‘It could be worse. It kind of explains a lot of things and … You know? I can live with Soul Mates.’ Happily live with Soul Mates. ‘I’m not so sure about the labelling … or the cherries, but …’
He shook his head pointedly at Rachael, clearly about to interrupt. On the basis of the last several minutes he knew exactly what she’d be interrupting with. ‘I am not satisfying your curiosity as to our sex life! Do not ask me again. And don’t even go there,’ he warned, as she opened her mouth again, ‘Even in the name of science! You’ve sold me on this one, okay, so I suggest you quit while you’re ahead.’
Not that it had been a hard sale. He wanted to believe in Soul Mates. Needed to believe in them. It was comforting. To be frank, he’d currently believe in faeries if it allowed him the promise of more than one life with Susie. And it confirmed what he’d always known: they were meant to be together. Yes, he’d – he watched Cassie and Rachael exchange a look – grab hold of this one. Because it was impossible to shake that feeling that something far less comforting was afoot.
‘As for the other …’ Cassie’s voice, uncharacteristically high, fizzled out.
George sitting next to her on the sofa, leant forward, putting his elbows on his knees. He felt sick. This was all in his head, it had to be. It hadn’t been a good day. He was getting himself all worked up for nothing. And this would have absolutely nothing to do with that damned sixth sense!
He looked up as Cassie’s silence continued. She seemed to have been rendered mute and slowly shook her head. The expression on her face …
Rachael moved over to perch on the arm of the sofa nearest to Cassie. Gently touching her shoulder, she murmured, ‘We’ll do this together.’
Redirecting her attention to him, Rachael asked, ‘How much do you remember?’
George closed his eyes. He knew she was talking of Freddie here and … too damned much! And this was nuts. He now had a whole new set of bloody memories and had a horrible feeling it was getting bigger with each breath he took. Certainly looking at these two hadn’t helped on that front … Kathryn and Tessa? That had been her name.
And the memories of Kathryn were not good. And then there were the flashbacks: horrific, agonising, irrepressible. No wonder he and Susie were haunted by loss.
But the betrayal stuff that had so troubled Susie … she’d been wrong. The flashbacks were making that painfully clear. So wrong. Freddie hadn’t had the chance to put the record straight, but George would. And perhaps that would make all this easier on Susie? She’d been haunted by betrayal for a decade. Perhaps it would help with her insecurities, with reassuring her he—?
‘Kathryn was …’ Cassie had evidently found her voice in at least some form. It was enough to pull George from his reflections and he didn’t let her continue.
He shook his head and reached out to clasp her hand. ‘She wasn’t you, Cassie.’ He knew that much and realised now how it must have been screwing her up. This all had serious screwing-up potential. And how selfish was he? He hadn’t stopped to think how Cassie might be feeling. Finding out you were Kathryn. He wouldn’t wish that on his worst enemy.
He squeezed her hand. ‘The past is the past. Kathryn Montague is not you, so not you. Frederic Montague isn’t me. Susie isn’t Hannah Marsh. Rachael isn’t Tessa … I don’t think I ever knew her surname.’ He spared a glance at Rachael to apologise. ‘And thank God we aren’t!’ He grinned in an attempt to get a smile from Cassie. ‘I’d have to hate you if you were Kathryn.’
But it was impossible to keep that grin on his face. Internally he shuddered at the idea of living the agony that had become Freddie’s life. And he evidently once had. The remembered pain was excruciating, but imagining how he might feel losing Susie, as Freddie had Hannah? He roughly pushed the torturous thoughts away. Swallowing hard he continued.
‘Whatever happened in the past between those people, is just that: the past. And dwelling on it really can’t be healthy. Cas? God, Cas, is this what has been getting to you? Why you’ve been avoiding me? Tell me you didn’t think I’d blame you? You can’t possibly be held accountable for stuff that happened hundreds of years ago when you weren’t you! I think no differently of you. I never could.’
Cassie closed her eyes, shook her head and clutched his hand.
