by A. E. Radley
“What are the chances of expediting this matter?” she asked.
“We’ll do our best, but the French courts are slow. To get her American identification officially recognised and name you as power of attorney, you will need to go to court. When Gareth gets there, he will set up an emergency appointment. Hopefully that will be this afternoon, but more likely first thing tomorrow morning. Once you have that, it’s a matter of going to the American embassy and getting an emergency passport so that she can travel.”
It sounded longwinded and exhausting. Victoria poured herself some tea. “And how long will an emergency passport take?”
“Same day, there’s a walk-in service. As long as it isn’t a weekend or a public holiday,” he replied. “But I can’t make any promises, this is very much out of our hands. And pushing them will just make the process slower.”
Victoria’s phone vibrated on the table, and she looked at the screen. HR had finally earned the redecoration of their offices.
“I have the photocopy of her passport,” she told him. She forwarded the email to Michael. “I just sent it to you.”
His iPad pinged. “Great, I have it. I’ll send it to Gareth so he can speak to the embassy and get the ball rolling.” He yawned again, swiping the screen to unlock it.
“Do you need anything else from me? I’m rather fed up with seeing your tonsils on a fifty-inch screen.”
He chuckled. “Sorry, it’s early here…”
“So everyone keeps informing me,” she muttered.
“Oh,” he said as he looked at his iPad.
She looked at him and frowned. “What?”
“Nice-looking girl.” He looked at her over the top of his iPad, a cheeky look clear in his eyes.
Victoria shrugged. “I suppose she is.”
“Mm.” He waggled his eyebrows.
“Oh, go away,” she told him.
“I’ll get to it, don’t worry. And Gareth will contact you when he arrives. He’s very good, I have complete faith in him,” Michael reassured her.
Victoria was still cross at being mocked. She simply shrugged her shoulders again and focused her attention on the lavish spread that the hotel had provided her.
“Good,” she said simply.
“I’ll contact you later,” Michael said, wisely choosing to stop teasing her. He disconnected the call.
Victoria reached for the remote control and switched off the television. Her thirty-plus-year friendship with Michael often led to mutual teasing, but she suddenly found herself without a sense of humour. Her mind swam with questions, theories, and fears. Mostly fears.
Holly had been at the brunt of Victoria’s moods ever since she started at Arrival. Someone with no understanding or care about fashion working for one of the most powerful women in fashion was laughable. Victoria had assumed she’d be gone within a week.
As they crossed the threshold into her second month of employment, Victoria realised that Holly had staying power but still no interest in fashion. Sure, she’d improved her dress sense, but she was using the role as a segue into editorial. Not that that affected her determination. In fact, it made her one of the best assistants that Victoria had ever had.
Disastrously so.
Holly was always a few steps ahead of Victoria’s needs. Ordering lunch, sending for cars, and booking meetings before she said a word.
While that should have been a dream come true, it was actually infuriating. Holly possessed an understanding of and familiarity with Victoria’s needs that was distracting.
And so, Victoria rebelled.
The lunch was thrown in the trash, the car was cancelled, the meeting was delayed. Victoria tried to assert her authority, to not feel as transparent. She demeaned the girl, chastised her publicly, and sent her on ridiculous errands in the hope of her failing.
But Holly didn’t back down. She redoubled her efforts to be everything Victoria needed and more. To be the best assistant.
They were stuck in a battle of wills, with one participant having no idea they were even at war.
And now the tables were turned. Holly would be utterly dependant on Victoria. She’d have control over her life, her finances, her living arrangements, and her medical treatment.
In her heart, she knew she hadn’t been truthful at the hospital. While she hadn’t outright lied, she hadn’t been forthcoming with the truth. She hadn’t explained to Holly who she was, what she was like, how she was feared and even hated at times. She certainly hadn’t mentioned how Holly surely loathed her.
The knowledge that she may have found Holly only to lose her again, forever, was terrifying. And so, she shaped her own story. She omitted certain pieces of information from her conversations with both Charlotte and Holly.
Once the girl was safely home and recovering, then Victoria would show her true colours. Of course, there was a fine line to be walked. A balance to be had. She couldn’t run the risk that Holly’s memories might return before she had to chance to expose the truth of their relationship. Having power of attorney came with certain responsibilities, and honesty was one of them.
She speared a slice of apple from a plate and delicately bit into the flesh.
Still, she realised that she had time. Holly’s memories wouldn’t return in a flash, Charlotte had told her as much, which gave her the opportunity to be what Holly needed her to be. And if in the process she managed to cleanse her guilt, so be it.
11
The grand building sparkled with polished glass and white marble. Victoria stepped into the wine bar and removed her oversized sunglasses. The floor manager quickly approached her.
“Madame Hastings, a pleasure. Your guest has already arrived.”
He gestured to a booth at the back of the restaurant. She handed her coat and scarf to a waiter. She caught sight of her reflection in a gold-framed mirror and reached up to softly pat her fringe, ensuring that every hair laid correctly.
