“Veronique, ma Cherie, what happened? Oh my God.”
Veronique jumped at the sound of the voice. She hadn’t even heard Marie come in. Marie switched off the water and leant down to hold her friend. She held her for a moment and gently rocked her before asking again.
“What happened, my love?” She looked at her lover’s bruised and battered face, feeling sudden sadness and anger constrict her own throat. She moved back and noted the bump on her temple, the bleeding cuts, the swollen lip, the black eye and the red welts on her wrist and bruises up and down the length of her arms. Veronique said nothing but sobbed quietly. Her normally strong personality and character now lost in a childlike need for protection, and a mother’s love.
“Come with me. I will help get you sorted out.” Marie helped Veronique stand. She helped her into the warm and fluffy toweling robe. Veronique leant into her as they walked into her bedroom.
“I was mugged, I am just...” her eyes looked down as she spoke. “How did I get here? How did I get back to the ship?” She vaguely remembered being carried, but didn’t know by whom. Whoever it was, she was grateful to him, her knight in shining armour.
“Don’t worry about that now; you are here and safe. You’re in shock.”
Veronique sobbed at the kindness that Marie was showing her; here she was lying to her lover and best friend. Her whole life was a lie. Marie was the only person who had been by her side all these years, and she never knew the real her. She couldn’t reveal her heartache or her anguish, nor could she tell her that she was going to have to leave, plan a whole new life without her, without even saying goodbye. Veronique sobbed again.
“There, there, it will all be ok. I will look after you. Just relax.” She popped Veronique into bed and pulled the covers over her. “I will get Richard to pop in and see you. Check you over; maybe give you a pill to help you rest. I think you need to fill in a police report too. Whoever did this to you should be locked up and put away.”
Veronique stiffened at the thought of involving the police and all the repercussions it would entail.
“No, I didn’t see who it was. It was all so sudden. I can’t tell them anything.”
“Shhh, Just rest, maybe it will come back to you later, any small detail may help.” Marie kissed her gently on the forehead and patted her hand. “I’ll be right here, by your side. Someone can cover my duties tonight.” She picked up the phone and called the ship’s doctor. “Richard, could you kindly come to Veronique’s cabin right away?”
Later, after the doctor had been and sedated Veronique, there was a knock at the door. It was the captain. Marie’s surprise at his appearance was obvious on her face.
“May I come in?”
“Of course, Captain,” Marie was flustered and stepped back to let him in. “She is resting. She was mugged. The doctor thought it best that she rest, and so he has sedated her.”
He nodded and looked over to the sleeping form on the bed. He walked over and put his hand on Veronique’s hand.
“Can you leave us alone for a moment?” Marie looked perplexed and suddenly felt very protective of Veronique.
“I promised her I would not leave her side.”
“It’s alright Marie, I would not hurt her, nor behave improperly. Kindly wait outside the door just for a moment.” She hesitated, and then quietly left the room, the door clicking quietly behind her as she left.
Nico sat on the bed. Veronique was sleeping deeply. Her chest rising and falling evenly. She was very pale, her hair was limp, and a large plaster was covering a stitched cut on a red and sore looking lump. Marie and the doctor had done their best, but it was obvious she was not well. He leant forward and kissed her lightly on the forehead, his hand covered hers protectively.
As he moved back, her eyes flickered and opened briefly. They did not show recognition, only momentary fear, and then they closed again. Nico leant forward and whispered in her ear.
“You do not realize it my love, but I love you. I will always love you.” In her slumber, Veronique groaned, her head moving slowly from side to side.
“No Matt,” she mumbled, “No, I shall escape you.” She tried to lash out, but her weak efforts meant her arms raised only a few inches off the bed. He touched her arm to calm her. He was shocked to see the severe bruising under the edges of her pyjama top.
“It’s all right. You are safe.” He repeated the words over and over again until her restless sleep calmed.
