Special Relationship

by Fox, Alessandra

  "Nothing special," he replied. "Maybe Sandbanks at most."

  "Do you want me to book anything?" she asked.

  "No, if I decide to go, I'll sort it," he replied without looking up from a report on the gold price.

  In Stratford, Alex had managed to get her luggage down to two bags and one dress carrier. It's not that I'm trying to snare you Nick Hensen, it's because I am an independent woman who likes to look good, she thought determinedly.

  She spent the rest of the day trying but failing to concentrate on work and by five her nerves were jangling.

  "Kels, can we squeeze in a quick glass of wine before you go?"

  Kerry looked at the clock on the wall opposite. "You've only got an hour yourself, hon. We'll have to be quick."

  "I wasn't even this nervous on my first date," Alex said once they had sat down in the wine bar.

  "That's because your first date wasn't a multi-millionaire fund manager. If you were going away with Joe Bloggs you wouldn't be getting yourself into such a state." She couldn't help adding: "Mind you, Joe Bloggs wouldn't be such a looker."

  "Kerry, stop it," Alex said through gritted teeth.

  "Sorry, babe, but he is quite hot."

  "You are meant to be relaxing me."

  "You'll be fine. You are just going away for a weekend with a clever guy who, as you say, is a complete gentleman. And, though you haven't known each other long, he has been in the papers enough for us to know he is perfectly safe."

  Alex was beginning to feel self-absorbed. All she and Kerry had been talking about lately was her. So in the time they had left, she turned the conversation on to Kerry's plans for the weekend, finding out that she was seeing War Horse in the west end on Saturday night.

  "I've always wanted to see that. The trouble is I'd be sobbing the whole way through it," Alex said.

  "Yeah, I'm stocking up on the tissues before I go. Funny thing, as you know Luke likes to play the hunter-gatherer, big he-man but he is a lot more sensitive than he lets on. So I'll be able to rib him for ever more if I catch him with a tear on his face."

  Alex laughed. "Yep, in the years to come, every time you have an argument, you'll be able to say 'Do you remember that time you cried at War Horse."

  Both of them laughed and looked at their watches, in the synchronisation that comes with two close people thinking the same thing.

  "It's time for you to go, babe. I'll come back to the office with you."

  "No, Kels, I need to learn to stand on my own two feet. I'm a big girl now. You go home and give Luke a good time."

  "You will sneak me a text, won't you?"

  "Of course I will."

  They hugged and kissed on both cheeks. And left each other outside the bar as Kerry headed to the tube, looking behind several times to check her friend was OK.

  The office was empty and quiet, and Alex felt very alone. She thought of what had brought her to London and began to sob. She pulled herself together to answer her mobile from an unknown number. "Hi, Miss Anderson, it's Christos, I'll be with you in five. Would you like help with your luggage or should I just wait outside?"

  "Oh thanks Christos, no, I'll come down now and see you outside." She grabbed her bags and heaved them to the door. She switched off the lights and looked back at the safety of the office. What am I doing? she thought.

  She waved to Christos as she saw the car approach. There was no getting out of it now.

  He smiled warmly and put her bags in the boot before opening one of the rear doors. "Christos, do you mind if I sit in the front?" she asked. "I'm not good at doing the 'chauffer and passenger' thing."

  "Of course not, Miss Anderson."

  "And, please, call me Alex."

  The London traffic was at its Friday-night worst as the city's workers endeavoured to escape for a couple of days of rest and relaxation.

  "So where are we meeting Nick?"

  "Battersea," Christos replied.

  "Battersea?"

  "Yes the heliport."

  "Oh, Jesus!" Alex exclaimed.

  Christos laughed. "Never been in a helicopter before?"

  "No I haven't and, to be frank, I'm not sure I want to."

  "You'll be fine. It's only half an hour."

  Well at least she'd have something else to be nervous about other than Nick, she thought.

