by Mandy Baggot
‘Yes and I’m supposed to be going, but I’m in two minds. I don’t know whether it’s me,’ Freya told her.
‘I no understand. What isn’t you? The party? The handsome man?’ Agatha queried with a furrowed brow.
‘No, both those things are very me. I don’t know, I’m just having second thoughts about certain things,’ Freya responded.
‘Life is too short to think twice about things. Always think about things with your heart, the brain it is not always working right, but the heart - it never fails you,’ Agatha assured her.
‘You really believe that?’ Freya wanted to know, looking seriously at the shop owner.
‘Yes I do,’ Agatha answered sincerely.
Freya took a deep breath and thought about Nicholas and how much he was starting to mean to her. Was their relationship something she could just give up on before it had really been given a chance?
‘God Agatha I need a dress for this party tonight. It’s got to look fantastic, it’s got to make me look somewhere near fantastic. I’m sorry it’s short notice,’ Freya exclaimed hurriedly.
‘Come in. I have the perfect thing,’ Agatha answered with a smile and she pushed open the door of the shop and ushered Freya inside.
Thirty
At 5.30pm that evening Freya grimaced as Emma put another grip into her hair. She flinched and yelped as it pinched her scalp.
They were in Freya’s room at the Calypso Apartments getting her ready for the party. To add to the suspense, the full length mirror had been covered by a sheet until the transformation was complete.
‘Oh Freya, keep still! I’m nearly done, just a couple more,’ Emma said as she carried on doing Freya’s hair.
‘You aren’t giving me a beehive are you?’ Freya questioned.
‘Yes of course I am. Seeing as you’re going to be on the front pages of the papers tomorrow I thought you could make a style statement,’ Emma replied.
‘I think I’ve made enough statements for a while,’ Freya answered with a sigh.
‘There, I’m done. Now hurry up, go and get this dress on and I’ll uncover the mirror,’ Emma urged.
‘OK,’ Freya agreed and she disappeared into the bathroom.
‘They were filming in the harbour again today. The whole place was cordoned off and there were guns and explosions - it was quite a show,’ Emma told her as she cleared away her hair brushes, tongs and grips.
‘Nick said they were going to blow up a boat,’ Freya called back to her.
‘Not his boat?’ Emma queried.
‘No, not his boat. A much cheaper one I hope - OK, here I come,’ Freya said.
She opened the bathroom door and stepped out into the room.
She was wearing a cobalt blue, knee-length dress. It had a sash detail around the waist and a v-neck shape.
Freya turned around and showed off the back. It was bare, apart from the twisted criss-cross of the straps which ran from the bottom of her back to her neck. With it she wore gold, high-heeled sandals.
She looked at Emma. Her friend was sat motionless and completely silent.
‘Well? Unveil the mirror, I want to see what you’ve done to my hair,’ Freya ordered.
‘Freya, you look - beautiful - really beautiful,’ Emma told her, standing up and going over to the mirror to remove the sheet.
Freya stood in front of the mirror and looked at her reflection. She could hardly believe she was looking at herself. Her blonde hair was pinned back from her face, a diamante clip holding the front in place. The back was knotted in a perfect twist with another diamante clip holding it in position.
The dress emphasised her bust in all the right ways, skimmed over her stomach and the sash detail detracted attention from her width. The cut of the material meant that the dress hung in such a way that it actually elongated her. She looked almost slim! How could one dress manage that?
‘Agatha is a genius isn’t she?’ Freya remarked as she turned from side to side, admiring herself.
‘You look fantastic Freya, I could cry,’ Emma announced, tears filling her eyes.
‘Those hormones of yours have a lot to answer for - what’s the time?’ Freya asked, noticing her watch wasn’t on her arm.
‘It’s quarter to six. What time are you being picked up?’ Emma enquired.
‘Six o’ clock. We’re meeting the helicopter outside the village. It’s going to land in one of the fields near to Nikos Supermarket. It was the only place it could set down. God, I can’t believe I just said ‘helicopter’ like it was getting a taxi or something. I’ve never been in a helicopter before; do you think it’s safe?’ Freya asked, picking up her watch and strapping it to her wrist.
