by Ruth Hay
In the end Suzanne did not have to wait long. Zoe was bubbling over with excitement and it was not just about the Portal project. She had to tell someone at work and Suzanne was her confidante in all things. She waited until they were together in her office with the door shut and an uninterrupted scheduled meeting time ahead of them.
Zoe drew the blinds blanking out her private office suite and turned to Suzanne with a look of sheer joy on her face.
“I’m pregnant! It’s true, I am actually pregnant!”
Suzanne did something she had never before dared to do. She jumped out of her chair and enfolded her boss in her arms. The two women bounced up and down together for a moment trying to keep their excitement within bounds so as not to alarm anyone in the nearby work areas.
“Tell me everything! When did you find out? How far along are you? What can I do to help? How is Wesley coping?”
They settled back down in their chairs as Zoe revealed all the details. They laughed together when she told how Wesley would not let her do one thing at home. He helped her out of her chair and had even started cooking for her using a new Cooking For Pregnancy book he had found online.
“The poor dear is trying so hard to keep me from knowing how worried he is. He wants to ask me to stop work. I can see it in his eyes but he knows I would resist.”
“About that, Zoe, I can arrange to reduce your workload, as discreetly as possible of course. If we do it gradually, there’s no need for anyone in the company to know there’s a baby coming until you choose to make it public. Naturally, it depends on how you are feeling.”
“It’s probably a good idea, Suzanne. I feel great at the moment. In fact, I have never felt this confident. I think the famous pregnancy hormones have kicked in. I’m sure there are things I should be worrying about but I can’t seem to shove aside my happy, contented feelings to get to them.”
“That’s absolutely the best thing about being pregnant. Mother Nature arranges it for us. Have you been feeling sick at all?”
“No, thankfully! But I can’t keep my eyes open past nine in the evenings and I am sleeping so well nowadays.”
“That’s excellent news. I will fetch your lunch from the cafeteria so it won’t be obvious that milk is a new diet item. You can eat in peace up here and I’ll include a few healthy snacks to keep you going. Is the paparazzi situation still a concern?”
“Not so much. They have found other victims I suspect, and there’s been nothing new about Wesley and I in the papers. I think it’s safe to drop the disguises now.”
Suzanne advised Zoe to continue with her practise of leaving the building from different exits and using limousine companies with a good record for privacy.
“It will make it easier for you later. Can I help you get pregnancy clothes? I know some very smart clothing lines.”
“Honestly, I haven’t thought that far ahead. I would be glad of the help. I am so happy we can share this journey, Suzanne. You might need to scale down your own responsibilities if you are going to be helping me so much.”
“Zoe Morton, it’s an absolute pleasure to help you. No one has ever done so much for me as you have. Everything good in my life has come from you. It’s a privilege to return even a tiny part of that favour.”
* * *
Zoe Morton had a schedule of monthly visits to her gynaecologist. Dr. Ambrose was aware of her patient’s identity but she chose to overlook this and proceed with the pretence that her patient was one Mary Jones. She deliberately ignored any enquiries from her office staff about the resemblance of her new patient to a certain famous business woman and delivered one or two lectures about the vital importance of respecting privacy. Soon the enquiries ceased, at least in the doctor’s hearing.
The problem arose when a new receptionist joined the staff to allow one of the long-time nurses to go on maternity leave.
Jessica was well-experienced and came highly recommended by an agency Dr. Ambrose had used before. She settled in to the office routines very quickly and within a week or two, she was just another cog in a well-oiled wheel. It was hard to remember Jessica had not always been around at the front desk.
What had not been a part of the application forms Jessica had filled out after her interview, was the information that her boyfriend of a few months was a reporter in a daily newspaper known for its scandalous reporting on the secret lives of celebrities.
Dan was in a difficult situation at work. As a junior in a big operation, he was always in danger of losing his job to another young cub with a bright idea or better connections. He made it clear he was available for any assignments day or night and when this ate into his free time with Jessica, he tried to explain his problem to her.
“You’re a temp at your new office, so you know what it’s like these days. The London streets are full of guys and gals just like us, fighting for a paid position so they can survive for another month or two before slinking back to mum and dad with our tails between our legs. It’s a nightmare out there and the competition is fierce. I can’t promise to see you on a regular basis, Jess, and the truth is I can’t afford to take you anywhere nice until I am more secure at the paper.”
This was bad news for Jessica. She had met up with Dan through a girlfriend and he was the best-looking and best-educated guy she had seen in years in the city. She did not want to lose him so soon in their relationship. As far as she was concerned, Dan was the real deal, a rarity in her experience. The very fact that he had confessed his true circumstances to her made him an exception to the usual lying, cheating, scum who inhabited the wine clubs and small cafes where she usually trolled for prospects.
“Look, Dan, I’ll be here whenever you are free. I understand your feelings but I really don’t know what it is you do at the newspaper. I’ll order another glass of wine for us and you can explain it to me.”
