by Anne Styles
She grimaced as she opened the door to the drawing room.
Charlotte was back in her jeans and a torn T-shirt, sprawled on one of the huge brocade sofas drinking Coke from the bottle - a habit she knew Nick hated. But opposite her ... Oh, God ... she thought helplessly, Charles sat calmly drinking tea. As neatly dressed as ever, in a pale grey suit, he even had his briefcase with him.
'Charles! How the hell did you get in here?' she demanded, and then the realization hit her. Charlotte had been on the phone constantly during the day. It must have been Charles she had been speaking to.
'Sarah, my dear!' Charles stood up. A different Charles, hard-eyed, and brittle-calm. 'What a greeting! Come and give me a kiss, darling.'
'The hell I will!' Sarah held the door open. 'Get out of here! I will never forgive you for what you tried to do to Nick and me! And neither will he!'
'Such melodrama! I told you the truth, Sarah, and don't you forget it! You look absolutely wonderful! Motherhood certainly suits you.'
'Stop it right there!' Sarah snapped. 'Just how did you get in here, anyway?'
'I invited him,' Charlotte announced defiantly. 'I thought he should have a chance to talk to you while Daddy wasn't on guard.'
'And your gateman wasn't going to refuse an old friend of the family, now, was he?' Charles was within a couple of feet of her, and she backed off nervously. There was something about him that she didn't like today. 'Not when Charlotte vouched for me!' he added smoothly.
'Stay away from me!' She tried to sound confident. 'Charlotte! Ring for Raoul. Tell him to come here immediately.'
'No, Charlotte!' Charles countermanded. 'You can go and fetch the baby. I'd like to see the results of all my care over the last few months. I think I have the right to that, don't you, Sarah?'
'No, I damn well don't!' Sarah was in a panic now. Any moment Sam would be wanting his feed, and there was even a possibility Isabelle would bring him down to the drawing room. 'Do as I said. Charlotte.'
'She will do no such thing! This time I am going to do things my way.' Charles reached for his briefcase, and Sarah began to shake with fear as she realized that there was indeed something very different about this man who had always shown her nothing but kindness. He appeared to have lost all control. And then she knew she was right ...
Charles flipped open the case, and in the next second he had a revolver in his hand, pointing straight at her.
She froze, recognizing the gun. It was one of a pair he kept in the gun room. They had all used them several times, to shoot at tin cans in the garden, and she knew just how good a shot Charles was; far better than Nick or her.
'You are coming with me, Sarah. You and the baby! This time I won't let Nick cheat me.'
'He didn't cheat you before, Charlie,' Sarah managed in a strangled voice. 'You know he didn't. Natasha tried to go to Nick despite him telling her not to.'
'Oh, but he did! He wanted Natasha back and he would have stopped at nothing to get her! Charlotte, go and get that baby now!' Equally horrified now. Charlotte stood up, and the Coke bottle slid from her fingers. Almost in a dream, Sarah saw the brown liquid soak into the Persian rug and thought casually how it would stain. Then her frantic eyes met Charlotte's.
'Don't, Lotte,' she begged. 'Tell Isabelle to take him to Miriam.'
'But Miriam . . . Oh . . .' Charlotte edged cautiously towards Sarah, her eyes glued to the gun.
'Miriam is out,' Charles said coolly. 'My little friend here was only too chatty this morning. Nice try, Sarah. Now we are going to take the baby and leave here together. Charlotte here will tell her daddy that you have changed your mind about him and have decided to come back to me.'
'By force? Dream on, Charles Hastings! I'm not going anywhere with you!'
'But you are, Sarah.' Charles moved rapidly and caught her arm. 'We are going to be a very happy little family, you and I. Maybe we'll even manage to have a child of our own one day.'
'You have gone totally crazy!' Sarah tried to twist out of his grasp, but anger made him strong, and suddenly the gun muzzle was cold at the side other throat. All the self-defence lessons she had taught on the programme were useless in this position.
'I've never been more sane in my life!' he assured her. 'This is going to be Nick's turn to suffer. Now get the baby. Charlotte, or I'll kill her now!'
'Uncle Charlie. . .' Charlotte pleaded, white-faced with fear. 'Please . . . don't.'
Charles whirled suddenly and the gun exploded, shattering a mirror close behind Charlotte's head, sending shards of glass everywhere as she screamed. 'Do it, Charlotte!' he ordered..
