Princess's Secret Baby

by Carol Marinelli

  ‘But you’re getting better.’

  They were getting better.

  With each passing day they drew closer, and at night it was getting harder to hold back her heart. To not give in to the love she had for him. To not plead with him for seven decades, rather than seven years.

  There were still tears in her sleep, and one Saturday morning when she was now eighteen weeks pregnant, finally he asked her about them.

  ‘What do you dream of?’ James asked as she lay there in his arms.

  Leila had never told anyone, but here, with his arms around her, it did not feel nosey or invasive.

  ‘There are different dreams, though they all feel the same,’ Leila said. ‘I just dreamt that I was at a picnic. I could see my parents laughing. I am a little girl about seven or eight, and my brother and sister are there. We are all laughing and enjoying the conversation and then I realise they cannot hear what I am saying. That they are talking amongst themselves as if I am not there. I start to shout, and they just carry on talking and laughing. I knock over a glass and they do not turn their heads...I start screaming and crying...’

  She was silent for a moment and James lay there thinking.

  ‘That’s when you come in,’ Leila said, because it was when she sobbed that he stepped into her dream and held her.

  She wasn’t even sure if it was a dream or a memory. Leila thought back to times looking out of her window, watching her mother and Jasmine walking in the grounds side by side.

  ‘Hey, Leila,’ James said. ‘Don’t wait so long.’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘When you’re dreaming and you knock the glass over, or you realise they can’t hear you, just roll over in the bed to me.’

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ‘MANU!’ JAMES HAD WAITED till Leila had left for work to make the call.

  ‘I was wondering if you could come to meet with me here in New York. I want some help to deal with Leila’s parents.’

  ‘You certainly need it.’

  ‘Which is why I want you to get on a plane as soon as possible.’ James looked out to the view below as he spoke. He hated that Leila cried each night. Yes, he knew she had been unhappy enough to run away but that he might have caused an irretrievable breakdown between Leila and her family, so much so that they might want nothing to do with the baby, appalled him.

  Dream interpretation wasn’t his particular forte; in fact, he didn’t even pay attention to his own. It was clear though, James had decided, that Leila was worried that her family was carrying on completely fine without her and that they might want nothing to do with their baby.

  He wanted to do his best to put things right.

  ‘I’ve been trying to learn Arabic so that I can hopefully apologise in person to her father.’

  ‘It is more than the language you need to learn, James.’

  ‘I get that.’ He did not need a lecture from Manu and was just about to tell her so when the door opened and there was Leila.

  ‘I’ll call you back,’ James said.

  ‘No need,’ Manu said. ‘I’ll arrange my flight. I can be there tomorrow for two days, but I am not guaranteeing I will work with you. For now I’ll just agree to meet and discuss the situation. I’ll text you with the times.’

  ‘Did I disturb you?’ Leila asked.

  ‘Of course not,’ James clipped. ‘I was just moving some stocks...’

  She knew that he was lying—Leila had heard a woman’s voice on the other end of the phone.

  She had sensitive ears too!

  ‘How come you’re not at work?’ James asked.

  ‘Their evening player has asked to swap and so I am working tonight instead,’ Leila answered. ‘I have to be back at six.’

  ‘I don’t want you...’ James halted himself. Who was he to tell her that she couldn’t work when she so clearly loved it? Who was he to rein her in when she was just starting to find herself?

  And, James questioned, who was he to force her to marry him?

  He just wanted her to want to now.

  ‘Whatever you feel like doing,’ James said.

  ‘Anyway, clearly we need to have some time alone,’ Leila said. ‘To make our private phone calls and things.’

  James heard the little dig and he gave a wry smile as Leila huffed off to the bathroom.

  She was the most adorable creature of habit—as soon as she came home, she would remove her make-up and he followed her in, watching as she took out a make-up–remover wipe. Leila started taking off her mascara but he could see the angry strokes of her hands.

  She was jealous, James thought, but it made him smile for she had no reason to be.

  ‘Leila.’ He came behind her and tried to catch her eye in the mirror but she was deliberately ignoring him.

  ‘Leila...’ James slid a hand around her waist but she shrugged him off and so he sat on the marble vanity beside where she stood angrily taking off her make-up.

  ‘Just because I’m on the phone to a woman it doesn’t mean that I’m seeing someone else. You are the most insecure person I have ever met.’

  ‘I’m not insecure, James,’ Leila corrected. ‘I’m very secure with myself.’

  ‘You could try trusting me.’

  Leila breathed out. Yes, she could try trusting; it just felt like a scary place to be. She wanted to trust him; she wanted to believe that he was here for more than their baby, that somehow a marriage between them could work.

  She wanted to tell him that she loved him.

  He handed her another make-up wipe and she took it.

  ‘I’m your personal make-up remover assistant,’ James said, and watched her lips do their best not to smile.

  She liked him in the bathroom with her, how he even made taking off her make-up stupid fun.

  He picked up her moisturiser and squeezed some onto his fingers.

