by Mandy Baggot
Twenty Four
It was just over an hour before the group reached the hospital. Freya sat alone in the corridor, staring at the white wall in front of her. Yiannis had gone as white as the wall when Freya had burst into the restaurant and told him Emma needed to go to hospital. Freya didn’t know what his reaction had been when Emma had told him about the pregnancy. She had shut the dividing screen and given them some privacy on the journey into the capital.
Freya was terrified for Emma and she knew she had caused this situation. Bloody Russell, bloody parents, bloody, bloody past. She didn’t care any more, about anything. The only thing that mattered to her now was Emma and Yiannis’ baby.
As the door of the room opened, Freya rose to her feet and held her breath. Her heart was racing, she was mentally praying over and over in her head and her fingers were crossed together behind her back so tightly they hurt.
Yiannis came out into the corridor and Freya couldn’t tell from his expression what the news was. Her heart thumped against her chest and she felt physically sick.
‘She’s fine,’ Yiannis stated.
‘And the baby?’ Freya asked, swallowing a lump in her throat.
‘The baby’s fine too. Heart is beating normally and all is OK,’ Yiannis announced.
‘Oh thank God! Oh Yiannis, I’m so, so pleased,’ Freya said, almost hysterical with relief.
She threw her arms around him and held him close to her.
‘You are going to make a wonderful father,’ Freya told him sincerely.
‘Thank you,’ Yiannis answered, tears in his eyes.
‘Can I see Emma?’ Freya asked, wiping at her eyes and trying to compose herself.
‘Yes, they are going to keep her overnight to make sure all is OK and I am going to stay too,’ Yiannis told her.
‘OK, well I’ll just be a minute and then I’ll leave you two alone,’ Freya spoke.
She wiped her eyes again and took a deep breath before she opened the door of Emma’s room and entered.
Emma looked pale and washed out, hardly standing out against the white bed sheets. There was a doctor in the room, pressing buttons on the machine next to the bed.
‘Hi,’ Freya greeted.
‘Hello,’ Emma responded.
‘Please, no stay too long. She needs rest,’ the doctor told Freya as he headed towards the door.
‘I promise, two minutes that’s all,’ Freya assured.
The doctor left the room and Freya sat down in the chair next to Emma’s bed.
‘The baby’s fine,’ Emma informed her.
‘I know, Yiannis told me. It’s fantastic news,’ Freya spoke.
‘You kept that promise. I’m sorry if I was horrible to you earlier, I was just so scared,’ Emma told her.
‘You weren’t horrible to me, although God knows you should have been. It was all my fault and I would never have forgiven myself if anything had happened to you or the baby,’ Freya spoke, holding her friend’s hand.
‘It wasn’t your fault it was that shit Russell,’ Emma said with a sigh.
‘Who was here being a shit because of me. Who was threatening me because of my stupid past. Well that’s something that’s never going to happen again,’ Freya told her seriously.
‘You aren’t going to pay him that money are you?’ Emma spoke.
‘No, I’m not going to pay him the money. Like I said, I don’t have the money. But I’m not going to have him blackmail me either. If it isn’t him doing the blackmailing it will be someone else some other time and for what?’ Freya asked.
‘So you can still be Freya,’ Emma reminded her.
‘I’ll always be Freya Em. I always was on the inside,’ Freya insisted.
When Freya got outside the hospital she switched on her mobile. It rang straight away and there was a message from Nicholas.
Hi Freya it’s Nick. Roger told me Emma’s sick and you’ve gone to the hospital. If you want me to come there just call me and I’ll come. I know you might not be able to call, what with hospital protocol, but just call as soon as you can and let me know you’re OK and that Emma’s OK. OK, bye.
Freya sighed. This was going to be hard. She pressed ‘call’ on Nicholas’ name and heard the phone ring.
‘Freya, are you OK?’ Nicholas asked, answering the phone almost immediately.
‘I’m fine, Emma’s fine - and the baby’s fine,’ Freya told him.
‘The baby?! She’s pregnant? Well what happened?’ Nicholas questioned.
