head from his chest, he took her face in his hands. So beautiful. Her lips swollen, luscious cherry-red, her brilliant grey eyes only now beginning to lose their sensual haze, her hair gloriously ruffled. What he wouldn’t do to wake up to that every morning.
‘Are you okay?’ he asked gently.
She slowly nodded.
But out of the blissful cocoon, George was becoming furious with himself.
And a sense of dread took hold in the pit of his stomach. No matter how they’d physically reacted to each other,
they should have been talking. He should have been gaining her trust, creating firm foundations upon which he could build. Just because he felt a connection, and a bizarre sense of familiarity and … rightness – God it felt so right! – didn’t mean she did. And he couldn’t settle for Susie short-term. Not now he’d found her. It made no sense … yet perfect sense all at the same time. It was so simple. He was following his gut here. And she was the one. He just knew it. And the thought of losing her … What had he done?
And in public?
Chapter Eleven
Susie sat at the kitchen table staring at the morning newspaper before her. She should have already left for school, but wasn’t quite ready to face that particular challenge.
‘Why aren’t you returning George’s calls?’ Rachael demanded, heading out of her bedroom door. ‘Cassie’s been on the phone and says he’s frantic.’
Susie winced. Not just at the words, but at their volume. She was nursing the biggest headache of her life, despite having consumed three mugs of coffee and a couple of paracetamols. No. The worst headache she got was every time she tried to remember those moments in Rachael’s consulting room, when she’d forced an intimate acquaintance upon an unwitting George Silbury. She could remember their last intimacies.
Not that she needed to when they were splattered all over the front page of The Herald, in glorious multicolour.
The piece doesn’t begin to do the experience justice. It was so beyond anything I… She stopped that thought right there, berating herself for such weakness after the talk she’d just given herself. Practicalities. That’s what she was supposed to be focusing on.
Like … why had she been wearing a skirt and G-string? She only had one G-string and she never wore it! That would teach her to get behind on the washing.
‘George apparently worked all night trying to stop the story,’ Rachael was saying. ‘He called in every favour under the sun, threatened to sue, but they still ran with it. He’s really worried about how you’re taking it and needs to talk to you. I got the impression he was coming over if you didn’t start returning his calls.’
That sounded like the incentive needed to get to school. She’d been toying with calling in sick; something she’d never before done. She really wasn’t herself at the moment. She couldn’t be here when—
Her stomach leapt to her mouth as someone rapped on the door. She frantically met Rachael’s eyes, as she turned from the toaster she’d been re-filling.
‘It’s not him,’ Rachael said calmly, heading towards the door with a slice of bread in her hand. ‘But I know who it is.’
‘Don’t open—’
‘Rob! And Matey … hiya you.’ Rachael crouched down to let Matey lick the butter from her fingertips.
‘He must have sneaked out behind me before I’d shut the door,’ Rob muttered.
Susie caught Rob’s eye and promptly groaned as the frustration on his face was replaced with a mischievous grin. ‘And to think I was worried about you there for a while,’ he said, as he crossed the room and came to a halt behind her. ‘Not so anti-George Silbury now are we?’ Draping his arms over her shoulders, he said, ‘Oh Suse! You should have stuck to dirty dancing with me. Ours didn’t make the front page.’
He grunted as her elbow made blind contact. She winced, wondering just where she’d hit, particularly when he sank into the neighbouring chair.
When he finally raised his head, he squeaked, ‘I suppose I deserved that. Don’t suppose you’d react well if I phoned in to claim the twenty grand price on your head?’
‘God help me, Rob! Do not push me. I’m not in the mood.’ Susie kicked her chair out violently.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said, reaching out for her arm before she could leave the table. ‘I didn’t mean to upset you. But you aren’t half getting yourself into some right bloody pickles of late.’
‘It’s not as bad as all that,’ Rachael observed, picking up the newspaper.
‘No it’s not,’ Rob said. ‘It really isn’t. You’ve a lovely bum, Suse.’ Susie no longer regretted using her elbow. ‘I’m serious. Don’t look at me like that. I was trying to say something nice to make you feel better.’ No he bloody wasn’t!
‘Nobody can recognise you from this picture,’ Rachael continued. ‘It wasn’t your face, facing the camera. In fact, because of what was, it’s hard to see anything else. Nobody will recognise you, and nobody will be able to claim the reward for your identification. I suggest you talk to George and—’
‘I’m going to work!’ Susie snapped, finally making her escape and heading to her room to pick up her bag.
The last thing she heard before she slammed the flat door hard behind her was Rob’s words: ‘Just hit me with it, okay? Whatever the hell is going on, just hit me with it. Then I’ll make up my own mind.’