'Oh, God!' Charlotte fled, sobbing with fright, as Charles swung the gun back onto Sarah. In that split second Sarah heard the crunch of gravel on the forecourt and she realized Nick and Miriam were back - they would be walking straight into danger. If Charles would shoot at Nick's daughter, he would certainly shoot at Nick!
He was dragging her inexorably towards the door, the gun still pressed into her neck, his other arm trapping both hers. Now she had nothing to lose, as long as Charlotte didn't bring Sam. 'Nick!' she screamed, at a pitch only an actress could reach. This time it mattered that her voice carried. 'Nick! For God's sake. . . help. . .' Then Charles hit her with the butt of the gun, and her cry became a strangled scream as the pain of the blow stunned her for a moment.
Nick and Miriam, puzzled by the gateman's explanation of a visitor for Charlotte, were already alert as they reached the front door to be met by a sobbing Charlotte, hurling herself at Nick, almost incoherent with fear.
'Daddy! Daddy! It's Uncle Charles. He's got a gun. I think he's going to kill Sarah! Oh, do something. Daddy.' Nick thrust Charlotte aside, every sense alert.
'Miriam, get the men!' he ordered. 'Lotte, get Sam and Isabelle out of here. The pool house, next door - any-where! Move!' Charlotte raced upstairs just as Charles dragged Sarah out of the drawing room. Blood ran down her face from the blow on her cheek and Nick's heart stopped for a moment as he took in the horrifying scenario in front of him. It was a common enough scene in any of his films - but not in real life! Charles had the gun firmly at her throat and her arms pinioned by her side. That he was having to drag her, and having trouble doing so, was obvious to him.
Sarah was almost as tall as Charles, and even having lost some weight she was still half a stone heavier that she had been.
'Leave her, Charles,' he said, as calmly as he could. 'Your quarrel is with me, not Sarah.'
'But it's Sarah I want. Nick - not you! You don't matter any more, because Sarah is going to be with me!'
'And how do you propose to keep her with you?' Nick taunted. 'Come on, Charlie, be sensible - let her go.'
'Never! I'll kill her first!' His grip on Sarah tightened, and Sarah couldn't help her stifled moan. Every tensioned muscle in her body screamed with pain as Charles wrenched her forward. Behind him. Nick was aware of other people in the doorway, and he heard the frightened cry of the maid as he frantically gestured them back. He, of all people, knew that when Charles was as cool as this he was dangerous. Charles rarely lost it, but when he did. . .
'Move over, Nick!' Charles snarled waving the gun at him, but Nick took a step forward instead, and then dared another. It was the one chance Sarah needed - and probably, she realized, her only one. With a hard jerk of her pinioned body she threw Charles off-balance, and the gun went off again, somewhere in the ceiling, bringing lumps of plaster down.
In that split second Nick lunged forward, hurling Sarah aside and launching himself on Charles in one almost continuous movement. A week or two earlier and he would never have been able to do it, but the rest and the adrenalin had brought his strength back in abundance. The three guards immediately sprang across the room to pull Sarah away from danger, and for a moment it was total chaos.
Locked together. Nick and Charles fought some macabre dance for long seconds, until suddenly Charles began to choke - long, heaving sounds that made Nick loosen his grip on him. Charle
s was going blue, grasping at his chest, until with a deep moan he slid to the floor.
For a moment Nick stared, stunned, as Charles shuddered and then lay still. Then he realized what was happening and dropped to his knees beside him,, all animosity forgotten in an instant. 'Get some help!' he rasped at the men. 'And an ambulance. Oh, God, Miriam!' He was desperately feeling for a pulse and not finding one, ripping open Charles's shirt as he did so.
Miriam rapped out orders and joined Nick on the floor. 'Is he injured?' she demanded, puzzled.
'No! I think it's his heart; he's had an attack before. Try and find Isabelle, someone. Sarah?'
'I'll do it.' Sarah ran upstairs, hardly able to watch as Nick, in desperation, leant over Charles's prone figure and, taking a deep breath, began mouth-to-mouth resuscitation with Miriam's help. Charlotte and Isabelle had locked themselves in the nursery suite, and it was frantic seconds before Sarah could convince them that it was safe to unlock the door. Sam was howling with hunger and Sarah grabbed at him. 'I'll see to him. Isabelle, please, will you go down to Nick?'
