by Sally Graham
****
As usual, the polished teak table was covered with starched linen and laid immaculately. Tamara had told the crew after her first, strained breakfast, that she was happy to pour her own coffee and, yes, she could serve and even slice her own fruit as well! The maid seemed astonished, but then laughed when she realised that Tamara wasn’t reprimanding her, and since then everything had laid out for her to help herself.
Tamara had almost finished when there was knock on the stateroom door and Konrad, the yacht’s German Michelin-starred chef, joined her.
“It’s your last night aboard, Madam, and I felt you might like a memorable meal to celebrate your time with us,” he said in his heavily accented English. “Would you and Mr Henty have any ideas, or would you like me to prepare a special menu?”
Tamara had come to like Konrad - neither she nor Simon were fancy eaters, and she worried that Konrad was always disappointed when they ordered simple food rather than an extravagant menu that she felt sure he was used to providing. Perhaps tonight they should be gracious and let him show off his skills. Simon still hadn’t appeared, so she decided to make plans and surprise him.
“Konrad, that’s a terrific idea. Let’s surprise Mr Henty. Can I leave it to you to conjure a suitable end-of-vacation meal? I’d love that!” She smiled at him, and the pale German suddenly blushed and wiped an imaginary crumb off his chef’s whites.
“You will not forget it, Madam! Now, if you will excuse me?” and, as if to be spared further embarrassment, he rose, gave a slight bow, and left the cabin.
Tamara was about to finish and return to her cabin to change when Simon walked in and, without speaking, sat down and poured his customary black coffee.
“Hi, Darling,” Tamara greeted him brightly. “Looks like you were pretty tied up back there?”
For a moment Simon, stared at his coffee. “Yes, another hassley call,” he muttered grumpily. “I think it’s time to be getting back - just as well things are coming to an end.”
“You mean the vacation?” Tamara replied.
“Yeah - the holiday, and stuff.” He reached across the table for fruit, without looking at Tamara, and started slicing his pineapple.
“Well, we knew it had to come to an end,” Tamara said quietly. “We’ve got one more evening though.”
“I’m going to be working most of the day,” he said brusquely. “Sorry about that, but I’ve rather neglected things while I’ve been away.”
“Of course, that’s fine,” Tamara said, inwardly hurt at his curt manner, so different from a few hours ago when they had been so passionately intimate. “Are things OK?”
“Of course they’re OK!” he replied angrily, looking at her as though she was a stranger. “But I need to focus on what’s important now.”
As Tamara sat in their cabin later, drying her hair after her shower, she mulled over Simon’s words. So he needs to focus on what’s important, she thought. Is that a message? Am I missing something? I thought that, maybe, there really was something between us.
The rest of the day turned out to be completely different from their carefree hours together. For the first time, Tamara felt shut out of Simon’s life. They met briefly at noon when he looked in to grab a club sandwich, but he didn’t stop to spend any time with Tamara and share what he had been doing. He wasn’t rude, or in any way unpleasant, but simply remote, as though she had suddenly become one of the yacht’s crew, not the woman he had made love to so exquisitely for so long only hours before.
The changing weather meant that Tamara couldn’t sit on the sun deck and enjoy the relaxing view as the yacht began its journey to where they would disembark for their flight back. She decided, instead, to work out in the gym. While they had been on board she had taken advantage of Gina’s role as Simon’s personal trainer and asked her for fitness tips.
“You’re in good shape, Tamara. You just want some variation on your routines. Why not try something new?”
“Like?”
“We’re roughly the same size and weight. How would you like to try kickboxing? It’s great aerobic and strengthening exercise.”
To her surprise, Tamara found the suggestion hugely enjoyable, and had worked out with the blonde bodyguard most days.
“You’ve really taken to this, haven’t you?” Gina grunted as Tamara punch-kicked the gym bag the trainer was holding against her blows.
“I’m just getting rid of cabin fever!” she joked, and landed one final jab on the heavy bag. The exercise had cleared her mind, and as she stood under the steaming shower afterwards, she knew how she might be able to handle Simon’s sudden coldness.
Chapter 14
“So, what have we here?” Simon asked cheerily as he came into the dining stateroom. “Looks like we’re having a party?”
Unlike the simple table arrangement that characterised their meals before, the starched linen was a riot of flowers, silverware and expensive bone china, accompanied by fluted champagne glasses and heavy wine goblets.
“It’s our last night,” Tamara said, kissing him on the cheek. “So we ought to have something special, don’t you think?”
Simon looked at her quickly, as though sensing that she might criticise him for his behaviour during the day, but Tamara smiled at him and they both sat to begin dinner.
