by Mandy Baggot
‘Sadie Fox would never be able to get hold of enough material to dress me. She’s used to dressing models with stomachs as flat as ironing boards and personalities to match. Hello!’ Freya greeted, pressing the button to speak into the intercom.
‘Hello, Freya this is Brian. Are you receiving me? Over.’
‘Brian? What are you doing here? I thought you were Amos.’
‘Today I am Amos. Over. I have the mail. Repeat. I have the mail. Over.’
‘Oh, OK. I’m buzzing you in. Come up to the house. Over.’ She pressed the button to open the front gate.
‘Brian?’ Nicholas questioned, putting the breakfast plates on the countertop.
‘Yes and he has the mail. Over.’ She headed to the front door.
She opened it up and Brian, dressed in a postman’s uniform, hurried up the driveway towards the house.
‘Good morning, Nick. Good morning, Freya. Over.’ Brian walked up the steps and onto the front porch.
‘You don’t have to say over now, Brian. We’re not on the intercom, we’re right here,’ Freya said, smiling.
‘Sorry. Right, here is your mail.’ He dug into the sack across his shoulder and pulled out two large packets and two smaller letters.
‘Gimme! Gimme!” Freya ordered. She snatched the large packets from Brian’s hands and ran back into the house.
‘One of those was for you,’ Brian informed Nicholas, handing him the smaller letters.
‘Thanks, Brian. Freya’s a little over excited about wedding dresses.’
‘I heard about that. Tell me, is her father really dead?’ He adjusted his hat.
‘Sorry?’
‘It’s on the front page of The Gazette this morning. Here, I’ve got a copy with me, and I’m sure I heard something about it on the news too. Although, I was eating at the time and my hearing’s not quite as good when I’m eating as it is when I’m not.’ He produced the newspaper from the mail sack.
Nicholas took hold of the paper and read the headline. ‘Freya Fuels Father Feud’. He looked at the photograph. It was one of the publicity shots from their hospital visit the previous day.
‘Brian, can I keep this?’ Nicholas asked him, folding the paper up.
‘It was seventy five cents.’
‘I’ll shout you a meal at Casey’s the next time you’re there.’
‘Three courses? With drinks and sides?’
‘Whatever you want. I promise.’
‘Sure, keep the paper.’
She licked her lips as she looked at the dresses in the catalogue. She’d bypassed the frills and the lace and was gazing at heavenly creations she might be able to get a dual use from. Some of Nicholas’ film parties needed glamour. She heard him come back into the room.
‘Don’t come any closer. I’ve seen a couple of frocks I like and I do not want you getting even a peek at any of them.’ She picked up the brochure and held it against her chest.
‘You might want to look at this.’ He put the newspaper down in front of her.
She looked at the headline and then read out loud.
‘Nicholas Kaden and fiancée Freya Johnson, visited Carlton General Hospital yesterday to unveil the facility’s new scanning equipment paid for by the Nicholas Kaden Foundation. During the visit they met with patients of the cancer ward, most of whom have limited life expectancy. One such young patient, who cannot be named, was heard asking Miss Johnson about her upcoming nuptials and in particular whether her father, billionaire business tycoon Eric Lawson-Peck, would be attending the ceremony. A source claims Miss Johnson seemed particularly uncomfortable when asked about her father and ultimately informed the patient her father was dead. Eric Lawson-Peck, alive and well, attended a reception in New York last night where he refused to comment. Last year, Freya Johnson’s ex-partner, Russell Buchanan, claimed Miss Johnson had been abused by her father throughout her childhood and made countless accusations of improper conduct relating to both his personal and business life. These claims were strongly refuted by Lawson-Peck and Miss Johnson issued an apology. Shit!’
‘Good, huh?’
‘I don’t understand. How the hell did they get hold of this? I mean, they’ve misquoted me to start with. I didn’t actually say it like that and I didn’t blurt it across the ward. I said it to Katherine and you were the only one there. She’s a kid and from the look of her yesterday she was in no state to give interviews to The Gazette,’ Freya exclaimed.