She approached the table, her hand out. “Gareth?”
Gareth Walker stood up and shook her hand. “Ms Hastings, nice to meet you.”
“Victoria,” she instructed.
She gestured for him to take his seat again and sat opposite him.
Michael had promised slick efficiency from his man in London. Victoria’s eyes were drawn to his crumpled suit, askew tie, and messy hair. On the table were folders haphazardly stuffed with papers.
She hoped that appearances were deceptive.
“Would you like tea?” Victoria asked, eager to give the hovering waiter a task so they could get on with business.
Gareth nodded. “That sounds lovely.”
Victoria turned to the waiter. “Tea,” she ordered in a soft tone.
The waiter opened his mouth as if to ask a further question but thought better of it at her glare. He hurried away, and she turned back to Gareth expectantly.
“Thank you for agreeing to meet with me at such short notice,” Gareth started. “I have been to the court and to the embassy, and I have scheduled in a few appointments for tomorrow.”
Victoria maintained a neutral expression. She was already massively delayed. Even if Gareth snapped his fingers and produced the necessary signed documentation, a passport, and an airline ticket for a flight departing within the hour, it still wouldn’t be enough to fix the damage that had already been done. If he was expecting a round of applause, he better have discovered a way to bend time.
“I have spoken with the hospital legal team, and all of the paperwork for the power of attorney has been prepared. We have a meeting with the French judge first thing in the morning. I intend that we will be done with that process around eleven. At midday, we have an appointment with the American Embassy. They have most of the passport application paperwork ready but will, of course, need to see and photograph Holly.”
Victoria raised an eyebrow. It was looking more positive than she had expected.
“And when will the passport be issued?” she asked.
“Wi
thin half an hour, they just need to stamp the forms and then print it. They have most of it prepared. If you wish, you could book yourself a flight tomorrow afternoon and be back in New York in time for dinner.”
Victoria sat back and pierced Gareth with a glare. “And then?”
Gareth frowned. “I’m sorry?”
“I was led to believe that this would be an enormous legal undertaking. You’re telling me that both Holly and myself will be able to fly home tomorrow afternoon?”
Gareth picked up folder and flipped it open, searching through various official-looking documents. “There are a number of documents I need you to sign,” he said. “And we must discuss the legal obligations when it comes to a power of attorney.”
He pulled out a few papers and stacked them up.
Two waiters came by the table with trays filled with cups and saucers. They lowered the trays to the table and started to remove the items one by one.
Victoria shooed them away. “It’s fine, we’ll deal with it.”
The waiters hurried away, and Victoria pushed the trays aside so they could continue to speak.
She leaned on the table. “But we’re free to go tomorrow?” Victoria clarified.
“Yes, Michael explained that you needed this to be resolved as quickly as possible, so I leaned on a few contacts and pulled in a few favours.”
She sat back and chuckled lightly. “I’m impressed.”
“You haven’t had the bill yet,” Gareth muttered good-naturedly. He picked up a piece of paper and turned it around as he handed it to her.
“The price is irrelevant.” She took the paper and winced. It was written in a font so small that only people in the legal profession were able to decipher it. She reached into her handbag and pulled out her reading glasses.
“I met with Holly this afternoon,” Gareth said. “She seems a lovely girl, such a shame what happened to her. Whatever that was. It seems that there are parts of the puzzle we’ll never know.”
“Indeed,” Victoria murmured. She wasn’t in the mood for small talk. The paper she was reading seemed to form part of a document regarding the power of attorney. Judging by the fact that the sheet of paper was crammed with words, and seemed to only contain the opening statement, it would be a hefty document.
“So, you must have been close?” Gareth fished.
“She was my second assistant,” Victoria replied without looking up.
She heard Gareth exhale lightly. “I’m not snooping. I need to deliver a statement to the court. The question as to why Holly was initially left in France, why no one followed up on her disappearance, and why you are now suddenly taking full legal responsibility for her is going to be raised.”
Victoria lowered the document and glowered at him.
Gareth seemed completely unaffected by the stare that usually sent people running. He pulled a tea tray closer and prepared a cup for himself.
“I’m your legal representative,” he explained. “You can tell me as little or as much as you like. You can also just tell me what you would like me to convey to the judge. I work for you. But whether it’s the truth or a version of it, we need to come up with something that the judge will believe.”
She placed the paper on the table and slowly removed her glasses, which she placed atop the document to better glare at Gareth.
“I’m sure you’re aware of the rumours surrounding me,” Victoria offered. “I’m not the easiest of people to work for.”
“I’ve heard.”
“Holly leaving my side last year was, in some ways, to be expected. My staff, especially my assistants, don’t have the longest shelf life. She’s not the first girl to walk away from me.”
“And you didn’t suspect it strange that she might do such a thing?” Gareth asked.
Victoria sniffed. “No. Well…” She paused and considered the question again. “Maybe. Assistants have left without notice in the past; suddenly deciding they don’t want a job with opportunity and status, and leaving to do some menial task for someone I’ve never heard of. But prior to it actually happening, I would never have thought Holly capable of such a thing.”
