‘I know that’s a rather old-fashioned word, and probably a cliché too, but there’s really no other word suitable. You did. You sparkled! In all the time I’ve known you, I’ve never seen you as happy as you were that night, Hero. And now look at yourself.’
Hero lifted her head and looked taken aback.
‘I’m sorry, darling, but it’s true. You’re thoroughly miserable, you’re so low that you catch every virus passing within a five-mile radius, you—’
‘Is this supposed to be helping?’
Rupert sighed and took her other hand. ‘I’m just pointing out the facts.’
‘Yeah, thanks for that, Rupert. I was a little unsure of them.’ Hero snatched her hands away and bumped up a seat on the sofa, away from him.
‘Don’t be sarcastic, Hero. It’s not attractive.’
‘You know what, Rupert, I really don’t give a shit.’ Her tone was defensive as it struggled to mask all the hurt she was desperately trying to contain.
Rupert let out a sigh. Hero got back up, crossing the room to stare out at the waves. The wind was picking up and the white horses seemed to grow wilder with every wash.
‘So that’s it then?’
Nick’s exact words. She could hear his voice, see the pain in his face, and the anger, and the love. She didn’t turn but Rupert knew. This too was something new. He shook his head. He had never seen Hero either as happy, or as sad.
When she had cried herself out, Rupert looked into the beautiful green eyes, now swollen and red.
‘I’m sorry if what I said hurt you, darling. I just want the best for you.’
‘I know.’
Rupert paused. ‘There is such a thing as forgiveness.’
‘No. I can’t, Rupert. We were supposed to be in love! You can’t just go around accusing people of things like that.’
‘Haven’t you ever made mistakes, Hero? Said something you wish you hadn’t?’
I’m leaving sprang to mind.
‘This is different.’
Rupert looked at her for a long moment, and then threw up his hands in resignation.
‘I don’t know what else to say.’
Hero closed her eyes. Nick’s words yet again.
‘You obviously had something with this chap. Something amazing. And he clearly felt the same way considering he waited years for you.’
Hero rolled her eyes. ‘He was hardly saving himself.’
Rupert waved her comment away. ‘Whatever. He made a big mistake believing the word of some cheap barmaid, I admit that, but it’s amazing what you think sounds reasonable when you’ve been awake for far too long which, from what you told me, was the case. Alongside his history, it unfortunately made for the perfect storm.’
‘That’s no excuse.’
‘No. It’s not. I’m just saying people make mistakes. Intelligent people learn from them. You were happy. I just want you to be absolutely sure that you think walking away is the right decision. You’re going to have to go back out there at some point. You know that. They’re your only family. If you go back and this man is with someone else, married to someone else, I just want you to be able to say, “What I did was right for me.” And not through any sense of injured pride either, but because you know in your heart that it was the right thing to do.’
‘Rupert?’
‘Yes?’
‘If he had cheated on me, would you still be telling me to forgive him?’
‘Good God, no. I’d be telling you to forget the ungrateful fool!’
Hero smiled through the tears that still washed her eyes.
Rupert touched her face. ‘But he didn’t though, did he?’
Hero shook her head, her throat too tight to speak. Rupert’s words were circling around in her head. Nick with someone else. Nick married to someone else.
‘Why don’t you call him?’
Hero shook her head and smiled at him sadly. ‘I can’t.’
‘Can, but won’t,’ Rupert corrected.
Hero looked away.
‘Fine. I’ve said my piece. You win. Except from where I sit, it seems like a very hollow victory indeed.’
‘I agree.’
Rupert threw his hands up. ‘So why not call the man then?’
‘Because it’s too late, Rupert!’
‘How do you know?’
Hero gave a bitter laugh. ‘Because I do. For God’s sake, you saw his photograph. Women practically fall at his feet. I don’t think his bed would have been cold for very long.’
Rupert began the long drive back to London. The rain that had threatened all day had made good on its promise and was now bouncing off the Aston’s windscreen. Rupert thought about Hero, and the comment about her ex’s attraction. So, there was a little streak of jealousy in her after all. Just like the ex. Just like everyone else. He knew she wouldn’t call him. Not yet. But he’d got the feeling that she might find out from her sister, in an oh-so-casual way, what the chap in question was up to, and that was, at least, a start.