  Sexy fun, Leila amended, remembering those fingers removing her lipstick that night, and so she rather pointedly took the bottle from him and put on her own moisturiser.

  Not fazed, happy to sit, James’s eyes alit on the pills in her bag.

  ‘Fat lot of good they did,’ James said, but not unkindly, and that was enough to bring that reluctant smile to her lips.

  Idly he picked them up as Leila finished off her face.

  ‘Leila...’ James asked. ‘Where did you get these pills?’

  Leila hesitated, for even in death she tried to protect Jasmine’s reputation. ‘From a doctor.’

  ‘Okay,’ James said, ‘let’s rephrase that. When did you get these pills?’

  ‘I can’t remember.’

  ‘They expired years ago.’ Good God, James thought as he read the date on them again—they had actually expired more than a decade ago!

  ‘Expired?’

  He handed her the packet and pointed to the date and he saw her frown. ‘Medicines expire,’ James said, ‘in the same way that food does. Don’t you look at the top of your yoghurt...’ And he stopped then because what would Leila know about expiry dates and such like. ‘They go off. These pills wouldn’t work now.’

  She felt stupid, embarrassed; she felt naive and very sure that he would be cross with her.

  ‘I didn’t know,’ Leila whimpered in panic. She was instantly back to the time in her bathroom with her chopped hair on the floor beside her and she was ashamed. ‘I was wrong...’

  ‘It’s okay,’ James said. He got that she simply didn’t know. What he didn’t get was that her eyes were filling with tears and that Leila, who only cried at night, who rarely revealed herself to him, was starting to break down. ‘Leila, it’s fine,’ James said. ‘I’m not cross. I get that it was a mistake...’ He gave her a smile and regrettably made just a little dig. ‘Though it’s a mistake that
only you could make.’

  He was appalled as she crumpled.

  ‘They were Jasmine’s,’ Leila sobbed. ‘They belonged to Jasmine. I had hidden them for her.’

  ‘Your sister who died?’ James checked, and Leila nodded. She never really spoke about them; she just tried to halt things when he asked questions about her family, but he asked a direct one now. ‘How long ago did that happen?’

  ‘Sixteen years ago.’

  He had assumed, just from the little she had told him, that whatever had happened had been a couple of years ago. That her mother had not been able to look at her since then appalled James.

  Sixteen years was a helluva long time to be ignored.

  She started crying then, really crying, and James took her to the lounge and, through tears, she told him some of her truth.

  ‘Jasmine had a trunk that I hid in my dressing room. The night I left Surhaadi, I had an argument with my mother. I was going to show her that Jasmine had been up to no good when she died, but then I decided to use those things on me instead. Everything that night was Jasmine’s—the clothes, the shoes, the make-up. I was trying to be her...’ She waited for the repercussions, for the crack of the whip. For him to tell her what a fool she was, for that was all she was used to, but when he spoke it was not in anger.

  ‘That’s pretty messed up, Leila,’ James said. And then she looked up and she could not believe that he gently smiled as he carried on speaking. ‘So I was making out with the ghost of Jasmine?’

  How could he touch on such a painful subject and not hurt her further?

  ‘No,’ Leila said. ‘I stopped trying to be her when I met you.’

  Why wasn’t he telling her she was stupid? Instead his hand was at her cheek, wiping away a tear, and he revealed a fear of his own.

  ‘I go over and over that night,’ James said. ‘I’m terrified that if I hadn’t been there what might have happened to you, because despite what everyone thinks, I did take care of you that night.’

  ‘You did,’ Leila said. ‘And no, it could only have been you. As I walked into that bar I had realised just how mad it was.’ She took a big breath and said the bravest words of her life. ‘And then I saw you. It could only have been you because had you not turned around when you did, then I would have run back to my suite. I would have taken off those clothes. I would have gone back to my parents and tried to somehow make it work, except I walked towards you.’

  ‘Good.’ James smiled. ‘I can breathe better now.’

  ‘I got us into this mess.’

  ‘Where’s the mess?’ James asked, and she looked deeply into his eyes and there was no mess to be seen. ‘The best thing that ever happened to me was the night you walked into that room.’ James admitted it not just to Leila but to himself. ‘We made a baby and while it’s taken some getting used to I don’t see that as a mess. You’re going to be an amazing mother. I’m going to do all I can to be the best father that I can be. I’ve never taken something more seriously in my life. I promise you, I will sort things out with your parents.’

  ‘You can’t,’ Leila said. ‘Please don’t make me a promise that you cannot keep. I want to ring my mother but I am too scared. I don’t want to know that she’s disowned me and that she might want nothing to do with my child.’ Leila let out a breath. ‘Maybe if I have a girl and call her Jasmine...’

  ‘Okay, let’s not make any decisions about that yet,’ James said hastily, because the more he heard about Jasmine the less he liked her. ‘I’ll try to at least not make things any worse with your parents, but I do promise you that I won’t cheat. Can you believe that much?’

  Almost.

