by Mandy Baggot
‘Is absolutely fine and everything looks normal. We saw the heartbeat on the monitor and it was amazing,’ Emma told her, looking at Yiannis.
‘Oh my boy and Emma! You make me grandmother! Come here, come here!’ Mrs Petroholis shrieked as she came out of the restaurant to greet them.
She enveloped Emma in a bear hug that nearly squeezed all the breath out of her and then she let go, and turned her attentions to her son. Mrs Petroholis hugged him tightly too and exchanged words in Greek. They both then disappeared into the restaurant leaving Freya and Emma alone.
‘I’m sorry again, for Russell and what he did. I feel completely responsible and…’ Freya began, still feeling that she had not properly made up for events.
‘Stop it Freya. You aren’t responsible for Russell. I think Yiannis might want a few words with him though,’ Emma spoke.
‘Russell’s gone and he won’t be coming back,’ Freya stated.
‘And he went without a fight? After all the threats last night?’ Emma exclaimed in surprise.
‘Well yes, kind of,’ Freya replied, holding back from telling her friend she had handed him her life history on a plate.
‘And Nick?’ Emma queried.
‘I told him. Everything,’ Freya said with a deep breath and then a smile.
‘Oh Freya. How do you feel now?’ Emma asked.
‘Strange. Relieved in a way, terrified in another,’ Freya replied.
‘And what did he say?’ Emma wanted to know.
‘He said he wants to see my prison tattoos,’ Freya joked.
‘Stop it! I was being serious,’ Emma told her.
‘He said he was falling in love with me,’ Freya spoke.
‘Oh my God! Oh Freya! I would jump up and down but Yiannis would probably have a fit. So, how do you feel about him?’ Emma wanted to know.
‘Well, I know I really like spending time with him and he knows everything about me now. I don’t know, things like this don’t happen to me. I’m a bit scared to like him too much in case I jinx it. I mean, look at him Em and look at me. Hollywood actor, someone who shops in Evans,’ Freya stated, holding her arms out.
‘I won’t have this again Freya. You are amazing and Nick obviously likes what he sees. Physical stuff is all superficial anyway,’ Emma spoke.
‘What did I do to deserve a friend like you?’ Freya asked.
‘You must have put up with a lot of grief in a past life,’ Emma told her.
‘Yeah, I must have,’ Freya agreed.
‘Girls! Girls! Come, come, we have champagne to celebrate my grandchild! Emma, you have sparkling water. Come sit down! Come! Come!’ Mrs Petroholis called, beckoning to them both.
‘She is not going to leave me unattended for the next seven months,’ Emma said quietly to Freya as they moved towards the restaurant.
‘It could be worse. She might let you off working the restaurant so much,’ Freya suggested.
‘Oh I doubt it. Yiannis’ already told me she nearly gave birth to him in the middle of preparing a moussaka and that she used to have him in a carry pack on her back in the kitchen until he could walk. Then basically after that, he was serving tables,’ Emma informed her.
‘You’d best start reading the menu to your bump then, get it in training,’ Freya suggested.
‘I’ll read it in Greek and English, make sure it’s bilingual when it comes out,’ Emma replied.
‘Just teach it the basics. “More please”, “beer” and “can I have a room for tonight?” Those phrases have seen me through,’ Freya told her.
Emma took hold of Freya’s hand and gave it a squeeze.
‘I am proud of you for telling Nick. I know what that means to you and I know how hard it must have been,’ Emma spoke.
‘Well it wasn’t as hard as it’s going to get. I have a feeling by tomorrow the tabloids are going to have a field day. God! Get me inside! There’s a film crew heading down here, all lenses aimed at me,’ Freya shrieked and she ducked behind Emma and began to walk backwards into the restaurant, pulling Emma with her.
‘My baby is going to have a celebrity godmother,’ Emma announced as she let herself be moved along by Freya.
‘Godmother?’ Freya said.
‘If you want to. I can’t think of anyone better to guide my baby along life’s path,’ Emma told her as Freya ducked behind a plant.