“So, you’d say it was out of character for her?”
Victoria leaned back and blew out a breath. “Maybe. We’d had a tense week. Though I hadn’t pegged Holly as someone who would walk away from me when I needed her most, it had been a stressful week. I can see how the girl may have been on edge.”
“Michael said her belongings were gone from the hotel?”
Victoria nodded. “Which indicates that she didn’t snap, walk away from me, and into an oncoming car around the corner.”
“But she could have snapped, gone to the hotel, packed her things, and then been hit by a car,” Gareth pointed out.
“We’ll never know,” Victoria said coldly.
She’d been over the events a hundred times in her mind. She didn’t appreciate Gareth’s input and theorising.
“Did you argue before she left?” Gareth asked.
Victoria snorted a laugh. “Argue? Holly? She could have been absolutely furious with me, and she would never say a word.”
“Would you have known if she were absolutely furious with you?” Gareth picked up a spoon and stirred his tea.
Victoria considered the question. Her kneejerk reaction was to answer yes. But the truth was that she probably wouldn’t. What did she care if her assistant was upset by something?
“I’m not sure why I would care,” Victoria said.
She reached over, grabbed a cup and saucer, and put them in front of her. With a swirl of the teapot she poured herself a cup of the dark liquid.
“I can’t tell the judge that you frequently drive staff to up and quit, that you just assumed Holly had done the same. That you don’t particularly care about your staff and then say that you request power of attorney over someone who left your employment after what you yourself refer to as a tense week.”
Victoria bristled at the implication.
“What do you recommend?” she asked.
“Did you and Holly have a different relationship to that of your previous assistants? Could we explain why you are willing to take this responsibility on?”
“What are you implying?” she asked coldly.
Gareth laughed. “Nothing like that. Just, did you… mentor her? Were you closer because of… I don’t know… a shared love of jazz? Anything?”
Victoria shrugged. “She walked my dog a couple of times. But then so has Louise.”
“Louise?”
“My first assistant. I suppose I did feel closer to Holly, she was extremely good at her job.” She picked up her cup to take a sip.
“Did you socialise?”
Victoria choked a little. She lowered her cup and dabbed her lip with the linen napkin.
“Socialise? No, of course not. She was my second assistant.”
Gareth put down his spoon and lifted his cup. He drank the entire cup of tea in three large gulps. He put the cup back in the saucer and pushed it to one side.
“May I ask why you are doing this? Why do you want power of attorney over Holly? There are alternatives, she could be placed under state care, she—”
“She is coming home with me,” Victoria said firmly.
“But why? You talk as if she was nothing to do with you, other than a good assistant. The only thing that you can think of that proves her being close is that she walked your dog a couple of times. You seem to have no tie to this girl, and yet you’re about to spend a huge amount of time, money, and effort in caring for her. Why?”
“Because I have the time, the money, and I can spare the effort to do so. She’s an exceptional young girl who slipped through the cracks; she clearly has no family and when she joined Arrival we became her family. Holly Carter is a selfless, intelligent, caring human being who didn’t deserve to spend a year of her life thinking that she was forgettable. She was anything but forgettable. I may not be the best person for the job, but I wil
l do my damned utmost to ensure that she has the very best treatment. I will make sure she gets back on her feet and can live the rest of her life to the absolute fullest. I lost her once, I won’t do it again.”
Victoria stopped to take a breath. She held back a gasp at her own outburst. She had no idea where it had come from. Her cheeks started to heat.
“I think I can work with that,” Gareth said. He picked up a stack of papers. “These papers are from the hospital, and they relate to Holly’s treatment to date. It’s probably a good idea for you to familiarise yourself with some of the history, in case the judge asks.”
She took the papers, thankful for the distraction. Tired and stressed, she told herself. Just tired and stressed.
12
It was six o’clock in the evening when Victoria returned to the hospital. She marched up to the reception desk and whisked off her sunglasses.
“Holly Carter, s'il vous plait.”
The receptionist nodded and started typing on her computer before frowning, “Carter? C-A-R-T-E-R?”
Victoria sighed. “She may be listed as Clémence Dubois…”
“Ah, oui.” The receptionist smiled. “You are the lady who has come to take Clémence home?”
“Holly. Carter.” She was losing her patience with the whole Clémence Dubois scenario.
“Of course.” The receptionist ducked her head. “I will call Doctor Fontaine for you. Please, take a seat.” She gestured to a row of plastic chairs lined up against the wall.
Victoria slowly turned to look at the chairs. She sniffed disdainfully and stood tall, refusing to move. She couldn’t recall the last time she had been asked to wait in a reception area. And certainly not in plastic chairs.
The receptionist made a telephone call, and within a few moments Charlotte Fontaine arrived.
“Bonsoir, welcome back.”
“Merci.” Victoria nodded.
“I see your legal team have been working hard. Our legal manager told me that everything seems to be ready for Holly’s departure tomorrow.”
