In Christofides' Keeping

by Abby Green

  Gypsy nodded, feeling herself fall even further into the chasm. But just at that moment, with absolutely no sense of foreboding whatsoever, she heard someone near them declare shrilly, ‘Oh, my God! Alexandra Bastion, is that you?’

  Chapter Eleven

  GYPSY’S blood went cold. Unbeknownst to her, her hand had tightened painfully on Rico’s. The woman came over and grabbed Gypsy’s arm. Gypsy recognised her through the fog of shock. They’d gone to school together—a remote and very exclusive boarding school in the Outer Hebrides in Scotland. The furthest place her father had been able to find to send her.

  ‘Alexandra—I don’t believe it! It’s been—what?—seven years since we left that place? How are you? What have you been up to?’

  The woman’s eyes went appreciatively to Rico. Clearly she was looking for an introduction. But Gypsy was incapable of speaking, and suddenly, on top of this shock, she knew the taste of the champagne was making itself felt and that she was going to be sick.

  As if realising her turmoil, and no doubt thinking the woman was mad, Rico put his arm around Gypsy’s waist and said urbanely, ‘I’m sorry—you must have the wrong person.’ With a smooth move he glided them away.

  Gypsy got out through numb lips, ‘I need a bathroom.’

  She could hear the woman behind them saying to someone, ‘How strange. I could have sworn that was Alexandra Bastion…and who was that guy?’

  Her voice faded away, but Gypsy felt clammy all over and knew that if Rico hadn’t been holding onto her she might have fallen.

  In seconds they were in the lift and going upwards, a wall of tense silence between them. Gypsy took deep breaths and concentrated on not being sick, but all she could think of was the champagne sloshing around her belly, and she knew it had been that woman who had sent her back in time.

  As soon as they were in the suite she ran for the bathroom and closed the door, hunching over the toilet bowl as the contents of her belly came up. She was aware of the door opening and Rico coming in. She put out a hand and said weakly, ‘No, please…go away.’

  But, predictably, he ignored her. She heard water running, and then she felt a damp cloth against her face and it was wonderful. Eventually, when her stomach was empty, Rico helped her up and handed her a toothbrush with toothpaste already on it. She brushed her teeth and splashed water on her face. And then Rico lifted her into his arms, despite her weak protest, and took her over to one of the ornately covered chairs and sat her down.

  He went and sat on the corner of the bed, near the chair, and just watched her, hands linked loosely between his legs. Gypsy knew without him saying a word that she had to talk. Now. With a tight knot in her belly, she took a deep breath.

  ‘When I was fifteen years old my father found me tasting champagne from a leftover bottle after one of his parties.’ Her belly tightened at the memory. ‘He dragged me into his study, opened a new bottle of champagne and forced me to drink the lot. He wouldn’t let me leave the room until I had. When I was sick all over the floor he made me clean it up, and told me that perhaps I’d remember that lesson if I ever wanted to taste champagne again.’

  She looked at Rico. His eyes bored into hers and he said, ‘Your father was John Bastion.’

  Gypsy couldn’t even feel surprised that he knew. She just nodded wearily. ‘When did you find out?’

  ‘Before we came back to Athens.’

  So he’d known for the past few weeks, but said nothing.

  He saw the question in her eyes and said, ‘I wanted you to tell me yourself. Why didn’t you want to tell me about him?’

  Her heart clenched. She bit her lip. Where to start? Hands closed tight in her lap, she finally said, ‘Because I hated him, and from the day he died I wanted to forget that he’d existed.’

  Rico frowned. ‘Where did Alexandra come from?’

  ‘He didn’t want me. The only reason he took me in eventually was because he was a so-called pillar of society and Social Services couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t. He had to; he wanted to avoid negative press attention at all costs. But the minute I was under his roof he insisted on changing my name to Alexandra, and he spread the word discreetly that he’d adopted me out of the goodness of his heart. He didn’t want anyone to know I was his biological daughter. He was ashamed to be reminded that he’d had an affair with a cleaner. He was ashamed of everything about me—especially as I wasn’t some sleek blonde, like his own mother or his new wife.’