George stopped pacing his living room the instant Cassie hung up the phone. ‘How is she? What did Rachael say?’ he demanded.
‘How do you think she is? You’re hardly taking this well either.’
George brushed his hands repeatedly through his hair and resumed pacing. This was all his fault. He knew the risks of being in the public eye and yet he’d exposed Susie. And in such a fashion. He’d been weak. Unable to resist. Somehow, deep down, he’d known how kissing her would feel. He’d been craving it. And, dear God, it had blown his mind!
‘I must say,’ Cassie said, picking up the newspaper from the coffee table. ‘From a journalist’s point of view, the name of the venue couldn’t have been any better: the Saint George & Horn. It’s a sub-editor’s wet dream. There are so many headline possibilities and I’m afraid they’re all going to be out there in the coming days. I didn’t expect the best play on words from The Herald, and clearly we didn’t get it. I mean, “George gets his horn out?”’
George grimaced again. ‘But I didn’t! And it’s the picture!’ he blustered. ‘Susie splashed around for all to see. Filthy perverts getting off on her.’ He felt the growl rise. ‘She’s there in a double page spread with the, “Do you know this woman?” appeal.’
‘And then there’s Porsche’s contribution,’ Cassie murmured.
Yes. Then there was Porsche’s contribution. George got his phone out and switched it on again. He had countless unanswered messages waiting for him from Michael, Francis, his mum, his brothers, Porsche – God help him, he’d throttle her. What the hell did she think she was playing at?
But none from Susie.
He paused from his pacing and called her number again. Voicemail. He left yet another message. ‘Susie. Please call me.’ He was as desperate as he sounded.
He hung up and switched his phone off. He was supposed to be on set. Filming had been scheduled to start two hours ago and they weren’t going to abandon their efforts to track him down. They’d already sent people around to hammer on his door. Well, they could hammer away.
He stood motionless. His fears firmly taking hold.
‘She’s not going to give me another chance. I know it. We should have talked. I should have gained her trust. I should have reassured her that this wasn’t a quick romp. But no. I acted like a rampant, adolescent school boy.’
And then it hit home.
‘Bloody hell, Cassie. I think I’ve lost her!’ He sank to the sofa, with his head in his hands.
Cassie was at his side, trying to prise his hands from his head. ‘George? George? Look at me. She probably just needs time.’
‘Why does Susie make me feel like this?’ He turned his face to meet Cassie’s, but she’d looked away. It made no sense at all. He hardly knew her for goodness sake.
But it didn’t feel that way. It felt like she was his. The one. Not that he’d ever believed in that before. But he did now! Last night, with her in his arms …? He had never felt anything like it. And it had been so much more than physical. Oh, his bo
dy had reacted to her, there was no question about that. It had reacted to her like it had never reacted to another. But he’d felt … at peace. At journey’s end. Whole. Complete. That this woman was the purpose of his entire existence. It was insane. But it had felt so damned right. And no one had ever made him feel like that, physically or emotionally. He’d always enjoyed women. But last night …? She’d ruined him for anyone else. Not that he would ever want anyone else. He wanted Susie. No other. And he’d just cocked everything up! And the idea of losing her was excruciating.
Cassie finally returned her gaze to him and said, decisively, ‘If you’re serious about Susie, prove it. Don’t give up at the first hurdle. The best things in life are worth fighting for. God almighty!’ she exclaimed. ‘You’ve got me quoting proverbs. I’m an award-winning journalist and you’ve got me … the things I do for you! And if you can’t win her, then she isn’t worth it, George. Do you understand me? If you’re meant to be together, and you’ve given it your all, then you will be. But who said life was easy? Again and again! You’re killing me here.
‘I’ve a good feeling though, sweetie. I really do. But it doesn’t look like she’s simply going to land in your lap, no matter what might be—’ Her voice stopped abruptly, before starting up again. ‘Of all the girls in the world, you had to choose one who isn’t after you because you’re George Silbury. That makes her worth fighting for. So what is it? Give up and hit the bottle like I did a while back, or fight for someone truly worth having?’
He reached out and hugged her. He needed the comfort. And he had to snap himself out of this. He had to find a way forward. But what? He had no idea how he was supposed to win Susie. Did she even want to be won? But last night … Last night she’d felt it, too. She must have done. It was too damned powerful to be one way.
‘I suppose now is not the time to tell you Mum’s on the case?’
He groaned.
‘Mmmm. She considers you were careless, let your guard down and that such “uncharacteristic distraction” might mean there’s finally hope of seeing you settled.’
Romancing the Soul Page 10
