by Joanna Rees
Khordinksy turned round, as if sensing the change of atmosphere in the room.
The second Peaches looked into his eyes, everything that had happened on Pushkin came rushing back. She remembered him naked, his spit landing on her face. She pictured him kicking her in the stomach, his knife poised over her. Ready to kill her.
And she thought of Irena dying in Moscow. Alone. Broken. Murdered.
She felt a rush of adrenalin as she saw a flicker of recognition, then confusion and shock flash in Khordinsky’s eyes. He was trying to place her, but couldn’t, confounded by her previous disguise and his drunkenness on board Pushkin. And the fact that the last time he’d looked at her, he’d kicked her features to a pulp.
‘What is the meaning of this?’ he demanded. He glanced around him, clearly looking for Dieter.
‘Why don’t I make it clear for you? And for your guests,’ Peaches said. Her words were loud and slow. She forced herself to breathe as, thanks to Damien’s signal, the string quartet suddenly fizzled out into silence. The gossipy chit-chat of the guests turned to curious whispers, then complete silence. The air seemed to crackle with tension, like the onset of an electrical storm.
It all comes down to this, Peaches told herself. Do it. Harry would be in the room by now. She was safe. Khordinsky couldn’t touch her now.
Natalya Khordinsky pushed past Peaches to her husband’s side: loyal to the last, like a beaten lapdog. Pitiful, Peaches thought.
Before either of them spoke, Peaches held up her hand. She saw Emma’s triumphant face as she gripped the arm of the Ambassador, making sure that he watched.
‘As the Ambassador knows, there will be no party tonight,’ Peaches announced. ‘I’m here to inform you that your host is the subject of an international criminal investigation. He’s wanted on a huge array of charges . . . including murder.’
She heard a shocked rumble as the assembled crowd took in what she’d just said. Then they collapsed back into silence as Khordinsky laughed. A terrifying, cold laugh.
‘Good joke,’ he said, clapping his hands. ‘Now, please, everyone, carry on and enjoy yourselves. This is just a prank.’ He turned his back on Peaches. ‘Dieter,’ he called out across the room. ‘Kindly show this madwoman out. And you,’ he barked at the musicians, ‘keep playing. I never ordered you to stop.’
The musicians glanced nervously at Damien who shook his head.
‘Dieter!’ Khordinsky shouted again, anger now discolouring his face and voice. ‘I thought I told you to—’
‘Dieter’s not coming,’ Peaches interrupted. ‘No one can save you now.’
Khordinsky seemed to grow inside his jacket, like a great bear rising up to its full height. Still with his back to Peaches, he dropped his cigar to the floor and ground it into the intricately patterned tiles with the sharp heel of his shoe.
As he turned back to face her, Peaches wanted to run. Rage radiated from him like heat from a furnace. But she couldn’t run. She’d come too far. She couldn’t let Irena down now. She’d promised her dying mother that she would get her revenge. Well, this was it. She felt Emma staring at her, willing her to be strong. If she wasn’t going to send Khordinsky into the afterlife herself, she’d get the next best thing. She’d let him know that it was her who’d turned his life into a living hell. And why.
‘You know they have been waiting for you for years, but now we have given them the evidence they needed.’
‘Yuri, what’s going on?’ Natalya Khordinsky asked as Khordinsky’s eyes locked with Peaches’, like the horns of two bulls. ‘What’s going on? Make her stop.’
Khordinsky snapped something at her in Russian.
‘Who the hell are you?’ he hissed at Peaches.
‘Don’t you recognize me?’ Peaches said, trying to keep her voice from shaking with the pent-up fury she felt. ‘You should. I was the one you tried to rape on Pushkin. Before you nearly beat me to death.’
Khordinsky’s eyes roamed the crowd like searchlights, looking for Alex. But Alex would probably already be gone, Peaches thought. Far away. Never to be seen again. Safe from Khordinsky for ever.
She saw Natalya Khordinsky gasp and cover her mouth.
‘But no, as you can see, Alex didn’t kill me like you ordered him to. And you won’t find Alex now. You see, I am just one of the ways he has betrayed you.’
