Public Property

by Mandy Baggot

  ‘Oh there’s nothing happening here this time of year. The holiday season doesn’t kick in until May, so everything is quiet…and not so warm.’

  ‘Don’t talk to me about warm. I moved to America to catch some rays and they’re talking about snow here next week! Snow! I know it’s November but snow?!’

  ‘I’d love to see snow.’

  ‘The wind here would kill you. Anyway, how’s everyone? How are Mr and Mrs P?’

  Mr and Mrs Petroholis were Emma’s parents in law. They were good, honest people who thought the world of Freya.

  ‘Everyone’s fine. Why do I get the impression you’re hiding something from me?’

  ‘What? No, I’m not. I just want to try and focus on something else other than what’s going on here. Tell me about the building work with your house. Are those Greek builders still on schedule?’

  Emma wouldn’t give up until she’d confessed everything. She couldn’t tell her about Nicholas meeting her father. The less people knew about that the better.

  ‘Freya.’

  ‘Alright, alright, I’ve been in hospital. I passed out at the casino when I found out about Mike.’

  She took another bite of cheese.

  ‘I knew it. It’s those dizzy spells you used to get because of your father wasn’t it?’

  ‘I guess. I think it freaked Nick out a bit. Apparently I did the whole rolling eyes, white sweaty face, collapsing on the floor thing.’

  ‘What did the doctor say?’

  ‘He said I’m pregnant.’ She laughed.

  ‘What?!’

  ‘Oh apparently they did some obviously flawed blood test and it showed up something or other. I told him, there is no way I can be pregnant.’

  ‘Freya, what are you saying? The doctor told you you’re pregnant and you don’t believe him?’

  ‘Of course I don’t believe him. What I think happened is that they mixed up my results with some other poor woman. She could be going out and getting drunk right now with no knowledge of her unborn child.’

  ‘Well, what did the doctor say when you told him you didn’t think you were pregnant?’

  ‘Oh he said something about a scan to check, but I wasn’t having that. I mean, I’d just woken up from some horrible debilitating sedative they’d given me and I just wanted to get out of there.’

  ‘Freya, I think you have to go back to the hospital and have a scan. Doctors don’t tell you you’re pregnant for no reason and hospitals mixing up results doesn’t happen very often. You’re pregnant.’

  ‘I’m not pregnant! Me! Pregnant! Don’t be stupid! The whole idea of it is just completely mad! Nick and I are careful you know. And although the hospital says he can have children, he hasn’t got the full kit has he? The chances have to be slimmer.’

  ‘What’s so mad about the idea of you being pregnant?’

  ‘Em, the first couple of weeks we had Willis I forgot to feed him three times. When Nick wasn’t here he had to leave Post-Its on the fridge to remind me,’ Freya told her.

  ‘And you think you’d do the same with a baby? Well, let me tell you, the noise they make you wouldn’t be able to forget it’s there,’ Emma assured her.

  ‘Well, that’s another thing. I mean, I like my sleep and I don’t function very well without it. From what I know about babies that isn’t a good combination.’

  ‘Have you done a test yourself?’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Well, why not? If you’re so sure you aren’t pregnant, do a test.’

  ‘It would be a waste of money. I mean I could probably buy about five or six large bars of chocolate for the price of a test.’

  ‘It sounds to me like you’re in denial. Buy a test, pee on the stick and then you’ll know. But if you don’t want to waste chocolate money go and see the doctor again, get a scan.’

  ‘You know me and hospitals.’

  ‘You can’t just do nothing. What does Nick say about it?’

  ‘Got to go, Em, that’s the intercom buzzing. It’ll be Jolie.’ She stood up and marched up and down to replicate movement.

  ‘Freya! Don’t you dare go! You haven’t spoken to Nick about it, have you?! Freya! Don’t you hang up on me!’

  ‘Sorry, Em, Jolie’s here. I’ll call you tomorrow.’

  Freya looked at the lump of cheese in her hand and saw she had consumed half of it. She couldn’t be pregnant, not now, possibly not ever. She hadn’t ever thought about it properly. It had never been high on her priority list. She suspected it had something to do with her childhood. She had nothing good to take from her life as a child to pass on to anyone else.