Jessica was not really so intrigued by Dan’s job. It was worth the cost of a couple of glasses of wine to get him to stay longer. She knew, also, there was nothing so appealing to a man as a female who expressed an interest in his work. It was how most males defined themselves.
She listened in a half-hearted way while admiring his clean-cut look and those muscles that screamed how fit he must be under the shirt. The shirt collar was lightly starched indicating he cared about his appearance. Maybe there was money somewhere in his background to pay for luxuries like dry cleaning.
She was just speculating about the possibility of moving in with him one day and saving a fortune in her current shared apartment rent, when something Dan said caught her attention again.
“….it’s tough to know where to go to get a story that sells. I’m online all the time searching for leads. One good celebrity photo could make my job secure for at least a month or two. I really need a break, Jess.”
A conversation she had overheard in the staff bathroom at the clinic suddenly popped into her mind. It was something about a famous woman CEO who was visiting the doctor under an assumed name. What was it the girls had said might be the woman’s real name? Was it Wharten or Horton? The first name was more unusual. It was short. If she could recall it, she might be able to put the two together. Of course, there was no way to tell if this little bit of gossip was of any use to Dan, but you never know………..
“It’s Zoe Morton!”
Dan stopped talking at once and looked at Jessica with raised eyebrows.
“What did you just say? How do you know Zoe Morton?”
His full attention was on her and she liked the feeling.
“I was thinking about what you said, Dan. Celebrities are big news according to you. I might have something for you if she is what you called newsworthy?”
“Are you kidding me?” He quickly lowered his voice. This was no time to alert anyone in the crowded bar to what was going on at their table.
“Zoe Morton is right up there with some members of the Royal Family for avoiding publicity at all costs. There’s hardly anything known about her private
life and she only appears in public when her Excelsior company is launching some new product or service.
When she announced a new charity program to help women with depression and mental issues a few weeks back, she just did a short TV clip and left the rest to her publicity people. She never responds to media requests and no one actually knows where she lives. There was a magazine piece a while back with a photo of Zoe Morton and a man at some holiday place in the sun. It was supposed to show her husband but no one could confirm it and the story died fast. I doubted the whole thing. I think it was a scam. She never takes holidays anyway. It could have been a huge story if it was true.”
This was not what Jessica wanted. Dan was focussed on the story and not on her. She made a quick decision to bring him back to the main event; Jessica.
“Well, if you think she’s worth following I guess I can see what I can find out. It might take a while though. You would have to keep in touch.”
“I’ll camp on your doorstep if necessary. This could be the breakthrough I’ve needed so bad. What’s the office you work in now?”
“It’s an Ob/Gyn medical centre.” Wasn’t he listening to anything I said before this minute?
“Good God! If she’s pregnant it would be big news. Please keep me posted, Jess.
Anything at all you can find out could be worth solid gold for me.”
She noticed it was all about him again. Typical male. Take what you want and it’s all over.
She decided to make him wait until she had him under control. A few anxious days would soon bring him to heel. After all, she might have made a mistake about the name and the inference. It would take a while before she could confirm anything. She could hardly risk losing this job by showing too much interest in any of the patients.
Chapter 20
Portia Anderson had started to write a journal after Dr. Wesley told her it would be good for her to record her progress. At first she wrote little because she felt little progress.
She had been subject to recurring attacks of insecurity and dark periods where she felt totally alone. Every little thing that happened assumed immense significance in her mind and she was afraid for most of her waking hours and even more afraid of her dreams at night.
There was not much she recalled about the journey back from Mexico where she had her breakdown. The weeks while she had to adjust to life in the big mansion with her grandparents, were just a scary blur. She had only a few brief words in her journal for all that time and now when she looked at those, she had to turn the pages fast so as not to be drawn back down into the abyss.
It was difficult to say exactly when she began to feel better but the length of her journal entries were some clue as to how she was changing. She never dated these. She could scarcely remember what year or month it was, never mind what actual day. One week faded into another for what seemed a very long time.
Just recently she had been able to track some of her progress by re-reading the journal and it was helpful to see the signs of her improvement.
* * *
Abigail came to stay. I don’t know for how long. She and her sister never liked me at all so I don’t know what she is doing here with Just Gran and Gramps. I hope she keeps out of my way. I don’t need any more negative people in my life. My mother has called but I have no wish to see her.
* * *
When I am talking to Zoe on Skype, Abi keeps out of the way. Perhaps she doesn’t want anyone to know where she is living. She doesn’t bother me much. I think she is supposed to be keeping an eye on me but as long as she stays away from me I can ignore her.
There’s too much going on in my mind to have to worry about what she might do or say.
* * *
Gran takes a nap in the afternoon and Gramps works in the library. If it’s a nice day I like to go into the garden and Abi follows me like a pet dog although she just sits nearby and reads or works on her laptop.