This was bad. Anything with her father involved was bad but this, telling the world he was dead! Nothing good was going to come out of that. How stupid was she? Why had she said it? She didn’t think. That had always been her trouble and now she was neck deep in just that.
‘Well, I don’t know how they got hold of it but they did and they printed it. Brian also said he heard something about it on the news this morning.’
‘Oh my God. What am I going to do?’ She put her hand to her chest as the breath caught there.
‘Look, calm down. Let’s think rationally about this.’
‘Think rationally?! How can I think rationally? My father’s going to take one look at this and think I wanted it. The paper’s already asked him about it and he refused to comment. What does that say?’
‘It says he knows how to handle the media and he’ll let his press agent take care of it.’
‘Oh no, no. You don’t know my father like I do. He won’t be letting anyone else handle this. He’ll be handling it himself. If there’s one thing I know about my father, it’s that he doesn’t mind getting his hands dirty.’
‘Freya, calm down. What d’you think’s going to happen?’
‘What’s going to happen is what always happens. He’s going to punish me.’ She felt the tears brimming in her eyes.
‘That isn’t going to happen. Come here, come on.’ He pulled her into his arms. ‘It’s not so bad. I mean you said he was dead. It was an off-the-cuff remark. It didn’t mean anything.’
His words did nothing to comfort her. She knew the man. She knew how he operated.
‘He won’t like it. It won’t be acceptable, for me to speak out like that, off-the-cuff remark or not. I’ve put him in the papers and brought everything all back up again. He’s going to do something about it, Nick. He’s going to hurt you or me, or Emma. Oh God! What if he hurts Melly?’ Her voice came out as a shriek and the tears fell.
‘Listen, that isn’t going to happen. I mean, read the article again. It’s just rubbish. So, someone overheard you say your father’s dead? What’s that really going to mean to him? You aren’t part of his life anymore. To you he is dead,’ he reminded.
‘He just won’t like it, Nick. He’ll feel insulted and people will be looking at him wondering why he isn’t going to his only child’s wedding. Then the rumours will start and people will start asking questions again about all the things Russell told Shooting Stars magazine,’ Freya told him.
‘The truth, you mean.’
‘Yes, the truth. But dealing the truth was too much of a price to pay and it was over. But now? God, why can’t I keep my big mouth shut?’ She wiped at her eyes, then put her fingers in her mouth to chew the nails.
‘Come on, babe, it’s going to be fine. Look, if you’re really worried let me sort it out. I’ll get Sandra on to it. We’ll issue a statement telling everyone you were misquoted and we’ll cut this off before it has a chance to do any damage, to us or your father,’ he said, running a hand through Freya’s hair.
‘It’s too late, it’s done and he won’t let it go again.’ Her voice was trembling now. That’s what that man did to her, terrified her. All the happiness and excitement she felt earlier about her wedding and choosing a dress had all but evaporated.
The phone rang.
‘That’ll be the start of it. That will be a reporter,’ Freya stated, letting go of Nicholas and going back over to the newspaper.
‘No it won’t. Hello,’ he greeted.
Freya looked again at the photograph on th
e front page of the paper and racked her brain as to who would have overheard her comment about her father.
‘Yeah she’s here. No, that’s OK, I’ll just pass you over.’ He held the handset out. ‘It’s Sasha.’
She took the phone and he put a strong arm around her, kissing her cheek.
‘Listen, I’m going to grab a shower. Don’t worry about it, OK? I’ll deal with it, I promise.’ He squeezed her free hand. ‘Oh and these letters are for you too. One of them looks like it’s from a shopping channel.’ He passed her the rest of her mail and left the kitchen.
She put the phone to her ear and raised her shoulder to keep it in place as she opened the first letter.
‘Hello, Sasha. Is the office on fire?’
‘No. Sorry to call you at home again but I’ve had journalists calling already this morning asking about your father. I just wondered what, if anything, you wanted me to say.’