‘I would be completely honoured but are you sure? I mean, what with everything,’ Freya said crouching down behind one of the restaurant tables.
‘Everything as you put it is nothing. We’ve been best friends forever, who else am I going to ask?’ Emma asked as Freya started to crawl along the floor towards the kitchen, keeping an eye on the camera crew.
‘Someone who hasn’t been in clink?’ Freya suggested.
‘Experiences enrich people. A godmother needs to have led a varied life to be able to counsel and advise,’ Emma insisted.
‘Then that’s me. Varied life, photographer, ex-con, appearance in The Daily News. Christ, they’re coming in, I’ll come out when they’ve gone,’ Freya exclaimed and she hurried into the kitchen, nearly bowling over Yiannis and Mrs Petroholis in the process.
Twenty Seven
It was a little after 5.00pm when Freya arrived at Villa Kamia wearing the apron and headscarf she’d borrowed from the restaurant to disguise herself. It had been a hectic day trying to avoid the cameras and she hadn’t wanted to take any chances in being spotted now.
‘Have you come to cook for me?’ Nicholas enquired, looking in amusement at her outfit as he opened the door.
‘You’re not funny! This is what hanging around with you has lowered me to,’ Freya spoke, taking off the headscarf and hitting him on the arm with it.
‘They’ve gone from outside for now. I sent Mikey out in the car and they chased it down the road,’ Nicholas told her and he leant forward and kissed her lightly on the lips.
‘Haven’t they learnt anything?’ Freya asked him.
‘Don’t knock it. At least we have a bit of privacy,’ Nicholas replied.
‘Yes we do. So, where shall I take you?’ Freya enquired suggestively and she produced Claude from her bag.
‘I thought outside but you’re in charge. I’ll let you decide,’ Nicholas told her.
‘Fine, but no funny business. This is a professional shoot and I expect you to be professional,’ Freya warned him.
‘I love it when you boss me around,’ Nicholas replied with a smile.
Freya entered the house and followed Nicholas through the rooms and out onto the patio at the back of the villa.
‘Want a drink?’ he offered as he picked up a bottle of wine from the large, glass, garden table.
‘Mmm, well usually I don’t drink while I’m working, but I would hate for you to have to drink the entire bottle alone,’ Freya responded as she sat on the edge of the sun lounger and began to fiddle with the settings on her camera.
‘You’re always thinking of me, it’s sweet – here,’ Nicholas said and he passed her a full glass.
‘Thanks,’ Freya replied and she took a sip of the cool liquid. It was just what she needed.
She looked up at Nicholas, taking in what he was wearing, how he looked and the position of the sun. It was something she did every day but this time it felt different. Her subject meant a lot to her. She swallowed and tried to compose herself.
‘OK. Unbutton your shirt and lose the shorts,’ Freya told him as she stood up and began moving furniture around the patio.
‘You’re direct. I like that,’ Nicholas replied, smiling as he began to undo his shirt.
‘I’m a professional. You’re paying me remember and I’m going to give you some quality photographs. So less of the glamour model and more of the real you,’ Freya told him.
She couldn’t help but watch as he unbuttoned his top and took off his shorts. He stood in black Calvin Klein jockey shorts with his shirt open and Freya had to bite her lip to remain focussed. This was going to be a difficult assignment.
‘Over there, by the gate. Just pretend I’m not here. I want you looking out at the ocean,’ Freya said, indicating where she wanted Nicholas to stand.
‘Just looking at the sea? You don’t want me to do anything else?’ Nicholas asked her.
‘Nothing else, just look out to sea. Clear your mind of me with the camera and just focus on the horizon and what that brings to mind. Pretend I’m not here,’ Freya ordered him as she got herself into position.
‘OK,’ Nicholas agreed and he turned to face the sea.
Freya took a deep breath and watched him. She saw him close his eyes and then refocus. She was so intent in watching him she almost forgot what she was supposed to be doing. She put her camera to her eye and looked at him through the viewfinder.
