by Mandy Baggot
‘Come on, Freya. It isn’t wrong to want to protect you and our baby. I realise you’re more than capable of looking after yourself but at least let me feel I’m needed.’ He gave her a smile. One of his best ones. One of the ones that made her weak at the knees.
‘I’ll have a large pot of tea and some of the Jell-O stuff.’
‘Fine, I’ll go organise it.’ He pulled back the covers and got out of bed.
Freya watched his naked form as he pulled on his underwear. She crossed the room fast and put her arms around his waist, holding his body close to her.
‘Do you still think I’m sexy even now I’m incubating something?’ she asked.
‘Um, let me see. I think I’ll have to remove that robe to really give an honest answer.’ His fingers were at the knot, deftly unfastening it.
‘I was kind of hoping you were going to say that.’
Twenty Seven
Freya and Nicholas finally got up just after eight thirty. Unable to wait any longer for breakfast, Willis had leapt up on the bed and paraded up and down the duvet until they had no choice but to give in.
While Nicholas made breakfast, Freya called Emma.
‘Hello,’ Emma answered.
‘I’m ten weeks pregnant.’
‘Oh my God! Freya! Ten weeks! Oh congratulations!’
‘She’s pleased,’ Freya conveyed to Nicholas as Emma let out another shriek of excitement.
‘What happened? Did you have the scan? What does Nick say?’
‘Yes, I had the scan. I wasn’t given any choice in the matter really. Dick Van Dyke was going on at me and then I kind of lost it in the car park about Jonny. Then I told Nick the doctor’s suspicions and he took it all out of my hands. I think it was probably what I needed.’
‘Whoa! Slow down, Freya. Jonny? Losing it in the car park? What’s happened overnight?’
‘More than you really want to know, believe me. It was definitely more than I wanted to know. I don’t know where to start.’
‘Just tell me,’ Emma begged.
‘Are you sitting down?’
She wasn’t sure how she managed to get the words out. She’d rattled the news out as fast as she could to try and lessen the shock for her best friend. By the time Freya had stopped for breath both she and Emma were crying. Nicholas took the phone from her.
‘Hi, Em,’ he greeted, putting an arm around Freya and drawing her close.
‘After what Freya’s just told me, I feel like I need to come over and see her.’
‘There won’t be any need for that. We’re planning on coming to Corfu straight after Freya’s photography exhibition.’
‘For a wedding?’
‘We hope so.’
‘Let me have her back,’ Freya asked, reaching for the phone. Nicholas passed it to her.
‘Sorry about that. I don’t know what’s the matter with me lately.’ She wiped at her eyes.
‘I can tell you exactly what’s the matter with you, Freya. You have too much on your mind and you need a break. I don’t know what to say about Jonny. I really don’t, I mean…’
‘I can’t talk about him. Not yet, maybe not ever. It’s too creepy and it turns my stomach and…’ She felt nauseous again.
The buzz of the intercom interrupted their conversation. Freya paused to hear Nicholas answer and establish who it was.
‘Hello,’ Nicholas greeted.
‘Nick? This is Harry, from The Hollywood Chronicle,’ the voice replied.
‘Harry, neither Freya or I have any comment to make on anything right now. I thought we had an arrangement with you. I thought that was one of the trade offs of Freya bringing you cups of tea in the morning for the last six months.’
‘Oh I know. I don’t want any comment on anything. I’ve just arrived here and someone’s tied something to your gate. I just wanted to make you aware of it.’
‘Emma, I’m going to have to call you back,’ Freya said, ending the call.
‘What is it, Harry?’
‘Well, it’s a wreath. And it’s got Freya’s name on it.’
‘I’m coming down to the gate. Wait there and don’t touch it.’ He ended the conversation.
‘A wreath with my name on. Well, fancy that.’ She laughed but it came out weak.
‘I’m going to call the police first and then I’m going to call Roger and we are getting CCTV out there today.’ He pulled on a pair of sneakers.