  Rico stood up and started to pace. He turned around. ‘And what about your mother? Where was she?’

  Gypsy’s hands tightened. She looked down. ‘We weren’t well off at all…Where I was living with Lola was a palace compared to where we were. She couldn’t cope. She tried to kill herself…that’s why she wanted me to go to my father. He insisted they send her to a mental hospital for psychiatric assessment…and without any resources or anyone to speak for her she got lost in the system, forgotten about. She died there when I was about thirteen, but I didn’t find out until after my father died and I found a letter from the hospital.’ She didn’t mention the heartbreaking letters from her mother.

  ‘Your father and stepmother died in a plane crash?’

  Gypsy looked up again and nodded. ‘Over the English Channel, coming back from France.’

  Surprising her, he asked, ‘Why were you in the club that night, Gypsy?’

  Feeling the quiver of trepidation in her belly, but knowing that if he investigated further he’d find out everything anyway, she told him. She smiled wryly, but it felt a bit skewed. ‘As I was officially my father’s next of kin, despite public perception, I received everything in his will. He’d never got around to making sure I wouldn’t, which is undoubtedly what he’d planned, but as he believed he was infallible he hadn’t counted on sudden death…

  ‘That night…the night of the club…it was six months after his death and I’d just received and signed over every single Bastion asset and property to all the charities he had been patron of and had stolen from for years. I felt so guilty that I’d never been brave enough to report him to the police it was the least I could do. I donated the rest of his money to psychiatric care and research. I insisted it was done anonymously. I didn’t want any media attention. And I’d also just reverted back to my own birth name, which was easy as it was on my birth certificate. I was finally free—from him and his legacy. I didn’t want a penny of his money. Not after what he did to my mother and how he treated me.’

  She shrugged. ‘I heard the beat of the music and I wanted to dance, to celebrate being free…’

  Rico came and sat back down heavily on the bed.

  Gypsy continued with a rush, wanting to make Rico understand. ‘He knew that I knew about his transgressions with charity funds, so when I was seventeen he took me to a charity event and auctioned me off to work for a summer with that charity’s operation in Africa.’ Her mouth twisted. ‘It was to get me out of his hair, but also a punishment and a way to demonstrate his control. I had the last laugh, though, because it was the best experience I ever had and it inspired me to want to study psychology.’

  She bit her lip. ‘He spoke of you. He was envious of your fortune and said you were ruthless. That was another reason I believed the worst about you. I assumed your methods were the same as his…’

  Rico’s lip curled. ‘I never had anything to do with the man. I had no respect for the way he did business.’

  Feeling unaccountably sad, Gypsy said, ‘I know that now.’ She stood up abruptly. Emotions were bubbling too close to the surface. She’d never revealed this much to another living soul and she suddenly felt too exposed. ‘Look, do you mind if we don’t talk about it anymore? It’s in the past now. Alexandra Bastion never really existed. I’d like to go home to Lola tonight, if it’s possible.’

  Rico stood too, tall and powerful, his face and eyes unreadable. Gypsy nearly sagged with relief when he said, ‘Of course it’s possible. I’ll call Demi now. Why don’t you get cha
nged and we’ll go?’

  The whole way back to the island, and then to the villa, Rico was silent, and Gypsy was grateful. Once they got inside, though, and they’d both looked in on Lola, who slept peacefully, Rico trailed a finger down Gypsy’s cheek and said, ‘We’ll talk in the morning…we need to talk about this.’

  His steely tone brooked no argument. Of course he wasn’t going to let her revelations end here. Reluctantly Gypsy nodded briefly, and Rico stepped away and strode from her room, leaving her alone.

  And that night, for the first time in a long time, she slept like a baby.

  The following morning Gypsy revelled in waking up to Lola’s chatter as she waited contentedly for someone to come to her. She had a prickling sensation over her skin, as if something momentous was going to happen. And she couldn’t forget the revelation that Rico had already known of her past. Perhaps not everything, but enough, and yet he’d wanted to wait for her to tell him. He hadn’t used it against her.