  Suddenly there was a loud bang from the kitchen and the alarm system began going off. The deafening wail had Freya leaping up and covering her ears, not knowing what to do.

  Her heart was racing and she just stood still frozen to the spot.

  The phone began to ring and she just looked at it, not knowing whether to pick up. With the alarm blaring, she took a deep breath and answered the call.

  ‘Hello.’

  ‘Please identify yourself. This is the police. We’ve been alerted to the alarm activation.’ The voice barked at her, sharp and commanding.

  ‘Um, I’m Freya Johnson. There was a noise from the kitchen and then the alarm went off and…’

  The lightheadedness was there again. Her eyes couldn’t focus.

  ‘Password!’ the voice barked again.

  ‘Um, I, er, just give me a minute…’

  She felt like she was going to vomit. She couldn’t remember what her password was.

  ‘You have twenty seconds then I’ll radio for an immediate armed response.’

  ‘Um, er, it’s “John McClane”. Did you hear that? John McClane!’

  As soon as the words were out of her mouth, the noise of the alarm ceased.

  ‘Hello, Miss Johnson, my name is Vanessa. I’ve deactivated the alarm here, but you will need to reset the control panel. Now, are you sure everything’s OK?’ the woman’s voice spoke.

  ‘I think so. I don’t know, I think I’m deaf. Let me go and check the kitchen.’

  Gingerly she left the lounge and made her way up the hallway towards the kitchen.

  She flipped on the light and saw Willis in the middle of the kitchen, stood next to a black crow, feathers around his lips. Freya looked up from the floor and saw the kitchen window was broken and glass was all over the work top.

  ‘I think you’d better get the police to come.’ She called Willis to her and picked him up.

  ‘OK, Miss Johnson, I’ll have a unit come straight over. Do you want to keep talking to me until they arrive?’

  The intercom buzzed loudly and it startled her. Her breath caught in her throat and she almost let go of Willis and the phone. Willis jumped from her arms.

  ‘Miss Johnson, is everything OK?’

  ‘Yes, yes it’s fine. Hang on, just one second. Hello?’ she said into the intercom system.

  ‘Hi, Freya, it’s Jolie,’ her neighbour’s voice called through the speaker.

  ‘Hi, Jolie. Come on up to the house. Er, hello? Vanessa? It’s fine, it’s my neighbour. She’ll be here until the police arrive. Thank you for your help.’

  She ended the call and rushed through the hallway to the front door to meet Jolie. She could see her friend marching up the driveway laden down with grocery bags.

  ‘Sorry I’m late, Freya. Adrian decided to paint the kitchen with ketchup and…well look at your hair!’ Jolie said.

  ‘I…well…I’ve got the police coming in a second and…’

  ‘You haven’t had another break in! Oh my God, when?! With you here in the house?’ She went up the steps to the house.

  ‘Well, it wasn’t really a break in, it was…look come in and make yourself at home. I’ve got some wine open and there’s beer in the fridge or there’s soda or…I’ve just got to call someone about the broken window.’

  ‘I’ll do that.’ Jolie put her arm around Freya. ‘I’ll also make
some tea.’

  Twenty Two

  The President’s Lounge was a well-known members only club in California. It was frequented by the rich and famous and was very exclusive. Nicholas had been a member for some years, but he’d only been in the establishment once when he’d met with a director. It wasn’t his scene.

  He nodded to a few people he recognised and made his way to the bar at the far end of the room. He didn’t like the place. It was all bright lights and wall-to-wall names from the American edition of Who’s Who. It wasn’t somewhere he felt comfortable.

  He ordered a beer from the bartender and sat down.

  ‘Hello, Mr Kaden. How are you? We haven’t seen you here for some time,’ the barman greeted with a smile.

  ‘Try about five years.’

  ‘How’s everything with you?’

  ‘Good thanks. Listen, I’m meant to be meeting with Eric Lawson-Peck tonight. Has he arrived yet?’

  ‘Sure. He’s in his office. It’s on the fourth floor.’

  ‘His office?’