‘Probably a hundred times safer than driving on Greek roads. So, are you all set? Got everything packed?’ Emma questioned, indicating Freya’s overnight bag.
‘Well it’s only one night. I’ve got a change of clothes, Claude, my toiletries, what more does a girl need when she’s staying in the penthouse suite?’ Freya asked with a smile.
‘I know what sort of freebies those places have. I’ll have any expensive products going,’ Emma requested.
‘I’m hoping for a new bathrobe,’ Freya replied.
Emma laughed and then threw her arms around her friend, hugging her tightly.
‘I’ve never seen you look so happy Freya, enjoy every minute tonight,’ Emma ordered her.
‘Well I’m looking forward to the hotel and the meal but the photographers - well I’ll just have to deal with them,’ Freya spoke with a deep breath.
‘There’s nothing to be worried about any more. The press will soon get bored of your story when the next bit of scandal comes along,’ Emma assured, holding Freya’s arms.
‘Yeah I know. It just brought it all back you know, my parents, prison - especially prison,’ Freya spoke, her thoughts drifting back.
‘It’s over now, for good. No one’s going to think any differently of you. You didn’t deserve to go to prison,’ Emma told her.
‘Mrs P looked at me differently today. She tried to be the same with me, but I saw something in her eyes. I’m sure it was disappointment,’ Freya spoke.
‘The only look in her eyes at the moment is fear at having me as her daughter-in-law sooner than she anticipated,’ Emma said with a smile.
‘How soon? Does this mean you’ve set a date?’ Freya asked excitedly.
Emma nodded.
‘Oh Em, when? Tell me.’
‘Twenty second of September. We’re getting married in Our Lady of Kassiopi which, as you know, is Greek Orthodox, so that pleases Mr and Mrs P. Then we’re having a blessing on the beach by my C of E vicar from home, with a traditional Greek band and dancers and I’m thinking of having a big marquee down at the harbour somehow and inviting the whole village,’ Emma told her.
‘That sounds perfect,’ Freya agreed with a smile.
‘It wouldn’t be happening without you,’ Emma said.
‘Yes it would. Yiannis adores you; I just provided the means to ensure Baby P was legitimate. I couldn’t let the poor kid be born out of wedlock,’ Freya joked.
Emma laughed and then Freya’s mobile phone began to ring from inside her handbag, distracting them. Freya hurriedly rifled through it to answer it. She saw from the display that it was her mother.
‘It’s my mother,’ Freya said out loud as the phone rang in her hand.
‘God what does she want? She has a nerve. Don’t answer it,’ Emma spoke, not wanting her friend’s night to be spoiled in any way.
‘I want to know what she’s got to say, I’m intrigued - hello,’ Freya answered, putting the phone to her ear.
‘Jane, oh good, you answered. I didn’t know whether you would, in the circumstances.’
‘Mother, please don’t call me that name. I take it you’ve read the press today and you now know you’ve been sleeping with my ex-boyfriend.’
‘Er, yes. I don’t know quite what to say about that. It all seems quite trivial compa
red to everything else.’
‘Does it? Well Russell didn’t mention your sordid little frisson in the article, so I’m sure you won’t lose clients over it,’ Freya spoke.
‘I’ve had your father on the phone today. I think he’s been rather bombarded by the press.’
‘Am I supposed to feel concern?’
‘Jane, he’s furious with you. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him this angry.’
‘Again, am I supposed to feel concern? It isn’t my fault that this has all come out. You were the one who shagged Russell, which led him to finding out about me which, in turn, led me to have to admit to being related to that man. It isn’t something I’m proud of; it isn’t something I boast about.’
‘Some of the stories in the article were very descriptive Jane - unnecessarily so.’
‘Which ones in particular? The one where he beat me with his belt because my table manners were unacceptable or the one where he had Gloria the maid assaulted on her way home from work because she’d brought supper to my room when I’d been banned from eating at the dining table?’ Freya questioned.
