She saved me the trouble when she put down the wooden spoon she was holding and said, ‘I haven’t told you about Allen Lambert, Pidge, because there’s not a lot to tell. It’s not a big romance, nothing like that. What it is, actually, is a very nice friendship.’
I stared at her, said nothing.
Jessica began to chuckle. ‘I see you’re surprised I’m aware Cara talked to you about him … well, you know what she’s like. Gossipy. She came and confessed she’d been blabbing to you about Allen when I got back from the auction house an hour ago. I think she felt guilty for chattering behind my back. I told her to forget it – all families do that: gossip about each other, I mean.’
‘Well, I don’t!’ I exclaimed a little heatedly.
‘Please don’t be upset, Serena. I know you’re probably feeling hurt because I didn’t confide in you, but honestly there’s nothing to confide. If I was involved in a big romance, you’d be the first to know.’
‘Cara said I should talk to you, persuade you to go and have more medical tests, Jess. She thinks you could have inherited that rare form of osteoporosis from Mom. If you can imagine that.’
I saw sudden anger in Jessica’s dark eyes, and she exclaimed, ‘She’s too much! The cheek of it! Why did she come to you? We’ve discussed it at length, she and I, and I went for the additional X-rays the day after my fall. I gave you those results when you were in Venice.’
‘I know … I guess she still worries about you.’
Jessica gave me a steady look, but there was a hint of annoyance in her voice when she said, ‘I assure you I’m not sick. I’m very healthy, in fact.’
I said, ‘Oh look, don’t let her get your goat. You know she expresses opinions even when she doesn’t know anything about the subject she pontificates about.’
Jessica let out a long sigh, picked up the wooden spoon and stirred the bowl. ‘I do know she used to omit telling us things, years ago.’
‘But she’s never lied, to my knowledge. So why would she lie to me about you now?’ I said.
‘What lies?’
‘She says you’re constantly complaining about having tired legs and aching bones.’
My sister shook her head. I could tell from her expression she was exasperated. ‘She’s exaggerating. I admit I did complain about my aches and pains, but that was just after I’d fallen.’
‘Let’s move on. I guess she told you Harry’s bringing Geoff Barnes with him tomorrow, and that I’d said he could.’
‘It’s fine with me, as you knew it would be. Geoff’s part of Global Images, so he’s family.’
She took the bowl of vegetables over to the sink, filled the bowl with water and placed it on the countertop. Then she turned off the stew, and returned to the table. Removing her apron, she took hold of my hand. ‘Come on,’ she said, ‘let’s go and sit in the garden, and I’ll tell you all about Allen Lambert.’
‘All right,’ I said, following her. I couldn’t help wondering about the Englishman Jessica was involved with. Was he a cad, as Granny would have called him? One of those men who have a dangerous aura?
TWENTY-TWO
We went and sat in the pergola that Dad and Harry had built not far from the kitchen. Their idea was that we could have alfresco meals outside in the summer. The food was in close proximity, and that made life easier for everyone, cooks and helpers alike.
I sat down, and then lifted my eyes, looked up at the Alpes-Maritimes. The range of mountains that soared above the gardens was magnificent, and very beautiful, whether covered in greenery as they were now, or frosted with snow in winter.
When I was little, my father had told me that the mountains were the guardians of our house, and that we would be safe always, because we were protected by them forever. He had had so many tales, and I had listened attentively, believing every word.
As I believed Jessica. I’d never known her to tell me a lie in her life. She was my favourite sister. I loved Cara, but she had certain traits that irritated me, and I was aware she also irritated Jess at times, even though they were twins and extremely close, so very connected. Cara wasn’t a bad person, she was just complicated, and sometimes strangely remote, distant. It was as if she wasn’t part of us, part of the family, at times.
Jessica broke into my thoughts. ‘Are you worrying about Zac, Pidge?’
I glanced at her; she looked concerned. ‘No, I’m not. Why do you say that?’
‘You seem very thoughtful – pensive, actually.’
I shook my head. ‘I was thinking about Cara … she gets to me occasionally.’