Hero sat staring at the email. She had written the usual – talking about the weather, what she had been doing, which wasn’t much thanks to the flu, about the books she had been reading and a couple of interesting programmes she’d watched. She asked about Pete and the children. She had also asked about Nick. Just casually, slotting it in there between everything else. She knew Juliet would pick up on it straight away, however she tried to disguise it. But she had to know. Rupert’s words had been taunting her. Sneaky Rupert. Clever Rupert. She smiled to herself as she read the email again and then hit the save button. Switching off the laptop, Hero popped it in its protective bag and picked up her suitcase. The taxi was just drawing up as she shut and locked the front door.
‘Taxi for Barker?’
‘That’s me,’ Hero called, answering to one of the old pseudonyms she had employed in her previous life. She smiled at the driver. He smiled back. It wasn’t very often women who looked like that smiled at him and he made the most of it.
‘Heathrow then?’
‘Yes please.’
‘Long drive.’
‘Yes.’
‘So, you renting this place then?’
‘Yes.’
The cabbie gave up, concentrating on the road instead. The woman was polite, but she obviously wasn’t interested in conversation. She looked as if she had something else on her mind.
‘And get some sun,’ Rupert had said as he pulled away. ‘Your body’s probably missing it!’
Hero smiled to herself. She had taken two pieces of Rupert’s advice in one go. He might actually faint when she told him.
‘Have a nice trip,’ the driver said, handing over the expensive luggage. She rewarded him with a wide smile and a big tip.
‘Thank you.’
She checked the desk number required on an overhead screen, then walked leisurely over to it, heading for the first-class check-in where an attractive brunette sat at the desk. Her name tag read Polly Myers.
‘Good morning.’
‘Hello.’ Hero smiled at her as she handed over her passport.
‘Thank you. I’ll just check your details.’
The customer service agent opened the passport to check against the tickets booked. Like she needed the passport to tell her the woman’s name. Vogue was her bible. How could she not know the woman standing before her, especially after that horrendous accident? She seemed to have dropped off the face of the earth after that. All the tabloids had run stories of how badly scarred she was, how she would never walk again, how her agency had dumped her the minute the story broke. Polly knew the majority of it was just filler.
Hero Scott had been critically injured, yes, and Anya Svenson had been killed in that road accident. The police had confirmed that much on the evening news, but little else had ever been released to the public. The so-called news articles that had littered the media and internet said very little and what they did wasn’t substantiated. In time, Vogue had done a very tasteful piece
on the two star models in their prestigious September issue, documenting how their careers had begun and how they had ended. They had also stated that the agency that had represented the two had not dumped Hero Scott, but would be keeping her contract open indefinitely, should she ever choose to return to modelling. Those in the know had commented that it was more as a sign of respect than a business proposition, but still. It had silenced the red top rags and become one of the biggest selling issues in its history. Polly had felt a sense of pride at that. Vogue had, in a very classy way, stuck its tongue out at the tabloids and said, ‘So there!’
Hero watched the agent tapping at the keyboard with perfectly manicured nails. Subconsciously she balled her fists to hide the state of her own nails. Amazingly, on the station they had been in pretty good shape. One of the first things Juliet had done when Hero came out to live with them was instigate a regular girls’ night. Every couple of weeks the bathroom was commandeered and they would sit and do each other’s nails, deep condition their hair and slap on face masks. Bridie had soon wanted to join in and they made a big fuss of including her in the treatments. One of Hero’s favourite pictures of her niece was of her wearing a full organic face mask, her hair in a towel and a huge grin. How she missed them. All of them.
‘All done, Miss Scott,’ said Polly, handing back the passport together with a boarding pass after checking in Hero’s single suitcase. ‘Have a good flight.’ She then indicated the way to the first-class lounge.