  She wanted to believe that much, that this beautiful man actually wanted her, that love was coming into her life.

  ‘I’ll try.’

  ‘Bloody hell,’ James said. ‘Best speech of my life, lukewarm reception.’ He gave her his smile. ‘I’ll take it.’

  Leila had her sleep and James played the stock market, but every now and then he looked over to where she was sleeping, and at five, he called her name.

  ‘You’ve got work.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Now, I know that I’m going to sound really chauvinist,’ James said, ‘but I don’t want you working nights, not because I don’t want you working nights but because...’

  ‘I don’t want to go in either.’ Leila smiled because she wanted tonight to be with him.

  ‘Can you call in sick?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘You can.’

  ‘I won’t do that to them,’ Leila said, and took a breath, ‘though I was thinking of telling them that I won’t be coming back,’ Leila admitted. ‘Maybe on occasions but I like that season ticket that you got me for the orchestra and I love watching them rehearse.’

  It was the biggest compliment she could give him, that this very independent princess might trust him enough to take care of her.

  ‘Tell them that this is your last night,’ James said.

  Which meant, if he wanted to hear her play, then he’d be going along tonight too.

  James took a turn on the bed as Leila showered. She came out of the bathroom and dried herself in front of him and she did not turn her back and James did not move. Leila went over to the dressing table and took out her underwear that she had chosen and bought for herself and put them on and then did her make-up.

  And he still did not move.

  Leila walked over to the wardrobe and selected her favourite new robe, in the palest mint green. She slithered it on and then she met his eyes.

  ‘Are you going to offer to help with the buttons?’

  ‘Nope.’

  Leila put her arms behind her back and looked at him watching her body as she struggled with the small buttons.

  ‘Will you help me with my buttons?’

  There was no please but he jerked his head and she went over and turned around and stood holding her hair up as he sat on the edge of the bed.

  ‘Please?’ James said, watching the spread of colour on the back of her neck.

  ‘Please,’ Leila said.

  For every button her spine got a kiss, for every kiss her thighs loosened till he easily pulled her to his lap to do the last buttons to her neck. When they were done he did not turn her to face him; he just pulled her further back into his lap and his mouth met the heat of her neck.

  She wanted to turn but his hands held her hips, and his mouth was at the back of her ear so she could both feel and hear his ragged breathing as she pressed back into him.

  ‘I’ll call in sick...’ Leila offered, and not just for him!

  ‘It would be wrong to let them down at the last minute,’ James said as he released her from his knee.

  She stood, but did not meet his eyes, and as she put on her veil and left she did not ask what he would be doing tonight while she was working.

  They both knew where this night would lead.

  * * *

  Leila told the manager and Habib that this would be her last night playing at the restaurant and the manager let out a sigh. He had been expecting it, not just because he had worked out that she was the fiancée of James Chatsfield, but because of the way Leila played he had known that they would not have her for long. More and more the clients were asking for her. More and more the restaurant grew quiet as she played.

  ‘You’ll come and see us though?’ he checked.

  ‘Of course,’ Leila said. ‘I love dining here.’

  The restaurant was very busy and at first Leila quietly played. She did not look up, yet she knew the very moment that James walked in.

  She heard the murmur of the guests as a very well-known man entered, but more than that her heart knew and for a moment her fingers, which had never missed a note, faltered.

/>   James heard the silence and then breathed out as her gentle playing resumed.

  He was guided to a small low table that had a shisha pipe and many plates. James took a seat on the cushions and he told the waitress that no, he wasn’t expecting anyone to join him.

  He did not dine alone though, for her music spoke to him the whole night.

  It did.

  And it did not just speak to him, because as her music intensified, the guests started to work out that the mysterious beauty must surely be James Chatsfield’s fiancée, for why else would he be watching her so intently and with pride in his eyes as Leila told their story with her fingers.

  James heard of the fear and confusion that had spun her into the sky that night and had brought her to New York.

  He recognised the moment they met for there were two harmonies now coming from her fingers. Masculine and feminine, playing alongside, complementing the other, strengthening the other, enhancing the other.

  Their first kiss she captured and so, too, their first dance.

  The restaurant was entranced as she gave them her and James’s story.

  Did they know, James wondered, that Leila was telling them now of the night they had first made love?

  Did they get the pain that was being revealed to him now, as he left her alone in a hotel room?

  Could they understand her fingers spoke of confusion and fear that ran alongside the joy of knowing a baby was growing inside of her?

  Her music spoke of them again, of those tentative first days together, that had since spread into weeks. It told of anger that faded and rows that healed rather than hurt. It told of faltering steps towards intimate moments, but it did not say the one thing that now needed to be said.

  Rather abruptly the music concluded and Leila looked up and met his eyes.

  The restaurant broke into spontaneous applause. Leila had never been applauded for her music and it was somewhat overwhelming, but the best part of it was when they stepped outside and James told her he had been wrong.

  ‘You could raise ten babies on your music, Leila. You were amazing.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘It was about us, wasn’t it?’