'Daddy! Is he hurt?' Charlotte screamed, and Sarah stared at her. She had almost forgotten Charlotte.
'No - no thanks to you!' she snapped, and collapsed into a chair with Sam in her arms. Distractedly, she pulled the strap of her dress down and let Sam find his own way to her breast - which, like a little homing pigeon, he did.
'How could you have let Charles in?' she demanded, when silence had been achieved. 'After all you knew he had done to us?
'I didn't believe you, Sarah,' Charlotte admitted shame-facedly. 'I... I thought. . . you and Daddy were making it up, so that I'd forgive you about Sam. That's what Charlie said.' In floods of tears again, she almost fell across the room and buried her face in Sarah's lap. 'Oh, Sarah, I'm so sorry - so very sorry ... I had no idea he was going to do that! Really I didn't! I didn't want any harm to come to you, or Sam.' Sarah reached down and curved her hand over Charlotte's dark curls.
'I know,' she said softly. 'Charlotte, even I had no idea Charles could be so ... well . . . violent. And I know him as well as Nick does - better in some ways. Don't cry, darling, I think we all need to keep calm for a while.' She shuddered, realizing for the first time how close to death all three of them had come. Only the suckling baby kept her calm at that moment, and she went on stroking Charlotte's hair in a desperate attempt to get her to relax a little .too.
They were still like that when Nick appeared in the doorway, fraught and dishevelled. 'He's breathing,' he said wearily. 'The ambulancemen are here so they have taken over. Isabelle was fantastic! Sarah, Charlotte - are you all right?'
'Oh, Daddy!' Charlotte hurled herself at Nick, her face tear-stained and red. 'Daddy, I'm so sorry.'
Relieved, Nick hugged her. 'It's all right, darling, you weren't to know. None of us were, but I guess I should have known he might try something like that - he threatened to.' With his arm still around Charlotte, he moved to Sarah, bending to kiss her cheek, only too aware, with some distaste, that his mouth tasted of Charles. 'I'll have to go to the hospital with them,' he told her gently. 'But as far as anyone else is concerned it was just a heart attack. We took the gun away and the staff will say nothing.'
'Nick! He nearly killed us!' Sarah protested.
'Yes, I know.' Nick looked grave. 'But I don't want it to get out - can you understand that? We've been friends for so long, darling, despite everything. Even if I never see him again - which I won't, believe me - I can't do it to him.'
'Nick!' Sarah disengaged Sam and pulled her dress back up. 'I think you are a far better friend to Charles than he ever deserves to have. But if that's what you want I'll go along with it; I promise.' Nick went into the nursery bathroom and washed his face, then quickly rinsed out his mouth with antiseptic. He felt sick now the drama was receding, and he gripped the edge of the basin as nausea churned in his stomach.
Finally, pulling himself together, he dampened a flannel and took it back to Sarah, to gently clean up the damage to her cheek where the blood had started to dry up. She had almost forgotten about it, and she looked at the blood on the flannel in surprise.
'I nearly had a heart attack myself when I saw that,' he admitted. 'But in actual fact it's little more than a graze. You were very lucky - in fact we all were. Look, I'll have to go. I'll be back as quickly as I can. Will you go and help Miriam for me, darling? I think she's as shaken as we are.' He was struggling to be matter-of-fact, when all he really wanted to do was grab Sarah in his arms and never let her go. The thought of the next few hours filled him with horror, but he knew he had to get through them. Hospitals were still part of Nick's nightmares.
When he had finally gone, following the ambulance in his own car, Sarah pulled herself together and, after giving a repentant Charlotte strict instructions on how to look after Sam, went downstairs to Miriam. Somehow the two of them marshalled the bewildered staff into action, to clear up the broken mirror and generally make good the damage Nick and Charles had caused as they fought. Neither of them felt like eating, but when Charlotte came down, after handing over to Isabelle, Miriam poured them all a glass of brandy - including Charlotte.
'I think we all need this,' she decided firmly. 'Or at least, I do!' Sarah smiled, for the first time in hours.
'I need it too, so Sam will sleep well tonight!' Seth only bought good cognac, and it slipped down - the first alcohol Sarah had had since Sam's birth except for the champagne - and she relaxed in minutes. Tentatively, Charlotte crept up to her as she leant back on the sofa, still clutching her own glass, hardly daring to drink it.