‘You mustn’t dwell, Cas. We have our lives to lead. And despite all this crap, the present is good. In fact, it’s bloody amazing. And the future is going to be more of the same. Come on, Sis! I grant you finding out about Kathryn couldn’t have been good. But think about it. I’m getting married and that pretty much guarantees Mum’s preoccupation, so she’ll be out of your hair for …’
George’s voice trailed off and that brick in his stomach instantly became replaced with a breeze block; one that descended at great velocity knocking all the air out of him on impact. Cassie had turned towards him and her face was … Jesus, she looked like someone had died. And her bottom lip was … trembling? Cassie’s bottom lip did not tremble. Except when he was being a shit as a child and then – George swallowed painfully. Now was not the moment to explore that thought. Was this why he’d so disliked Cassie as a kid? Had he recognised her as Kathryn and until he’d known her as Cassie …? He’d been right about horses … and water. He’d always hated the stuff … and now? Knowing what he now did courtesy of the excruciating flashbacks … The idea of Susie near water …
George wasn’t quite sure how much more of this he could take.
‘Cassie?’ he managed to rasp out, refocusing on her. ‘What can possibly—?’
‘I’m so sorry, George, so sorry. This is all my fault. And you should blame me. I don’t know how to stop whatever has been set in motion. How to stop them! I just don’t know. I’ll do anything. And I mean anything. I never ever meant for this to happen. And I know I’m going to have to tell you, but have no idea how and—’
Rachael calmly interrupted. ‘Why don’t we start with Porsche and Michael before we tackle that? Leading with that would … Look, even I struggled with it.
‘Porsche and Michael are clearly upping the anti, even without our help this time around. But despite what they’re doing, the cycle has to break. It has to. Too many things are different this time around. I don’t care how many of us are around, how many things are repeating – it has to break. It should have already broken. No, it should never ever have been there in the first place. Because it can’t happen. But it is. I’m not even going to add Fate into the equation because they will have their own fate. They have to! There’s no way they could have got muddled up. We need to forewarn, avoid and … wait … patiently and without panic … for it to break. And it will. It so will!’
George looked at Rachael incredulously. Of course he’d been getting into a state. Rachael bloody Jones was on the scene!
George only had to look at what Cassie had become since meeting the woman to see how hazardous to health she was. Look what she’d done to Susie a decade ago. Susie had known. Her advice had been plain as day. ‘Don’t talk to Rachael about this. She’ll do your head in and, at the end of the conversation, you won’t know which way is up. And absolutely never ask her for an explanation. You’ll do it once and never make the same mistake again.’
Michael and Porsche? Cycles breaking? Fate? Susie had warned him of Rachael’s unnatural preoccupation with the latter. Shaking his head he turned to share his incredulous gaze with Cassie. But she … She’d reverted to that haunted look of hers. The one that seemed to indicate crap was going down.
No. The one she wore regularly since starting to hang out with Rachael Jones!
And Rachael was continuing. ‘They’re the baddies, George. We’re the goodies. We were baddies but are good guys this time around. They’re still bad. Rotten to the core I’d say, and seemingly determined on separating you and Susie just as they did in the past. And they don’t seem to need our help th
is time. Cassie’s found out all this stuff on Michael and, just as then, it’s all down to money. And then, of course, there’s Porsche. She so wants you and, more likely than not, Michael has been feeding her lies because even she can’t be that stupid.’
Rachael slid off the end of the sofa and patted Cassie’s leg. ‘Shuffle up!’ When there was no response she forced herself into the small gap between Cassie and the edge of the sofa. ‘Cassie, why don’t you tell him what you found out about Michael?’