  It made her feel slightly panicky inside, with the sensation of no walls of defence left standing. What would happen now?

  Gypsy dragged herself up and went to greet Lola, who said ecstatically, ‘Mama!’, and stood to greet her. Gypsy took her out and held her close, breathing in her delicious scent and feeling her solid weight. But already Lola was squirming to get down and be off exploring.

  It was only when she was escaping out through the bedroom door that Gypsy realised she was looking for Rico, who appeared at that moment, cleanshaven and gorgeous in jeans and a T-shirt, and swung Lola up in his arms, much to her delight.

  He looked at Gypsy, no discernible expression on his face. ‘I’ll take her down if you want to get dressed.’

  So we can talk.

  He didn’t say it, but he didn’t have to. He now had all the knowledge, all the power. Gypsy hated the way she automatically imagined the worst, but she’d had years of dealing with exactly that.

  A short while later, dressed equally casually in jeans and a long-sleeved top, Gypsy joined the mayhem that was Lola’s breakfast-time. Agneta was there too, cooing at Lola, who was happily holding court. Gypsy came in and had some coffee and a croissant, but she couldn’t swallow past the huge lump in her throat.

  When Agneta took Lola off, insisting that she would get her changed and dressed, Rico finally put down his napkin and stood.

  ‘Will you come into my study?’

  Gypsy looked up, and something dark made her say, ‘Oh, so you’re asking now?’

  It was a mistake, because Rico glowered and all Gypsy could think of was the frantic coupling that had happened between them in there. With warmth suffusing her cheeks, she followed Rico.

  Once in the study, Rico turned around to face Gypsy. Instinctively wanting to protect herself, she crossed her arms. Rico hitched one hip on the edge of his desk, and Gypsy fought not to let her gaze drop wantonly to where his jeans stretched over hard thighs.

  ‘I had no idea you went through so much at the hands of that man.’

  Gypsy looked at Rico before glancing away. His gaze was so intense. She shrugged. ‘How could you have known? No one knew except for me.’

  ‘That’s why you didn’t want to tell me about Lola, isn’t it?’

  Gypsy swallowed painfully. Her gaze swung back. ‘It was a large part of it, yes. But, no matter what you believe, I did intend telling you. I just wanted to be in a better position…so you wouldn’t see me as weak…and the thought of being dragged through the courts to prove paternity was daunting. I didn’t want people finding out that I had been Alexandra Bastion and wondering where the family fortune had gone. I had never imagined that I might become pregnant. I truly did believe I’d be safe.’

  Rico winced. ‘I told you about that court case. It was just unbelievably bad timing for you to have seen it that very morning.’

  Rico stood from the desk and started to pace, making Gypsy’s pulse race. She crossed her arms tighter across her chest.

  He stopped to face her and in an uncharacteristically impatient gesture ran a hand through his hair. ‘Look,’ he began, ‘it’s clear now that we both had our reasons for reacting the way we did—you in your decision to keep Lola to yourself, and me for wanting her with me from the moment I knew about her.’ He shook his head. ‘I thought you were just like my mother—wilfully keeping me from Lola just because it served your purposes. And the thought of Lola possibly being brought up by some other man some day…enduring what I had…was too much to contemplate.’

  Gypsy balked at the thought of another man. There would be no other man. Not ever. Not any more.

  She bit her lip and said quietly, as that assertion rocked through her, ‘I was just so terrified that you would be like my father…worse…because you were even more powerful than him. All I ever was was an inconvenient pawn to him.’ She looked at Rico. ‘I thought you would sweep in and take us over, remove me permanently from Lola’s life the way my father did my mother.’

  Rico shook his head. ‘I was angry, yes, but I never thought of taking you away from Lola. I will admit that I saw a future where Lola was in my life and you were sidelined…but I don’t see that future any more.’

  ‘You don’t?’

  He shook his head. ‘No.’ His voice was a little gruff. ‘I see a future with all of us together. I don’t want this to end in fifteen months. I don’t want to let you and Lola go. I want more than that, Gypsy. I want us to be a family…’

  Gypsy started to tremble from her feet up. What Rico was saying was so huge. Massive. He wanted them to stay together. For ever? It was all at once the most exhilarating thing and the most terrifying. And in the midst of it all was her bone-deep ingrained fear and panic.

