Frequent Traveller (Cathy Dixon #1)

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Frequent Traveller (Cathy Dixon #1) Page 4

by Pandora Poikilos


  Arrogant by their authority and selfish with their passion, nothing else mattered to the two lovers. Cathy drove back to the hotel and did her best to steer clear of them.

  Just before lunchtime the next day, she saw him again. All morning, phone calls had been made, emails sent and decisions finalised. As she sat in his office with the doors closed, she slowly handed him the twenty-six pictures that would change the course of his career. Deppe seemed convinced that he was not in trouble until she explained what she had seen the previous night. He grew red in the face but denied little which was decent enough.

  "You will be transferred, so will she. To different properties, of course and at different times. We will release an official statement saying your expertise is required elsewhere. You will give Simms a two week vacation which will give you more than enough time to prepare a handover. In the meantime, I would recommend that the two of you do not speak."

  Cathy waited for a response and got none so she continued.

  "I will be leaving today but the others from Corporate Office will be arriving. Regional Human Resources will be arriving tomorrow, they would like to interview some of the associates and heads of departments. My boss, Senior VP of Communications, Eugena Nabb will be arriving on Friday to work with your Public Relations Manager on the press releases and other media matters."

  His lips quivered slightly as she stood up and made her way to the door. She heard a soft, "I'm sorry, you must be having a rotten perception of me."

  Cathy turned to face Deppe again, "With all due respect, you're apologising to the wrong person. What I think of you is the least of your problems. All the best, Mr. Deppe."

  ANTIGUA, CARIBBEAN

  October 2007

  Located in the Leeward Islands of the Caribbean region, Antigua is well known for its rustic tourist charm. Its native name Wadadli was changed to Antigua which means “ancient" in Spanish. This change was made by Christopher Columbus in 1493 and was accepted by its locals. With a population of eighty thousand, it is estimated that more than thirty thousand people currently live in its capital, St. John's.

  Between its first occupants, the Arawaks and the Europeans, Antigua has led a very colourful past which has made it one of the most luxurious holiday escapes sold on any travel brochure. It has also gained international recognition for its highest peak, Mount Obama. Cruise ships are allowed to dock all year round which makes it easy for one to organize or participate in international yachting and sailing competitions, sport fishing and kite-surfing.

  In 2005, the Cricket World Cup was hosted here and attracted a throng of foreign tourists. Aside from these recognised sports, Antigua has also become popularly unpopular for its role in allowing companies to host 'illegal’ online gambling sites.

  However, this is a subjective view shared by all parties concerned. The United States is adamant that offshore gambling should not be permitted in protection of its own citizens. Antigua, however, stands proud in being the first country to legalise online gambling and has had its arguments backed by the World Trade Organisation.

  Caught between such beauty and such conflict, lay the exclusive MoonStar Antigua which housed twenty villas designed with guest privacy in mind. Each villa was tucked away between its own garden and plush greenery with the next villa located a good ten minutes away. Adding to the luxurious feel of a guest's stay each villa was also equipped with a spacious rain shower, massage corner and private swimming pool.

  On one particularly windy night, a shadow was seen creeping down the path towards one of the villas. Rustling the grass while looking for a key, he sneaked in through main door.

  Thomas Clarke stood at the bedroom doorway breathing in the sight before him. Dressed casually in a white V-neck t-shirt and stonewashed blue jeans, his lanky six-feet, two inch frame cast a shadow in the room. It was late at night or early in the morning depending on how one looked at it. The room had a blended scent of vanilla, strawberries, lavender and a tinge of oranges. The creamy sheets were a mess as though someone had found it difficult to make a decision to sleep with or without them. And quite literally, beauty lay within it.

  Dressed in her usual night attire of cotton shorts and a t-shirt which covered very little and exposed even more, Cathy's red hair tumbled all around her. Though sound asleep, her brow crinkled and her lips were curved in a smile.

  "Did she ever switch that brain of hers off ...?" muttered Thomas to himself.

  Slowly he approached the bed, his one index finger pointedly touching her shoulder.

  "Hey you," a sleepy voice mumbled through the sheets.

  "Hey," he replied as he pulled off his jeans and started to get into bed.

  "What happened? I waited for close to forever and then got tired."

  "Yea, I'm sorry Sweets. I lost my bag and then got held up at Customs and then had problems getting a ride. But look on the bright side, you said to make sure nobody saw me getting in. At this hour no one was about."

  With a soft laugh, she sat up and looked at him. It had been months since she had laid eyes on his familiar face. Now, facing him she noted the lines around his eyes, the tired smile and the stubble on his chin. He was the very description of what one called a weary traveller.

  "I have missed you so much, you know," he said in a loud whisper. His eyes roamed on the figure in front of him as he reached out for her.