When she was met with silence, Rachael continued, ‘Fifteen million pounds worth of debts. Gambling, terrible property investments, and his expensive little drug habit isn’t helping. And some of the low-life characters he owes money to … even Cassie didn’t like digging deeper on them. Although she did in the hope it would reveal something that would get him locked up, but so far zilch. But it’s safe to say he has never needed his cut of your earnings more. We reckon he’s worried you’ll do fewer films now because of Susie, whereas of course, were you with Porsche he’d no doubt be looking to become her manager too and end up doubling his income rather than seeing it shrink. It’s hardly like you’d want to take time out to spend with the witch. In fact you’d probably want to work more. In films she wasn’t in! On the other side of the world! For months and months on end! It’s a no-brainer decision for him really when he needs the money. Susie – Porsche, Susie – Porsche …’
George held up his hand and shook his head. Enough was enough. His brain was already struggling with the challenges of the day. The last thing it needed was to listen to another word uttered from the mouth of Rachael Jones.
He’d wondered about Michael’s financial situation. He knew about the drugs but … but … ‘Goodies and baddies? Michael and Porsche? What do Michael and Por…’ George’s words trailed off on a frown … He was experiencing a nagging …
‘George?’
Cassie was clearly speaking again. He held his hand up. He needed some time here. He needed to try and make sense out of what his brain was trying to tell him.
Porsche and Michael seemed …
‘This is so impressive!’ he heard Rachael cry, and he felt Cassie’s hand on his knee.
He closed his eyes and took a very large gulp. ‘Have you anything stronger than coffee?’ he managed to finally ask.
‘You recognise them too!’ Rachael exclaimed, heading into the kitchen area. ‘The memories must be coming at you like juggernauts. I didn’t expect you to …’
But George was engulfed. Memories consumed him. He saw Freddie make mincemeat of Matthew Argylle’s evil, smug face after he suggested he make Hannah his mistress. He then saw himself give Michael two black eyes for suggesting he get Susie out of his system and what he should do to do so. The memories were interspersed, playing over and over.
Rachael’s ongoing words sounded far away and he only half heard them. ‘I’ve never met them, but Cassie identified Michael as Matthew Argylle and our dear darling Porsche as Prudence.’
George clenched his eyes painfully tight. Freddie was hearing Prudence Argylle’s vicious lies and innuendo in a crowded ballroom. Then George was listening to Porsche’s venomous voice utter her fabrications on the show last night. It flickered and was back with Freddie.
Prudence had lured him into a room and …
Not this one again! This was the one that wouldn’t stop playing and … Hannah saw them together. She thought the kiss Prudence engineered was real.
And then Hannah was fleeing.
It was dark. Freddie couldn’t find her. George’s fists clenched tightly into his hair. He didn’t want to see any more. He knew where it was going.
He willed it to stop but … Oh God … He was pulling Hannah’s body from the lake. She lay lifeless in his arms. He reverently moved her hair from her face and wiped her cheek of mud. He covered her face in kisses, all the time desperately begging her to wake up and rocking himself backwards and forwards, backwards and forwards.
‘Oh my angel, my dearest, darling angel.’ Backwards and forwards. ‘Why did you lose faith in me, my love? I was true to you. How could I ever not be?’
This time though, rather than the scene petering out, it morphed into one of his own memories.
It was the consulting room. Susie was in his arms, drenched, muddy and … looking half-drowned. ‘Why did you lose faith in me, my love? I was—’
‘Enough!’ George cried, leaping from his seat. He started pacing furiously around the room, tugging afresh at his hair. This was going to send him over the edge. He had to find a way to stop the horrific flashbacks – they weren’t even his! Yet some of them were. And that was terrifying him because there were similarities. And he didn’t want there to be any similarities between the past and the present, between Freddie and Hannah and him and Susie. Freddie had lost Hannah.
A glass appeared before his face. He focused enough to take in Rachael holding it out to him. He took it and swallowed its contents in one. And gagged. Baileys? A whole glass of Baileys? He shuddered and shoved the empty glass back into the waiting hand and wiped away the moustache from his upper lip with the back of his hand.
But it had snapped him to some kind of sense.
