At some level she felt a tremor of uncertainty. Her father's words trouble her. Throughout her life he'd rarely refused her anything. His reticence on the subject of Chad was odd, to say the least. She rolled it over in her mind. What was her mother's problem? What was it about the young Australian that provoked such an adamant disapproval? Was it political? But her grasp of politics was so hazy that she abandoned the idea almost immediately.
Perhaps Chad was some sort of mafia boss. Maybe he grew secret crops of marijuana. But somehow she couldn't quite see it. And besides, her dad would never knowingly be involved with someone crooked.
Eventually she slipped into sleep. Dreams flickered and died, an unsettling hotchpotch of faces and places.
When she awoke, she pushed aside her worries. Oh my God! This was it. The day. She leapt out of bed and dressed in designer jeans, her favourite purple shirt and a long black boots. With her hair pulled into a ponytail she hastened down stairs, excited but anxious.
Thus far she had avoided a confrontation with her mother, but at the same time she didn't want to leave without saying goodbye. It was six am. To get to the airport at Heathrow in time for check in, they'd need to leave by half past at the latest. All her bags, except for her small case and handbag, were already stowed in the boot of the car. The sight of her smart leather cases cosying up to Chad's had given her a small thrill of satisfaction. Logically she deducted that first it would be her bags and then her. It was a singularly happy thought.
When she entered the room hers eyes instinctively searched for Chad. He smiled up at her, a coffee cup in hand, and nodded. His wavy brown hair curled softly upon his forehead and she longed to reach out and smooth it with a hand. Just his presence left her strangely reassured, and she met her mother's eye calmly and managed a general round of greetings.
There was undoubtedly an element of strain in the atmosphere. Her father smiled benignly over the top of his newspaper, and she felt a wave of gratitude for his unspoken support.
Her mother toyed with the piece of grapefruit in her bowl. She pursed her lips and Seraphim braced herself. She knew that look.
“Your father tells me you are going to look up Julian.”
Seraphim stared at her mother, temporarily stymied by this frontal assault. Without looking she knew that Chad's eyes were fixed upon her. Here was a pickle. To deny it would awaken her parent's suspicion but to go along with the whole pretense would give Chad entirely the wrong idea. To gain a few minutes of time she poured herself tea, making a sterling performance of adding milk and sugar before taking a sip. She set the fine china cup down. “Yes, I think I may have mentioned something about it.”
Time seemed to stop. Everything in the room seemed to sharpen. She could hear the rustle of her father's paper as he meticulously folded the awkward pages. In the fireplace she could hear the flames crackling through the coal. Above the mantelpiece a clock ticked sonorously. But above all she was aware of Chad, sitting still as a sphinx opposite her. She willed her parent to be quiet.
Her mother smiled smugly. “Well, I must say Seraphim; there was a time when I had high hopes for the two of you.”
Seraphim swallowed and dared a glance in Chad's direction. He met her eyes, but did not betray his feelings even by as much as a flicker. She turned back to her mother. “It was a long time ago.”
Everyone in the room visibly jumped as Walter Driscoll snapped his paper shut and slapped it down upon the pale pink tablecloth. “Less of the chitchat people. You youngsters had better go ready yourselves. We leave in five.”
Almost weeping with frustration, Seraphim dropped the napkin which she had been unconsciously balling up in her hands, and stood up.
In the doorway Chad paused courteously to let her pass. She managed a small smile of thanks but her heart sank when it was not returned. Instead his eyes narrowed a fraction as he nodded almost imperceptivity. His coolness pierced her like a sliver of glass.
Twelve
The mighty engine of the plane began to whine. The whine became a roar as the massive machine slowly taxied along the tarmac. It entered the runway and Heathrow became a flickering blur of grey buildings. Chad's stomach did a small flip flop as they left the earth and swooped up and away into the grey, cloudy sky.
Once airborne he opened his eyes and looked out of the small round window. Thick wreaths of cloud soon gave way to the brilliant blue beyond. He tried to ignore the steady, rhythmical thumping at the back of his chair. But it was as irritating as a dripping tap and he knew he and the kid would have words before too long.
Sitting next to him was a young woman with a baby. The baby seemed fretful, and its mother tried to sooth it in her arms. By way of response the baby's tiny face screwed up in protest and its small toothless mouth opened wide and released an ear splitting shriek.
The woman picked up the rigid little form and placed it over her shoulder and began to pat the baby's back. She glanced at Chad. “I'm sorry, he should settle soon.”
Chad certainly hoped so, but smiled reassuringly. The poor woman looked quite exhausted. Still, with the kicker behind and the screamer to his left, it looked to be a very long flight. A curtain twitched in the alley way and an air hostess appeared with a trolley. For a brief moment he had a tiny window into the first-class apartment. But of course there was no sign of Seraphim.