When she opened her eyes there was a fuzzy; white blur sat by her bed. She felt so sleepy. Her eyes were so heavy, every thing felt as though it was in slow slow motion. Someone was sitting by her bed, and she tried hard to focus. She could see the pale outline of a white jacket from the low light in the room. Light glinted off the buttons. Her head ached and the dull throb clouded her thoughts. She lay back again and waited for the pain to subside. Whoever was with her, had fallen asleep in the chair. Must be the doctor, she thought. She felt safe and drifted back to sleep. Matt haunted her dreams. She saw her life right from the beginning, from the first time he had touched her and manipulated her. It was a cinematic full Technicolour production. Every sadistic smile of his, every touch that had made her skin crawl, every act of brain washing and mind control that he had ever done to her. He had purposefully groomed and molded her to be his sex slave, his plaything, forever. He had never shown her the true kindness and the love of a brother, but instead had been more evil than the worst of men. She had unwittingly, through the lost innocence of her childhood, been oblivious to his true masochistic nature, giving of herself fully, and believing that this was how a loving brother treated a sister he loved. After all, he told her he loved her, didn’t he? How would she know the difference, if this were all he showed her? She moaned in her sleep at the dawning realization of everything she had been through. In her dreams, she decided she would never see her brother again, ever.
She was brought back to the painful reality of life when she tried to move. She groaned and slowly tried to reposition herself in the bed. At her side, Nico woke up and leant forward into the light over her bed.
Veronique stopped, her heart suddenly beating faster as the adrenaline hit her system and her fear levels went through the roof. She raised her hand to her temple as the pain suddenly increased ten thousand fold to match her raised heartbeat. “Shh, quiet. You’re safe.” His voice spoke softly and his eyes were full of concern. He raised his hand to soothe her brow, and she flinched, just at his sudden movement. He stopped for a second until she relaxed a little, and then slowly, gently traced her brow with his thumb to soothe her. She was as nervous as a skittish mare. Horses were once his thing and when he was a boy, he rode all day and night around his family’s farm. He recognized her temperament was like a scared horse, and he treated her with the same gentleness, he had treated the horses in that past.
“Captain, what are you doing here?” Her voice was a croaking whisper that seemed, to her, to boom across the room.
“I wanted to be sure you were all right. Do you remember what happened?”
“I...I...was...mugged.”
“Really? Where?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Do you remember how many there were?”
“One...maybe two.” She winced in pain.
“I shall contact the police and ask them to come in and take your statement. Tomorrow you may remember more.”
“No! Please don’t, please.” Her hand reached out and held his for a moment “Please I can’t. You don’t understand.”
He looked at her pale vulnerability. Where was the strong woman who always held him in check; the woman he battled with verbally? The woman who had been the thorn in his side in every respect these past years? He didn’t recognize the spiritually and emotionally broken woman before him now. He felt his anger rising, felt the protection she needed. He had failed her when she had needed him. He would have made sure she was ok and safe. It was his job as the man who loved her, to ensure she was
never harmed, or in harm’s way again. He had seen the marks on her wrist, the bruises; and he knew a random mugger hadn’t done this. A mugger would make a flash attack, grabbed a bag, run away. The attack would have been shocking, but over in seconds. This had been a beating; a very severe beating and probably by someone she knew. A beating that had inflicted all these injuries, was not a mugging, it was an out and out attack. But why would she protect her attacker? It had to be someone she knew and he had an idea of who it could be, because at the moment, none of her mugging story was making sense.
“Rest my sweet. Everything will be ok. Leave it with me. Know you are safe. Nothing will ever happen to you again.” He smiled at her tenderly, his eyes full of emotion.
She shut her eyes, reassured by the presence of someone who made her feel safe. Until recently she had loathed this man with a capital “L”, yet now when she needed someone to be strong for her, he was there to help. How she had misjudged him. The man who had tricked her into his bed was now comforting her with all the tenderness of a parent to a child. Perhaps she could love him. She turned over, and drifted into a deep troubled sleep, because her thoughts told her she would have to leave him as well.