When Konrad suggested that he surprise them with a special menu, Tamara had no idea what he had in mind. He appeared as the first course was served: a simple appetiser, as he described it, but which turned out to be an incredible confection of tiny quails eggs, samphire and champagne, to tell them that he was offering them a “tasting menu” that they would never forget.
Simon frowned as the silver trolleys were wheeled away. “What’s going on? I don’t remember ordering this menu.”
“Hey - let’s enjoy! It’s our last night together. And,” Tamara paused, “I haven’t seen much of you today.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he snapped. “I’ve been busy. It’s not just the weather that’s changed, so have the markets. I need to get back to Sydney as quickly as possible. There are some great opportunities.”
“So, we’re twenty-four hours away till we’re back.” And twenty-four hours ago everything was so different.
It seemed not a single dish of Konrad’s cuisine was going to lighten the atmosphere. Tamara’s attempt at conversation was met with curt answers, and she could feel her mood changing from tolerance to irritation. Simon was reverting to type, just as she had thought he was when she first described him to Donna, before this mad excursion became reality.
Simon gulped his coffee and pushed his chair back. “Well, that was an unexpected treat,” he said, smiling for the first time since they had started dinner. “But I’m afraid I’ve got to -“
“Simon - I know what you’re doing,” Tamara said quietly.
He stared at her in surprise, made to move, then slowly sat down again.
“Listen - we’ve had a great time,” she said. “I wasn’t expecting it. You weren’t expecting it - “
“Tamara,” he interrupted, “You don’t have to say say all this - “
“I do, Simon, because you’ve been avoiding me all day. And I know why. This amazing time is coming to an end and we’re having to face that fact. You’re going back to your world and I’m returning to Square Circle Concierge Services. We don’t have to meet again.”
“That’s not what I want,” Simon said, too quickly.
“It’s what you’ve been signalling all day - hiding in the business suite, not turning up for lunch, being struck dumb for most of this meal! I know why you’re behaving like this, and why. ”
“That’s not fair, and you know it. You’re just attention seeking,” he retorted angrily.
Tamara paused. You bastard. “Look, let’s be honest with each other. We’ve had a great time. Simply great. And I’ll never forget you. But, I’d prefer it if what’s happened between us remains on this yacht. We’ve had good times, and gr
eat sex, but we’re not flying back with any extra baggage.”
Simon looked at her, and toyed with the edge of the linen table cloth.
“You’re right,” he said slowly. “I have been thinking about the future. Of course I have. I - I never expected that it would turn out the way it has.”
He stood up and walked around to Tamara, and bent to kiss her neck. She shivered involuntarily with the memory of the last time he had touched her.
“When we get back it’ll be different, he continued. “It’s the real world, not the bubble of unreality we’ve had here.”
Unreality?
She looked at him, suddenly feeling tears well up. Don’t cry. For God’s sake don’t cry.
“Of course we’ll get together, and meet up,” he went on, more confidently. “We’re not going to lose touch.”
“Of course we will, darling -“ She’d said it deliberately, and saw him frown quickly. “But, I’ve got to pack stuff, and Mike said we’ll be leaving first thing to get to the airfield. I think I’ll finish and see you in the morning.”
Simon pulled her chair back, and as she stood up, pulled her gently towards her, holding her gently, as he had always done.
But Tamara lifted his hands away, and left the dining room.
She managed to keep up the appearance of nonchalance until she reached her cabin quarters, but as soon as she had shut the door, she fell sobbing onto her bed. Simon’s enthusiasm for her acknowledgement that their relationship was over stung her more than she ever imagined.
Great sex, I told him. How could I have thought it was anything else?
Dragging herself off the coverlet she flung open the wardrobe doors and pulled her clothes off their hangers before stuffing them into her holdall.
“Tamara?” There was a quiet knock. “Are you OK? We need to talk”
Is he serious?
“I’m fine,” she called back brightly. “I’m just getting my stuff ready for tomorrow, and turning in.”
Chapter 15
At dawn the weather was still poor, and wind flicked white spume at the the launch as it cut through the crests of metallic waves. Simon stared ahead bleakly; he had greeted Tamara with a brief hug, but she had hardly slept and could do no more than hold him half-heartedly.
Simon’s support team sensed the change in atmosphere; Gina didn’t look at Tamara, and after helping load their bags into the limousine that would take them to the military airfield where they had landed, she moved quickly to join the others in their mini-bus without speaking to Tamara.
When they were alone, Simon turned to Tamara. “This isn’t good,” he said awkwardly. “I didn’t want things to end like this.”
“I didn’t either,” Tamara muttered. “But there it is. We live in different worlds and it was crazy ever to think otherwise.”
“That’s not fair. It doesn’t do justice to the last ten days. We had something special but -“
“But it was just like one of your business deals, wasn’t it?” Tamara said bitterly. “You saw an opportunity, you moved in, and did a trade. Game over.”
