Public Property

by Mandy Baggot

  ‘Hey,’ he greeted. He let go of the weights and turned around to face her.

  ‘Morning. So, at what hour did you decide you’d rather spend time with these boring, ugly, stiff machines instead of me?’ Freya asked, walking towards him, Willis hot on her heels.

  ‘It was about six, or just after. I woke and I couldn’t get back to sleep and I thought if I do this now I won’t have to do it later. I thought maybe we could go out to dinner tonight.’ He stood up, reached for his towel and rubbed his face with it.

  ‘My choice?’

  ‘Yeah, why not. I’ve just about recovered from the last feeding frenzy we went on when we did four different restaurants in the one evening.’

  Willis let out a miaow and jumped up on to the stepper machine. It started to move and scared him. He leapt off and raced up the cellar steps.

  ‘Willis is hungry and so am I. Have you eaten?’ Freya asked. She took the towel from him and rubbed the sweat from his back.

  ‘No, what have we got?’

  ‘The leftover pizza’s still there. It’s probably still good for one more day. Or there’s a carton of Chinese we didn’t finish on Tuesday. Or there are blueberry muffins from the diner but they’ve been hanging around a while so perhaps they ought to go in the bin,’ Freya recounted as they made their way back up to the main house.

  ‘Do we not have bread and eggs or cereal?’

  ‘Well yeah, we have those things. But they aren’t very exciting.’

  ‘I’m making scrambled eggs with toast and I’m putting all that leftover takeaway food in the trash,’ he told her.

  ‘The “bin” God damn it! The “bin”! Even the pizza? It’s got everything on it.’

  ‘Especially the pizza. If it’s been around that long it’s got everything on it and a whole lot more.’

  Willis was sat on the kitchen counter when they arrived in the room, rubbing his head against the cupboard housing his food.

  ‘So, you haven’t forgotten what we’re doing today have you?’ Nicholas asked.

  ‘Do we have something planned?’

  ‘The new scanning equipment’s going to be used for the first time at Carlton General Hospital today. We’re doing a meet and greet with the patients, cutting a ribbon and having lunch with the hospital board. You really had forgotten, hadn’t you?’

  ‘Oh God is that today?! Yes, I had forgotten, but that’s fine. I’ll call Sasha, have her check the diary and cancel anything I might have stupidly put in. I did say I wasn’t an organiser,’ Freya reminded him.

  And Nicholas definitely hadn’t told her. His assistant probably sent her a bossy email and she probably deleted it.

  ‘Well, while you’re on the phone to her you can ask her to check appointments for next month and then we can make a firm date for the wedding.’

  ‘I will.’

  ‘No second thoughts this morning then?’ Nicholas asked her. He cracked some eggs into a pan.

  ‘No, but I had a rather terrifying dream about an Elvis impersonator. Hey, did you make tea for the photographers when you got up?’ Freya asked.

  ‘No. I looked out and there was only one guy there and I didn’t recognise him.’

  ‘Well Donny will be there by now. I’ll make a pot.’

  ‘You are crazy, you know that, don’t you?’ He shook his head at her.

  ‘And that makes you crazy for wanting to marry me.’

  The phone rang and Nicholas crossed the kitchen to pick up the cordless handset stationed on the wall.

  ‘Hello…oh hi Sasha. That’s OK…I’m fine thank you and you? That’s good…yeah…uh huh…well that was good thinking…’

  ‘Hey, does she want to speak to me at all? Her boss?’ Freya asked.

  ‘Freya’s right here. Yeah, I’ll put her on…yes OK, I will,’ Nicholas said. He held out the receiver for Freya to take.

  ‘Hello.’

  ‘Hi, Freya, I’m sorry to bother you at home this early but I wanted to remind you about your visit to Carlton General today. I meant to mention it yesterday but I had my meeting with Heather Malcolm and it went right out of my head.’

  ‘That’s OK. My fiancé is thankfully better organised than me and he also has a PA who emails lots of intricate looking schedules. But thank you for reminding me. Have I got anything else booked in for this afternoon?’ Freya wanted to know.