Polly guessed that the ex-model probably knew the way, having flown with them in that class plenty of times before, according to her screen, but it was never polite to assume. She smiled again as Hero turned back towards the main body of the airport. There were no other customers waiting so Polly watched her walk away. There was a definite limp, but she still managed to look graceful. Wow! Hero Scott. Polly had been dying to ask her where she had been all this time, whether she would ever be going back to modelling, what she had been doing, but the young woman valued her job far too much to do that.
There were certainly benefits to having money, and travelling first class was one of them. Hero sat in the serene, exclusive departure lounge, and signed on to the complimentary Wi-Fi network on her smartphone. She re-read the email she’d written earlier, changed a typo and sent it off. Standing, she made her way over to the snacks and drinks, helping herself to some of both before heading for a comfortable armchair tucked away in the corner. Some people stared, whether it was from recognition or attraction, it didn’t matter. Hero never noticed.
‘Sorry to see it go?’ Sarah Sullivan asked as the dust trails kicked out from behind Paul’s old ute.
‘Yeah. A bit. Still, I do have a shiny new toy to play with now.’ He grinned and looked over to where a brand-new scarlet red 4x4 sat gleaming on the driveway.
Sarah laughed and reached up to pat her son’s cheek. ‘I don’t know. You boys and your toys. Your father’s exactly the same.’
Right on cue, her husband stepped from the house out onto the verandah. ‘Not taking my name in vain again, are you?’
Sarah laughed and turned to link her arm in Bill’s. ‘Would I?’
‘Gone then, has it?’
‘Yep. Oh, and thanks for clearing it out for me, Mum. I do appreciate it.’ Paul gave her a squeeze.
‘Yes, yes. Don’t worry, you’ll make it up to me.’
Paul had had honest intentions of clearing out the accumulated junk himself, but a call had come in from his office and the telephone had been subsequently glued to his ear for the following two hours. His mother had brought him a coffee at one point and had seen that he was going to be tied up for some time yet. Bob was due to pick up the ute later that day and he wasn’t going to be happy if it was still filled with all Paul’s rubbish.
‘I threw most of it out, but there’s a little pile of things I wasn’t sure about so I’ve left them for you to go through.’
Paul saw where she was pointing and wandered over, as his parents disappeared back inside the house. He prodded the pile. Looked like most of it could go. A card slipped off the desk and fluttered to the floor. He picked it up and made to toss it back on the pile. Then he looked again.
Sarah and Bill peered out the window as the sound of crunching gravel and spinning tyres drew their attention.
Joe read the card. ‘Rupert Thorne-Smith. Thorne-Smith Holdings.’
‘Tell Nick this is The Rupert. Hero’s Rupert.’
‘OK. He shouldn’t be long.’
‘Good. Give it to him as soon as you see him. I reckon this bloke might be able to give us a clue as to where Hero might be. It’s got to be worth a try anyway.’
Joe nodded in agreement, a flash of hope in his eyes.
Paul clapped him on the shoulder. ‘Let’s hope, eh?’ he said before heading back out to his car.
Joe put the card in his top pocket and waited for Nick.
Nick was unloading sacks of feed into the storage shed when he saw Joe hurrying towards him across the yard.
‘All right, mate?’ he said, stretching his back as he straightened.
Joe held the card out in front of him. ‘Paul came over and dropped this off. He said to give it to you as soon as I saw you.’
Frowning, Nick took the card and read the name.
‘It’s Hero’s friend. The one that helped with the hospital stuff and that she met in Adelaide.’
‘Yep. I know.’ Nick’s voice was flat as he stuck the card into his pocket and returned to unloading the feed.
Joe watched in confusion.
‘If you’re not doing anything, you can give me a hand with these,’ Nick said, seeing Joe still standing there. But Joe didn’t move.
‘Aren’t you going to call him?’
‘Who?’
‘Rupert.’
‘I don’t know.’
Joe’s face screwed up in confusion. ‘But he might know where she is.’
Nick shrugged. ‘Maybe. Maybe not.’
‘Isn’t it worth a try?’
‘I don’t know. I’ll think about it. You going to give me a hand with these or what?’
‘No!’