Simon suddenly turned and lifted his hand and for a moment Tamara flinched and thought he was going to reach across the seat and slap her, but he sank back into his seat.
“If that’s how you want to read it, fine,” he said wearily. “I can’t change that,” and he turned away from her to stare at the passing dark green cypress trees.
The driver’s intercom broke the unhappy silence. “You have clearance to leave as soon as we arrive, sir. The next slot won’t be for a couple of hours.”
“Just get us there as quickly, thanks. Tell them we’ll leave immediately,” Simon answered grimly.
Tamara felt a strange relief as the Gulfstream powered into the sky and Italy receded below them. She was going home, back to normality, to the office, to her apartment, to a normal life.
The strain between between them didn’t lessen, and throughout the return flight Simon and Tamara barely spoke a handful of sentences to each other.
Chapter 16
“Wow! You look great,” Donna cried as she hugged Tamara when she walked into the office. “So you had a good time?”
“It was terrific,” Tamara lied, “But it’s great to be back,” she added truthfully. “So, what have I missed?”
It was a relief to slip back into the normality of the workaday week. Donna’s light hearted personality, the work that was waiting for her to catch up with, and the gossip that had accumulated while she was away, all combined to lift Tamara’s spirits. The next couple of days were spent fitting together the different pieces of the jigsaw that made up her working life, and Tamara relished the return to being busy, and the opportunity to get Simon out of her life.
“You’ve got a glow, you know,” Donna told her as they finished work at the end of the week a fortnight later. “It’s not a holiday tan, either.”
“I’m still on vacation, then,” Tamara laughed as they walked to the elevator. “The thing is, I’m feeling pretty good, somehow more energised.”
“So, are youcoming with me tomorrow night? Let’s meet for a drink and - “
“Are you through with your man, then?” Tamara teased, following Donna out of the building.
“Well, let’s say that he didn’t turn out to be the guy I thought he was.”
I know just what you mean.
“It’ll be fun to meet. How about that new place that’s just opened?”
Donna looked at her in amazement. “Wow! You’ve never said ‘Yes’. Don’t back out now! Seven o’clock!” she shouted as she dashed across the road.
Tamara stood watching her disappear into the stream of commuters heading for the weekend. It’s true, she thought to herself. I am feeling more alive. Maybe the vacation with Simon hadn’t been all bad.
But however hard she tried to immerse herself in work, she still found her thoughts returning to Italy, and once or twice at night she had woken, hot and restless, her dream potent with the memory of the way his lithe body felt beneath her, the way he pulled her onto him as he kissed her, and the way he had excited her and entered with masterful strength.
Get over it! Move on!
“Tamara? Can I see you for a moment?”
“Sure, what’s up?” Tamara looked up at Donna’s worried expression as she came into her office next day.
“I think you’d better look at this,” Donna said, closing the door and putting a newspaper on Donna’s desk. It was open on page 3, the usual page for lurid celebrity exposés.
Tamara was dizzy as she took in the bold headline: BILLIONAIRE BEDS MYSTERY BLONDE BEAUTY! Immediately below was a blow-up photograph of the yacht. Even though the picture had been taken with a telephoto lens it was not so grainy that you couldn’t make out Simon standing next to a woman that anyone who knew her would recognise as Tamara. He was bending over her, and several other pictures showed him rubbing her back as she leaned towards him. To all intents and purposes it was intimate behaviour, rather than a solicitous act of concern after she’d been attacked.
That frigging boatload of paparazzi after I was mugged!
Tamara wanted to be sick.
“I guess I should have said something,” she said to Donna. “I’m sorry.”
Before she could go on, her intercom buzzed. “Ms Tremaine? It’s Tom McNaught from the public relations department. Do you want to take the call?”
“I think I’d better,” she said weakly.
“Tamara? What’s going on? We’re getting swamped with calls over this story about you and Simon Henty. Is it true? What do you want me to say? What do YOU want to say? How do we handle it? I’m getting emails from New York about the publicity. They don’t want anything that’s going to rock the boat before the stock market flotation next month…. Tamara?”
Tamara sat mute, disbelief freezing her reactions. “Tom - stop. Wait. I don’t know. OK - I was on holiday - “
“On holiday with one of the richest guys who isn
’t American or Russian? Listen, Tamara, the wolves are howling. I can’t hold them off!”
“Can’t you tell them it was a private trip? Don’t we have privacy laws in this country?”
“Forget privacy, for God’s sake. I’m afraid your privacy fell overboard when those pictures were taken.” Tom was shouting, and Tamara and Donna could hear a background cacophony of calls in his office. Donna snatched the phone from Tamara.
“Tom - stall them for as long as you can. Play the privacy card. I’ll get Tamara out of the office so she can lie low. She can stay at my place OK? Will that do?”