‘Who are you?’ Khordinsky demanded of Peaches. Louder this time.
‘I am the child of Irena Cheripaska,’ Peaches said. ‘Your wife.’
Natalya gripped Khordinsky’s arm. He threw her off.
‘Remember Irena?’ Peaches hissed, anger rushing through her now in a torrent. Her fists were clenched. Tears filled her eyes. It was all she could do not to punch him in the face. ‘How you burnt out her eyes in a jealous rage? Surely you remember. You had your thugs kill her finally in Moscow. Only a few weeks ago.’
Khordinsky went pale. ‘You’re . . .’
‘Anna. Yes. The one that you told Gorsky to sell. When I was three.’
‘No,’ Khordinsky said. He didn’t move, but she sensed something about him shrink back.
‘And, unfortunately, that makes me your child, too,’ she continued. ‘Daddy.’
Even now, after everything, for a split second, she wondered whether those words would touch Khordinsky. Whether, in some far-fetched fantasy, he might beg her for her forgiveness. Might throw himself into her arms and embrace her as his lost child.
But Khordinsky clearly wasn’t in the business of closure. His shark’s eyes stayed blank. ‘Lying whore,’ he spat.
Peaches felt a steeliness creeping over her. Her first assessment, as always, held true. He didn’t give a damn about her. About his own flesh and blood. He hadn’t then, and he sure as hell didn’t now.
‘You want to see the scar on my back?’
‘You’re lying,’ he repeated, but a slick of sweat had broken out on his brow. His eyes looked murderous. ‘Irena betrayed me. That child was her lover’s. Tomin’s.’
‘No. I was your child. You want the DNA test to prove it?’
Suddenly the PA system burst into life. It was Khordinsky’s voice recorded:
‘Not only did I profit from the way Dimitry structured the deal, but I was able to buy Harvey’s house as well. Harvey had put it up as collateral with the bank, you see. As soon as I started looking for a suitable house here in Britain, I knew I had to have this one. So Harvey lost it along with the mine. I was ready and waiting to make an offer the bank couldn’t refuse.’
‘Very fortunate.’
‘The English have a saying to cover this. Killing two birds with one stone. Yes, that’s what Julian Harvey did for me.’
‘He was willing to give it up?’
‘No, of course not. He said he’d fight to get it back. That he’d never let down his investors. Or his stupid wife. Threatened to sue me. All sorts of fighting talk. So he had to be . . . silenced. When I pushed him, it made it easy to make his fall look like a suicide.’
There was a sudden noise as everyone started talking, gasping, hardly able to believe what they’d just heard. Khordinsky looked around at the crowd staring at him.
Suddenly he moved, grabbing Natalya around the neck. He fumbled for a moment, reaching inside his jacket. Then he pressed his pistol against her temple. At the sight of Khordinsky’s gun, everyone started screaming.
‘Stay back!’ he shouted. ‘Stay back or I’ll shoot.’
People started running for the exits.
Natalya was whimpering as he dragged her backwards towards the corridor.
Then Alex appeared, sweeping through the retreating crowd as if he was swimming against the tide. ‘Yuri. No. Drop the gun. Leave her. It’s over.’
‘You!’ Khordinsky roared. He didn’t hesitate. He pointed his gun at Alex and fired.
Peaches watched in horror as Alex fell to the floor.
Then she screamed as Khordinsky turned his gun on her. He grinned wolfishly as he aimed. But then he s
eemed to trip, stumbling sideways, Natalya with him.
Peaches watched in confusion as a red patch of blood bloomed like a flower on Natalya’s pink satin dress. Natalya stared down at it, as if she couldn’t believe it.
Then her knees buckled and she slumped to the floor, taking Khordinsky down with her. Her head hit the black and white tiles with a crack. A thin line of blood trickled from her mouth.
‘Drop your weapon!’ Armed police closed in on Khordinsky.
Khordinsky scrabbled on the floor, desperately looking for an escape route. But he was surrounded. There was no way out.
He dropped his pistol then. It fell on Natalya’s body, jogging her elbow before it clattered to the floor. Ignoring her, he slowly sat and raised his hands above his head.
