“Congratulations, Jake. I’m sure you were leading the charge.”
“It was definitely a team effort. You ready?” he asked.
“One second.” Giselle put on a felt hat and pulled it low over her eyes and donned a pair of reflector sunglasses.
“Yeah. Right. No one’s going to recognize you with such a great disguise.” He’d recognize her anywhere, whatever ensemble she wore.
“No one expects me to be here. You watch.”
They walked into the hospital reception. A Christmas tree in the waiting area blinked with colored lights. It was surrounded by brightly wrapped presents. Jake smiled. He’d helped launch the hospital’s toy-donation campaign a few weeks earlier and it was obviously going well.
“Hi, Jake,” the receptionist greeted him with a wave. “What are you doing here?”
“Just bringing a friend to visit.”
“Which ward are you after?” she asked.
“Children’s.”
“You know the way,” the receptionist said, returning to her work without any idea she was a meter from one of Australia’s most famous exports.
Giselle walked next to him down the hall. A number of doctors, nurses and town folk greeted Jake. A few sent Giselle a friendly nod, but no one identified her.
“See?” she said.
“Incredible.”
“Jake.” The voice drew his attention from Giselle. Jean, the hospital’s general manager stood waiting at the entrance to the children’s wing.
As they walked closer, Jean’s face lit up. “Ms. Harrington, I can’t tell you how grateful I am to you for coming.” Jean vigorously shook Giselle’s hand. “And thank you for your generous donation.”
“My pleasure,” Giselle said.
“This is just the lift we need,” Jean said, leading the way into the children’s ward. “We lost a long-term child a few days ago, so we all need cheering up.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“We’ve gathered most of the children in the lounge.”
“Wonderful.”
Giselle whipped off her hat and glasses and shook out her gorgeous long blond hair. The sensual force of this simple action hit Jake like a storm. His pulse picked up.
She drew herself up straight. With every action, each flick of her hair, movement of her lips, Jake suffered. He desperately wanted to touch her, hold her, never let her go.
Turning, she threw him a heart-crushing smile. “Show time.”
He followed her into the lounge room. Explosions of shock pulsed through the air, and squeals of delight pounded the room. Jake covered his ears. Giselle knelt down as kids aged five to fifteen crowded around her. She hugged and chatted and had her photo taken over and over and over.
The nurses began to set up a makeshift beauty salon and Jake made a couple of runs to the truck to gather all the gifts. He stood back, feeling useless. Giselle worked fast, but it quickly became obvious that she couldn’t get to all the kids.
He pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed.
“What’s up, bro?” his sister asked.
“You busy?”
“Nope. Slow afternoon,” Sasha said. “Want to do something? Go riding?”
“I could do with some help at the hospital.”
“What, have those books come in?” Their most recent fundraising effort had resulted in a couple of hundred dollars to equip the children’s ward with the latest children’s books.
He glanced over at Giselle painting lip gloss on a girl who looked about five years old. The child held an IV drip with one hand and a mirror in the other. She chatted away with a huge smile on her face.
“No,” he said. “Something a bit more special. Can you bring your beauty box? You know, makeup, wigs, hair stuff, that sort of thing.”
“Finally. I’ve been wanting to give you a makeover for ten years.”
“Ha. Ha. Just get down here.”
“Intriguing. You know I love a surprise. I’ll be there in ten.”
He ended the call.
“Jake,” Giselle called. “Some help.”
He took a step back. “What can I do? I’m no good with this sort of thing.”
Giselle’s joyous laugh touched a chord in his soul.
She pointed to the boxes. “Could you make sure everyone gets a T-shirt and a Santa hat?”
Great. A job. Being helpful always made him happy. “Now that I can do.”
A few minutes later, Jake noticed his sister standing at the door, staring, eyes wide. She looked so funny with that shocked expression on her face. He walked over.
“It’s Giselle,” Sasha breathed.
“Yeah. I know.”
