A Year Like No Other

by Pauline Lawless

  They were all there the following day. Even Felicity had taken a day off from her cookery course. They hugged Sophie and shook hands with her parents as they filed into the seats behind them. They were shocked to see how haggard Yves looked when he was brought into the court.

  He had aged ten years since they’d last seen him. He looked dishevelled and unshaven and gone was the swagger that they were used to. They all felt sorry for him although they were also angry with him. To Jazz he seemed like a stranger, not the man she had made love to and who was the father of her unborn child. Ashling was holding her hand but she needn’t have. Jazz felt nothing for him but contempt.

  It was over quickly. The prosecution stated that he had borrowed bank funds to invest in the stock market and, instead of making a fortune, as he had hoped, he had lost it all. He had acted from greed, as had so many others in the banking world before him. This was nothing new to the four bankers present. They’d all come across this before.

  Yves was sentenced to one year in prison and Sophie let out a cry and called his name when she heard it. He looked up at her then, for the first time, and the look in his eyes was heartbreaking. It was full of remorse and regret and love. His shoulders were slumped and he gave her one more look as he was led from the court. Sophie’s father and brother had their arms around her, supporting her, as the others pressed forward to sympathise with her.

  Brandon hugged her. “He’ll be out in six months, I’m sure,” he whispered to her.

  “You think so?” she asked, hope in her eyes.

  “Yes, they never have to serve the full sentence.”

  She thanked them all for being there as they hugged her and then she was led away by her father and brother who had to practically carry her. They tried to shield her from the cameras that were flashing like mad outside the courthouse.

  It was a very subdued gathering that adjourned to a local café for lunch.

  “You know it could have happened to any of us,” Kieran remarked.

  “I have a couple of friends who did the same thing and got away with it,” Max admitted. “They’re filthy rich now,” he grimaced.

  “Sure, the temptation is always there,” Jazz agreed.

  “But there are risks, we all know that,” Brandon replied. “Yves decided to take those risks.”

  “Well, he’s paying for it now,” Ashling said sadly.

  They all nodded their heads in agreement.

  Brandon and Kieran were called into the French Finance Minister’s office the following day. There were two other officers present. Monsieur Fournier, the Minister, informed them that they had decided not to replace Yves. Brandon heard the sympathy in the Minister’s voice when he spoke Yves’s name.

  He asked them if they felt that together they could take over the project and run it alone. Kieran thought about it for ten seconds and then replied that, due to family commitments, he didn’t think that he could take on any more responsibilities. Brandon looked at him sympathetically. He knew that Ashling had been unhappy with the hours that Kieran had been putting in. Since Christmas, she’d told him happily, Kieran had cut back and was spending more time with his family. Brandon was pleased to hear that.

  “I have no problem taking over,” he said, to the relief of all the others. Kieran, in particular, looked relieved and winked his gratitude to him. Why not, Brandon thought, I have damn all else to do with my time. Why not work?

  On Thursday, Brandon visited Chantal to find that she was still very upset about Yves’s imprisonment.

  “I sorry, but tonight is last night with you,” she murmured, crying softly. Apparently, now that Yves was gone, she no longer had a job. She had asked for a transfer to Caen, which they’d happily agreed to.

  “My ’usband and me ’ave decide to ’ave baby, so I cannot see you no more,” she said sadly, still crying softly.

  He held her gently as she wept, sorry that it was over between them but knowing that it was inevitable. They made love one more time before they parted forever. Now he really was alone.

  47

  Ashling and Sophie had become even closer since Yves went into prison. She had Pierre around often to play with the girls and he and Sophie joined them regularly on their weekend jaunts. Sophie was now visiting Yves weekly and confided to Ashling that he had become a changed man. He regretted deeply the pain he had caused her and vowed to make it up to her when he came out. “Maybe this is the best thing that could have happened,” she said to Ashling. “We’ll start again afresh and no more ‘open marriage’ for me.”

  Jazz had also showered Sophie with kindness since the episode and called regularly to visit her, always bringing some toy or goody for Pierre, whom she had come to adore. Tante Jazz, he called her. She was delighted that he considered her his aunt. She hoped and prayed that Sophie would never learn of her liaison with Yves.

  Jazz worried constantly about the decisions that she would have to make pretty soon. Should she resign from the project once she could hide her pregnancy no longer and go back to Munich? Could she lie to Yves and say the baby wasn’t his? She knew this would be a dreadful thing to do but she suspected Yves might prefer to believe this rather than wreck the fresh start to his marriage that he had promised Sophie.

  It was a mess! The only sure thing she knew was that she was going to keep this baby.

  Now that she and Brandon were neighbours, they met up often in the evenings and she cooked dinner for him regularly. They had become close friends and on Valentine’s Night he invited her out for a special meal. To his delight his divorce had come through that day and he was now a free man.

  He ordered champagne in the restaurant to celebrate. To his surprise Jazz took just a small glass, which she barely sipped, and then refused to have any wine. He said nothing but as he was having a brandy in her apartment later that night and she was having only a diet coke, he said, “I notice you’re not drinking alcohol any more. Is there something you want to tell me?”

  She looked away from him.