  ‘No, but there’s a message from Jonathan Sanders on the answer phone suggesting he meet you for lunch tomorrow to discuss the plan he put to you yesterday. He was a little vague.’

  ‘Jonny,’ Freya said out loud.

  ‘Shall I call him back to accept or did you want to do that?’ Sasha questioned.

  ‘Sasha, are you in the office right now?’ Freya asked. She moved from the kitchen out into the hallway.

  ‘Er, yes I am.’

  ‘Sasha, it’s not even eight. What are you doing there? Don’t you have a bed to be in? Or someone else’s bed to be in?’ Freya asked her.

  ‘Well, Heather Malcolm accepted my proposal for the college football photographs so I wanted to make a start with the organisation.’

  ‘Sasha, why can’t I be as efficient as you?’

  ‘I…’ Sasha started.

  ‘This afternoon we’ll do what I said yesterday. We’ll turn off the phones and get stuck into something. Maybe we’ll go out somewhere and take some pictures,’ Freya suggested to her.

  ‘I’d really like that.’

  ‘Good. Well, while you’re on the phone and in the office, could you check the diary for next month and see when I have some free time? I’ll need a week or so clear,’ Freya said.

  ‘You’re pretty busy. There are meetings about the Every Day project, but there is a reasonably clear week at the end of the month. There are one or two appointments but…’ Sasha began.

  ‘You mean around Christmas.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Could you cancel those appointments? And give me the date of one of the Saturdays either end of that week,’ Freya asked her.

  ‘Twenty second?’

  ‘Great. That’s perfect. Right, well could you book me out that Saturday and the whole of the following week?’

  ‘Are you taking a vacation?’

  ‘“Holiday”, Sasha. Yes I am, a honeymoon.’ She smiled to herself. A honeymoon.

  ‘Oh. Well, that’s great, congratulations.’

  ‘Thank you. Well, I shall see you a bit later and if Milo at the patisserie has any new recipes he’d like me to try out, save me something for this afternoon,’ Freya finished.

  ‘Sure. See you.’

  Freya returned to the kitchen and replaced the phone on the wall.

  ‘Everything OK?’ Nicholas asked. He buttered toast.

  ‘Everything’s fine. In fact you’d better call your brother later and make sure he can get here for the twenty second of December.’

  ‘You’ve decided on a date.’ He turned to face her.

  ‘Can you make it?’

  ‘I think I’m supposed to be meeting with Arnold Schwarzenegger that day, but I’m sure he’ll understand,’ Nicholas replied, slipping his arms around her waist.

  ‘Tell him you’ll be back,’ Freya suggested with a laugh.

  ‘I’ll tell him I can’t meet him because I’m going to be made the happiest man alive.’

  ‘You’ll make me blush and you know I hate blushing in front of Willis.’

  ‘He’s gotten used to it. Come on, let’s eat breakfast and then I’ll call Matt, tell him the good news.’ He let her go and picked up the plates from the work top.

  Twenty second of December. She was going to be a winter bride. Now the date was set she had to think about what she wanted and where she wanted it. Where did she start?

  ‘So, who’s Jonny?’ Nicholas asked, sitting down at the table.

  ‘Jonny?’

  She swallowed. She should have told him yesterday. Whatever she told him now, after the event, was going to sound lame. Unless she lied to buy time
. Why did she need to lie? There was nothing between her and Jonny.

  ‘Yeah, Sasha said something to you on the phone and you said Jonny in kind of a weird way.’

  ‘Oh, Jonny! That Jonny! Oh, that’s Sasha’s latest guy. He’s nothing to write home about and if you ask me she could do a lot better than him. He stood her up last week with no good excuse.’

  There was the lie, tripping from her tongue. She sat at the table with a thump.

  ‘She seems quite a nice girl. She certainly likes to talk.’

  ‘She is nice and talented. Obviously not as talented as me, but I’m trying to pass on a few things to her,’ Freya told him.

  ‘So, December twenty second.’ He looked across the table at her, a smile on his face.

  ‘Yep, twenty second of December, it’s a date.’

  If God didn’t smite her for the lying.