Sasha dragged her eyes away from Giselle, who was plaiting a young girl’s hair with bright-pink ribbons. “How are you?” she asked, pinning him with her “tell me everything” look.
“Fine,” he said, pretending not to know what Sasha was getting at.
“Fine.” She jammed her hands on her hips. “The girl who broke your heart is sitting a few feet away. The girl who ruined you for any other woman turns up after twelve years and all you can say is fine.”
“You always overdramatize things, Sasha.”
“Rubbish,” she said, grabbing his arm. “It’s me, remember? You can’t pretend with me.”
“So what do you want me to do?” Jake pulled Sasha away from the crowd. “Giselle isn’t just the girl down the road anymore. She’s Giselle bloody Harrington. Adored by millions. A superstar.”
“And yet, here she is. In Turtle Beach. Why do you think that is?”
“To settle her mother’s estate.”
Sasha cocked her head. “She could have had,” she lifted her fingers and made the inverted commas signal, “her people do that.”
“She’s here to meet a developer.”
“Yeah right.” Sasha sent him a probing look.
“Try not to see things that aren’t there.”
“Well, as long as she isn’t back to finish you off. You know I still love her to death even though she left us, but if she hurts you again, she’ll have to answer to me.”
“Sasha. Is that you?” Giselle ran over and pulled Sasha into a hug. Sasha had always had a girl-crush on Giselle. When their mother had died, Giselle had “adopted” Sasha as her little sister. Jake had thought he couldn’t love Giselle more, but when Giselle had played Barbies, baked cakes and cookies and cuddled Sasha when she’d cried for her mother, he’d thought his heart would burst with love.
“Oh my God,” Giselle said. “You’re all grown up.”
“Hmmm,” Sasha answered.
“Be nice,” Jake mouthed to his sister.
“What are you doing here?” Giselle asked, putting her arm around Sasha’s shoulders.
“Jake rang me. Seems like you have a beauty crisis.”
“You can help?”
“Help? I own the Hair and Beauty Salon in town. Which do you want, hair or makeup?”
“If you can manage makeup, I think we might get to everyone.”
“Let’s do it,” Sasha said, grabbing Giselle’s hand and pulling her back into the crowded room. Sasha organized the space into an efficient beauty production line. She might be chaotic in other parts of her life, but Sasha was a whiz in the beauty department.
Half an hour later, all the kids had been made over and Jake had set up the music.
“Okay, everyone,” Giselle announced. “Who wants to be in the band? Can I have dancers over here? The singers over there? Parents you can join in, too. And of course, the audience is very important.” Giselle wheeled a small girl in a wheelchair to the center of the room and gave her a hairbrush. “Gretel is going to sing lead with me.” The girl grinned shyly up at Giselle with adoration in her eyes.
Jake glanced over at Gretel’s parents. Tears slid down her mother’s cheeks and even her father was dabbing his eyes.
“Thank you, Mr. Music.” She sent him a cute smile, her dark eyes dancing with joy. Jake’s hear
t tumbled over a beat. He couldn’t tear his gaze from her eyes.
“Whenever you’re ready Mr. Music,” Giselle said with a laugh.
He snapped out of his trance with a grin. “Whatever you say, Ms. Harrington.”
He hit the music and one of Giselle’s number-one tunes sounded through the room. The group went wild, singing and dancing. Mothers and fathers joined in. Nurses sang along. A room full of sick children transformed into a moment of magic.
A hand landed lightly on Jake’s arm.
“Hi, Jake.” Miranda, the journalist from the local paper, stood next to him. “You could’ve given me a heads-up.”
Jake looked from Miranda to Giselle and back to Miranda. She was lifting her camera and focusing for a shot. He pulled the camera down gently.
“Giselle is here incognito. She doesn’t want any publicity.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Miranda said in her usual “you don’t understand the world” tone. “Of course she does. Why do you think she’s here?”
“For the kids.”
“Yeah. Right. Like she gives a crap about anyone in this town. She caused all the distress when she upped and left. She lifted her camera again. He moved to block her shot.