‘I think you misunderstood your father’s intentions.’
‘Misunderstood them?! He’s a monster Mother! He sent me to prison. I was his only daughter and I was only eighteen years old,’ Freya reminded her.
‘I’m not condoning what he did back then but none of us want it brought back up again,’ Barbara stated.
‘I’m sure you want to sweep it back under the Axminster but, as I said, it was your indiscretion that led to this,’ Freya spoke.
‘Always blaming someone else aren’t you Jane? Nothing ever lies at your door does it? I mean you blame my affair for this coming out but let’s face it - if you weren’t dating Nicholas Kaden no one would be at all interested in your life,’ Barbara stated.
‘Christ! You can’t seriously think any of this is my fault!’ Freya exclaimed.
‘It was you that set fire to the house,’ Barbara reminded her.
‘Do you know something Mother? I really wish you’d both been in it,’ Freya spoke and she ended the telephone call.
Her heart was racing now and she sat down on the edge of the bed to compose herself.
‘OK?’ Emma asked tentatively.
‘Yes I’m OK. I suppose I should have expected some comment from at least one of them,’ Freya said, putting her mobile phone away in her bag.
‘Don’t let it spoil your night, neither of them are worth it,’ Emma said.
‘No, I know,’ Freya agreed.
‘Well come on, chop chop. It’s nearly six and you don’t want to keep your Prince Charming waiting,’ Emma said and she handed Freya her small holdall.
‘Do you know, I had to buy that bag today or my overnight stuff would have been taken to the penthouse suite in supermarket carriers,’ Freya told her with a smile.
‘Here, on second thoughts, let me carry it. I might get in a photo if I take it to the car,’ Emma spoke, snatching the bag back.
‘I think Roger’s meeting me at the entrance but by all means you can escort me,’ Freya said smiling.
‘Roger the big, strong, bodyguard? The real life Kevin Costner who picked me up like I was the lightest thing in the world and put me into the car before our race to the hospital?’ Emma stated.
‘That’s the one,’ Freya replied.
Roger was waiting for Freya at the entrance to the Calypso Apartments, chatting to Spiros to pass the time.
‘Hi Roger,’ Freya greeted.
‘Hello Freya, hello Emma,’ Roger spoke with a smile.
‘Hi,’ Emma replied.
The black Mercedes was waiting down the alleyway with a crowd of people around the car, some tourists, some photographers and even some locals who Freya recognised as working in the bars.
As soon as the crowd saw that Freya had appeared, all attention was diverted from the car to her. There was an automatic surge and suddenly it was pandemonium.
‘Bloody Hell! I didn’t realise it was going to be like this,’ Emma exclaimed as she was jostled about by people trying to get to Freya.
‘Look, go back inside. I don’t want you and Baby P getting pushed about. I’ll see you tomorrow with the hotel freebies,’ Freya said, taking the holdall from her friend.
‘OK. Have a fantastic time!’ Emma called and she watched as Freya and Roger got into the car.
Thirty One
A few minutes later the car pulled up alongside a black BELL430 twin turbine helicopter in a field just outside the village centre.
Freya and Roger got out of the car and Nicholas, dressed in a tuxedo, hurried to meet them.
‘Hi,’ he greeted Freya, taking hold of both her hands and admiring her.
‘Hi,’ she responded.
‘You look amazing,’ he said, bringing her hands to his mouth and kissing them.
‘And you’ve scrubbed up quite well too,’ Freya replied, taking in just how handsome he actually was.
‘And so has Roger don’t you think? Look at you man, you look dandy,’ Nicholas commented, pointing out his bodyguard’s smart attire.
‘I’ve already complimented Roger on his appearance tonight and he on mine,’ Freya informed him.
‘Hmm, I think I might have to watch you two. Too much mutual appreciation going on,’ Nicholas joked.
‘We share an admiration of Bruce Willis movies,’ Roger informed Nicholas.