‘Wait, don’t go yet. I want to see this for myself.’ She picked up her jacket from the back of the chair and followed Nicholas down the hall.
The wreath was in the shape of a cross and it was made up of white carnations. Across it was a black ribbon with Freya’s name printed on it and R.I.P written underneath.
‘You haven’t touched this have you, Harry?’ Nicholas asked as he looked at the tribute.
‘No. I called you as soon as I saw what it was.’
‘And where are the others today? Has anyone been here before you? Has anyone photographed this?’ Nicholas continued to question.
‘I don’t know. I think everyone’s over at George Clooney’s today. There were rumours he was making a big announcement this morning.’
Freya stared at the wreath. She read her name, looked at the perfectly white flowers and the contrast between the pretty blooms and the black ribbon.
‘Just cut it down and put it in the bin,’ she stated.
‘I think we ought to let the police see it. They can check for fingerprints,’ Nicholas told her.
‘There won’t be fingerprints. There were no fingerprints on the smashed windows, the crows or the “bitch” letter. This person’s too clever to go handling things now.’
‘You’ve been having people smash your windows?! I mean, I saw the police coming and going but…’ Harry began.
‘That’s confidential, Harry. If it gets out I’ll know who made the information public property. You get me?’ Nicholas asked.
‘Sure thing,’ Harry replied.
Freya started to untie the wreath.
‘Come on, let’s go back inside.’ He took the wreath from her and put an arm around her shoulders.
‘Perhaps I should change the name and have it sent to Jonny,’ she suggested as they walked.
‘I think we should start thinking of anyone who might have a grudge against you besides your father.’
‘Look, I know I can be a little abrasive, but making someone dislike me enough to do this sort of stuff? I can’t think of anyone. Unless…’
‘What? You’ve thought of someone?’
‘Martha?’
‘Martha?’ Nicholas remarked.
‘Yes, you can’t have forgotten your old PA already! Stern suits, even sterner demeanour. The one you fired for being a complete bitch to me. She must despise me. I lost her her job.’
‘I don’t think this is Martha’s thing. Anyway, she’s working for Terry Quinlan now. I’ve heard she’s having a ball bossing him around.’
‘Well, you asked me to think of someone and that’s the only person I can come up with. How about you? Can you think of anyone I’ve pissed off recently?’
‘Not off the top of my head.’
‘Then we’re at a loss, aren’t we? We’ll just have to play a waiting game and hope we won’t need to use this wreath for real.’
‘Don’t say that.’
‘Oh my God,’ Freya stated, clamping her hand to her mouth, her eyes widening.
‘What?’ Nicholas exclaimed as he pushed open the front door.
‘Well, what event in my life did all this coincide with?’
‘I don’t know. You’re going to have to elaborate.’
‘It’s Jonny. This all started after I met up with Jonny. That’s who’s behind it all. Not my father, but my father’s clone.’
Twenty Eight
Freya arrived at Exposure ready to explode. On the drive in, all she could think about was Jonny and his potential involvement in this ugly business. Despite his pledge of
support for the Every Day project, everything else in Freya’s life had gone downhill since he’d reappeared on the scene. As much as she wanted her new found knowledge regarding their relationship to be erased from her memory banks, she now also wanted to know why he despised her so much and why he seemed to have turned into a carbon copy of their father.
‘Morning, Sasha,’ she greeted as she entered the reception area. She marched towards her office, barely giving her assistant a second glance.
‘Oh, Freya, this is a surprise. I wasn’t really expecting you in today. Wow! Your hair,’ Sasha remarked, hurrying from behind the desk to follow Freya into her room.
‘Weren’t expecting me? Don’t I have Miss Guide at eleven and Toby James at four?’ Freya asked, looking down at her diary on her desk.
‘Well, yes. But I wasn’t sure, what with everything that’s been going on, whether you’d feel up to working.’