  Ten

  The car arrived to pick them up at ten. Roger, Nicholas’ bodyguard, arrived in it. As much as Freya liked raising money for charity, she absolutely hated the meet and greets. Meeting the people was fine, she loved talking. But being photographed from every conceivable angle and being asked endless questions by journalists was her idea of hell. Even though she had endured months of it already, she still didn’t seem to get any better at it. She slightly envied Nicholas’ relaxed demeanor in dealing with it all. He was excellent at being amiable to anybody and everybody.

  Another reason Freya disliked public functions was the fact she felt she had to consider carefully what she wore. Too formal and she would be thought of as too business-like, too casual and she would be seen as not serious enough. It was a nightmare. Usually she didn’t care what people thought, but the charity work was important to her. Today she had opted for a smart grey trouser suit and a black shirt.

  ‘Hi, Roger,’ Freya greeted, hurrying down the steps to embrace him.

  ‘Hey, Freya. How you doing?’ He hugged her.

  ‘I’m good. Really good.’ She couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across her face.

  ‘I know that look, you have something going on.’

  ‘We might have. Nick, Roger thinks we have something going on. Do you want to tell him or shall I?’ Freya called as Nicholas appeared at the front door. He was looking every inch the Hollywood heartthrob in a charcoal grey suit.

  ‘We’ve set a date for the wedding, Roger. December twenty second.’ Nicholas took Freya’s hand in his.

  ‘Well, that is fantastic news. Congratulations, man,’ Roger said. He held his hand out to his boss.

  ‘Thanks, Roger.’

  ‘And it goes without saying we would really love you and Dionne to be there. In fact, Roger, I kind of need you to do something else as well,’ Freya spoke in serious tones.

  ‘I’ll wait in the car,’ Nicholas said. He winked at Freya and opened the door.

  ‘You want me to organise the security?’ Roger asked.

  ‘No, God no! I’m hoping we can do this quietly and without the need for anything like that. No, I was rather hoping you might give me away.’

  ‘My, I wasn’t expecting that. I don’t know what to say.’

  Freya watched him fiddle with the collar of his shirt.

  ‘Well, you know my history with my father, and my mother for that matter. And you know, since we share the same admiration of Bruce Willis, I thought it was a good enough reason to ask you,’ Freya continued.

  ‘Freya, I would be truly honoured to give you away.’

  ‘You would?! Well that’s great!’ She threw her arms around him and hugged him close. They’d formed a bond from the moment they’d met and he was the closest thing she had to a father figure.

  ‘Any idea on location yet?’ he asked.

  ‘I have a few ideas and I’m not telling you any of them. Because I know if I tell you, you’ll be mentally working out where all the exits are.’

  ‘You know me way too well.’

  Half an hour later the car pulled up outside Carlton General Hospital and Freya could see the whole state’s photographers and journalists were outside waiting to take photographs and ask questions.

  ‘I really, really hate this,’ Freya remarked to Nicholas as they prepared to get out of the car.

  ‘I know you do and you know I would rather go in through the back door. But it’s publicity the charity needs to ensure its future,’ he reminded her.

  ‘Yes I know, I know. I just would rather come here at the dead of night and speak to people privately, not pose for the papers.’

  She also had the beginnings of a spot on her nose and although she’d concealed, those lenses were unforgiving.

  ‘It’ll be fine and remember there’s a meal waiting for us after we’ve done the posing and the smiling and all the publicity shots.’

  ‘I know, that thought will see me through. OK, let’s go.’

  They got out of the car and the photography began at once. There were whirrs and clicks coming from all directions and Freya gritted her teeth and smiled, holding on tight to Nicholas’ hand.

  ‘Freya, Nick, over here!’

  ‘Freya, Nick, how does it feel to know that the people of Carlton and the surrounding towns will benefit from advanced cancer screening thanks to your donations?’ another journalist yelled in their direction.

  ‘Both Freya and I are delighted that we’ve been able to obtain this equipment for Carlton General and we hope it will end up saving many lives,’ Nicholas answered.

  ‘Freya, may I be the first to offer my congratulations on setting the wedding date.’

  The voice calling out from behind them had Freya spinning round to see who was speaking. There she was, Sandra McNeill from Shooting Stars magazine. They had met on more than one occasion, the first being when Freya met Nicholas in Corfu.