I can wander around by myself and it is an amazing place to wander in. It’s more like a park than a house garden but I suppose a house this size deserves a garden to match. There’s a gardener who comes to work here but he stays away from me. I like him, not because of this but because he doesn’t do that thing of cutting back trees and bushes to make strange unnatural shapes. He just tidies up and trims any dead bits.
It’s a peaceful place. I feel more like my old self here.
* * *
Today I asked Abi if she could get me some drawing paper and pencils. She looked surprised. I don’t usually say anything at all to her but she asked me a few questions and said she would try to find what I need. It would be nice to be able to draw again. I used to love to do it. It’s a risk. I don’t know if I have lost the ability to draw like I have lost so much else in my life. If she can find supplies I guess I will wait till I feel brave enough and see if I can still do something. There’s plenty here of interest. I have never known so many shades of green.
* * *
Abi handed me the paper and pencils and never even asked me about them. I thanked her, then I walked away quickly. I did not want any spectators while I put pencil to paper for the first time in ages. My hands shook and I dropped a pencil in the grass. That made me panic so I walked about for a bit until I felt calmer. Wesley says I should be more active and I do feel better when I am outside and moving.
After five minutes I found a bench in a quiet spot and tried again. The first attempt was pretty awful but I must have been drawing for an hour. The time flew by so fast I couldn’t believe it when Abi said it was time for supper. She never lets me miss a meal.
* * *
It rained for two whole days and I could not wait to get outside and draw again. My fingers itched in the way they used to before . My mind was full of ideas not just terrible thoughts and memories. I went to the bench immediately and wiped it dry with my sleeve and looked out at the garden. Suddenly I could see shapes and patterns again. It was like the rain brought everything into focus and my pencils flew across the paper. I didn’t stop to think at all. I let the work flow freely and it was so good. When I was in that evil office where I used to work I had to conform all the time to what was required. I threw that whole bad method off forever and just enjoyed the moment for a change. It was a great relief.
* * *
Abi wants to help me with my hair and she says she can do my makeup using the box of Excelsior supplies Zoe sent. I can’t see why I need to look different for Abi and the grandparents. No one cares how I look but Zoe wants me to do it. She says I will feel better.
Not sure if I want to get that close to Abi but she has been OK with me. Today she said if I felt better she would take me into town so I could choose an easel and find my own paints and brushes. I really felt great just at the thought of it so I let Abi do my face and fix my hair a bit. How did it grow so long?
I watched Abi in the mirror while she was working on me with her tongue sticking out between her teeth. I suppose I was a bit of a challenge for her! I noticed Abi looks quite different from the way she used to look. She was always the scary cousin with perfect hair, like my mother, and that same impatient way of talking to people as if no one else was worth any notice. She is softer looking somehow. Could be less make-up suits her?
She did a good job on me and took a photo to send to Zoe.
Tomorrow I get the reward…… a trip to an art store with Abi in Gramps’ car!
* * *
I survived my first trip outside the mansion and it was so noisy and busy on the streets I could hardly stand it. If I hadn’t wanted so badly to get the art supplies I would have screamed to go back home.
Now I can really start to paint. I chose every shade of green paint in the store and the owner found me some unusual tints I had never seen before. He showed me how to mix them with minerals to get amazing effects. I can’t wait to start early tomorrow. Gran says I have to rest for the remainder of the day.
* * *
No journal writing for two whole weeks
! I have worked in the garden every day and the canvases are piling up. I can’t remember ever being this excited about work. The paint flies around and soon every inch of the canvas is covered. I will have to ask the gardener how to get the splashes off the bench. I can’t judge whether the work is good or bad. It doesn’t matter to me. I am loving doing it and feeling better about myself each day.
For the last week I haven’t once wakened in the night with a horrible nightmare.
Not once!
Just wait till I tell Zoe!
* * *
My cousin Devon appeared today. He didn’t speak to me at all and I am grateful.
Not sure I will ever feel comfortable around strange men. Devon is like a stranger to me. He and Abi talked for a while. She told me later that he is helping Gramps with selling things from the house. I don’t want to think about having to move from here. This place has been like a safe haven for me. I am beginning to understand how very ill I was before I came here. My mother has tried to tell me how sick I was. She takes blame on herself for that but I can see she is trying to make amends.
A thought has occurred to me. If Gran and Gramps had not taken me in when I was so very ill, I could have ended up in one of those ghastly locked asylums where patients are drugged up to the eyes and never breathe the outside air for months on end. I saw this in a movie once. I have a lot to thank my grandparents for and I can now include Abi in that. I am one very lucky girl despite everything that happened to me. Thank God for my family even if they are not perfect.
Devon is back! He wants to buy a painting! He wants to pay real money and hang the painting in his new office in a new Toronto company downtown where entrepreneurs work together.