by Tiana Cole
“Oh, Madison,” Cassie said with genuine concern in her voice.
“I know,” Madison said miserably. “Time to gloat, right?”
“No way,” Cassie shook her head fiercely, and the sincerity shining in her eyes touched Madison deeply. “I know what it means to follow your heart. I hope it works out for you, I really do.”
On impulse, Madison reached out and gave the other woman a hug. After all Madison had said to Cassie about messing with a married man, she had turned out to be a true friend.
“Thanks, Cassie. It means a lot to me.” Madison gave a half smile, throwing a small wave behind her and began to hurry away.
“If you need anything...” Cassie called after her. But Madison didn’t turn back. She was desperate to get out of there, to get home. She felt like there were eyes watching her everywhere and most of all, she needed to hear Christopher’s voice.
As the thought occurred to her, Madison couldn't understand why Christopher hadn't called her the second he saw the papers. Where was he? She pulled her cell out of her purse. She had about ten missed calls from him. She realized she had her phone on silent during the night and hadn't even checked it in the morning.
She got to the bus stop and sent him a text.
I've only just seen the missed calls and papers. I'm so sorry. I don't know why this is happening. On my way home. X
The bus pulled to a squeaky stop at the kiosk just across the street from her home, and her heart dropped at the sight of the small crowd—all with cameras and video equipment. It was like a scene out of a movie.
Madison wished desperately that her building had a back entrance, but she knew she would have to wade through them to get inside. Taking a deep breath and hoping they wouldn’t recognize her, she drew the hood of her jacket up as far as she could before striding forward determinedly.
When Madison got to her apartment, she had to walk closer to a group of photographers outside. She was halfway through when a gust of wind knocked her hood back and they all seemed to turn toward her at once. She elbowed her way into the building amidst the stream of loud questions the reporters threw at her.
“How long have you been having an affair with Christopher Knight?”
“Were you looking after Ailsa when she was rushed into hospital yesterday?”
“How could you do this to her, Miss Browne?”
Madison ran all the way up to her apartment and locked the door, her breath bellowing out of her like a furnace. The caretaker prevented any of the reporters from entering the building, but she looked outside her window and she could see them there, still hovering. One cameraman angled this camera up to her window, so she pulled the drapes and ran to the sofa, curling her legs under her body. It was a nightmare outside, and inside, her thoughts and emotions were just as tangled and jarring as she tried to make sense of what was happening.
This wasn’t her world. Reporters sneaking photos of them in restaurants and photographers and tabloids haunting her home.
She got her cell phone out to see if Christopher had replied. He hadn't. She sent another text, saying that the press were outside the building and for him not to come. Still he did not answer. She knew she shouldn't call him as they were probably all still at Baverstock Mansion. She decided to wait until she heard from Christopher. It must be hell where he is, she thought. All she could do was wait.
That morning, over at the Baverstock's, Ailsa had stayed in bed, still recovering from her scare at the hospital, and didn't want breakfast, but she insisted Christopher go down to the dining room to join her parents. As soon as Christopher opened the dining room door, he was met by the ice-cold glare of his father-in-law, who held the newspaper crushed in his large hand.
Jack Baverstock leapt from his chair, his face beet red with temper.
“I'm hoping you've got some sort of an explanation of this?” He shook the newspaper at Christopher. His eyes were bulging from his head, just like the vein popping from his neck over the tight collar of his shirt.
“May I see?” Christopher asked calmly. He had no idea what had gotten into Jack Baverstock.
His father-in-law handed him the newspaper, well, more like threw it at him, but Christopher caught it against his chest and shook it out. Christopher unraveled the crumpled sheets, his eyes on Jack Baverstock. Then he looked down and saw the pictures. He read a few of the lines, dread suffusing him at the words, the images from the diner, and looked over at his mother-in-law.
“Stella, I...” he began, not even really knowing what to say. How to explain. Mrs. Baverstock looked away, her grey eyes, so much like her daughters wide and sad as she stared blankly at the window, but Jack Baverstock was fuming, his hands clenched together so tightly that his nails dug into his hands.
“Stella, go upstairs and bring your daughter down here,” Baverstock said through gritted teeth. Stella rose slowly and could barely look at Christopher as she left.
“Come with me!” Baverstock led Christopher to the living room and sat down in a high-backed armchair. He crossed his legs and gripped the arm rests. Christopher briefly wondered if the older man was going to have a heart attack, then reprimanded himself. He needed to stay focused on what was happening. He needed to make sure that it ended up alright for all of them.
“Mr. Baverstock,” Christopher said, standing in the middle of the room. “I can explain this. If you'd just calm down and—”
“Don't tell me to calm down.” Mr. Baverstock's voice was like a rumble of thunder. “This is my daughter we're talking about. The one who was rushed into hospital only last night. The one carrying your baby, for Christ's sake.”
“Daddy!” Ailsa rushed into the room and sat next to her father. “Don't be angry with Christopher. It's not his fault.”
