Fantasy Woman

by Annabel Murray

  En route to search for her young cousin, Gina heard Marcha using the library telephone.

  'OK.' Her voice sounded angry, sulky. 'So the moment's finally come. Yes, today! I've only got an hour.' Obviously she was making use of her access to the telephone to call friends, as well as the necessary taxi. It seemed she had been expecting her cards sooner or later, and yet, only a few weeks ago, Marcha had seemed so positive she would be marrying Tod. At any rate it had seemed certain that she would retain her position as 'maitresse en titre'.'

  'Hallo, Rusty darling!' She had tracked them down to the breakfast room, where morning coffee was being served. There was a host of other people milling about, for which Gina was relieved. There would be no opportunity for Tod to approach her, to give the conversation a personal turn; and, by the time the last of the film crew had filtered away, she would have done likewise, for she had made her plans, knew how she was going to escape.

  'Gina! Gosh, am I glad to see you. I've got so much to tell you, you wouldn't believe.' The words fairly cascaded out of the excited boy and Gina tried to look suitably surprised as he related the conversation, most of which she'd already overheard. 'And Tod says I'm to live here ... actually live here, as if it was my real home, and only go to the hospital for my treatment. He's a great guy, Gina!' Rusty gazed with admiring eyes at Tod as he stood talking to one of his crew.

  As if she didn't know that, Gina thought miserably. In her eyes he was damned near perfect, except for one thing, his reluctance to marry again. Yet, in fairness, she couldn't blame him for an aversion she'd once held herself.

  'He's been to visit me almost every day since that first time. We've been making all kinds of plans, you can't imagine. And he says you'll be staying here, too, Gina. Is that right?'

  'No,' she said curtly, then, at the boy's surprised look, softened her tone, 'I'm afraid that's impossible. You know how busy I am ... and the flat's my home.'

  Rusty's freckled face was downcast, but not for long.

  'Oh, well,' he said cheerfully, 'I guess he must have got it wrong. But I dare say you'll still come and visit me?'

  'Oh ... I...' But before she could think of a suitably non-committal reply which would satisfy the boy, there was a general interruption.

  Sally rushed into the room, face and figure both expressive of agitation.

  'Oh, Mr Fallon! Thank goodness I've found you all together. Now you'll all be able to look for her.'

  'Look for whom?' Tod asked sharply. 'You don't mean ...'

  'Yes! Melanie! I can't find her anywhere.'

  'When did you last see her?'

  'About half an hour ago. We discovered her kitten was missing. She was so upset. I ... I told her to stay in her room while I looked for him. But this is such a big house and he's such a tiny thing. I didn't realise I'd been gone so long and .. . and when I got back to the nursery, Melanie wasn't there.'

  'Did it never occur to you that she's probably hunting for the damned thing herself? I knew the dratted animal would cause trouble of some sort.' An indignant Gina received the full force of his irritated scowl. 'We'll soon find her, Sally. Don't worry. Some of us will search the house and others the garden.'

  This was her chance, Gina thought. Every inclination told her she, too, ought to join in the search for Melanie but, as Tod had said, it shouldn't prove a long one and for once she was going to put herself first.

  'I'll try the garden,' she murmured and, in the general hubbub of noise and movement, she slipped out of the house.

  Moving slowly at first, pretending to look about her, she finally reached the trees, then began to ran, only emerging from cover when she reached the edge of the airstrip. Sliding back the door, she entered the hangar. Would the Cessna have enough fuel for her to reach a suitable place to land, far enough from Tod's clutches? She scrambled into the cockpit, flicked switches and anxiously inspected dials. She drew a breath of relief. The tanks were full.

  Just to think, flying had once been a source of terror to her and now it was to prove a means of salvation. She taxied out on to the runway and was soon airborne. She had no idea where she was headed. Her main preoccupation had been to take off before Tod got wind of her plan and prevented it.

  Her flight path took her over the house and the main gate and she was just heaving a wistful little sigh of nostalgia, when something strange arrested her attention. The large iron gates which, when shut, completed the circuitry of electronic warning devices, were standing open, unattended.