“Sorry, Miranda. I can’t let you do that.”
“Jake, it’s my job. Just like her job—” she jabbed a finger in Giselle’s direction “—Is to crave publicity and attention.”
Jake narrowed his eyes. So even after all this time Miranda held a petty grudge against Giselle. She’d hated Giselle ever since she’d inadvertently stolen Miranda’s “king pin” status at high school. Before Giselle had turned up, Miranda had won every English prize in the region, but Giselle’s haunting stories and passionate poems had eclipsed anything Miranda had been capable of.
“And do you have the permission of all these parents to take photos of their children?” Jake asked, trying to stall her.
“I’ll get permission.”
Jean joined them. “Afternoon, Miranda.”
“Jean.” Miranda gave a curt nod to the general manager. “Would’ve appreciated a call about this. I only found out because of my niece’s Facebook feed.”
“Sorry, Miranda. Giselle insisted on no publicity.”
“It’s all over Facebook and Twitter. Every girl in here has posted a pic of herself and the Pop Princess.”
“I made a promise, Miranda,” Jean said.
“Come on. Think of the publicity for the town. And just in time for the Christmas Gala.”
“Not going to happen, Miranda,” Jake said.
Miranda pinched her lips together. “Why are you all protecting her?” Miranda turned and strode down the hall. “What on earth do we owe her?” she threw over her shoulder.
Jake turned his attention back to the show. Giselle glanced at her watch. At the end of the fifth song, she announced it was time to go. Groans and pleas rang through the room, but Giselle expertly extracted herself, signing autographs as she pulled away from the crowd.
“Thank you,” Jean said, leading them into a quiet corridor. “Thank you so much.”
“My pleasure.” Giselle glanced at her watch again. “Um, I’ve probably got time to see the palliative care kids before the media descends.”
“The local journo’s already been,” Jake said.
Giselle looked up and down the corridor.
“Don’t worry,” Jake said. “We persuaded her to leave.”
“Thanks. This is just about the kids, nothing else. No child should suffer. Suffer from unwanted media attention, hurt or pain.” Giselle said the words with such conviction. As though she’d had some childhood trauma. His jaw tightened. God! Had something happened to her when she’d gone to Sydney? He’d considered this before, but nothing significant stood out in his mind.
“She won’t have left,” Giselle said. “The media doesn’t give up until they have what they came for. I’ll have to come up with an escape plan.”
“You keep going,” Jake said. “Leave the escape plan to me.”
Jean opened a door to a private room. “Giselle, this is …” The door closed behind them. Alone, Jake leaned against the wall and stared up at the fluorescent light. Family responsibility had prevented Jake from continuing the search for Giselle. From trying to find her, to see her. When she’d toured Australia years later, he’d watched her show in Sydney. He’d been so proud, so devastated. He’d planned to try to see her backstage, but realized she was now truly out of his league.
Giselle Harrington belonged to a different world. Jake had returned home from Sydney the next day after the concert, resigned to the fact that she was gone forever. But in all that time when he’d been obsessed with how she’d hurt him, left him, deserted him, he’d never considered she’d left for any insidious reason. He would have known if something terrible had happened. Giselle would have told him. Wouldn’t she?
He pushed off the wall. What did it matter? Giselle would be gone in a few hours. It wasn’t as if she’d confide anything to him now.
He may not be Giselle’s best friend anymore, but at least he could help her leave without being hounded by the press.
Jake walked into the hospital foyer. A quick scan of the parking lot revealed Miranda lurking under a jacaranda tree. He blew out a breath. There would need to be some evasive action.
He strode back to the children’s ward. Giselle emerged from a private room with Jean.
“Thank you.” Jean fussed over Giselle. “You really lifted our spirits.”
Giselle sparkled with the aura of a global superstar, but Jake couldn’t think of her in those terms. Even with the designer clothes, the flash car and the adoration, to him she was still the skinny girl with the big voice from down the road.