“Oh, you want to blame the nurse, do you? Ailsa don't be so naïve,” her father shouted in her face. “You're pregnant. He can't go around straying like that...and so publicly?”
“So would it be all right if he had a secret affair, Jack?” Stella said softly, but he ignored her statement. She had walked in quietly behind her daughter and sat on the sofa. She glared at her husband.
“Don't you care what happens to your daughter?” Jack blasted at her. “What the hell did you teach her when she was growing up?”
“Me!” Stella said, her voice now raised in outrage as her glare heated.
“Stop it, both of you,” Ailsa interrupted. She got up and walked over to Christopher.
“Ailsa,” Christopher said. “I don't know how...I'm so, so sorry.”
Ailsa shushed him and placed her delicate fingers on his lips. Mr. Baverstock jumped from his chair.
“That's it? Your husband is sleeping with a nurse and you comfort him?” Mr. Baverstock's cheeks were flaming red. “He has a responsibility to you. He's the father of your child,” he shouted.
“No, he isn't!” Ailsa swung around to face her father. “He isn't, so just leave him alone.”
Ailsa's proclamation silenced the whole room. Christopher was the first to speak.
“You don't mean that, Ailsa. You're upset...”
“Yes, I'm upset,” Ailsa said, tears in her eyes. “I'm sick of the way he gets to treat everyone so terribly. If you must know – Daddy – Christopher didn't get me pregnant. It was some guy I met while traveling. He wears black leather and rides a Harley. We rode around on it for most of the summer. And you know what? I loved him and he loved me, and I made him leave me because of you! And I asked Christopher to marry me and pretend the baby was his. All because of you.”
Her father was stunned into silence.
“Well, aren't you going to say something?” she said, panting.
“Why?” her father muttered. “Why did you lie?”
“Because I was afraid of you. We all were. Me, mother, Jack Junior. What happened to Jack, father? Where is he? I was afraid that whatever happened to him would happen to me, but I wanted to keep the baby above everything. I wanted to keep him safe.” She place
d her hands protectively across her belly, cradling her unborn child as if she could protect him that way. Christopher walked up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulder’s trying to comfort her, to make the terrible situation any easier.
“Ailsa, what happened to your brother was an accident.” Her father broke away. He walked to the window. He shrugged his shoulders, as if he were crying.
“Go,” Baverstock said to them. No one moved. “Go!” he spun around. “Get out of here, all of you. I need to think. I need to make things better. I need this piece of news to disappear. I need to think, dammit, now go!”
“Daddy, what are you planning?” Ailsa said, an edge of fear still present in her voice as she turned toward her father, rushing to him.
He pointed to the door. “I'll make this right,” he said to his daughter. “Right now, I need time to work out how. I'll call you all back when I know what it is I need to do to make this all go away.”
Slowly, one by one, they filed out of the silent, tension-filled room. First Mrs. Baverstock, then Christopher, then finally Ailsa, with one long last look cast over her delicate shoulder at her father who was still staring moodily out of the window. He hadn’t looked at any of them as they left.
Back up in their room, Ailsa and Christopher sat silently until Ailsa gave in to the tears that had threatened the entire awful confrontation, not helped by the pregnancy hormones that were running amuck with her emotions.
“What do you think he'll do?” Christopher asked her as she finally began to calm down, her sobs lessoning into occasional hiccups as she sat on the edge of the big bed.
“I'm worried,” The words were husky from crying, and a new set of tears began to stream down her face. “I'm worried he might try to harm Madison.”
Christopher went into a panic then and immediately reached for his cell phone to call her. It rang several times before it went to her voicemail. He called time after time, but she did not pick up. He wondered if she'd seen the paper and was afraid. He needed to speak to Madison. And he needed to speak to her right away. Underneath the fear, his heart was screaming at him to see her, to make sure she was okay.
“I should go to her,” he said.
“No.” Ailsa grabbed his hand. “Don't leave me here on my own with him. Just wait until he's come to a decision. Madison might worry if you go to her like this. There might still be a way to get over this. Just wait, you might be able to go to her with good news.”
“All right,” Christopher acquiesced as he tried to dial her number once more. Again, it rang repeatedly before going to voicemail. He hoped desperately that she was all right. He tossed his cell aside. It landed on the bed and he forgot all about it while he paced up and down, wondering what on Earth Jack Baverstock had in mind for them.
Chapter 11
Outside her window, Madison noticed the press had all left. They had been there for hours, and it was almost evening. They must have become bored or hungry. This was her chance to make a break for it. But where would she run to? She still had not heard from Christopher, and she was beginning to wonder if Baverstock had done something to him. She remembered what he'd said about Ailsa's older brother, Jack Junior, whom no one had seen since his disappearance.
Suddenly her cell rang. She grabbed at it.
“Christopher?” she said, without checking the caller ID first.
“No, it's Amanda.”
“Oh Amanda, I'm sorry.”
“How are you?”
“Not great.”
“Well, this might cheer you up,” Amanda says. “There's a job for you, guaranteed, at St. James's Hospital.”
“Really? Amanda, thank you. That's so amazing! You have no idea what a relief this is.”