‘I know. She does to me, too, and she did to Mom as well. But she’s fine. Deep down, she loves us, couldn’t bear to be without us. She cares as much as we do, and in a crunch she’d be there, defending us with all her might. She’d take a bullet for us.’
‘I know that, I really do. So go on, tell me about Allen Lambert. And don’t miss out a thing.’
She burst out laughing, in her usual cheerful, exuberant way, and leaned back in the wicker garden chair. ‘All right, here goes. I’ve known Allen for six years. He works for a PR firm in London, where he has a flat. But he also has a house in Nice. His mother died when he was a child and his father remarried. His stepmother was French, and so he spent a lot of time here in his childhood, and when he was grown up. After his parents died he decided to keep their house in Nice. He spends many weekends, and the summer, here. I met him socially first, and later he did some PR work for Stone’s.’
‘When did you start going out with him?’
‘We occasionally had dinner over the years, but we’ve grown closer these last few months, and we’re seeing more of each other. Still, it is just a friendship.’
‘I was startled when Cara told me about him,’ I told her.
‘I’m not having a love affair with him, Pidge, which is why I didn’t mention him when I was in New York. He’s just a friend.’
‘Cara doesn’t like—’ I stopped abruptly, could’ve bitten my tongue off. I didn’t want to be a tittle-tattle, or repeat what Cara had said to me.
Jessica was far too smart, knew I’d been about to confide.
She said, ‘I know Cara doesn’t like Allen. I think that’s probably because he’s rather reserved, not a man given to making a fuss. She has no clue what he’s actually like, Serena, because she hasn’t spent any real time with him. Her judgement’s flawed because she doesn’t know him.’
‘And what is he like?’ I asked.
‘He’s a lovely person – attractive, but a bit reserved, as I’ve just said. Nonetheless he has a great sense of humour, and he’s cultured, well-educated, and just a little complex.’
‘In what way?’ I asked, my rampant curiosity getting the better of me.
‘I suppose I should have said that his life’s been complex in a certain way. His wife was killed in Africa.’
‘Cara mentioned that. What happened to her? And what was she doing in Africa?’
‘Felicity ran a not-for-profit organization. Some sort of charity created to provide aid to deprived African children. She was on a trip with members of her team, and they died because they got trapped between two factions who were fighting each other in a bloody war. It was eight years ago.’
‘Oh my God, Jess, how awful! Allen wasn’t in Africa with her, I guess?’
‘No, he wasn’t, he was working in London. He kissed her goodbye at Heathrow Airport and never saw her again.’
‘Where did she die?’
‘In Sudan.’
‘So are you saying his life’s been complex because he’s not recovered from his wife’s death?’ I asked, staring at my sister, frowning. Eight years seemed a long time to grieve.
‘Not exactly. He’s over it now. But I do think her death does sometimes come back to haunt him, and he feels guilty, blames himself for letting her go to such a dangerous place. And in the middle of a violent civil war.’
I nodded. ‘Does he have children?’
??
?No, they didn’t have kids, and believe me, he’s very thankful for that, considering what happened to Felicity.’
‘I can well understand that.’ I let out a heavy sigh. ‘What terrible things happen in life. You just never know what dreadful tragedies strike at people, what people sometimes have to bear.’
‘No, you don’t, and when we first met he hardly ever mentioned it. But he did tell me all about it eventually, and I’m glad he did. I understand him much better now.’ Jessica glanced at me and smiled. ‘You’ll like Allen, Pidge.’
‘Am I going to meet him?’
‘Of course. I invited him to lunch on Easter Sunday, and he can’t wait to meet you.’ Before I could answer Jess started to laugh, changing our slightly sombre mood. ‘You’ll never guess what he calls Mom.’
‘Did he know her then?’
‘Not well. He met her around the time he met me, and he refers to her as Grace Monroe.’
I stared at her, did not answer for a split second, and then I too began to laugh. ‘Because Mom was a cross between Grace Kelly and Marilyn Monroe? That’s what you mean, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, it is. Of course, he’s right on target. Dad always said that about her himself: ladylike but loaded with sex appeal.’