‘Nick, I need to see you,’ Freya stated seriously.
‘OK, sure. Get Mike to bring you to the villa. Are you sure you’re OK?’ Nicholas asked her.
‘Yes, I’m OK - but we need to talk,’ Freya told him.
‘That sounds serious,’ Nicholas said.
‘I’ll see you in about an hour,’ Freya spoke.
‘Sure, see you,’ Nicholas replied.
Freya ended the call and looked up at the sky. Clouds were forming, the air was cool and it looked like it was going to rain.
The torrent had started by the time she arrived at Villa Kamia. It wasn’t just drizzle or a light, sharp shower, this rain was torrential and the sky indicated that there was a distinct possibility of thunder.
There were photographers outside the villa and they started taking pictures as the car approached. Freya was glad she was hidden behind the privacy glass as she didn’t much want to be seen by anyone, let alone the world’s press. Mike drove through the villa gates and stopped outside the front door.
‘Mike, thanks for everything tonight. I’m sorry about messing you about again. I don’t usually spend so much time in the hospital,’ Freya told him.
‘It’s no problem. I’m just glad things worked out OK for you and your friend,’ Mike replied.
‘Me too. I’ll see you,’ Freya spoke and she got out of the car, shutting the door behind her.
She hurried up the steps to the front door and knocked. Nicholas opened the door and let Freya step in out of the rain. The photographers again took photos long range from the gate but thankfully their view was partially blocked by the ornate pillars.
‘Hey you’re soaking. Let me get you a towel,’ Nicholas said as Freya entered.
After shutting the door he went to fetch one.
The entrance hall led into an open-plan living and dining area. The floors were marble and the walls cream. There was an eight person dining table with leather high backed chairs in one area and a brown suede corner group sofa absolutely covered in cushions in another area, with a giant plasma screen on one wall.
Freya bypassed it all, hardly taking her surroundings in. She didn’t stop walking until she had reached the patio doors. Through it was a view of the swimming pool, the Jacuzzi and lastly the ocean.
Freya took a deep breath and was ready to begin when Nicholas re-entered the room.
‘Here, let me dry your hair,’ Nicholas said, going towards her with the towel.
‘No it’s fine,’ Freya insisted, moving away from him.
‘This isn’t sounding too good. What’s happened since I left you this afternoon? You were happy then, really happy,’ Nicholas spoke, standing still.
‘My best friend nearly lost a baby,’ Freya replied, tears already brimming in her eyes.
‘I know but you said everything was fine,’ Nicholas replied.
‘They are, but she wouldn’t be in hospital if it wasn’t for me and my stupid deception. Russell met up with us on the way to the fort. He wanted money to ensure my past stayed in the past. Anyway, the upshot is that he pushed Emma and she fell. She was trying to protect me, like always, but this time I should have been protecting her and I didn’t,’ Freya said and she began to pace around nervously.
‘Tried to blackmail you? I am getting this right?’ Nicholas asked, astounded.
‘Yeah, but it isn’t the fact that he wanted twenty five grand that’s made me angry. It was the way he hurt Emma and how close I came to losing her the most precious
thing in the world. So, I’ve decided it can’t go on. I have to face things and I’m going to start doing that tonight. Which is why I’m going to tell you,’ Freya stated, nervously playing with her hands.
‘Freya, why don’t you sit down? I can get us a drink,’ Nicholas began.
‘No, please. Let me get this out, before I change my mind,’ Freya begged, breathing erratically.
‘I’ve said to you before, you don’t need to tell me anything you don’t want to. The last thing I want to do is make you feel uncomfortable,’ Nicholas reminded her.
‘I have to do this Nick. For Emma, for me - for us,’ Freya stated seriously.
Nicholas sat on the edge of the sofa and watched her as she walked up and down.
‘Right, well, where to start? OK, my name isn’t Freya Johnson. Well, I mean, it is my name now but it wasn’t my birth name. My real name is Jane Lawson-Peck. My father’s Eric Lawson-Peck of Lawson-Peck Industries,’ Freya stated in a rush.