  That snide voice was reminding her that men like Rico were masters of getting what they wanted. That he had swept in and taken them over. Look at them now—living on an island, effectively cut off from everything and everyone. And she had no idea how Rico really felt about her. He might be able to forgive her now, but what if that resentment was still there, buried and festering away? What if his desire waned and he wanted another woman?

  Gypsy shook her head and started to back away, noticing the flash of Rico’s eyes. He stood up straight at the desk, and his quick anger at her less than compliant response seemed to add fuel to her reasoning.

  ‘You want me to agree to your plans just like that?’ She snapped her fingers. ‘You’ve been in our lives for a month, Rico, and suddenly you think that we can be a family?’

  His frame bristled with energy. His jaw was tight. ‘You’re just saying that because it’s hard for you to trust me.’

  ‘Don’t patronise me, Rico. From the word go you’ve stormed in and had it all your own way. This is exactly what I was afraid of.’

  ‘Gypsy—’ he sounded frustrated now ‘—you’re not being rational.’

  Something deep within Gypsy was surging up—something that had been buried for a long time. ‘I am not my mother, Rico. I am not mentally weak. I have skills. I can take care of myself and my daughter.’

  ‘I’m not saying you can’t. What I’m saying is that I want to be there too. I want us to be together.’

  ‘Because you want to control us.’ Gypsy knew now that she was being irrational, but she couldn’t stop.

  ‘No! Dammit, Gypsy, no. Not because I want to control you but because I love Lola. I don’t want to be separated from her and I—’ He stopped abruptly, concern etched on his face. ‘What? What is it?’

  He even came towards her, but she waved him back—if he touched her now…For a heart-stopping moment she’d thought he was about to say he loved her, and when he hadn’t…she’d felt like collapsing. Of course he loved Lola. And he wanted to do what was best for her. A million miles from her own father. Suddenly Gypsy felt ashamed.

  Rico’s voice was tight. ‘Look, what is it going to take for me to prove that you can trust me and that I’m not like your father?’

  Gypsy lifted stinging eyes to Rico and,
with a guilt that nearly crippled her, said the one thing she wanted least. But she couldn’t stop it—as if on some level she thought if he could prove this then she would gladly give him everything, even if he didn’t love her.

  ‘I want to know that you will let us go if we want to—that you won’t cut yourself off from Lola just to punish me.’

  With his features pale and stark, Rico said nothing for a long moment, and then he walked out of the study. Before Gypsy could wonder what he was doing he came back and held out a key. She saw that it was the key to the Jeep.

  ‘Go on—take it. I’ve instructed Agneta to pack up some things.’

  Numbly Gypsy took the key and looked up into Rico’s eyes. They were a cool slaty grey. ‘You’re just going to let us go? Right now? Like this?’

  His mouth was a thin line. ‘That’s what you want, isn’t it? That’s what it’s going to take?’

  Suspecting he was just proving a point, but feeling utterly confused and bewildered, and thinking that perhaps even Rico had had enough by now, Gypsy nodded dumbly. She’d meant that she wanted him to assure her that he would let them go if she wanted, but now she realised that she might not have trusted that either. And through all of that was the heart-searing realisation that he could let her walk away—because she meant nothing to him.

  Things happened quickly, and through it all a numbness settled over Gypsy as bags were put in the boot of the Jeep and as she strapped a bemused Lola into her chair. Poor Agneta was looking on, wringing her hands as if she had done something wrong.

  Rico stood back. The only thing he said was, ‘This doesn’t mean you’re out of my life. Lola will always know I’m here.’

  Gypsy got into the Jeep and held herself together as she started it up with a shaking hand. She had no earthly idea what to do or where to go. She was proving her point, and it was a disaster. But she drove out of the villa anyway, and set off along the coast road.

  Almost immediately a plaintive wail came from the back of the Jeep. ‘Papa!’