  Forgetting her former urgency, Gina circled. Her curiosity was rewarded as two figures emerged from the gatehouse, a woman and a child .. . Marcha and Melanie!

  Gina's first thought was that Marcha had magnanimously postponed her departure, put aside her own feelings to help search for the missing child. But this conjecture didn't stand up to inspection. Marcha didn't like children; she wasn't the sort to forgive and forget a slight, much less a direct attack upon herself and the discovery of her past action. And Tod had made it pretty clear what he thought of her perfidy towards Rusty. No, Marcha might be said to have a score to settle.

  She'd had nearly an hour in which to carry out her revenge and fate seemed to have played into her hands with the missing kitten. Or ... Gina didn't believe in coincidence . .. had Marcha contrived that disappearance?

  Living and working here, the older girl would obviously know about the gatehouse control system. She would know, as Gina did, that Andy and Greg were bound to join in searching house and immediate grounds. Nothing easier than for her to reach the control point unobserved. But how had she persuaded Melanie to accompany her, when their dislike was mutual? Of course! Simple! She had only to pretend she'd seen the kitten wandering down the drive!

  But, puzzled Gina as she circled again, how did Marcha intend to proceed from here? It would be pointless to just walk out. Once the break in security was discovered, it would be no time at all before Marcha was overtaken, particularly as she would be hampered by the slower speed of the child. The taxi! Marcha's telephone call!

  Marcha was standing by the gates, obviously waiting, one hand restraining Melanie, who appeared to be struggling. Then two things happened simultaneously. A large limousine raced up the road, halting in the gateway long enough to bundle woman and child into the interior. Then it proceeded onwards, into the grounds of Mallions! That was no taxi!

  The second occurrence gave Gina the clue to this apparently strange proceeding. To her right, and slightly above her, appeared a helicopter. There was every indication that it was descending towards the airstrip, from which she herself had taken off only minutes before.

  Gina's swift thought processes had made her the successful businesswoman she was. Within an instant of recognising the intruder's intentions, surmising that this was another attempt by the Mantalinis, aided and abetted by Marcha, she was heading the Cessna back towards base, faster than the helicopter could travel.

  The black limousine had reached the airstrip and was stationary, its occupants waiting for the helicopter to land. No use Gina setting down. She hardly imagined herself to be a match for the men in it. It was as the helicopter neared the ground that she realised what she must do. She must stop anyone leaving the car, she must undertake the most dangerous stunt of her career to date, low-level flying. But she didn't think twice about it.

  Down she plummeted, then she began to fly backwards and forwards over the car, dipping first one wing then another, keeping between car and helicopter. She wasn't unduly surprised to hear the crack of bullets, to learn that the would-be kidnappers were armed. A bullet hit and ricocheted off the bodywork of the Cessna and she was thankful it hadn't struck the cockpit window. After several runs, she was beginning to wonder how much longer she could continue before a bullet found its target ... her.

  But help was at hand. Two or three cars were now streaming towards the airstrip. Tod's and those she recognised as belonging to Greg and Andy. The breach in their defences had been discovered. She made one more overh
ead pass and then, the pilot obviously opting for discretion rather than valour, the helicopter took off. Without its support, the occupants of the car seemed to decide it was futile to continue and, as Gina circled again, gaining height, she was relieved to see Marcha and Melanie pushed from the car, which then took off at great speed.

  Greg and Andy drove in pursuit, but Tod was out of his car, running to where his daughter was just scrambling up from the grass. Gina waited only long enough to see that the child was safe, then she turned the aircraft away, not seeing Tod's frantic signals, flying blind for a moment or two as tears stung her eyes, tears at the memory of Tod with Melanie in his arms. Did he even realise who had played such a large part in his daughter's rescue? Did he care?

  'Well Miss ... Mrs? ... Ah, Miss Darcy, I don't know if this is good news or bad.'

  Gina sat on the edge of her seat, hands tightly clasped. Her throat worked convulsively as she awaited the verdict.