‘Nothing, Sasha, just say nothing. I know that’s something I usually can’t manage but I’m sure you’re far more adept at it.’ She let out a sigh and took the letter from the envelope.
‘You don’t sound surprised they’ve been calling. Has something happened? Is everything OK?’
‘I’m headline news again. That’s what’s happened. Good photograph but terrible article.’ She looked at the letter in her hands and couldn’t stop herself from reacting. ‘Oh my God!’
‘Freya? Are you OK?’
Freya stared at the letter. There was one word stuck onto the piece of paper, made out of newspaper cuttings.
Bitch
Freya stared at the word, then turned the piece of paper over to look at the reverse side. It was blank.
‘Freya? Are you still there?’
‘Sorry, Sasha, I’m still here.’ She folded up the paper and slipped it into the pocket of her robe.
‘So, what shall I tell the journalists?’
‘Nothing. Say I have no comment to make. Listen, I probably won’t be in this morning. What’s in the diary?’ She picked up The Gazette.
‘Diana Farrington at ten. Miles Blake at eleven thirty and Jonathan Sanders at one.’
‘Right, well postpone Diana. Do you think you could see Miles? I’ll make it for one.’
‘No problem. Freya, are you sure everything’s OK?’
‘I’m fine, honestly. I’ll see you later.’
She ended the call and put the phone down on the countertop. One shaky breath later and she felt like passing out. It was starting all over again.
Fifteen
‘I don’t want to wait.’
It was almost one and she was travelling to Carlton with Nicholas. That morning, after the news about her father and the hate mail, she had walked into Mayleaf, bought a hair colour and spent the rest of the time dying it dark brown.
‘Jeez! Will you look at this traffic? What is going on?’ He pulled into the queue of cars waiting to go the same way.
‘Nick, I don’t want to wait to get married.’ She put her hand on his leg, trying to get his attention.
‘What d’you mean?’ He turned to look at her.
‘Twenty second of December, it’s too far away. I don’t want to wait that long.’
‘Are you kidding me? It’s next month!’
‘I know, but it’s the end of next month and what’s the point of waiting? I mean we love each other, right? And we don’t need anyone else there really. And if we just went off and did it without telling anyone then the press wouldn’t be hassling us and we’d have the quiet wedding we want.’ The words flew out of her mouth at top speed.
‘But yesterday you really wanted to get married on Corfu. You were excited about that and I don’t believe you really want to have your special day without Emma there.’
‘I just want to marry you and you said it didn’t matter how we did it. You said it was the commitment that’s important and I agree.’
‘This is just a reaction to the newspaper article. Freya, I know it’s got to you and I understand why, but it will be alright, you know. Primarily, your father is a businessman and I really don’t believe he would let a news feature, as pathetic and pointless as that one, stir him up.’
‘It isn’t anything to do with the article. It really isn’t. I love you, Nick. I just want to get married. Don’t you want to do it? We could just go off somewhere and get married and spend our honeymoon driving round the country on the Harley. We could stay at cheap motels, drink beer and eat junk food,’ she suggested.
It was sounding good and she had kept the desperation out of her voice.
‘We can still spend our honeymoon doing that if that’s what you want.’
‘Why don’t we just get a flight to Vegas on Friday night and just do it?’
‘Because I don’t believe that’s what you want. What about the dress you were planning?’
‘I’ve got plenty of dresses. Well, maybe one or two.’
‘Freya, come on, this isn’t right. I want our wedding day to be something we remember for years and years to come. I like the idea of going back to Corfu.’
‘Yes, me too. I really did. But do you know what? The weather forecast is horrendous. They’re talking snow and thunder storms. The works.’
‘I don’t believe you.’
She let out a sigh and turned to look out of the passenger window.
‘December twenty second isn’t that far away you know. Why don’t I make some calls today and see if I can arrange a few things. Maybe you could speak to Emma and let her know we’ll be seeing her soon.’