‘I like the sound of Allen Lambert. But where do you two stand exactly?’ I pushed, wanting to get to the heart of the situation.
‘I’m not sure about his feelings. I know he likes me a lot, and is attracted to me, and we do enjoy being together. I have a feeling he’s becoming a little emotionally attached, certainly more involved with me and on a new level.’
‘And what about you?’ I probed.
She cocked her head on one side, and a playful smile flickered on her mouth before she said, ‘I think I’m kind of falling for him, Pidge.’
I grinned at her. ‘I’m so glad I’m here. I’m going to push the two of you into each other’s arms and over the edge.’
‘The edge of what?’ she asked, looking slightly puzzled.
‘The edge of the pit of love. Down you’ll go, and you’ll both be ecstatic, I promise you.’
TWENTY-THREE
Jessica returned to the kitchen to finish preparing the boeuf bourguignon, and I went upstairs to look for Zac. I found him in my bedroom, sitting on the sofa, staring at the television screen.
His face was pale, and he had a stricken look in his eyes. As I closed the door and walked towards the sofa, he glanced across at me, picked up the zapper and clicked off the TV.
‘You’re upset, aren’t you?’ I said in an even voice. ‘You’ve been watching news from Libya, and the rest of the Middle East.’
‘I have, yes,’ he agreed. ‘But I’m not so much upset as dismayed. Uprisings in so many countries; fighting in the streets; angry, distressed civilians frantically fighting trained professional soldiers, which can only end up badly … all this rotten killing …’ His voice trailed off, and he sighed, exasperated and troubled, no question about that.
I sat down next to him on the sofa, and he took hold of my hand. ‘I just can’t stomach it any more, Serena. The whole world has gone mad. It’s become a battlefield … there’s violence and bloodshed everywhere you look.’ He stopped abruptly, leaned back, rested his head against the sofa and fell silent.
I thought he looked tired – drained even, and very sad. The short time he had been sitting in front of the television, digesting the latest news, had done him in, I decided.
Zac had been so much better this morning and over lunch, almost his old self again. Then it struck me that he was not upset because he wasn’t over there covering the events, but because he was filled with sorrow that this turmoil was happening at all.
Turning to him, wanting to express my understanding of his grief, I saw that his light green eyes were filled with tears. He started to say something, but couldn’t quite get the words out. His mouth began to tremble, and he brought his hands to his face, started to cry; I saw the tears leaking through his fingers.
‘Oh Zac, how can I help you?’ I murmured gently, putting my arm around his shoulders, moving up closer to him, longing to make him feel better. He began to sob and held onto me tightly, as if he were drowning. And in a way he was … drowning in pain and heartache.
At that precise moment something shifted in me. I knew without a shadow of a doubt that I loved him completely. He was the love of my life.
There was no way for me to turn away from this knowledge, or deny it any longer. I loved Zachary North with every fibre of my being. I wanted to be with him always. To spend the rest of my life with him. No matter what happened, whatever he chose to do, we must be together, to love and cherish each other for as long as we lived.
I knew now that I had been in denial for the past year. Jessica had been right; she had said earlier that I was filled with anger about Zac’s behaviour a year ago, when we had broken up. Now that anger had mysteriously dissipated, was entirely gone. Just like that, in a flash. What I felt was total love for him. I understood him, and his predicament – disillusionment and a sense of loss. I wanted to make him whole again, to restore him to himself, to help him build a future.
Eventually, the sobs quietened, finally subsided, and he wiped his face with his fingertips, shook his head. ‘Sorry,’ he mumbled. ‘So sorry, Serena.’
‘It’s all right. I understand, I really do.’
‘That’s why I wanted to be with you, and no one else. I need you. I trust you absolutely, and I feel safe with you, because … well, because I know you’re trustworthy, loyal, dependable, an honourable person. You have such integrity, Serena, like no one I’ve ever known. And I love you for everything you are.’
I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. I was touched by his words, knowing how sincere he was being. After a moment, I said, ‘Dad once told me that the impact of war on the human psyche is overwhelming. And you have been overwhelmed in Afghanistan. Fortunately, you knew you had to get out before it was too late. It’s devastated you, leaving the front, but you did the right thing.’