‘I feel fine. In fact, I feel better than ever. I mean, who wouldn’t feel on top of the world when they have a gorgeous fiancé to marry in the next few weeks?’ She smiled.
‘I guess nobody.’
‘Right, so, have you got my messages?’
‘Um, yes. I’ll just get them.’ Sasha left Freya’s office and headed back to the reception.
Freya began leafing through papers on her desk, looking for a Post-It note she knew she’d kept. She really needed to sort out the items on her desk. It was chaos and there was probably food under the files somewhere.
‘Here you are. There are quite a few. I marked the ones I called back.’ She passed Freya the message pad.
‘Thanks, Sasha.’ She took the book.
‘So is everything OK at the house now? No more break ins or anything?’ Sasha questioned.
‘No, no everything’s fine. In fact everything’s more than fine.’ She couldn’t keep the smile from her face. Despite everything else that was going on, the baby news was wonderful. She might have reservations about her capabilities but she was excited. It was unexpected but not unwelcome.
‘Really? You sound like you have some sort of news.’
‘Well, actually I do. But it’s completely confidential.’
She didn’t want to share this news with the world. She’d hardly had time to take it all in herself yet. She wasn’t ready to react to the world’s reaction.
‘That goes without saying.’
‘Well, Nick and I…we’re going to have a baby. Isn’t that just the most exciting and terrifying news you’ve ever heard?’
‘Wow. I mean, that’s fantastic news, really great,’ Sasha replied, smiling broadly.
‘Yes it is, isn’t it? I mean, I wasn’t sure at first but Nick is so excited. And I think he’s going to be a wonderful father.’ She recalled his expression when he saw the image on the scan monitor the night before.
‘I’m sure he will be amazing.’
‘The only down side to the pregnancy is I seem to have totally gone off all the foods I used to crave. For example, the thought of eating leftover Chinese for breakfast makes me feel quite sick.’
‘I’m sure it will pass.’
‘I hope so. Because I can’t see the baby getting all it needs from Jell-O sandwiches.’
‘Would you like me to get you something from the patisserie?’
‘No thanks. But a cup of tea would be great.’
‘I’ll go and make one.’
Miss Guide was one of the largest lingerie companies in the US and Freya knew her intimate photos of Nicholas were the reason she’d been asked to shoot for them. Although scantily-clad women were not her subject of choice, the job paid extremely well and Freya had also been able to suggest the company thought about making a range for the larger woman. They had taken this on board and Freya had agreed to endorse the product. She’d devoted the morning to looking at designs and trying on some prototypes. In between changes of underwear she’d telephoned Jonathan.
She’d got through to his voicemail and had left a message for him to meet her at Gatebrook.
It was just after one when Freya arrived and Jonathan was already there. He was stood, leant against the bonnet of his car, a pair of sunglasses in his hand. He looked more composed than the evening before. He was wearing a fresh suit and everything about him was immaculate and restored.
Freya pulled up in front of his car. Her stomach was churning. She didn’t really know what to say to him. Taking a deep breath she got out and shut the door firmly behind her.
‘Got your car back then,’ she remarked. She walked towards him.
‘Yeah, I went to the hospital last night but they said you’d already gone and I didn’t want to call the house. I guessed, as you’d left, it meant things must be alright.’
‘Things aren’t alright, Jonny. Things are far from alright.’ She threw the wreath at him. It landed on the bonnet of his car. Some of the flowers detached and fell to the ground.
‘What is this?’ he asked, looking at it.
‘Oscar worthy! Come on, keep it up. Show me some real surprise and outrage. Nick says it’s all in the stance. So, come on, Jonny, give me a stance.’
‘Who sent you this?’ he asked, moving his gaze from the flowers to Freya.
‘Fantastic! Great line and perfectly timed. I wish I was recording this. Perhaps Nick could swing a part for you.’
‘Freya, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Am I supposed to know what this is?’ Jonathan questioned.