‘Damn that guy! I’m starting to wish I was him,’ Nicholas responded as Freya laughed.
‘We’d better be going. We don’t want to hit traffic at the other end,’ Roger told Nicholas as he checked his watch.
‘You’re right. So, are you ready?’ Nicholas asked Freya.
‘Yes,’ she replied.
‘Then let’s go.’
He held Freya’s hand and they made their way towards the helicopter.
‘I have to do some interviews tonight, after the dinner,’ Nicholas spoke to Freya as they soared over the ocean.
‘Oh, OK,’ Freya answered, a little disappointed.
‘But, what I thought you might like to do was take some photos in Athens. So I’ve arranged for the driver to take you around the city, wherever you want. You have brought Claude with you haven’t you?’ Nicholas asked her.
‘Claude has not left my side since he came into my life,’ Freya replied.
‘Good, well I thought it would be better than just waiting around or going back to the hotel on your own. I hear the Parthenon at night is really something,’ Nicholas told her.
‘That would be good,’ Freya agreed.
Greece from the air was just as picturesque as from the ground. The whole ride was exhilarating and completely different from the flight experienced from an aeroplane. Freya felt more vulnerable in the helicopter but it was also exciting because it somehow felt that you were much closer to everything. It was like floating in a metal bubble.
They landed on the helipad of the Athens Palace just over thirty minutes after leaving Kassiopi. Martha was there to greet them.
She avoided eye contact with Freya and spoke directly with Nicholas.
‘The car is waiting, this way. How was the flight?’ Martha spoke, taking Nicholas’ bag from him and leading them towards the roof exit.
‘Good thanks. We enjoyed it didn’t we Freya? Here, let me take that,’ Nicholas spoke and he took Freya’s holdall from her.
‘Yes it was fun,’ Freya answered.
‘Good. Right, the itinerary is as follows - we go now to the Plaza Hall. There is no more than an hour for meet and greet outside, the dinner starts at eight thirty and afterwards there are scheduled interviews with Film Today, The News and Entertainment Now,’ Martha reeled off as the group descended the stairs and headed for the lift.
‘OK fine. Listen, I’ll try not to be too long doing the interviews because I hear the penthouse has a waterbed,’ Nicholas whispered to Freya.
‘But does it have a complimentary bathrobe?’ Freya questioned.
‘My God! You take the towels? That’s stealing,’ Freya exclaimed in mock horror.
‘I figured they were gifts. I took one, another appeared on my bed the next day, I didn’t want to offend,’ Nicholas responded.
‘You shock me! You are a towel thief!’ Freya spoke loudly.
‘Do you mind? We are trying to run through the evening’s proceedings,’ Martha reminded them.
They left the hotel by the back entrance and got straight into the car that was waiting for them. Martha left them at this point and Roger got into the front of the car with the driver.
‘How’s Martha getting to the venue? Broomstick?’ Freya questioned, turning to face Nicholas.
‘I believe she has the deluxe model,’ Nicholas replied.
‘I think my humour’s lost on her,’ Freya spoke.
‘She likes routines and itineraries, that’s the way she works. She is good at her job,’ Nicholas told her.
‘Yes, she certainly is devoted to the cause,’ Freya agreed.
‘Is everything OK?’ Nicholas asked, taking hold of her hand.
‘Yes fine. Well…actually my mother called me just before I left tonight,’ Freya admitted.
‘And what did she have to say?’ Nicholas questioned.
‘Oh nothing really. Just said how annoyed my father is with me - about the story being headline news and how all of this is my fault,’ Freya told him.
‘Are you serious?’ Nicholas asked her.
‘It was what I should have expected. It just unsettled me that’s all,’ Freya admitted.
‘Do you want a drink?’ Nicholas asked, opening the mini bar.
Freya nodded.
Nicholas poured them both brandies and handed Freya one of the glasses.
‘You know, I can’t help thinking that I’m ultimately to blame for your past coming out,’ Nicholas told her as he took a sip of his drink.