‘The billionaire,’ Nicholas said simply.
‘Yes, that’s him. The entrepreneur, the charmer, the man of the people,’ Freya spoke.
Nicholas remained silent, letting Freya continue.
‘I was born into this wealthy, luxurious world where my parents stamped their feet and people dropped everything and came running. The problem was I didn’t fit into that world. I didn’t understand the need for thirty six pairs of shoes, thirty four of which I never wore. I didn’t care that my father had six cars, all custom made. And I didn’t understand why my mother never wanted to spend time with me. I spent my childhood escaping from nannies, a different one every month. I’d climb out of my bedroom window, shin down the tree, go through the hole in the hedge I’d made and meet up with Emma to go to the cinema or bowling, normal things that normal people do. My closest companion in that house was Joseph the butler. All I really wanted was a mother and father who loved me, but all they cared about was spending and buying and Prada and Versace,’ Freya carried on.
‘Freya, I…’ Nicholas started, rising to his feet.
‘No, please don’t interrupt me now. I want to tell you it all. Where did I get to?’ Freya asked him.
‘You used to escape from the house and meet up with Emma,’ Nicholas prompted.
‘Yeah, we used to go bowling. Well when I was sixteen I met a boy at the bowling centre. His name was Jonathan and I thought he was the most amazing looking guy I’d ever seen. Of course, being quite a large girl and having a hang up over my size, I didn’t think I had a chance with him. Ring any bells? Anyway one day, we ended up together in the queue to get bowling shoes and we spoke and we laughed and the next time I went bowling it was a date, with him. I used a fake name even back then but when we started to get serious and I realised I was starting to love this guy, I told him the truth about who I was. And once he knew the truth and he said he loved me and he didn’t care who my parents were, he asked me to marry him. I said yes and I decided to take him to meet my parents. I didn’t want to but he said it would be OK and I trusted in him and I trusted in us. And, believe it or not, they were completely normal with him! We ate Chinese takeaway on normal dinner plates, not the bone china, and they asked him about his football team and college, not in a “what do you want to do one day son?” kind of way but just in a generally interested kind of way. I thought finally some of what I’d been telling them about the way they treated people had sunk in. Ha! More fool me! I mean for half a second I believed my life was going to change and Jonathan and I were going to have this perfect, normal, happy life ahead of us. I should have known better. The very next day my father went to Jonathan’s college and he gave him thirty grand and told him to leave the area and have no contact with me ever again,’ Freya carried on.
Her breathing had quickened, her chest was tight and her eyes were now spilling tears as she continued to pace about the room.
‘That was the last time I ever told anyone my real name,’ Freya said and she paused for breath.
‘My God,’ Nicholas remarked.
‘Yeah, some story huh? Well there is a bit more. I’ve saved the best bit ‘til last. After Jonathan left I thought my life was going to end. I was locked up in that fortress of a house, with my thirty six pairs of shoes, going out of my mind, with parents who couldn’t care less whether I was alive or not as long as I behaved well at dinner parties. So one night, when they’d gone to some gala dinner or other, I found myself in the house, on my own, surrounded by all the glitz and chintz, the chandeliers, the sheepskin rugs, the antiques and eighteenth century paintings and I just broke down. I broke down because I realised everything I was looking at meant more to my parents than I did. And that really hurt. So, what did I do? I went out to the garage, I got some petrol destined for the fleet of ride-on mowers and I doused the house with it. I started with my mother’s walk in wardrobe and ended with the hideous tiger skin rug in the lounge. I walked out of the front door, I set fire to one of my mother’s hideous fur stoles and I tossed it back into the house and watched the whole lot burn,’ Freya spoke.
She was visibly shaking as she remembered the night. She felt cold now and her chest ached as she thought back to the pain she had felt at that time.
‘My parents arrived back from their meal to see half the neighbourhood and three fire engines outside the smouldering house and my mother got out of the car, another fur stole hanging from her neck and said “Oh my God Eric, I didn’t put the diamonds back in the safe”. There was me, sat with the fire crew, wrapped in a blanket, and she was concerned about her bloody diamonds,’ Freya spoke, pausing to wipe her eyes.