  Progress along the Embankment was slow but Christos kept her entertained with stories of his frequent trips to his family in Greece and how as many as thirty friends and relatives would all gather along four tables put together to enjoy Sunday lunch in the sun.

  "It's just like you see in The Godfather," he smiled. "Lots of good food, nice wine, kids running around."

  "Sounds idyllic," she said, meaning it.

  "Maybe you and Nick will come over one day?" he smiled mischievously.

  "We are not partners, Christos."

  "I did say one day," he laughed.

  At the heliport, he carried her bags to a small passenger terminal, where she saw Nick talking to a man who she presumed was their pilot. He turned round as they approached and she felt herself blushing. "Alex, how are you. I'm so pleased you came. I think you are really going to enjoy it."

  "Well, thanks for the invite. I'm looking forward to it," she replied rather awkwardly.

  "This is Tom Morris, our pilot."

  "Hi Tom."

  They shook hands with Alex confessing she was going to be a nervous passenger.

  "I've been flying thirty years, the weather's perfect and we are in a quality machine, so there's nothing to worry about," he reassured her.

  "Shall we go?"

  The four of them, Christos helping with the bags, walked on to the tarmac to board the Augusta 109.

  Nick turned to Christos. "We'll see you Sunday?"

  "Yes, call me to let me know what time. Have a nice weekend, boss...and you Alex."

  "Thanks Christos," she smiled.

  Nick helped her into the passenger compartment which consisted of two rows of three leather, reclining seats. It was more than spacious enough just for the two of them. He sat opposite her.

  "So where do we land?" she asked.

  "Bournemouth, then it's about half an hour in the car."

  "Some champagne might ease your nerves?"

  "Yes please," laughed Alex.

  "Take-off and landing are obviously a bit different, but otherwise it's like being in a regular plane, maybe a bit bumpier," he said trying to reassure her.

  The cork popped and he poured two glasses. "Here's to a nice weekend," he said clinking her glass.

  "A nice weekend, and a safe flight," she smiled. She had already drunk most of her glass when the engine started and then the blades start to rotate, first gently and then quickly gathering pace.

  "Don't worry, it's a bit like a roller coaster ride on take-off and then everything settles down," he said loudly above the noise. He thought of sitting next to her to reassure her but didn't want her to think he was being forward.

  Alex closed her eyes as the machine sprang off the ground, going one direction and then the other, and then stabilising before taking a sudden fast leap into the sky. "Whoa!" she screamed.

  "Are you OK?" he shouted.

  She didn't answer, concentrating on not being sick. But soon the helicopter became more balanced, and the noise settled and then they were flying as much as she was used to in planes.

  "Wow," she said.

  Nick laughed. "I took some persuading first time I got in one. Are you OK now?"

  "Yep, I'm fine," she said, looking out of the window to see the Thames sandwiched between lines of cars on the roads below.

  "We'll be there in half an hour. By car would takes ages on a Friday night."

  "But a car wouldn't have scared the living daylights out of me," she quipped.

  He smiled. "I know we haven't known each other long, and I was sort of worried about asking you, but I thought we had such a good time at Hampton Court...well, I was hoping you'd say ye
s."

  "Hoping or expecting?"

  "Oh not expecting at all, in fact I was very surprised – pleasantly surprised, of course."

  "I did have my doubts because, like you say, we barely know each other, but life is short, you have to take some risks," she said.

  "There are no risks, Alex. We are just going to leave work behind for a couple of days and have a relaxing time." He then thought for a while of Katherine in New York and wondered what she might be thinking of him now, especially if she had found out or even suspected that he was taking Alex away for the weekend.

  "I haven't heard from Tavis since I had to cancel our bar crawl," Alex said, making small talk. "I hope he wasn't offended."

  "No, he is a hardy Scot. There is not much that would offend him. I've got him working on a couple of jobs as well, so he has probably been just too busy."

  "And the Lord and Lady, have you spoken to them?"