  “Come here!” he said, patting the sofa.

  She came and sat down beside him and he put his arm around her.

  “You can tell me,” he said gently. “I’m your friend and your secret will be safe with me.”

  He saw the tears welling up in her beautiful brown eyes.

  “I’m pregnant,” she whispered.

  “Yves?”

  “Yes,” she murmured, as a tear slid slowly down her face.

  He brushed it away. “What are you going to do?”

  “I haven’t decided yet but I know I could never get rid of it. It’s a little person already,” she added as she unconsciously laid her hands on her tummy.

  Brandon sighed. “Does Yves know?”

  Her head shot up and she gave him a look of panic. “No, and I don’t want him to know.”

  “Well, it’s your decision but I think you’ll have to tell him eventually.” He sighed. “Anyway, whatever you decide, I’ll be here for you.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered. She laid her head on his shoulder, grateful for his presence and his support.

  It didn’t take Ashling long either to suss out the fact that Jazz was pregnant. She had drunk no alcohol at their girls’ night and Ashling noticed that she had gained a little weight around the midriff. No doubt about it! She knew it could only be Yves’s baby. God, what a mess! She wondered what Jazz was going to do about it but she didn’t like to say anything until Jazz confided in her.

  She didn’t have long to wonder. Jazz rang and asked her to call around the following night. Over coffee she broke the news.

  “I’m pregnant,” she whispered, her voice emotional.

  “I thought as much,” Ashling replied, giving her a hug. “How do you feel about it?”

  “I don’t know. I’m so confused. One minute I’m up in the air and the next minute I’m down in the dumps.”

  “I take it it’s Yves’s baby?”

  “Of course.”

  “T
hat makes it a bit complicated, I suppose,” Ashling said gently.

  “I know I couldn’t have an abortion, so I’ll have it but whether I leave Paris and return home early – or stay on here, that’s my dilemma.” She looked wretchedly at her friend.

  “Well, you have a little time to decide,” Ashling said, wishing that she could do something to help.

  “Brandon has been a rock. I don’t know what I would have done without him.”

  Ashling was aware that Brandon and Jazz had become very close and she was happy that Jazz could rely on his support. She herself had become very fond of him and had come to see what a good, kind person he was. She often invited him around to dinner with Jazz. He seemed much more relaxed now that his divorce had come through and Taylor was off the scene.

  Ashling received her contract from the publishers in late February and as she had no agent and neither she nor Kieran had any legal knowledge, she took Corey’s advice and joined The Society of Authors in London. They looked over the contract for her and advised her on some minor changes. She was very excited about the whole thing and everyone was delighted for her.

  She was still going to Les Deux Magots three times a week and had started writing a children’s book, something she’d always wanted to do. God knows, she’d read enough stories to the girls in the past few years to know exactly what was required. Her little daughters were the inspiration for it and the story was of two little girls who travelled around the world with their parents. She hoped to show the magic of exotic places, as seen through the eyes of children, to all those children who never did get to travel. She hoped to have it finished by May when she would have to do the editing on her first book, but meanwhile she felt a need to write every day. She loved it.

  Corey was a regular visitor for lunch and dinner at her home. Kieran and he had become good friends and often had long, deep conversations together as Ashling prepared a meal for them all. The girls absolutely adored him and he never arrived without his arms full of presents for them. She often included Sophie and Pierre in these invitations and was delighted that Sophie and Corey seemed to get on so well together. Sophie was doing well, considering the situation she was in, and was ‘standing by her man’, much to her credit.

  Brandon, Max and Kieran had all offered to go and visit him in prison but she informed them that, for the moment, Yves did not want to see them. He also forbade her to bring Pierre to visit. Although he was pining for his son, he did not want the little boy to know his father was in prison. He insisted that Sophie tell their son that he had gone away on a business trip.

  The four women still met regularly for girls’ nights out and if Sophie and Felicity noticed that Jazz wasn’t drinking, they never passed a comment.

  Jazz felt the first cramps in the morning. They got steadily worse as the day wore on and by lunchtime she told Brandon that she would have to go home. She looked wretched and he was very concerned about her. He offered to take her home but she assured him that she could manage so he called her a taxi and saw her into it.

  When she got home she made a coffee and then curled up in bed with a hot-water-bottle held to her stomach. She dozed off and woke to feel the wetness between her legs. With a sinking heart she suspected what was happening. Dragging herself to the bathroom she was shocked at the amount of blood she seemed to be losing. She realised that she’d have to call for help. She rang Ashling but only got her voicemail. Scared and frightened, she then called Brandon who insisted that she call for an ambulance immediately.

  “Please ring me when you find out where they’re taking you and I’ll come straight away.” He knew she was frightened and she had nobody else to support her.

  The ambulance came very quickly and within five minutes she was on her way to the hospital. She rang Brandon, as she’d promised, and was grateful that he would be by her side.

  The pain was pretty dreadful but they could not give her anything for it. The nurse who was in the ambulance with her tried to reassure her but Jazz sensed that she was just doing her job.