He stared at me intently for a long moment. ‘Tommy was right, and so are you. And yes, it was time …’ He paused, took a deep breath. ‘I want to tell you about the flashback I had when I smashed the television set in Venice. Can I?’
‘Yes, tell me. I’ve been wanting to know. If you unburden yourself it will help you, Zac, I’m certain of that.’
‘When I woke up that night, in the bolthole in Venice, I thought I was back in Helmand Province, where I’d been embedded for some weeks with a platoon of Marines, out on patrol near a remote village,’ he explained. ‘We were on the edge of the village, in an old building. A lot of heavily armed insurgents were out there, snipers mounting round-the-clock attacks on us. Very heavy attacks. I knew two young Marines, one from Brooklyn, the other from Connecticut – Mitch Johnson and Joe Marshall …’
Zac’s voice choked up and his mouth began to tremble. But he swiftly managed to regain his control, continuing slowly, ‘Mitch and Joe went out on a recce. The lieutenant in charge needed more information, so a reconnaissance it was.’ Zac paused, blew out air, ran his hands over his face nervously.
‘You don’t have to go on, if it’s too painful,’ I murmured softly.
‘It’s okay. I’m okay,’ he said, and after a short while he continued steadily. ‘I was with the lieutenant, Jack Bentley, from Los Angeles. Our eyes were riveted on Mitch and Joe as they moved down that dangerous road towards the village. They went very slowly, with enormous caution. A corporal and a bunch of Marines standing near us had their rifles poised ready for action and covering Joe and Mitch, watching their backs. Suddenly an improvised explosive device went off, and then another. Those roadside bombs were everywhere on that road, and lethal. Mitch and Joe were upright one moment, down on their backs the next.’
Zac stopped, swallowed hard. ‘The lieutenant acted at once, instantly radioed for a Medevac. We were very lucky: one of the Black Hawk choppers was already close, and it came in quick
ly.’
‘Was the chopper able to land safely?’ I asked, knowing how frightening and tricky the situation must have been – not to mention dangerous for the pilot and medics on the chopper.
‘It was tough going,’ Zac replied. ‘As you know, the Medevac chopper is not armed, but is always accompanied by another aircraft that is. As usual, the insurgents were shooting at both. Somehow, the pilot of the Medevac heli managed to get it down into the Landing Zone safely. Without any incidents. The lieutenant and some of the Marines ran forward to help move Mitch and Joe, and the medics got them into the helicopter and out safely, heading for a nearby medical facility.’
Zac blinked, coughed behind his hand, and I saw the tears glittering in his green eyes once more. After clearing his throat a few times, he said quietly, ‘The lieutenant told me he didn’t know if they were going to make it … Joe had lost a leg and had a spinal injury, and Mitch had a gaping hole in his chest—’ Abruptly, Zac broke off, jumped up and went into my bathroom, closing the door behind him.
I was certain he had gone there to weep again, seeking his privacy, needing to be alone. And I understood all the reasons why. I had been on the front line for years. I myself had been where he was emotionally at this moment. I knew how raw and distressed he must be, remembering everything, reliving what he had witnessed that violent morning in Afghanistan … thinking of the horrific injuries those two young Marines had suffered.
That was why I truly was the only person he could talk to, because I understood what he had been through. His parents and his siblings loved him, and no doubt would want to help, but they had not had any battlefield experiences; they did not know what combat was really like. I was the veteran here, and I could empathize with him, comfort him and hopefully pull him through.
As he had been recounting what had happened, I had visualized everything in my mind’s eye. The Black Hawk chopper coming in, accompanied by an armed aircraft escort for protection. I knew only too well that the insurgents never paid any attention to the Red Cross emblem painted on the underbelly of the Medevac chopper, even though under international law these helicopters were supposed to be off-limits to enemy fire. But the Red Cross meant nothing to them, even though Medevacs might transport injured insurgents, or civilian Afghan adults and children hurt by an IED or caught in crossfire, as well as troops. All were taken to medical facilities to be looked after.