Later, when she next opened her eyes, Nico had gone and Marie was sitting by her bed, her eyes showing concern.
“Hello you, how you feeling?”
Veronique smiled. For the first time since the beginning of their relationship, something had come between them. Gone were the physical stirrings normally aroused at the sight of Marie. Instead, there was a comfortable feeling of closeness and friendship. Veronique started to speak.
“Marie, something has happened.”
“Shh, yes I know. Don’t worry, you are safe now.”
“No. You don’t understand.”
“Hush, rest, there will be plenty of time to talk later.”
“No, I must tell you something.”
“Yes of course,” Marie sat forward, patiently waiting and smiling. Veronique searched for the words that would tell her gently; the words that would break her friend’s heart. Words that she thought she would never say to her. The words that told her she would always love her, but never again in the same way.
Marie saw the pain flickering across Veronique’s face as she struggled to say something. She instinctively knew what and felt a stab of pain in her heart. There was one other time someone had looked at her this same way. Greg, just before he told her he no longer loved her. It was the same look and it was the last time she had seen him. That memory lingered with her every day and had never vanished. The words were engraved on her mind, on her heart and now, she prepared herself to hear them again. She steeled herself then she started to speak quietly.
“Veronique, no, you rest. Let me speak then you can have your say. I am sorry, there is no easy way to say this and I have been looking for the right words for such a long time. I don’t know how to make them less painful.” She paused, and then continued gently, the words clear and slow. “You have been everything to me.” The words began to choke in her throat, but she swallowed hard and fought back the tears. “You have always been there for me, I don’t know how to tell you this, but I don’t ever want to lie to you as a friend, as my lover. I cant bear it.” She sniffed and wiped away a tear. Next would be the biggest lie she would ever have to say. “But I have met someone else. I don’t want to lose your friendship. You will always be special to me, but we can’t go on like this.”
Veronique put her hand up to Marie and held her hand. She knew that Marie had understood what she was going to say to her. She understood too, that she had helped her end it, by cutting out her own heart and giving it to her friend. Veronique started to cry too, she opened her arms, Marie hugged her and together they sobbed.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Together with their joint tears, they washed away their relationship and their mutual past. Their chapter together was over.
Lying in bed after Marie had gone, gave Veronique the chance to think. She knew that she would have to escape Matt, and to do so, she would have to change her identity, her job, her looks, everything about herself. She would have to create a whole new persona, a new life, a new history and a new career resume. She would have to leave everyone that knew her to date behind. It wasn’t going to be easy, but she could see no alternative.
Her role would have to be in shipping as that was all she knew. She could use her existing knowledge, her languages. Besides, shipping was in her blood.
***
Now, having given a few months’ notice from the moment she was able to work, she grew restless to leave. She no longer left the ship in France. Her relationship with the captain grew closer, day-by-day, but was totally platonic after the ‘mugging incident.’ She had developed a gentle professional respect for him, but was careful to not allow another situation that could compromise her professionalism. Careful planning consumed her. She could leave the ship earlier, by using her accrued holiday allowance, and this would allow her more flexibility.
Leafing through the papers a few weeks later Veronique had been delighted to find a role that matched her skills. An English company was looking for a multi-lingual ambassador. They were in the yacht chartering business, looking to set up global operations. The position would primarily be based in the UK, but with global travel, and a later relocation to maybe the Bahamas or Spain. It included an attractive salary, executive accommodation, all expenses, a car and extensive worldwide travel. Veronique couldn’t wait to contact them and strode quickly back to her cabin to call them. This would be the perfect role for her; she had all the experience they were looking for. She had immediately emailed her resume to them. They were due to dock later that day in Palma de Majorca, and if things went well she could leave the ship that day, and fly straight there. Another few weeks later, she still hadn’t heard anything, and decided to call them and check what the current situation was.