‘The camera would love you. Hold on, I have Donald in my bag somewhere. Let me get some stills.’ She dug into her handbag and looked for her camera.
‘Freya, stop it. I don’t know anything about this. Where did it come from? Was it sent to you? Have you informed the police? Stuff like this is serious intimidation.’
‘It was tied to my front gate this morning for everyone to see, including some of the press. Well, one of the press. Apparently we’re not as hot as George Clooney today.’ She couldn’t find the camera.
‘And you think I had something to do with it? Why?’
‘Now let me think! When did I start getting hate mail? Hmm, just after you reappeared. When did my beautiful house start getting broken into? Hmm, just after I met up with you again. When did our driver get attacked? Oh, let me fill in the blanks for you! When I started seeing you again!’ she ranted.
‘For God’s sake, Freya. Why would I be doing this to you? I care about you.’
‘Oh no. Don’t you say that. Don’t you say you care about me! If you cared about me you would not have told me what you told me. You would not have got in touch with me again to tell me that…’
‘To tell you I’m your brother?’
‘Stop it. Don’t say that. I don’t want to hear it.’ She clamped her hands over her ears. The words still sickened her.
‘You have to hear it. Take your hands away and bloody listen to me,’ he ordered. He wrenched her hands away from her head.
‘Let go of me! Don’t you touch me! You make me feel sick.’ Her heart was racing and she was starting to feel woozy.
‘And how do you think I’ve felt about it since I found out? I’ve had to carry this around with me every day since I was seventeen. Our father bought my family’s silence and we never spoke about it again. There were so many times I wanted to get in touch with you, to try and make sense of it all but I couldn’t cross him.’
‘You couldn’t cross him because he was dipping into his pockets and providing you with everything you needed to become a cardboard cut-out of him.’
‘What was I supposed to do? You know what my life was like on that council estate. I had no prospects. My future would either have been working my guts out in a factory like my father or pedaling amphetamines.’
‘It didn’t have to be that way. And there’s nothing wrong with working hard for a living.’
‘No, I agree, but struggling? Struggling to survive like my parents did for so many years? Letting my mother carry on selling herself just to put food on the tabl
e? Listening to her cry at night? Eric offered us all a lifeline and I’m sorry if that grates on you, but we took it.’
‘He bought you. Just like he buys everything in his life. You’re just another one of his possessions and he will use you and manipulate you forever.’
‘I don’t think he will.’
‘Believe me, I’m speaking from vast experience.’
‘This is going to sound really hard to believe, but…he cares about me.’
‘Oh my God! You’re kidding me, right? You think he cares about you! I didn’t realise you were so naïve. The only person Eric Lawson-Peck cares about is himself and the only other thing he cares about is his fortune.’
‘He’s aging, Freya. He’s nearly sixty years old and I think he’s taking some time to reflect on things.’
‘I can’t stand here and listen to this crap. My father will never change. He’s always been a piece of work and being eligible for his bus pass is not going to alter that.’ She turned away from him and made her way back to the car.
‘He’s left me everything in his will.’
‘Oh my! He’s not left it to me? How shocked and surprised I am. How hurt and insulted. I’m pleased for you, Jonny. It sounds like you completely deserve it, having been so close to the man for all these years.’
‘The money doesn’t interest me. In ten or so years time, I plan to be worth twice as much as him.’
‘Bravo.’ She opened the door of her car.
‘I want you to have the money. As soon as I inherit, I’m gifting it to you.’
‘I can’t be bought, you know that. I’ve no interest in the money either but for much better reasons than you. Like the fact taking anything from you or that man would be like selling my soul to the Devil.’
‘Are you saying the Every Day project or the Nicholas Kaden Foundation could do without a few billion dollars?’
‘It’s dirty money, Jonny. Anything my father’s associated himself with is soiled and that includes you.’ Her eyes flashed at him, shooting anger across the yards.