He had an amazing presence. His height, his stature, the way he held himself so statuesque. It was no wonder the camera loved him. Freya moved to the side of him, taking photographs of his profile, then to the front, from an angle, focussing on his face, the great bone structure he had, the firm jaw.
He looked wrapped up in his thoughts as Freya continued to photograph him. He had huge eyes which seemed now to be full of thoughts. Large, deep blue eyes with those almost never ending eyelashes.
‘And now, look straight at the camera. Don’t smile, just look,’ Freya ordered, not removing the camera from her face as Nicholas turned to her.
She looked at him through the camera, his open shirt, his expression full of reticence. Freya wondered what he was thinking of. She took more pictures. She eventually took the camera away from her face and smiled at him.
‘And relax - how was that?’ Freya asked him.
‘Different, a bit strange. It was weird not smiling,’ Nicholas replied.
‘I’m sure you have thousands of photos of you smiling,’ Freya reminded him.
‘Yes I do - so what next?’ Nicholas asked her.
‘By the pool I think,’ Freya told him and pointed in the direction of the swimming pool and the side she wanted him to stand.
She watched as he walked over to the side of the pool. Freya positioned herself across the pool opposite him and checked the scene through her camera.
‘You want these photos to be intimate yes? Explicit?’ Freya asked him.
‘Yes,’ Nicholas agreed.
‘Then you’d better take off your clothes,’ Freya said with a nervous swallow.
‘OK.’
He undid the button of his shirt and took it off, tossing it towards the sun lounger.
Freya tried to busy herself choosing options on the camera, but she couldn’t help but look at him. She noticed he was hesitating, his breathing rapid. He seemed nervous.
‘Are you sure you want to? I mean we don’t have to do this we could…’ Freya began, trying to ease the tension that had developed.
‘It’s OK. I have to do this. It’s fine,’ Nicholas responded.
He pulled down his underwear and discarded it. He stood at the edge of the pool, completely naked and Freya’s breath caught in her throat. She had photographed nudes before, at college, but this was completely different. She hadn’t quite expected the sight of him to affect her so much.
‘Um, I, er - I want you to assume the pose like you’re going to dive into the pool. Arms up straight, palms together, tension in the torso and legs, slightly up on your toes,’ Freya told him, turning her face away from him.
‘Like this?’ Nicholas asked as he adopted the exact pose.
Freya turned back to face him and saw he had done exactly what she’d asked him to do.
‘Yeah, like that,’ Freya answered and she put her camera up to her face and began to photograph him.
She was sweating. She could feel the beads appearing on her forehead. She moved around the pool taking his image from various angles, trying to treat him as just a subject, but feeling something quite different.
‘So have you taken many pictures of naked men?’ Nicholas asked her.
‘Some. Most of them were over sixty. Keep still for a minute,’ Freya ordered as she walked towards him, zooming in.
‘Sorry. It’s just I think I need a cold shower or to get in the pool,’ Nicholas admitted.
‘Oh OK, well you can get in the pool in a second - just look at me now,’ Freya said, moving closer to him.
Nicholas reached out and took hold of her hand.
‘Put the camera down,’ he urged.
‘I said we had to be professional about this. This is a proper photo shoot you’re paying good money for,’ Freya spoke, trying to ignore the fact that his body was just inches away from her and he was naked.
‘Look at me Freya,’ Nicholas spoke in barely more than a whisper.
‘I am looking at you and I’m getting some great shots,’ Freya answered.
‘Not through there. Put Claude down for a second,’ Nicholas repeated and he took the camera from her.
‘We haven’t finished yet,’ Freya told him, feeling slightly uncomfortable.
‘Why don’t you take your clothes off?’ Nicholas suggested, running his hand down her arm.
‘Oh I don’t think I make as good a physical specimen as you do,’ Freya answered with a nervous laugh.
‘Why don’t you let me be the judge of that,’ Nicholas suggested, holding both of her hands and looking at her intently.
She closed her eyes and swallowed, feeling the warmth of his hands in hers. She became almost light-headed as she felt him unbutton her top. She trembled as he loosened her bra and removed it from her shoulders.