‘I’ve just realised,’ he growled, pointing an accusing finger at Rachael. ‘This is all down to you! You screwed Susie up a decade ago and have left her struggling with the aftermath, you’ve messed with my sister and now you’re torturing me. And yet it’s me you chose to call psychotic. You are the dangerou—’
‘I may have mentioned “repressed psychotic tendencies”. I never called you psychotic though! It was mean, granted, but I was working to get you two together. It was either that or explaining about Freddie and Hannah and you weren’t ready to—’
‘Guys this really isn’t the time,’ Cassie said, wearily. ‘We’ve got to find a way to stop Porsche and Michael and perhaps if we work together, we’ve some kind of chance of— ’
George spun around to face his sister. ‘You know, I’ve had enough. You’re both as bad as each other. What has happened to you? So Porsche and Michael were the big bad Argylles in the past. I get that, okay. But so what? Get over it. It was the past! It has nothing to do with who they are today, just as with you and Kathryn!
‘I don’t want to know anything more about the past. Susie and I will sort things from now on in. We’ll reassure each other. On a desert island’ – minus the water – ‘as far away from the two of you as possible.’ Make it Australia.
He shook his head and let out an exasperated sigh. ‘You need to look at yourself long and hard though, Cassie, you really do. Look what’s happening to you. And have a go at listening to yourself. You aren’t sounding remotely … For God’s sake, the past is the past, but you’ve managed to get yourself to a point where you’re confusing it with the present. I know this does your head in. I know! But … Look, when I’m a little calmer, on a day other than today, I’ll help you, okay? Help you sort things out in your head. But … I’m sorry … Tonight I’ve had more than enough of … Tonight I need … I’m … God you’ve done it. The two of you have managed to completely do my head in!’
George turned and headed towards the bedroom, shaking his head and muttering as he went.
‘You have to listen to me about Porsche and Michael. You must—’
He pointedly shook his head and continued walking.
‘History is repeating itself, George. That and the letters is how we knew about the horse. I’m so sorry.’
Chapter Twenty-Seven
‘George, please! There is nothing you can say that will make me change my mind. I’m coming to Leicestershire with you. Full stop. And look, there’s the “Welcome to Leicestershire” sign.’
Susie pointed out of the passenger window of George’s car at the road sign they were now zooming past. ‘Thank you, I’m very pleased to be here.’
>
She turned back to George to say, ‘You are going to have to get used to it, you know.’
It was the Easter holidays, no school, time she could spend with George. He’d tightened his grip around the steering wheel and taken his eyes off the road to look at her and there was that dreadful look in them again. The one she knew he tried so hard to keep under wraps, but which nevertheless kept making an appearance. She was never going to forgive Rachael for this.
‘I’ll be filming the lake scene, Susie. The lake scene. Do you have any idea what that is doing to me?’
‘George,’ she said more gently. ‘How many times have we covered this? I’m not going to drown in the lake, or anywhere else, no matter what my ex-best friend might say. And anyway, even if I wanted to go paddling – not that I do,’ she added hastily on seeing George’s alarmed glance, ‘just how am I supposed to get anywhere near the lake? You’ve got Tom, Dick and Harry on full red-alert mode. How I ever thought they couldn’t get any worse!
‘But you need to know, and I’m sorry to be harsh here, but I’ve just about had enough of this now! We’ve discussed this over and over and I think you’re reassured and then you reveal a stereotypical, Hollywood-bimbo-actor-like tendency that is not remotely …’
Susie paused as George turned narrowed eyes to her. ‘Don’t let me stop you,’ he insisted, through gritted teeth. ‘Pray continue.’
‘History repeating itself?’
‘I don’t believe history is—’
‘That’s what you keep saying. Lulling me into thinking you are neither certifiable nor halfwit …’ She chose not to complete that sentence because of the extreme flexing and un-flexing of George’s hands around the steering wheel. ‘But then you seem to lose all sense of rhyme or reason and go on and on about not wanting me around water, not wanting me anywhere near Michael and Porsche, how you should have pulled out of the film and—’
Romancing the Soul Page 29