‘Freya, come and sit down,’ Nicholas begged.
‘No, I must finish this. So anyway the fire brigade obviously found out it was arson and my father was furious, blaming the staff and then trying to think of someone who had a grudge against him, which of course was most of the people he had ever had business dealings with. And then I told him it was me. I told him I’d torched everything precious to him to make him realise these things meant nothing and he could just go out and replace them, but I was precious and he had hurt me by taking Jonathan away. I mean, what seventeen year old was going to walk away from thirty grand when he realised my parents were never going to give our relationship a chance anyway. He didn’t have a choice. I told my father he couldn’t do that to people and he shouldn’t be doing it to his own daughter,’ Freya said.
‘What did he say?’ Nicholas asked.
‘He didn’t say very much, he let his actions speak for him. He beat me, which I knew he would, and then he pressed charges against me for arson. He did it to scare me, because a week before the court date he said that if I agreed to go away to some posh college and to have no more contact with Emma he would drop the charges. I said no. I mean Emma was all I had, she still is all I have, I couldn’t lose her. So I went to court, I pleaded guilty and I got a year in prison,’ Freya stated, hugging herself as she paced.
‘Jeez Freya, you went to jail!’ Nicholas exclaimed in horror.
‘Yeah, I did nine months. My mother visited three times in those nine months. Her and my father got divorced while I was in there. I’ve not seen him since that day in court and now I’ve found out my mother’s been shagging Russell, the meagre relationship we did have has bitten the dust. Emma came to see me every weekend she could while I was inside. She was my lifeline and that’s why she’s so precious to me,’ Freya said with a heavy sigh.
‘So you changed your name when you got out,’ Nicholas guessed.
‘Yes I became Freya Johnson. I chose Freya because it was the name of this very pretty, very slim, popular girl at school and Johnson was the surname of Joseph the butler. I thought it was fitting. So after that, I went to college, I learnt photography and I got a job with a small newspaper which gave me the experience I needed to get a bank loan and set up my own business. It wasn’t the easiest thing to achieve with a criminal record though,’ Freya told him.
‘I can imagine,’ Nichol
as responded.
‘So now you know who I was and what I did and why I’m like I am. I’m this big, loud, larger than life person, who runs away when things get too much and who has been keeping this secret for what seems like forever,’ Freya concluded.
She smiled and then took off, rushing past Nicholas and heading for the front door of the villa.
‘Where are you going?’ Nicholas asked as he hurried after her.
‘I’m going back to the Calypso to pack. I’m going to go tomorrow. I’ve just done too much damage here one way or another. I was supposed to be anonymous forever, that isn’t going to be the case any more,’ Freya said as she pulled open the door.
‘Freya don’t be stupid. It doesn’t matter, come back inside, we need to talk,’ Nicholas spoke, following her down the steps.
‘I’ve said all I wanted to say, my throat’s dry and I’m all talked out,’ Freya stated, the rain soaking through her thin top as she made her way to the gate.
‘Well I haven’t done my talking yet,’ Nicholas told her and he grabbed her arm and pulled her forcefully back towards him.
‘I’m sorry if I’ve misled you. I think if there was anyone I would have confided in, without my hand being forced, I think it might have been you. I don’t know when I would have got the courage to tell you, but I think I would have, I hope I would have,’ Freya told him.
The rain was relentless, which was probably why the photographers were no longer in attendance. Without coats, the two of them were getting drenched. Neither of them noticed.
‘Will you stop this? You’re not going anywhere. I’ve heard what you’ve said and I’m old enough to be able to make my own decisions about people based on the present, the here and now, because that’s what’s important. How many times have I said that to you since we met? God Freya, we all have a past. You know some of mine but not all of it. I’ve done some stupid things I’d like to erase. Granted I never got round to torching the family home, but I might have, given the right provocation,’ Nicholas spoke.