“Think nothing of it. Just a friend helping out a friend. All you need to do is give Sarah Bishop a call in the morning, and she'll tell you all about it. You should be able to start next week. I'll use this week as your notice period.”
Madison's sniffles could be heard over the phone line, and she could not speak.
“We'll miss you, Madison.”
“I'll miss all of you, too. And I'm so sorry about all of this.”
“Good luck, Madison, and keep in touch.”
“I will.”
As soon as she hung up, there was a light tap on the door. Madison looked at the door, wondering if it might be the superintendent telling her that the reporters had gone. She opened the door and saw Christopher standing there, his face haggard and his eyes weary and full of sadness. With a cry, she rushed into his arms.
“Oh Christopher,” she breathed. “I'm so sorry. So, so sorry. Come in.” Her shoulders began to relax as she led him to the sofa, not yet noticing that he hadn't said a word.
“What happened at the mansion today?” she went on as she grabbed a wine glass from the cabinet above the sink. “Is Ailsa upset? I bet her parents are mad. What will he do to her? What's...?”
She noticed for the first time that Christopher's eyes were bloodshot. There were dark circles under them and his face was pale.
“Christopher?”
She immediately rushed over to him, and as soon as she neared it was if his entire body crumbled in front of her. His shoulders drooped and he heaved a great, sad sigh that sent a sense of foreboding flooding through her.
He sat forward and put his face into his hands. She put her hand on his thigh and waited. Eventually, looking down at the floor, Christopher took Madison's hands in both of his.
“Why do I get the feeling I'm not going to like what you have to say, Christopher?”
He looked into her eyes. “Madison, if it could be any other way, I swear to you, I'd do it. But I don't have a choice in this.”
“A choice in what? What is it, Christopher? Now I really am afraid.”
“This morning, I came downstairs, saw Jack Baverstock's face, and my heart sank. He showed me the pictures and all I could think was that I'd blown it. It was all my fault they'd found us out.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I should have known the press would still be sniffing around. They weren't satisfied with the fact that Ailsa wasn't losing the baby. That would have been the big news in the paper today. But it wasn't good enough for them that she was coming home and everything was okay.”
“So you think the guy who took the pictures was stalking you? Isn't there a law against that? Can't we have him fired from his job?”
“No, of course we can't,” Christopher said and sighed loudly. “He was doing his job. I was the one who wasn't.” He got up and walked to the window.
“What's that supposed to mean? You were doing your job just fine.”
“Not properly.” He turned to face her. “See, Madison. I made Ailsa a promise a long time ago. Back when she told me about the baby.”
“Yes I know all that,” Madison said hurriedly.
“But my promise was that no matter what happened, I would stick by her and I'd claim the baby as mine. Remember? And when we separated, I was the one who should come out as the bad guy and Ailsa's reputation and, therefore, her familys’ would be intact.”
“But you don't have to stay with her now. Not now that her father knows the truth.”
“But what the press think is today's truth is all going to change by tomorrow. You see, her father has enough influence to make his own version of the truth. By tomorrow morning The Post would have retracted the story. All the allegations of our so-called affair will be wiped away, and all the papers will be pointing a finger at The Post for trying to ruin Baverstock's chances of becoming governor. It'll all be down to politics. Not an affair at all.”
“So isn't that a good thing?” Madison asked. “That way, everyone believes you were innocent...that you and I didn't have an affair, and that you still love Ailsa.”
“Something like that.”
“Well, is it or isn't it? Am I going to see the story in the paper saying it was all false?”
“Yes. The story will be in
all the papers, Madison. It will say that you are a close friend of Ailsa's, that you knew her from the past, and that I was just telling you that she was fine.”
“And...?”
He looked at her.
“You don't look happy about this, Christopher. What else is there to this story?”
“In the first place, you need to make yourself invisible. The family is willing to write you a check. You can go anywhere, do anything you want to do.”
Madison sat back against the sofa and swallowed hard as what he was saying to her hit hard. “Anything I want to do except for see you?”
He walked around to the back of the sofa as if he couldn't look at her. He didn’t say a single word, and the silence grew and grew around them until it was like a living thing. But he didn’t have to. She knew what he was saying to her. She understood. And her heart was breaking once again.
“That's it?” she said. “We have to stop seeing each other. But how does that work? If I'm supposed to be Ailsa's friend, why do I need to leave?”
“Because if you're not around, people forget. Ailsa and I can get back to our arrangement.”
“But I won't see you again.” She swung around to face him. “And you accept this? You don't want to see me anymore? Is that what you want?”
He came and sat on the sofa, but as far apart from her as the sofa would allow.
“There's more to it than that, Madison. I told you before, Jack Baverstock is a very powerful man. He has so many contacts you really don't know where you stand with him.”
She flicked her eyes in Christopher's direction. “What has he threatened you with? He can't make you disappear. You're married to his daughter. And I take it he wants the world to think that you and she are just fine and it's happy families all around.”
Christopher nodded.
“And you're going to just sit back and take it?”