Amongst the screams of his guests and the panic all around him, he sat there like a rock. Cold and inhuman to the last. He said nothing as the police cuffed him, yanking him to his feet.
That’s when Peaches caught his eye – only for a fraction of a second, but long enough for him to know that she’d witnessed his fall. That’s how she’d remember him: chained like a dog.
She knew then that she’d get nothing more from him. And needed nothing more. She’d had her revenge. He was dead to her now.
It was to the living she had to turn next.
Peaches rushed to Frankie’s side. Her young friend was crouched on the floor, cradling her beautiful Alex in her arms.
His dress shirt was bloodstained and his breath came in short, shallow gasps. He groaned as a spasm of pain rocked him.
‘It’s all right, baby. It’s going to be all right,’ Frankie said. ‘Will someone please help? Get an ambulance!’ she screamed.
Peaches put her arms around Frankie and squeezed her tight as she sobbed. For the first time in her life, she found herself saying a prayer.
Time slowed then. Paramedics rushed in, tending to Alex, lifting him on to a stretcher and carrying him away. Frankie never left his side.
Police had rushed in, trying to control the hysterical crowd.
Peaches stood and stared out of the window at the flashing lights against the night sky. She could see Khordinsky being pushed into the back of a car. She’d wanted to kill him, but as the car door slammed, she understood that the law was the best punishment for him. Khordinsky wasn’t above the law. Nobody was. Not even her. She saw that now.
Everything was over for them both. But Khordinsky was off to a dark place, whilst Peaches saw a sliver of freedom opening up before her. So long as Alex lived. So long as his life was not the price for bringing Khordinsky down.
Suddenly Emma was by her side. Peaches saw that Emma’s eyes were filled with tears. She too was watching the car carrying Khordinsky speeding off into the night.
‘We did it,’ she said. ‘We did it.’
EIGHT MONTHS LATER
Frankie breathed in cold fresh air and pulled her chunky jumper more closely around her as she stepped out of the front door of the cosy log cabin.
‘Hola, Gabi!’ One of the ranch hands waved to her. She did a double-take, before waving back.
It was still strange getting used to her new identity as Mrs Gabriella Mendola. And even stranger calling Alex ‘Juan’ in public. But it was a very, very small price to pay for their freedom. It still amazed her that they’d swapped their old lives so easily for this. But she wouldn’t go back, even if she could.
Before she’d arrived here, she’d no idea that Argentina would be so beautiful. Thanks to Harry Rezler they’d really lucked out. After Alex had recovered in a secure British Government hospital, they’d both been relocated through a witness protection programme to a ranch just outside San Carlos de Bariloche in Patagonia. At the time, it had sounded as if they were being sent to the end of the earth, but now, eight months after the fateful events in Wrentham, Frankie felt as if she’d been sent to paradise.
Now that spring was here, the trees were spectacularly bursting into fresh life and the sky was an intoxicating deep blue. She walked down the track to the paddock where Alex was training the new horses.
She climbed up on to the bottom rung of the fence and waved at him. He tipped his gaucho hat and waved back, cantering across the paddock on the large dappled chestnut.
‘You OK, Mrs M.?’ Alex asked. She laughed and climbed up one more rung and he leant down and kissed her. The horse snorted steam in the cold air.
Frankie smiled. ‘Don’t worry about me. I don’t want you to get too tired,’ she said.
The gunshot wound had healed, but although he was mobile enough to ride, he was still in pain by nightfall. Yet Alex loved his job and he’d already set up a riding class for the local kids. In fact, Andrés, the ranch manager, was talking about promoting him. Each night she and Alex practised their Spanish together. Every day they were fitting in more and more.
‘I just stopped by to tell you that I’m going into town. I’ll see you later,’ she said.
He blew her a kiss and winked. ‘I love you,’ he mouthed, before turning the horse away.
Frankie loved driving the bashed-up jeep that she and Alex had bought. On the ride down into town from the ranch, one side of the road was a forest of fragrant tall pine trees, their shadows flickering across the tarmac. She opened the window, breathing in their incredible smell. A train rattled by on the tracks through the trees and she smiled.