  "Yes, and I can reveal that they are inviting you to their 'Farwell to Britain' bash at their country pile later in the year."

  "Me? But I hardly know them. And they are not emigrating are they?"

  "They like you. Said you were smiley and witty. And, no, they are not emigrating, they just spend the winter abroad."

  "I'm flattered. And will you be there?"

  "Yes, if you don't mind."

  "No, I don't mind, provided there is no helicopter involved."

  "Come on Alex, it's fine now," he said, looking out of the window at the Hampshire countryside below.

  "I guess," she said.

  "And how's Katherine?"

  "She's fine."

  "I was surprised I didn't hear from her regarding this trip."

  "She was tied up with other things," he lied.

  Alex looked out of the window at the Hampshire countryside below. Small villages and farms, churches and winding lanes. She liked England, especially when the weather was as good as it was that summer.

  "So what's our itinerary, Nick?"

  "Well, you can choose. I thought we'd laze around, hit the beach, maybe a picnic. I've got a car there so we can explore nearby, or we can walk along the beach to Bournemouth There's a great restaurant there if you like seafood. Or, you're right, there is a boat."

  "Too much choice, too little time," she said.

  "Nick, I'm not sure I should be asking this, but doesn't a man of, err, your means, need security. I mean you just wandering along a beach, couldn't you be kidnapped for ransom or something?"

  "I've got a security man but I don't think I really need him except when I go somewhere dodgy abroad. Having him around is really just to keep the investors happy."

  The helicopter started to descend and Alex prepared herself for another roller-coaster experience as they landed but it wasn't nearly as scary as taking off.

  After they had take out their luggage, Nick thanked Tom and wished him a good trip back and said he'd see him on Sunday.

  A man came across the tarmac to introduce himself as their driver for the rest of the journey.

  "It's like military precision," she said as they were driven off to Nick's seaside home.

  "Beats the bus."

  "For me, it's like a dream."

  He nearly said: "You'll get used to it" but stopped himself just in time.

  When they arrived, the house was all she thought it would be and more. It was huge. The draping roof of the art-deco style building was a violet colour which might have seemed too garish in other locations, but against the brilliant white walls and the opulence of the setting the colour worked perfectly.

  "This is amazing," she said as they walked round to the front. There was a small, well-kept garden and only a three-foot wall that separated the house from a wide beach. A gate led straight to the sand.

  "They call it Britain's Palm Beach," said Nick. "I've always loved it down here even when I was a kid and staying in cheap hotels up the coast."

  "It's beautiful."

  "Shall we go inside? "

  They walked back around the back of the house where he put his hand against a panel to open the door. "Relieved it's working, didn't want to have to go back to London," he said.

  They grabbed the luggage and walked inside.

  "Leave the bags here and I'll show you around."

  Downstairs was a dining room and a big, sparkling kitchen, fitted with lots of boys' toy gadgets that Alex doubted he had ever used.

  "Hope the house keeper hasn't let us down," he said, opening an American-style fridge. "Nope, we won't need a Chinese delivery," looking at the food and wine that had been supplied.

  On the first floor there was the main living room and off of that a study and a gym. From the living room, he opened a door to the balcony. Alex went out to look at the sea.

  Up more stairs were three bedrooms, two of them ensuite, and a bathroom. Every part of the house looked Sunday-magazine style luxury.

  "It's fabulous, so perfect. In my next contract I'm going to include a clause that I must work from Nick's Sandbanks' home."

  He laughed. "Let's get something to eat and drink."

  They went downstairs and looked again in the fridge. They decided on seafood with crusty bread which he prepared while Alex sat at the kitchen bar, sipping wine and looking out at the sea.

  "There's nothing that is more relaxing," she said.

  "What's that?"

  "The sea, just watching the waves. Do you know when I came to England I arrived on a ship."

  "You're kidding."

  "Nope. Just sat there reading and watching the sea for seven days."

  "Why? The plane is just seven hours."