  "Oh Tom Tom, I have missed you too," she threw herself into his arms and placed her head on his chest.

  "It has been ages hasn't it?" She sighed. "My safest place in the world."

  He kissed her forehead and breathed in her scent. He might be her safest place in the world but she was his life and he wondered if she would ever realise that she was his living breath.

  "Cat, listen ... I love you. You know that but you need to start being open with me. After all this time, trust me a little even if you cannot trust all of me. I'm on your side and it's been years Cat since it happened. You need to start talking."

  Feeling her grow tense, he held her closer burying his face in her hair. Gently he kissed her forehead and face, small kisses, filled with hope that he would be her everything, as she was to him. The smell of mandarins from her shampoo, clutched at his nostrils, flooding him with longing more than ever. How was it even possible to love someone with such intensity and yet know so little about them?

  And still as she looked up at him with those big almond shaped eyes, he knew he would settle for a spoonful of her even if not the entire helping. After all, that was the Cathy Dixon way, "have me in small portions or risk never seeing me again."

  "What if I tell you and they come to hurt you? I would never be able to live with myself. Why do you always need everything, Thomas? Why can't you just be content with what I give?! It is always more and more with you."

  Even in the dim light, he could see Cathy's face flash and change to a colour that matched the fiery red of her hair as she got out of bed. Thomas stood up to face her and saw her eyes filled with turmoil.

  "Hon, listen don't cut me out. I'm on your side. But cut me a little slack that's all I'm asking. You are the woman I love. And I won't let you shut me out forever. I see you once every three months. No phone conversations, random emails. And when I do see you, we remain inside making little effort to talk about what we need to discuss. I know something terrible happened all those years ago when they arrested you, I was there too ... but you need to talk to me or to someone. Just please, spill it out. Tell me what happened. I’m begging you."

  Looking up, all Cathy saw was pain. As tears welled up in two pairs of eyes, she put her arms around his neck and pulled him towards her, holding on for dear life.

  "I'm so sorry. Hold me, please. They said anyone who knows will be dealt with. And I ..."

  "Shush, I didn't mean to push. I'm tired and hungry. Maybe some food might set the mood straight? Tom Tom's breakfast special."

  They separated but Cathy continued to lean on his shoulder. They made their way into the vi
lla's kitchenette. When Thomas started to ransack the fridge, she slowly sat herself at the counter and watched him. She wondered how life was so simple and yet so complicated, all at the same time. They had grown up in the same neighbourhood. Their families had been friends even before their births and the two lovers were born one day apart. From cycling to gawky high school pictures, they had been like two peas in a pod. Then twelve years ago, everything changed.

  She had decided to put an end to a family secret she could no longer keep. He had come to her rescue in more ways than one and a childhood friendship grew into an adult romance filled with twists and turns far worse than a climb up Mount Everest.

  Cathy clasped her hands together and slowly started, "They said I am free, as long as I keep doing what they want. But the day I say no or I screw up, they will have me thrown back into my cell. And on some days, I think that is where I deserve to be. After all, I have his blood on my hands."

  Thomas glanced up from the eggs he was beating.

  "Yea, so you supposedly killed the animal who forgot what it was to protect his own. He shared you with his friends while telling the world he was God's answer to mankind."

  With sorrow, he saw her face twisted with pain as he felt the colour in his cheeks rising.

  "I'm sorry but I just don't understand it. Even after all this time ... How did nobody see it or realise what was happening? You were just a child, we both were."

  The eggs in the bowl were on their way to becoming the most well-beaten anyone would ever see as Thomas lashed out his fury at the past.

  Vividly, he remembered that night, twelve years ago when she had shown up at his house, t-shirt drenched in blood, knife in hand. In a week's time they were to have celebrated their fifteenth birthdays but at that moment he had not seen the girl he grew up with. What he witnessed that day was a woman thrown towards desperation, lost between love and hate. His parents had sent him to his room. A long silence and loud whispers had followed before the sound of police sirens broke into the night.

  Her mother had been away on one of her many world saving crusades. Cathy could no longer take her father's abuse. He had repeatedly forced himself on her on other occasions and when he had shown up at her bed that night, she had supposedly stabbed him straight through his chest. It did not matter that he had accosted his daughter since she was six or even that he had allowed his friends to use her.

  All the legal system had seen was a deranged teenager who had killed her father. To make matters worse, they were foreigners who lived in a country that did not look too kindly on "children who planned to kill their parents". His parents, also foreigners, had found it exceedingly difficult to get Cathy any kind of help. For more than seven years, they knew close to nothing of what had happened to her.

  Thomas' letters to her were returned, unopened and he was never allowed to visit. Prison officials claimed it was high security. He sensed something else was going on and it terrified him. But without proof and given the assurance that she was alive and well, there was little he could do.