‘Yeah, OK.’
There was no enthusiasm in her voice at all. Everything felt bleak now that newspaper article was in the public domain.
‘Look, I promised I would sort things out with the newspaper and your father. Trust me, Freya, I won’t let him hurt you again.’
‘It isn’t me I’m worried about.’
‘Well, I can look after myself and I have Roger. But if it’s Emma you’re worried about, I can arrange someone to be with her and Yiannis. But I really think it’s jumping the gun. Besides, if we really thought your father was going to start hurting people, I’d want to be talking to the police about it.’
‘Could you arrange it so she wouldn’t know?’
‘Freya, are you serious about this? You really think your father would try to hurt Emma?’
‘Yes, I keep telling you. You have no idea what he’s capable of.’
‘I just think that, given the situation between you, he can’t really make an issue about you telling someone he isn’t coming to our wedding,’ Nicholas said.
‘Perhaps I should invite him.’
That thought made her more alert. That might be a way to get out of all this. She would contact him. She would invite him to the wedding. He might not come. If he did come, she wouldn’t have to spend any time with him. And then it would be over. Her duty would be done and public opinion would be settled.
‘What?! That wasn’t a serious comment was it?’
‘Well, it would be a sure fire way to settle things down. It would make the media think there was no feud and whoever sold this story to The Gazette wasn’t a credible source. In that case, maybe we should have a huge wedding and get as much publicity as possible.’
‘Freya! Stop this right now. For one, that isn’t the wedding we want and secondly, if you think I’m going to have your father at our wedding, then maybe you’re marrying the wrong man.’ He focused back on the traffic.
‘I don’t want him at our wedding and for what it’s worth I wish he really was dead. But I’m just trying to think of ways to stop this in its tracks. Because you know what the press are like. They will pick and dig and ferret around and they won’t stop.’
The tears were there again. Filling up her eyes, giving her clouded vision.
‘Freya, you have to trust me. I will sort this out. But until I do, would you really like me to get someone to keep an eye on Emma and Yiannis?’
‘Yes, I really woul
d.’
‘Then I’ll arrange it. I’ll get someone over there today and I’ll make sure all the security systems at the villa are checked. OK?’ he asked her.
She nodded.
‘Now, I don’t want you worrying anymore about that damn newspaper article. What I do want you worrying about is wedding dresses, invitations and catering in Corfu.’
She nodded again and smiled, wiping her eyes with her hands.
‘By the way,’ he said pulling the car away as traffic began to move. ‘I love your hair that colour.’
Sixteen
When they arrived at Exposure there was a hoard of photographers outside the gate. They started to shout and take pictures as soon as they set eyes on the Ferrari. Once through the gates and inside the car park, Freya noticed Jonathan’s car was already there.
‘Well, I suppose the press pack would be here. I expect I’m all over CNN.’ She let out a heavy sigh.
‘Just ignore them or say no comment. There isn’t much they can do with that.’
‘Apart from thinking I’m a moody cow.’
‘Which they should already know by now.’
‘Hey!’ She hit his arm playfully.
‘Listen, I’ve got to go. I’m late for my meeting and you know what Sandra’s like about schedules.’
‘Sure, you go. Pick me up about five?’
‘Five it is. Hey, do you fancy going downtown tonight? Playing a little roulette? Visiting a few bars?’
‘Stopping at the all-you-can-eat for twenty dollars restaurant?’
‘Naturally.’
‘That sounds great. Oh bugger, where’s my handbag?’ She looked around the footwell.
‘Did you have it when you left home?’
‘I don’t know, maybe not. I was in such a hurry I probably left it there. Don’t worry, it just has my mobile in it and I’m sure I can do without that for a day. Well perhaps not, but I’ll deal with it. You go, I don’t want to make you later than you already are.’
As she went to step out of the car, Jonathan appeared at the entrance to the office and came out to greet her.
‘Hi. New hair colour. I like it. Here, let me help you.’ He took her hand and helped her get out of the low car.