  'It's quite conclusive. You are pregnant! Oh dear! Oh dear, dear!' The doctor's homely features contorted into lines of distress as Gina burst into tears. She rounded her desk, proffering a box of tissues, a glass of water, kindly platitudes.

  'H-how is it possible?' Gina gulped after a while, after she had told the other woman of her utter delight, that her tears were those of happiness. 'Th-they told me I'd never get pregnant again, never.'

  Doctors had been wrong before, this sympathetic one told her. Sometimes things changed, righted themselves. There were so many imponderables in the human physiology. 'But I don't think we need trouble ourselves with all that, do you? The next obvious step is to provide for your welfare and the baby's. Is yours a professional name, my dear? Are you married?'

  'No, I'm not married and the father isn't going to know anything about it. This baby is going to be mine ... just mine.'

  If Tod ever found out, he would surely claim it, particularly if it turned out to be a boy.

  It was just six weeks since Gina had flown away from Mallions and had been fortunate enough to secure permission to land on another private strip. She'd been uncertain at first whether it was safe to return to her flat, or whether she should move out, covering her tracks. But with Tod's resources it was unlikely she could evade him forever, so she might as well save herself the trouble. In the event, he had made no attempt to contact her and gradually she relaxed. He wasn't going to follow up his seduction of her. She ought to feel relief, and in one sense she did, but it was mingled with pique that his attraction towards her should have been so transitory, his pursuit of her so easily abandoned. But worse than the pique was the ache in her heart, in her body. How long did it take for such pains to ease?

  Two weeks ago, certain symptoms which, taken in conjunction with other facts, had added up to a suspicion, an unlikely circumstance, which at first she had discarded as being totally impossible. But the signs had persisted and she had decided to consult a gynaecologist.

  She hadn't worked since she'd returned to London. There had been no point in contacting TLM Enterprises, since Tod held sway there. But now, though she was by no means impoverished, she knew she must think of her baby's future. The GD Agency was still running profitably and, rather than just sit back and receive the proceeds, Gina decided she would return there, take up the reins once more herself. With a brief break for her child to be born, she would be fully occupied, with no time to brood about Tod Fallon, to wonder whom he had found to fill Marcha's place, the place he had invited her, Gina, to take.

  'Hallo? Gina Darcy speaking!'

  She had heard the telephone's insistent ring as she'd stepped out of the lift and inserted her key in the front door of the flat.

  'Oh, Miss Darcy, thank goodness!' It was her secretary. 'Just after you left the office, we had a client call in. He said he had a most urgent request to make and he insisted he would only speak to you.'

  Gina sighed wearily. It had been a long day and she was tired and hungry. She seemed to have less stamina these days.

  'Did you get his number? I'll ring him.'

  There was a slight hesitation at the other end, as if the girl expected a reprimand for what she was about to say.

  'He ... he wouldn't give me a telephone number. He said he wanted to speak to you, face to face.'

  'You didn't give him my address?' Gina snapped out the question. Her staff had strict instructions, but this girl was new.

  'He ... he said he knew where you lived, that he'd call round. I said I'd telephone you, warn you to expect him, but he said I wasn't to. He ... he was quite fierce. I was worried. Miss Darcy, do you want me to call the police? ... Miss Darcy? ... Miss Darcy?'

  'Yes? Oh, sorry! No, Babs, I don't think that will be necessary. But you did right to warn me. Thanks.'

  What had begun as an irritating interruption to her free time had, while the secretary spoke, assumed a more menacing aspect. It was Tod. It had to be. Only he and Jimmy Riley knew her home address and Jimmy wasn't aware that she was back in London.

  Thanks to her secretary she had a few precious moments in which to decide her course of action. She could pretend to be out or she could make it an actuality: leave her flat and spend the evening elsewhere. But why should she run away, be driven out of her own home? And any evasive action she took would only give her a temporary reprieve.