Today was the day she was going to do what she’d been discussing with Alex. She knew it went against all the rules they’d been given, but Frankie needed to do this one last thing. Then she’d be able to rest.
As she began the descent down into town, the view took her breath away. The Lago Nahuel Huapi spread out before her, a stunning expanse of dark blue water, dotted with pine-green islands. The snow-topped peaks of the Andes rose in the distance, mystical and enchanting.
Alex already had plans to save enough to buy a small sailing boat next summer. They might even make the trip all the way across the lake to Chile. Frankie wondered whether he missed Pushkin or jetting around the world, but if he did, he never said so. Like Frankie, he seemed to relish the simplicity of their new life together. And now she felt more than ever that they’d always been meant to live this way.
The bell in the old church was chiming midday in the small town as Frankie pulled up outside the general store, which doubled as a post office and café. At this time of year, the town was less crowded with tourists. Frankie loved the way everyone stopped to talk to each other and she smiled now at the kids who were skipping on the pavement.
Inside the store, football was blaring out from the TV bracketed to the pockmarked wall. A little dog nosed its way through the swing door into the kitchen and Frankie called out hello. There was a strong smell of coffee and cigarettes. Behind the swing door, she could hear Señora Delgado shouting at the dog in rapid Spanish.
Frankie smiled and stood by the creaky circular rack of postcards, deliberating for ages before choosing the right one. Then she turned to the dusty rack of magazines, picking up the latest edition of Hola! She smiled. Todd Lands was on the cover. Some things never changed.
‘Señor Lands, he’s handsome, no?’ Señora Delgado said. Frankie jumped, realizing she’d been so absorbed she hadn’t noticed her shuffling behind the counter. Señora Delgado had taken a liking to Frankie and made a point of speaking in English.
‘He sure is,’ Frankie agreed.
‘My daughter, she has pictures of him all over her walls. He’s a good Catholic boy. Maybe one day she marry him, eh? It’s a waste for a man like that not to have a wife.’ Señora Delgado picked up the small crucifix around her neck and kissed it.
Frankie laughed. If only she knew the truth.
Todd had been photographed at the Oscar ceremony in LA after the triumphant run of his Broadway play and his surprise nomination for his role in Blue Zero. Frankie touched his face on the magazine, feeling a pang of regret that she’d never see him again. A new unknown actress was standing next to him on
the red carpet in a stunning evening gown and high heels, looking artfully bewildered as she held on to Todd’s hand. How long would it be, Frankie wondered, before the press were all gossiping about the latest pretty woman in Todd Lands’s life? It would break Señora Delgado’s heart.
But if Frankie’s brush with glamour had taught her anything, it was that she wouldn’t swap it for what she had now: living this simple existence with the man of her dreams in total anonymity. A fresh and wonderful new start.
She went to the counter and paid for the magazine and the small postcard she planned on sending. She wouldn’t write anything on it. She’d promised Alex. But when she received it, Emma would know who it was from.
She took her change from Señora Delgado, counting the coins in her hand even though she trusted her implicitly. On their budget, Frankie had to look after every cent. Still, she just about had enough for a chocolate bar. She put it on the counter.
Señora Delgado looked at the chocolate bar and then at Frankie. Her toothy smile was full of joy. ‘It’s a boy, huh?’ she whispered, nodding at Frankie.
Frankie gasped. For a moment, she thought about denying it, but she was already blushing. ‘How did you know?’ she asked.
Señora Delgado smiled. ‘I know,’ she said. ‘It’s written all over your face. So serene. So happy.’ She patted Frankie’s hand. ‘I told Pablo: I think Señora Mendola is having a boy.’
Frankie ran her hands over her stomach, trying to imagine how it would feel in a few weeks when her bump was bigger and she started to show. She smiled back. She didn’t mind whether it was a boy, but secretly she hoped her and Alex’s baby was a girl. She had a feeling it was. And Frankie knew that her future happiness would grow from the seeds of the past. And when her baby girl was born, Frankie knew exactly what she’d call her: Peaches Emma.