Nick turned at the severity in Joe’s voice. ‘What’s wrong with you?’
‘What?’
‘Everything all right?’ Pete asked, as he and Juliet got out of the ute they’d just pulled up in.
‘Yes,’ Nick replied.
‘No!’ Joe said, at the same time.
Pete arched an eyebrow. ‘So which is it?’
‘It’s nothing.’ Nick shot Joe a look, but for the first time in his life, Joe ignored him.
‘It’s not nothing! You’ve got the chance to find Hero and you’re not even going to bother trying? I don’t understand!’
‘You know where Hero is?’ Juliet asked, a mixture of surprise and hope in her voice.
‘No.’
Pete scratched his head. ‘Then what the hell is going on?’
Joe started before Nick could. He’d always trusted Pete and Nick, trusted them to make the best decisions. But not this time. From what he could see, Nick was about to make the second worst one of his life. ‘Paul came over earlier and dropped off one of Rupert’s business cards.’
‘Hero’s Rupert?’ Juliet asked.
Nick looked away.
‘Does he know where she is?’ she prompted impatiently. Unknown to anyone, Juliet had rung Rupert a couple of times after Hero had first left, begging him to let her know where she was, her mind rushing back to that day Hero had phoned, sounding so small and broken. He promised he didn’t know where she was – which was true. But he couldn’t promise to tell her if he came to find out. Not if Hero asked him not to. As much as Juliet had sobbed over his answer, she also understood it. Rupert had shown his loyalty to her sister at the time of the accident. She would never be able to thank him for what he’d done back then. She just had to trust that, if Hero was in need ever again, he would be there for her if Juliet couldn’t be. She hadn’t told a
nyone she’d called. Hadn’t wanted to raise her, or anyone else’s hopes.
‘I don’t know. But isn’t it worth trying to find out?’ Joe asked.
‘Well you ring him then!’ Nick snapped, slamming the tailgate of the ute shut.
‘Nick!’ Pete warned him.
‘What? You think a bloke like that is going to tell me where she is, assuming he knows at all? He’s going to be loyal to her. They might even be an item now for all we know! As far as he’s concerned I’ve hurt her. Badly. I’m the last person in the world she’d want him to tell.’
‘Which is why it has to be you who calls!’ Joe shouted back at him. ‘I know I’m not exactly the brightest bulb on the Christmas tree but even I know that! If it’s any of us, Hero is going to think that it’s only us that want her back. Not you. Unless of course, you don’t. In which case, you don’t deserve her anyway!’ Joe’s chest heaved, and tears shone on his gentle face. He glared at Nick who, like the others, stood looking at Joe in surprise. Joe had never spoken to Nick, to anyone, like that before. Silence hung between them. ‘I need to get back to work,’ Joe said, breaking it as he spun on his heel and strode off across the yard.
‘I’m going to go and see if he’s all right,’ Juliet said. ‘I’ve never seen him like that before.’ Her expression was as upset as Joe’s had been as she hurried after him.
‘None of us have,’ Pete replied, looking pointedly at Nick.
‘Don’t!’ Nick warned. ‘Don’t you start too!’ Yanking open the driver’s door, he got in, revved the engine and sped out of the yard, the wheels sliding on the loose dust as he did so.
It was dark when he pulled in to the drive of the Gatehouse. He’d spent the afternoon just driving, until eventually he found a spot under the shade of a huge tree, and having pulled the ute to a stop, he’d sat for hours, staring out at the scenery without seeing any of it, images of what had, and might have been filling his eyes instead.
Nick hated to go to bed now. Often he would wake up on the sofa, having put the action of going upstairs off a moment too long. He’d moved into the now completed Gatehouse but for all the years of planning and excitement and dreaming, the event had been an anti-climax. For years he had thought that it would be perfect. And then Hero had returned to them and the pipedream thoughts he’d occasionally entertained of her being a permanent part of his life became reality. Nick had shared the plans of the house with her, asking her opinions and, when he felt she was ready, asking her to move in with him. Her beautiful smile, the laughter in her voice as she’d accepted still rang in his mind clear and joyous.
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