‘You are beautiful Freya,’ Nicholas spoke as he looked at her.
Freya shook as she looked back at him, her top bare, her nipples unforgiving in their obvious, aroused state. She put her arms around him and drew him close to her, feeling the firmness of his body against her.
She kissed him roughly, unable to stop herself from wanting him any longer. With one quick movement he picked her up, almost effortlessly, and unspeaking, carried her into the villa.
Twenty Eight
He had taken her to the master bedroom and laid her on the bed that was covered in soft cushions and throws. Freya had looked up at him, bent over her, nude, breathing erratically and she had felt something inside her quake with anticipation. She had realised that she could have laid there and looked at him forever.
He had kissed her from head to toe, his mouth covering every part of her body, his lips tasting every inch of skin. Freya had never experienced such torturous pleasure.
She remembered now, closing her eyes, how he had pulled her towards him until he was inside her and it had taken her breath away. She had clung to him, wanting to pull him deeper and deeper into her. She had kissed his face, his neck, his broad shoulders, his chest and his stomach. She had felt him shudder as she had moved her mouth lower, moistening every part of him until he could bear no more.
He had made her feel like she was going to burst with emotion as they made love. Her hair had been damp, she had felt hot all over, yet she had shivered with satisfaction. She had felt his heart quicken as she held him tightly to her and then all of a sudden her whole body had been filled with a wave of emotion so powerful it made her feel like she has having the nicest of heart attacks.
She hadn’t been able to move or breathe. She had lost control and had let out a cry of delicious anguish as the wave rolled over her like a giant tsunami. She had felt delirious; her head had felt like she was drunk, like a huge ball of candyfloss, unable to function properly.
Now, lying in Nicholas’ arms, it all seemed like a wonderful dream or a film scene she was replaying, like watching someone else playing her part.
Freya turned to look at him to make sure it was real. He ran his hand through her hair and then ran a finger over her lips. She took hold of his hand and kissed it.
‘So these other naked men you’ve photographed - have you ended up in bed with any of them?’ Nicholas asked her.
‘Um, one or two. I’m sorry, were you supposed to be
my first?’ Freya answered with a grin.
Nicholas propped himself up, his head resting on his hand, elbow on his pillow, looking at her.
‘You’re my first,’ he spoke seriously. ‘In a way.’
‘What do you mean?’ Freya enquired.
‘I haven’t slept with anyone since the surgery,’ Nicholas told her.
Freya looked at him and saw the emotion in his face. She leant forward and kissed his mouth tenderly. She ran her hand through his hair and down his cheek. There was no need to say anything. She knew what it had meant to him.
‘I keep wanting to pinch you to check you’re real,’ Freya admitted to him.
‘I feel the same. I keep thinking what if I’d turned down this movie or it had been set on another Greek island. We might never have met,’ Nicholas said, taking her hand in his.
‘I’m scared Nick,’ Freya said suddenly, as an anxious feeling rose in her.
‘There’s nothing to be scared of. I really want this to be the start of something real, something serious. I don’t know how we’re going to sort out the logistics of it all, but I really want to try,’ Nicholas told her.
‘I don’t know what to say. Everything’s happened so fast,’ Freya spoke with a sigh.
‘Yeah I know. But I’m a great believer that if something feels right you shouldn’t let the grass grow. Life’s too short,’ Nicholas replied.
‘I know. It’s just so much has happened to me in the past week and I know that if we’re together, people are going to scrutinise me and us. Particularly in the light of my true identity becoming public knowledge,’ Freya said.
‘But I’ve told you, I don’t care about any of that. Let people scrutinise, let them say what they want, none of them matter,’ Nicholas insisted.
‘I just don’t want to let you down. You know me, the way I am. I’m not sure I can let comments run off me,’ Freya told him.
‘You mean if someone hollers “Freya hey, over here, how did prison affect you?” or “Freya, is it true that you’ve helped Nicholas in providing background and insights for his next role as a man on death row” you might turn around and punch out the journalist instead of just smiling for the camera?’ Nicholas asked her.