  ‘Yes.’ The barman put a bottle of beer on the bar.

  ‘His office?’ Nicholas repeated.

  ‘Yes. Mr Lawson-Peck owns the President’s Lounge. Take the door at the end of this room and take the lift to the fourth floor.’

  Nicholas took a swig of his beer then crossed the room.

  He caught the lift and when the doors opened there were two large black men, dressed in tuxedos, stood outside waiting for him.

  ‘Mr Kaden,’ the larger of the two men greeted.

  ‘Hey.’

  ‘If you wouldn’t mind removing all the metal you’re carrying and holding your arms out. Just for a weapons check.’

  ‘A weapons check?’

  ‘Yes, sir, it’s just routine. If you wouldn’t mind.’ The smaller man produced a scanning machine.

  Nicholas took off his watch and removed his car keys from his pocket. He handed them to the large man then held his arms out for the smaller man to run the machine up, down and around him like a wand.

  The machine let out a loud beep.

  ‘A belt buckle. Sorry, forgot.’

  The smaller man parted the jacket of Nicholas’ suit and revealed the offending item. He then patted Nicholas down from shoulders to toe and even looked inside his socks.

  ‘Thank you, Mr Kaden. It’s this way.’ The larger man gave Nicholas his valuables back.

  The two men led him down the corridor and they stopped at a thick set of double doors. The larger man pressed a button and spoke into an intercom.

  ‘Mr Lawson-Peck, I have Mr Kaden. Are you ready for him?’

  There was silence for a time and then the reply came.

  ‘Show him in, Fraser.’

  There was a buzz. Fraser, pushed open the door and the smaller man indicated for Nicholas to follow, while he brought up the rear.

  He stepped into the room. There were glass windows at the far end, with a fantastic view of the city below. A big desk sat just in front of that, with a chair either side and a bookcase full of leather-bound books on one wall. There was no one else there.

  ‘Wait here,’ Fraser ordered, pulling out the chair from the desk.

  Nicholas did as he was told and sat down while the two men went back through the room and left.

  He was just contemplating standing back up again when a sudden movement to his right made him turn. The bookcase rotated and Eric Lawson-Peck appeared in the room.

  Nicholas had only ever seen the man in photographs and there was nothing striking about his appearance. He was of average height, approximately five foot ten. He had receding, fair hair that was greying at the temples and he was slimly built. He was wearing a dark blue designer suit, his shirt open at the neck and no tie.

  Eric paused momentarily and then walked swiftly towards his desk and sat down opposite Nicholas.

  Eric placed his hands on the desk and then suddenly stood up again and outstretched his hand in Nicholas’ direction.

  ‘I don’t believe we’ve ever met.’

  ‘No, I don’t believe we have. I would’ve remembered,’ Nicholas responded, unmoving.

  Eric smiled and sat back down in his chair.

  ‘So, to what do I owe the pleasure?’ Eric opened a drawer of his desk and took out a box of cigars.

  ‘I would have thought that was obvious.’

  ‘Not to me. Would you like one?’ He offered the cigars across the table.

  ‘No thank you. I don’t.’

  ‘Oh, that’s right. You had cancer didn’t you? How stupid of me! Someone who’s had cancer wouldn’t want to be taking any unnecessary risks would they?’ Eric lit his cigar and drew on it, producing a fog of smoke.

  ‘Look, Eric, we both know why I’m here…’ Nicholas started.

  ‘Thank you. I’d be delighted,’ the older man interrupted.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Your marriage to my daughter. I would be delighted to come. I take it you have brought an invitation.’

  Nicholas let out a sigh.

  ‘That isn’t why you’re here? Well then, I’m at a loss as to why you are here.’

  ‘You know why. Ever since the paper printed that article about Freya telling someone you were dead, everything’s started to go to shit for her again. Just like it did the last time you involved yourself in her life,’ Nicholas snapped.

  ‘I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.’

  ‘Come on. Don’t play the innocent with me. I’m an actor, remember? I can smell an act and you don’t fool me. You can’t bear it that everyone’s questioning you again. Snooping into your world, wanting to know why Freya doesn’t want to have you anywhere near her. Wondering again if the other article you bullied her into changing was actually true.’