  The next hour passed in a blur as the hospital staff buzzed around her. Jazz tried to think positive thoughts and prayed like she’d never prayed before but it was to no avail. Eventually, a very nice doctor came to her and told her that, as she’d suspected, she’d lost the baby. She was devastated and felt a great sense of loss. They did a D&C on her then and, a little woozy from the local anaesthetic, she came out of the theatre to see Brandon waiting for her, a concerned look on his face. He stayed by her bedside, holding her hand and wiping her face, until they told her she could go home. The doctors and nurses obviously thought that he was the father. He didn’t disillusion them.

  He put her to bed and brought her a hot chocolate, insisting that he would stay the night in the guest room. She was grateful for that as she didn’t want to be alone. She cried herself to sleep and woke the following morning with a feeling of dread in her stomach. She wanted to go to work but Brandon insisted that she stay home. He rang Ashling and explained what had happened and she came straight to Jazz’s apartment after dropping the girls to school. She was shocked at how pale and drawn Jazz looked.

  “I really wanted this baby,” Jazz told her, her eyes filling with tears. “Now, I’ll probably never have a child.” The tears started to flow. “Sorry,” she sniffled, as Ashling handed her a tissue.

  “Cry as much as you want,” Ashling said gently, cradling Jazz in her arms. “It’s important to grieve for this baby. And of course you can still have a child. You’re still young.”

  “I’ll be thirty-six in two months’ time,” she sobbed, blowing her nose. “And I don’t even have a prospective father in sight.”

  Ashling held her and let her cry on. She made lunch for them both and was pleased to see that Jazz ate it and looked much better than she had that morning. She made her lie down for a rest before she left to go to collect the girls from school, happy that Jazz was on the mend, physically at least. How long it would take her heart to mend – that was another story.

  48

  Brandon was surprised by how concerned Marilyn was about Taylor. She rang often and in early March rang to say she was going to the States and would like Taylor’s address. He rang Bob in New York to see if he knew whether Taylor was still at the same place.

  “She sure is. Dylan’s family have been in touch with me. They want him to go back into rehab but he’s refused. They’ve cut off his allowance but he’s still refusing. I guess Taylor is supporting him at the moment.”

  Brandon sighed. As part of their divorce settlement, he had given her one million dollars and an apartment which he owned in Soho and which was rented out. The rent, along with the very generous alimony he was paying her, would keep her in style but it wouldn’t go far if it was supporting two drug habits. Luckily, their apartment on the Upper East Side had been a gift from his father and was still in his father’s name, so she had no claim on that. The bulk of his family’s great wealth was tied up in trusts so that was also safe for his children. Now the news that she was supporting Dylan made Brandon appreciate his father’s astuteness with his finances. At least she couldn’t waste the twins’ legacy.

  He met Marilyn for a drink before she left and he gave her Taylor’s address. She was in fact returning to New York to have some work done on her face and body. Louis had very generously agreed to foot the bill for it all and she had booked into a clinic for liposuction, botox, a bottom tuck and an eyelid lift. She was quite frankly relieved to be getting a break away from him as he was proving to be overly possessive. Just as well Yves was in prison because she would have had no chance of meeting with him, not with Louis’s beady eyes on her every movement.

  Her heart skipped a beat when she saw Brandon sitting in the bar. He was more gorgeous than ever. She would have left Louis in a flash if she could have had a chance with him but unfortunately he didn’t seem to have any interest in her. However, perhaps when she’d had all this work done that would change. She enjoyed
his company and he was being very pleasant to her. He seemed much more relaxed since his divorce. She promised to meet up with him when she got back and bring him news of Taylor. Who knows, he might even see her in another light then. Wouldn’t that be something!

  Life for Taylor had taken a downturn. The first couple of months had been one long party but now the gloss was wearing thin and she was getting tired of the endless stream of ‘friends’ who passed through Dylan’s apartment, day and night. She had come to realise that they were more like scroungers and hangers-on, the type of sycophants who often surrounded wealthy people, pretending to be their friends.

  Catching sight of herself in the mirror one morning, in one of her more lucid moments, she wondered how she had come to this. Her skin was grey and dull, her eyes dead and her once beautifully coiffed hair now lank and lustreless. She would never dream of visiting her old hair or beauty salons, terrified of running into some of her old friends, so she mostly stayed in, living her life in a drugged haze.

  Lately however, she wasn’t getting the same buzz as before. It took more and more of the drugs mixed with ever more alcohol to make her feel good. Dylan assured her that what she really needed was heroin. It was the best feeling in the world, he insisted. She wasn’t so sure. She’d seen TV programmes about heroin addicts and it had scared her to death. She had been shocked to find that he was injecting himself daily. She hated needles although she’d succumbed to botox, but that had been administered by a professional not something she’d had to do herself. So she resisted all his attempts to introduce her to the lethal drug.

  Then there was the problem of money. Previously, he’d always agreed to go into rehab to keep the money flowing from his family but now with access to Taylor’s money he could tell them to go to hell, which he did. They responded by cutting off his allowance. He’d taken her debit card from her and hadn’t given it back. When she’d asked him for it, it had made him very angry and he’d even slapped her around a couple of times. Heroin made him very violent. Taylor was beginning to wonder if she’d made a dreadful mistake.