“Hello? Smythe Yacht International Ltd,” the voice was cool and professional at the other end of the phone and Veronique’s heart was beating so loudly, she was sure it could be heard on the phone.
“Hello. I am calling about the position advertised in the newspaper. I applied and I am wondering what is happening. Has the role been filled?”
“Who is calling?” Veronique paused a moment then continued confidently.
“Priscilla Harrison.” She had almost said her real name, but was surprised at how easily a fake name had come to her mind and rolled off her tongue just as easily.
“One moment.” Margaret stood up and looked around the door into Dean’s office and saw him still scanning other resumes on his desk. She saw the frustration on his face.
“Dean, I have a call for you, from a Priscilla Harrison, about the vacancy.”
“Ok put her through.” He waited for the call to be transferred to his phone. “Hello, this is Dean Montalban Smythe.”
“Hello Sir, I sent my resume through to you recently,” as she spoke, he was leafing through all the papers on his desk, looking for her letter. “I haven’t heard anything and I wanted to know when you would like to interview me? I am flying to the UK today and will be available later this afternoon, if you are free?”
The conversation continued and Veronique was able to answer all his questions as well as tell him about herself. They arranged to meet later that day for an interview. She explained she was flying in from Palma and would call him on her arrival in the UK. She had been pleasantly surprised at his candor regarding the job, and also his easy conversation sprinkled with a quiet sense of humor. She couldn’t wait to leave the ship.
Disembarking later that day, she turned and took one last look at the ship that had been her home for the past few years. No one knew of her plans. Her luggage, and few personal belongings, had been disguised in a rucksack and a canvas picnic basket, and to all intents and purposes, she was going for a day out. Only those at the head office knew today was her last day.
A new cruise director would be reporting for duty that evening. She looked up at the bridge and saw the captain speaking with his first officer. She smiled as he looked her way briefly and waved. She waved back and walked away. Each step taking her towards her new life.
Veronique booked into a hotel near the marina. This would give her the opportunity to change her appearance before she met him. She was going to dye her hair a rich dark brown with black streaks to add depth. She had bought green contacts to change the colour of her blue eyes. In addition, she bought some expensive glasses with clear lenses to give her the appearance of needing to wear them. With a new hairstyle consisting of a loose chignon and a completely different style of clothes, even Veronique didn’t recognize herself in the mirror. The only difference she didn’t like about herself, was that her new clothes felt a little tighter than when she had bought them a few days before. The skirt pulled across her slightly bulging and bloated tummy, her breasts were fuller and tender. She shrugged and blamed water retention then she twirled slowly and smiled. She realized that too broad a grin made her recognizable, and so she practised a smaller smile, showing less teeth. She was going to have to be an actress to reinvent herself, but luckily as Dean didn’t know the true her. It wouldn’t matter if she made a few mistakes as she grew into her new identity. She exuded a subtle charm, an air of sophistication, a sexual confidence and a sense of success, something that only years of breeding and experience could produce. To test her new look, she sat in a nearby cafe and watched as people walked by, as they laughed and chatted together at nearby tables. She watched with interest as an attractive man came and sat at a table close to hers. He had attractive blonde hair, the most beautiful piercing blue eyes. Eyes that held you if he looked at you. He glanced briefly across at her and then looked down at his newspaper. It was nearing the mid afternoon and she watched through her Bulgari sunglasses as he ordered a coffee and then continued reading. He had an ease about him in the clothes he was wearing and was the most interesting person to watch. Others at surrounding tables were tourists, families, a few young couples, too into each other to see anyone else, but he had something about him. She recognized a quiet torment about him, something that told her he kept himself very much in control. His clothes were not special; a pair of light beige trousers and a crisp white shirt, a blue blazer over the back of his chair. His style was smart, casual and yet he wore it so well. It gave him the look of a male model. Whether he knew it or not, women would take two looks at him. She smiled and called the waiter over to pay her bill. It was time for her to go over to Smythe Yacht International and introduce herself.
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