“Honestly, Jean. Happy to help.”
“I don’t suppose you’ll be back anytime soon?” Jean asked.
“No. I’m sorry. But I’ll send you some tickets for the Australian leg of my tour. You could raffle them.”
“That’s so generous. Thanks again.”
Jake joined the women. “I’m afraid we haven’t lost Miranda.”
Giselle frowned. “Miranda Sorenson? The girl who didn’t like me at school?”
“The very same,” Jake said.
“Why do we need to lose her?”
“Lose who?” Sasha said, joining the group.
“Miranda,” said Jake.
Sasha patted Giselle on the shoulder. “Man, she hates you.”
Giselle held up her hands, palms out. “I couldn’t help that I could write a good poem and won a few competitions. I never understood why she would hate me so much for that.”
“Giselle, come on,” Sasha said in a tone that communicated she didn’t believe Giselle’s innocence. “That’s not why she hated you.”
“Really?”
“She hated you because Jake would follow you anywhere and didn’t have two words for her.”
Jake glared at his sister. If Jean hadn’t been there, Sasha would have suffered a good sibling dressing down.
“Anyway,” Giselle said, drawing out the word. “Surely she doesn’t hate me now.”
“Well, she did get drunk a few years ago in the pub and asked Jake out again in front of a whole crowd of friends. When he politely turned her down she did shout some pretty interesting things about you, Jake and not moving on.”
“Okay, Sasha. Enough,” Jake said. “Let’s focus on the problem.”
“But what is the problem?” Giselle asked.
“Miranda’s now the editor of the local paper and she’s waiting out the front,” Jake said.
“No matter where I go,” Giselle sighed. She sounded weary. Not “kids have jumped all over me” weary but “the weight of the world” weary. “Any way I can avoid her?”
“Leave it to me,” Sasha said, joining them.
Jake turned his gaze to his sister. “You have a plan?”
“The best plan ever.”
“This isn’t a game
, Sasha,” Jake said.
“Doesn’t mean we can’t have some fun.” Sasha grinned and put her arm around Giselle. “Come with me.”
Twenty minutes later, they returned. Giselle sported an overly shiny brunette wig covering her blond locks. She wore Sasha’s jeans and T-shirt. So much cuter than the smart clothes she’d worn earlier.
Jake cocked his head. “You think this will work?”
“Sure it will,” Sasha said. “Miranda’s waiting for a blond bombshell in designer wear not a dowdy brunette in old jeans.”
“Sasha!” Jake scolded.
Giselle laughed. “Just say what you think, Sasha.”
“You know I always do. Now, Jake, you go get your truck and drive away as if you’re done here, then loop around Bay Street and around the back.”
“I’ll walk out with you, Jake,” said Jean. “I’ll tell Miranda that Giselle’s already left if she asks.”
Jake walked down the corridor with Jean, leaving Sasha to take Giselle out the back.
“That Giselle is a wonderful girl,” Jean said. “She always has been.”
“But you haven’t seen her for twelve years,” Jake said.
“Maybe so, but she’s never stopped supporting the kids in this town.”
Really? He didn’t know anything about Giselle being involved in the town and he knew pretty much everything. The answer came in a rush.
“The donation,” he said.
“Donations,” Jean said, looking up quickly, covering her mouth with her hand. “Ah. Um. Please, Jake. I shouldn’t have said that.”
Jake stopped. “Giselle’s the anonymous donor?”
Jean’s face reddened. “I really can’t say. I know you’re on the board, but …”
“Giselle donated half a million to the hospital?” He shook his head. “So, she was the one who provided the endowment for the resident child physiologist? You said in the board meeting it was the same donor.”
“Jake, I can’t tell you. Those donations were made anonymously. I must respect their wishes for privacy.”
But her expression answered his question in the affirmative. Something shifted deep inside him. The whole town had judged Giselle. Even twelve years on, the story of Giselle’s disappearance was the fodder for gossip.
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