  ‘Sorry, Sandra, what did you say?’ Freya asked.

  ‘December twenty second, the date for your wedding. Will you be going back to England or having a ceremony in Hollywood?’ Sandra continued, her recorder held out.

  ‘Nick, are you hearing this?’ Freya asked him, pulling on his hand.

  ‘Sandra, I’m afraid you’ve yet again found yourself an unreliable source. Freya and I haven’t set a date for our wedding yet, but when we do you will be the first to know.’

  Nicholas directed Freya away from Sandra McNeill and towards the entrance of the hospital where the board members were waiting to meet them.

  ‘She knew the date of our wedding. We’ve told three people and she knew. How?’ Freya wanted to know.

  ‘You know what it’s like. News like that just has a habit of getting out. We have a team of photographers permanently at our front gate. Maybe they overheard you talking to Roger,’ Nicholas suggested.

  ‘Our gate is nearly one hundred yards from our front door, Nick. They couldn’t have overheard,’ Freya whispered.

  ‘Hey, calm down, it isn’t the end of the world. It was going to get out sooner or later, it’s the nature of the beast. Don’t let it get to you, you know what reporters are like. They could probably track down your “Wild Wednesday” pants if they put their minds to it.’ He smiled and squeezed her hand.

  ‘Do you think our house is bugged?’ Freya asked.

  ‘Now you’re being ridiculous and you really have to cut down the amount of crime dramas you watch,’ he responded with a laugh.

  ‘I don’t like people knowing things like that when we’ve only just decided it ourselves.’

  It wasn’t just irritating it was unnerving. She didn’t want to think anyone she’d told about the wedding date would divulge the information to someone like Sandra McNeill.

  ‘Listen, don’t let it spoil how we feel about setting the date. People are bound to be interested, but at the end of the day it’s our private event. So they can talk about it all they like, but they won’t be getting invitations.’

  Freya nodded but Sandra McNeill’s comment had unsettled her. She was just getting used to the idea herself, the last thing she wanted was
to have the moment ruined.

  It was still playing on Freya’s mind when they were being given a tour of one of the cancer wards by Bill Stanton, the chairman of the hospital.

  ‘Nick, Freya, this is Katherine. She hasn’t been able to stop talking about you coming to visit since we told her about it,’ Bill Stanton introduced as they stopped walking and stood at the foot of one of the beds.

  A pale, dark-haired, dark-eyed girl of approximately eight years old lay in the bed they had halted at. She looked pale and frail and was attached to a drip.

  ‘Hi, Katherine,’ Nicholas greeted. He went closer to her and sat on the edge of her bed.

  ‘Hi…you are my favourite actor. I think you’re cool,’ Katherine spoke quietly. She attempted to sit herself up.

  ‘Well thank you very much. Katherine, this is Freya, my fiancée,’ he introduced. He motioned Freya to come nearer to the bed.

  ‘Hi, Katherine, it’s very nice to meet you. Do you know, he’s my favourite actor too,’ Freya said, smiling.

  ‘Freya! How can you lie to Katherine like that? Freya’s favourite actor is Bruce Willis.’

  ‘I like him too. What’s a fiancée?’ Katherine questioned.

  ‘Well, being someone’s fiancée means you’re going to get married to that person one day. Freya and I are going to get married,’ he told the girl.

  ‘Wow! Are you going to have a big white dress and bridesmaids and a fancy cake?’ Katherine asked. At the mention of a wedding she had perked up and was overflowing with excitement.

  ‘Well, I’m not quite sure yet, maybe. Is that what you’d like when you get married one day?’ Freya asked her.

  ‘If I was getting married I’d have five bridesmaids. My mom, my sister, Karen and my friends Anne, Britney and Erica. And I would make my daddy wear a real smart suit so he would look nice when he took me to the church,’ Katherine explained, a faraway look in her eyes.

  ‘That sounds like a perfect wedding day to me,’ Freya said, smiling.

  ‘Is your daddy going to wear a smart suit to your wedding?’ Katherine asked, looking directly at Freya with her huge brown eyes.

  ‘My daddy,’ Freya repeated the words.