  ‘I’ll tell you something shall I? I don’t much care for people getting the police around my property in the early hours of the morning, waking me up and asking pointless questions. I don’t much care for people who bandy my name around all over the place and spout malicious lies about me. I do not care for people who show me no respect.’ Eric leaned forward in his chair, his arms on the desk.

  ‘And I don’t much care for people who beat up my driver, break into my home and send my fiancée obscene letters.’

  Eric smiled and sat back in his chair.

  ‘Do you know, Nick? May I call you Nick? Perhaps I should, seeing as how we’re almost family. Do you know I was actually surprised Jane managed to keep her anonymity for so long. At the end of the day though, it’s always the same old story with her. She just can’t keep her mouth shut.’

  ‘Her name isn’t Jane anymore. She hasn’t been Jane for a long time. Her name is Freya and the reason Freya can’t keep her mouth shut, as you so eloquently put it, is because she can’t forget what you put her through.’

  ‘Have you ever considered, Nick, that maybe Jane’s been embellishing things? I mean she does have a habit of doing that, doesn’t she? Perhaps she’s still feeling a little aggrieved I sent her to prison. I mean that might just give someone an axe to grind, don’t you think?’

  ‘What are you trying to say? That you didn’t beat Freya quite as hard as she tells people you did? That she hid in her wardrobe less times than she claims? There has to be truth at the beginning for it to be embellished.’

  ‘Your fiancée needs to learn some self restraint, particularly when the press is around. I was sure that’d be something you’d have taught her by now. I’ve seen you work the journalists, avoid the tricky questions, change the direction of conversation. I have no doubt you know when to make no comment.’

  ‘If you knew Freya at all then you’d know she’s her own person and no one tells her what to do, least of all me.’

  ‘Well, well, what is this? You’re admitting you’re not the master of your own household? I’m surprised at you, Nick.’ He took a long, slow drag of his cigar.

  ‘We share things, Eric. That’s how a relationship should work. There shouldn�
�t be a tyrant handing out orders with a firm hand and a sharp tongue. That behaviour doesn’t make you a man, it makes you a bully.’

  Eric smiled and nodded, resting his cigar in the ashtray on the desk. Nicholas swallowed. Eric thumped his hands down on the desk and leaned towards Nicholas, his lips curled into a snarl.

  ‘How dare you come into my office, sit there and insult me! I thought better of you. I thought you might have a little respect for me. I didn’t think you were foolish enough to try and pick an argument with me,’ Eric hissed.

  ‘You don’t frighten me. Look at yourself! A small man in a flash suit, hiding behind a big desk and two, even bigger, security guards. Appearing from behind a false bookcase! What was that all about? Who do you see yourself as, Eric? Some kind of Bond villain?’ He held firm in his seat.

  ‘If I were you I’d keep that smart mouth of yours in check. I have a feeling you’ve been with Jane for too long. Some of her acridness has rubbed off on you.’

  ‘The only people you attack are those you think are smaller and weaker than you. I am not one of them.’

  ‘What makes you think I won’t finish you right here and now?’ Eric wanted to know.

  ‘You don’t have it in you. You don’t sully your own hands. You pay people to do it for you.’

  ‘Not when it’s personal.’

  ‘Listen, you can do whatever you like to me. You can have me assaulted, have me killed if you must, but leave Freya alone. She’s suffered enough.’

  ‘You’d put yourself in the firing line for her. How touching.’

  ‘I love her. I would do absolutely anything in my power to protect her. That’s why I’m here now. Don’t think for a moment I really want to be anywhere near you, let alone in the same room as you. You disgust me.’

  ‘It’s a funny thing isn’t it? What disgusts people. I mean, what’s your definition of disgusting, Nick?’ Eric queried. He sat back in his seat and picked up the cigar again.

  ‘What are you talking about? I don’t have time for this. I’ve said what I came to say.’ He stood up, turned away.

  ‘Sit down!’ Eric ordered.

  ‘Go to hell! I’m not answerable to you.’ He headed towards the door.

  ‘Oh, trust me, Nick. You’ll want to hear this.’