  Tod, as she had cause to remember, could be very persistent. Better to get the encounter over, make it quite clear that she never wanted to see him again. It wasn't true of course. Underlying her determination to outface him was a nagging curiosity to know the purpose of his visit and, even stronger, an insidious longing to see him.

  The doorbell rang and her heart skipped a beat. He was here and she hadn't even had time to do anything about her appearance. She was still wearing the smart, but rather severe grey dress she affected for office work. Her make-up was probably non-existent and her hair! She groaned. She had meant to wash it tonight.

  What did any of that matter? she asked herself sternly, as she went to answer the bell's now more insistent summons. But she couldn't resist a swift assessment of herself in the hall's full length mirror. Anxiously, she ran her hands over her hips, the slight curve of her belly. She didn't think her condition showed yet.

  The ringing had ceased and now her caller was raining blows on the front door.

  'Gina! Open up! I know you're in there, damn you!'

  She flung the door open, surprising him with his fists still raised.

  'For heaven's sake. Do you want all the neighbours to hear?'

  'In this place?' he scoffed, inserting himself into the hallway so adroitly she couldn't have prevented him from doing so even if that had been her intention. 'I bet it's so well soundproofed you could commit murder without being overheard.'

  She turned around, leaving him to shut the door, and preceded him into the living area. It was taking every ounce of her determination to appear cool and poised when, inwardly, she was a mass of nervous speculation. She seated herself on a chair so that, if he wanted to sit down, he would be forced to place himself some distance from her. The only trouble was he showed no inclination to settle anywhere, roaming to and fro restlessly.

  Gina was determined she wouldn't be the first to open the subject of his visit. She sat quietly, hands folded, eyes steady, giving a deceptive impression of cold disinterest.

  Hell's bells! Tod thought, shooting a glance at her from beneath lowering brows. Why did she have to make it so difficult for him to begin? Why didn't she say something, ask why he was here, even get mad at him, so that he had an excuse to take hold of her, an action which had obsessed him mentally and physically for some considerable time? She was even lovelier than he remembered. Despite her obvious end-of-day fatigue, there was some indefinable luminous quality about her, an added serenity which he longed to disturb.

  'Aren't you going to ask me why I'm here?' He shot the question at her suddenly, abruptly, when the silence had become too strained to endure.

  'No, since I've no doub
t you'll enlighten me eventually.' Her tone was maddeningly remote and Tod took a grip of himself. He must match her coolness. With this intention, he threw himself down in the sunken lounging area and looked up at her, his view a distorted one, beginning with her primly folded legs, long and shapely in sheer nylon. He swallowed, averted his eyes.

  'I want to thank you for what you did, for your part in rescuing Melanie.'

  'A letter would have done,' she told him quietly.

  Confound it. He couldn't sit down here, at a disadvantage. He got up and came to stand over her.

  'A letter would not have done! You took a considerable risk, flying so low. The least I could do was to thank you personally.'

  'It took you long enough,' she observed, with no apparent signs of rancour. Didn't she mind that he hadn't come to her sooner? If she didn't then his cause was lost before he'd begun. Well, he wasn't going to grovel. He'd come the first moment he'd been able to.

  'The men who tried to kidnap Melanie were apprehended. There were proceedings taken against them ... and Marcha. Then I flew out to Italy, to see my father-in-law.'

  He had Gina's interest now, at least. She was leaning slightly forward in her chair, even though she didn't speak.

  'Mantalini was behind the attempt. Marcha did spend that holiday of hers in Italy ... at La Spezia. Debbie and Steph were right; they did see her there.'

  'But why?' Gina could keep silent no longer. 'Why should Marcha co-operate with him? How could she plot against you when she expected to marry you? It must have been planned before . .. before. ..'

  'Before you came to Mallions and ousted her in my affections? Yes.'

  'Then...'

  'Marcha didn't intend her part in the kidnap to be known. That was part of her bargain with Mantalini. She didn't like children, didn't want to be bothered with mine. For some reason she believed she'd succeeded where others had failed, that she'd get me to marry her. With Melanie safely out of the way, she wouldn't have had to share my attention.'