  Eventually, his parents moved away to seek solace from their retirement. He could not bring himself to leave, in the hopes that a time would come when he would have the answers he needed to the night that had changed both their lives. And more than anything, he would see her again. And then one day, it happened.

  Late one night, as he made his way home from work he instantly recognised the familiar tumble of red hair, standing in his doorway.

  She had aged more than she was supposed to and looked like all the energy in her had been drained out, yet there appeared to be a sense of renewed strength that nothing would be able to stand in her way. Her eyes had appeared fiery as she hugged him. Her embrace had been longing. All those years, he had ached for her too.

  He remembered asking her so many questions and she had told him they "had reached a deal". She had said very little else, other than the fact that part of the deal was a name change, a job within the popular hotel chain MoonStar and that they would check up on her occasionally.

  Just the mere sight of her was one he never wanted to lose again. Falling in love was never difficult with Cathy and he knew, healing would be a long journey but one he would gladly take with her and so here they were ...

  Cathy, doing her best to find the words to speak without reliving her past as he absorbed her attempts to overcome her fears. He fell in love with her all over again and more, if that was even possible.

  STOCKHOLM, SWEDEN

  December 2007

  The largest city of Sweden is often referred to as "Venice of the North". This is one of the many titles given to Stockholm. Its unique landscape consists of fourteen islands at the mouth of Sweden's Lake Maelara and the Baltic Sea. In recent years, it has gained international recognition for its economic growth and architectural development. The annual Stockholm Marathon is known as "the best marathon in the world". Stockholm is also ranked as one of the three most honest cities in the world.

  It is one of the first few cities in the world to have been awarded for its "green" efforts towards environmentally friendly living areas and methods. More than 35% of the city consists of park and lush green areas while another 30% is made up of waterways. The government continues to stress that all efforts will be made to steer clear of heavy industries to enable further advancement with the city's green efforts.

  With history that dates back as far as 1250, Stockholm is rich in culture, literature, music, performing arts and annual festivals. In 1634, Stockholm was declared the official capital of the Swedish Empire and still holds on to this title with the royal family of Sweden currently residing in the Drottningholm Palace. It is also home to the world's oldest military training centre built in 1790. This facility has remained in the same location ever since.

  With more than eight million tourists in the city centre annually, a large part of Stockholm's population plays an active role in tourism and the service industry. As many as ten Michelin star restaurants thrive in Stockholm. Every street is peppered with a variety of eateries which serve a range of local and international flavours such as French, Italian, Greek, Middle Eastern, Asian. Fast food restaurants, bars and coffee spots are also popular haunts for locals and tourists.

  Christmas was barely three weeks away and the streets were decked with colourful decorations. But Yuletide joy was the last thing on Cathy's mind as she stepped into the crowded lobby of MoonStar Stockholm. Even if no Christmas decorations dotted the place, she hardly recognised the chic interior she remembered from her training days.

  Today it was filled with reporters, curious onlookers, MoonStar associates of various rankings and could have been likened to a zoo. Three days earlier, this was the MoonStar property on every news channel known to man.

  Well-known American business mogul Ross Morrison aged forty-eight years old was a household name in Europe, for creating the multi-billion dollar mobile communications company, Roamy Inc. Even after being in business for more than ten years, it still held a worldwide market share of at least 32%. This made it the second biggest mobile communications player next to Apple and Nokia.

  If Roamy Inc. had not provided him with a lavish lifestyle, his other businesses more than made up for it. Morrison was also well known for his musical ventures, be it with singers, bands or in the theatre. His wife of more than ten years had carved a name for herself by being behind one of the more popular fashion labels for teenagers, Impulsations.

  But disaster had slowly weaved into their lives a few nights earlier. It was alleged that Morrison spent the night with a social escort at MoonStar Stockholm. He had a driver pick her up from her apartment, they went for dinner, headed off to a popular local bar, staggered back to his hotel suite and had consensual sex or so he claimed. Her version differed from the point when she helped him up to his room and was to take a cab home but he had forced himself on her.

  Needless to say, things took a dramatic turn when she ran out of the suite screaming and into the lob
by dressed in nothing but a bed sheet. Morrison was subsequently arrested and charged before he could leave the country but it would take weeks before the media attention died down. It was early December now and Christmas holidays or not, this would be an added buzz in all gossip columns dragging MoonStar Stockholm in its wake.

  Although the property had one of the best public relations teams of all the European MoonStar properties, they had called Corporate Office to ask for more assistance. This was beyond standard operating procedures and keeping the media at bay was a losing battle not to mention the few stragglers of associates who sought their shot at stardom by issuing unauthorised comments to the media. All in, it was a circus and Cathy realised it would be a day or two before she got a good night's sleep, jet-lagged or not.

 

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