'Sarah,' she whispered. 'Will Uncle Charlie be OK?'
'I honestly don't know. All Nick said was that he was breathing.' Sarah frowned.
'He worked miracles,' Miriam said in admiration. 'He simply wouldn't give up. Neither would Isabelle.'
'Daddy really is rather special, isn't he?' Charlotte said. 'Uncle Charles was very close to me with that bullet; I was so scared.'
'We all were,' Sarah admitted. 'But I'm sure Charlie only meant to frighten us, darling.' He was too good a shot to miss at that range.
Charlotte huddled close to Sarah, as she had done upstairs, for what seemed like hours, until Nick finally came back at almost midnight. He looked exhausted, and his face was pinched with fatigue as he slumped into a chair while Miriam silently handed him a glass.
'So far, so good,' he said slowly, 'He's still alive, but only just. We'll ring in the morning. We can only hope now.'
'In that case there's nothing else we can do,' Miriam said firmly. 'Come on, Lotte, bedtime.' Left alone. Nick and Sarah clung together. 'It was a massive attack,' Nick said eventually. 'I really don't see how he can survive it, but I do want him to. I really do. I hope that doesn't seem disloyal to you, darling. I'm so confused.'
'It's not disloyal at all,' Sarah affirmed. 'I think over the last few weeks. Nick, I have learnt just how kind and thoughtful you can be. You hide your feelings most of the time, but with me and Charlotte, and especially Sam, you're so different.'
'I learnt long ago to keep my feelings to myself,' Nick mused. 'At home, at school, even at university, it really was frowned on to show them. It wasn't till Tasha came along that I learnt to say I love you. But when I lost her to Charles, I vowed I would never say it again. I don't think I ever told Diana that I loved her, yet I can't tell you enough.' He hugged her so tightly she thought her ribs would crack, but she knew then just how much he needed her and welcomed it. His pain was hers at this moment.
'Let's go to bed. Nick,' she begged. 'I need you to hold me.'
'That is something I've been longing to do all evening.' Nick lifted her to her feet with alacrity, and led her up the stairs.
When Sarah came out of the bathroom, wearing a long, floating white nightdress he had bought her in Nice, he was just putting down the phone. 'No change,' he said briefly, and strode into the bathroom. Sarah sat on the window-seat looking out over the subtly lit gardens and felt the tears
of relief begin to slide inexorably down her cheeks. Frantically she wiped them away. She had no reason to cry for Charles, had she?
Nick came back into the room, his bare feet silent on the thick carpets. Since he couldn't make love to her, he had taken to wearing shorts to sleep in, but she felt the soft hair on his naked chest rub against her own bare back as he slid his arms around her, nuzzling her hair away from her neck with his lips. They were gentle on the curve of her neck, and Sarah smiled as she turned ill his arms.
'I love you, Nicholas,' she said softly. 'More than anything or anybody in the world.' Nick laughed and nodded towards the crib where Sam slept peacefully, his tiny fists clenched each side of his dark head. He shared their room at night so that Sarah could feed him - though the previous night he had slept right through to their immense relief.
'Even more than Sam?' he teased.
'Sam is part of both of us,' Sarah argued as he lifted her up. 'A very precious part. You don't regret him, do you, Nick?'
'Only when he's wailing at three o'clock in the morning! No - silly girl - I don't regret him I would never regret him. I love him as you do, and once we're married I'd like to have other babies! I've got over that stupid fear now, thanks to you. In fact I have become a totally different person because of you. Much stronger, in some ways.' .
'And protective,' Sarah added, as he slipped her into the bed and then joined her.
'The next few weeks I'm going to need to be,' he sighed. 'Imagine what will happen now! The Press will be down on us like the proverbial locusts they are - not to mention Diana. No way are they going to believe that Charles paid us a friendly visit and had a heart attack in the process. And if he dies . . .!
'Oh, God! Nick what are we going to do?' Sarah buried her face in the pillows as if to hide from the prospect.
They had suffered enough from the press harassment of the last few weeks.
'Depends a bit on Charlie. It might seem a bit callous to whisk you off to LA while he is so ill - but it would be safer for us all. Charlotte should go back to Diana, anyway, so she will be OK. Thank goodness she was upstairs when it happened; she was very fond of Charlie - even named after him.' 'Is,' Sarah corrected.