by Jayne Lind
Taylor was bundled into a black van and driven to Dulles Airport, where indeed, she found she did have a first class seat. And she was told to board ahead of any of the other passengers, even others in First Class. As the other passengers boarded, she was sure that one of the men in that section looked a bit familiar, her ever-present shadow.
So much had happened in two months, that it seemed she’d been gone forever. She was going back to her little flat in Notting Hill. She would be able to go to the street market this next Saturday morning. She would once again start up her practice. Her life would go on as if none of this had ever happened.
So she thought…..
When she pushed her trolley through the arrival lounge at Heathrow, she was met by blinding flashes from a crowd of reporters. “Dr. Leigh, can you tell us about the President? Dr. Leigh, did you know he was crazy? Dr. Leigh, just a few moments of your time,” they shouted.
She had no idea this would happen. Her friend Karen was there to meet her and immediately, the men who had obviously accompanied her on the trip, surrounded them both and took them to Karen’s car. What should have been a joyous homecoming became a disaster. “Whew!” Taylor said as Karen maneuvered the car out of the airport.
Karen looked over at her and said wryly, “Welcome home. I guess you know you’re a celebrity now.”
“Well, that’s the last thing in the world I want. What are they saying about me?”
“The tabloids have been full of the fact that a psychologist from London went to the White House to help the President’s wife. I’m afraid they didn’t wait for the facts to be found out, but as usual, made up a few things here and there.”
Taylor’s heart sank. All she wanted was to resume her normal life. “Maybe it won’t last long,” she said hopefully. “Maybe they’ll move on to something else tomorrow.”
Karen looked in the rear view mirror. “It looks like someone is following us. What should I do?”
Taylor took her mobile out of her handbag. “I’m going to call the police.”
She dialed 999 and told the operator what was happening. He asked for her location and said he would see what he could do. Within ten minutes, they heard a siren behind them. Looking into the rear view mirror, Karen said, “The reporter’s cars have been pulled over to the side. It looks like we’re going to have a police escort now.” They both breathed a sigh of relief. “Well,” she said, “I imagine you have a lot to tell me.”
“I know, and I have to apologize for all the lies I told you. I had to and I’m sorry. I didn’t like doing it.”
Karen laughed. “I understand, don’t worry. We’ve just have to get you home safe.”
The next week was terrible. Taylor couldn’t enjoy being home because there were reporters on her doorstep every time she left. She was famous, all right. Pictures of her walking through the airport had been superimposed onto pictures of the White House and all sorts of lurid stories were written about her in the tabloids. She was contacted by the Sun and offered a half million pounds for an exclusive story. Of course, she wasn’t going to sell her story, but it bothered her that the facts were being distorted. It was said she was in the White House to treat the President. The broadsheets were more factual, but there was still so much secrecy around President Carlson that it left huge holes for speculation to drive through. As far as Taylor knew, he was still in hospital, Beth was in Vermont, and the Vice-President was running the country. She hoped, fervently, for the sake of the country, the President would resign, as did Nixon. Otherwise, it was obvious he would have to be impeached. She was not in contact with Beth and worried about her.
Her home phone number had to be disconnected and poor Tina, at Taylor’s office, was inundated as well with phone calls and reporters showing up unexpectedly. Taylor finally told her to tell them she wasn’t returning to that group of colleagues, that she was taking a break and would find other office space at a later date.
Taylor’s mother, of course, found out what she had really been doing in the States ‘all that time’ as she put it and berated her for not coming to visit again before she left the country. It was useless to explain, as Taylor knew she only saw things from her own point of view. No concern, no worry, no praise, no nothing except criticism. Oh, well, Taylor was used to that from her, but now, somehow her anger was melting away. She was able to look at her mother more objectively. After all, even though everyone could change if he or she wanted to, her mother hadn’t had the advantage of therapy. And as she had told Beth, personality disorders were pretty dug in. She knew her mother wouldn’t change.
After a week of feeling once more imprisoned in her home, the reporters disappeared. An email from Josh explained that he had obtained a restraining order and they would no longer bother her. What a relief! Yet she still wondered if someone wasn’t following her in disguise when she was out and about.
Josh was able to phone her now and they had long conversations almost daily or nightly. He couldn’t tell her where he was, but she picked up clues now and then by whether his day was beginning or ending when he phoned. He was able to find out some news from Beth and sent Taylor a secure email from her.
Dear Taylor: I’m here where I want to be, and my mother and I have been out in the garden, even though it’s cold. We bundled up and enjoyed the freshness of the autumn air, making plans for a Thanksgiving dinner. And speaking of Thanksgiving, I am very, very thankful to you and for you. It would have been so much more difficult without your support, without your obvious caring, and without the expert therapy. The Prozac, as you once said, can’t do everything! I hope there will be a method of communication whereby we can keep in touch. And I’m going to hold you to that invitation to the city where you live. By the way, Ben is here for the weekend and he’s doing very well. He also feels free. Love, Beth
One morning, several weeks after she’d returned, an email from Josh improved her mood exponentially.
Hi there T: Well, I’m coming back to the city where you are. So it won’t be long now until we once again see each other. I will probably be there for awhile on my next assignment. Warning, you may get tired of having me around. I love you—J.
Chapter Twenty-two
The sun beams down on two people lying on a beach. A cerulean blue sky covers the horizon, there is a soft, warm breeze, and gentle waves lap at the shore. It isn’t just any beach—it’s the Lido in Venice. Taylor is lying face down on a beach towel, her face turned toward Josh lying next to her. It isn’t a dream this time, Josh is dressed appropriately in swim trunks and his hand covers hers. Yes, it is possible to be happy.
Sometimes it’s just a long wait.
Author’s note: If you enjoyed reading this book, please say so on amazon.com or amazon.co.uk. Thanks!