  "But the plane doesn't cleanse your mind."

  "And why did you need your mind cleansed?" he asked.

  She didn't answer. She had her back to him but he guessed the look of pain that he had seen in her face before would be there.

  "Here, seafood salad and crusty bread from Nick's place."

  She turned around to reveal she was crying. "I'm sorry, I need to go to the bathroom," she said, tears streaming down her cheeks.

  Nick followed her. "What is it Alex, did I say something?"

  "No, it wasn't you." She went on into the bathroom and locked the door.

  "Alex, I'm outside. If there is anything you want or want to talk about, just ask."

  After the taps had been running for five minutes he decided she was using them to muffle the sound of her sobs. After five minutes more they were finally turned off and eventually the door opened. "I am so, so sorry," she said.

  "Don't be silly, whatever is troubling you we can talk about or not talk about - it's up to you."

  "No, I'm fine now, honestly."

  He struggled with what to say when they got back downstairs. She was sat at the chair drinking wine but not eating the food. "You know I do a mean English breakfast," he said. "So if you are not hungry now there will be a lavish meal coming your way first thing."

  "No, I'm fine now Nick, I'm just so sorry."

  "Stop apologising."

  They ate and drank wine and she perked up. Her beautiful smile returned as she heard Nick recount his experience in front of a group of angry politicians who wanted to know why him and his ilk had screwed up the world economy.

  "They were shouting at me like I was a schoolboy. But I hadn't done anything wrong. We never asked for a penny of public money and our fund actually did quite well because we were short a lot of stuff."

  "Short?"

  "Yeah, means we were betting on things to go down, which, as you know, they did quite dramatically. Anyway, my point is that as well as racism and sexism we now have something in the UK, if not the US as well, called bankerism."

  "Or Nickism," Alex laughed.

  He was relieved and very happy that she was smiling again.

  It was dark now but the beach was floodlit so they could still see small waves lapping against the sand.

  "Fancy a stroll?" he asked.

  They walked for maybe half a m
ile, the sand looking like powdered gold under the lights and the sea reminded them gently of its presence, occasionally throwing in a bigger wave than you'd expect for such a serene evening.

  "That's another thing about the sea," said Alex as they were returning. "You never know what mood it's going to be in, sometimes tranquil like tonight, other times really angry. It, like, has a personality. But whatever mood it's in I just love it. Whereas with humans you don't want to be around them when they are angry I want to be with the sea whether it's in a good mood or a bad one.

  "Anyway, not trying to waffle or anything, what I am trying to say is that my love of the sea is one of the reasons I couldn't resist your invitation."

  "And the other reasons?"

  "Well, helicopter trip, big house, nothing else on..."

  "Be careful, Miss Anderson, or on the return trip I'll ask the pilot to do one of his famous roll over's."

  "Helicopters don't roll over, you sod. I might be blonde but I'm not stupid."

  He smiled at her, wondering whether there could be a more adorable woman on the planet.

  When they got back to the house, he still resisted the temptation to play anything other than the gentleman card and, after carrying her luggage to her room, he kissed her on the cheek goodnight and told her breakfast would be ready at ten.

  As they lay in their separate beds waiting for sleep, he wondered what it was that so troubled her and Alex wondered whether Nick was too good to be true.

  Chapter seventeen: A fifty pence win.

  Alex was woken by the sound of Nick leaving his room and descending the timber stairs. She checked the time on her phone – it had just gone nine.

  Looking forward to the day ahead, she got herself out of bed, first sitting on its edge, feeling a bit fragile after all the wine and the trauma of her first helicopter flight the day before. She then showered quickly and put on a robe before going to join him.

  He was already dressed in blue, knee-length shorts and white T-shirt.

  "Morning," she said.

  "Hi, how did you sleep?"

  "Log-like."

  "Everything alright. Worked the shower and everything?"

  "There was water coming at me from all directions and the temperature kept changing. Quite an experience."