When he'd realised that she'd be closeted in the rarified atmosphere of first class, he wasn't sure whether he was disappointed or relieved. After the little incident at breakfast he'd been feeling out of sorts.
He knew without doubt that first kiss had been instigated by her. Although, in fairness, he'd been pretty damn thrilled. When he accompanied her out he'd no intent of pursuing her. To be honest, it'd not occurred to him that she'd be interested. She'd been politely distant all day.
But then she'd been everything he'd imagined; soft, eager and responsive. He'd been shaken by the tidal wave of longing that had enveloped him. To put a halt on his passion had been painfully difficult, but he'd sensed that he'd scare her if he came on too strong. And more than anything he didn't want to do something that might blight the new bud of their relationship.
The trolley stopped and the hostess smiled vacantly and offered a selection of drinks. He settled for a plastic cup of orange juice. Beside him the baby continued to howl; its harassed mother's eyes had taken on a glazed looked. Chad wished there was something he could do to help. But his knowledge of babies was microscopic.
Finally he put on his ear phones and switched on the small screen in front of him. This muffled the sounds to a degree but still he couldn't concentrate on the movie. He wondered what Seraphim would make of his home. How she'd cope with the dust and heat.
He felt himself relax a little. It took half a minute before he realised that the baby had finally ceased its screaming. Relieved he glanced over but his relief gave way to fascinated horror. It was like a scene from The Poltergeist as projectile vomit sprayed around him. He waited for the baby's head to swivel around like an owls but instead the mother burst into tears.
She frantically pressed her call button. Chad looked around eagerly, waiting for the cavalry to charge in and save the day. But all eyes were swiftly averted and there was not a hostie in sight. Chad cursed inwardly.
“There's some wipes in my bag,” said the sobbing woman. “It's at my feet. Can you get them for me?”
Chad dived down and dragged out a large blue nappy bag. He frantically pressed his call bell and then scrabbled around in the unfamiliar depths of the bag. The close atmosphere within the confines of the cabin had become distinctly unfriendly.
Together they tried to clean up the mess. The mother's sobs had given way to hiccups and the baby, bless him, was sleeping peacefully.
“Oh my goodness, are you all right?”
Chad looked up hopefully. There stood Seraphim, her black hair elegantly coiled at her neck, her purple blouse uncreased, her jeans vomit free.
“Baby's been a bit crook,�
�� he said.
Seraphim frowned. “Where are the hostesses?
Chad shrugged. “Gone walkabout.”
The lush mouth thinned out into an ominously straight line. The small hands rested upon the slim hips. “Have they indeed?” She about turned and marched away, a small brave figure of indignation. Chad enjoyed the pert bottom wiggling unselfconsciously beneath its denim exterior.
He grinned. Reinforcements had arrived in an unexpected form. Happy, she was gorgeous. Mad, she was as sexy as hell. He grabbed a wipe and hastily mopped at his face and hair. The smell, he'd have to live with.
He'd barely had time to finish when not one, but two hostesses scurried down the aisle like a couple of heifers with a kelpie at their tail. The mother and baby were whisked away and apologies rained upon his head like a spring shower. Hot water, flannels and soft towels were provided along with a dinky bag of toiletries. A little embarrassed by their attention he soon sent them on their way.
Seraphim settled in the vacated seat beside him. “You smell terrible.”
He grinned. “I've smelt worse.”
She gave him an incredulous look but made no comment.
Curiosity overcame him. “What did you say to those two?”
She smiled. “I mentioned that my father owns a half share in this airline. Their aversion to babies seemed to abate rapidly, don't you think?”
“Is it true?”
She flushed. “Possibly.”
He cracked up. “Do you think Seraphim is an appropriate name for you?”
She slapped him playfully and smiled. “It's your bad influence. Besides, you're no angel yourself, Mr Cherub.”
“Touché.” He wondered if she'd deliberately left her hand and wrist resting on his forearm.
The smile faded and her brow wrinkled ever so slightly. “Chad, I actually came to find you, because I needed to speak to you.” Her voice was low, and her hand tightened a little around his arm.
“What's wrong?”
Her eyes searched his out, and held him in their hypnotic gaze. In their dark centre, the pupils dilated and again he remembered the gentle, wide-eyed stare of the deer. He realised that if she asked him to chew off his left arm, he'd probably give it a damn good go.
“I just wanted to tell you… that is… I want you to know... that you should take no notice of my mother. What she said this morning about Julian… it's not true. Well, it might have been once… but it's not now.”
Chad followed this conversation with some degree of difficulty. “So, are you saying that there is nothing between you and this Julian bloke?”
She nodded and smiled. “Yes. That's exactly what I'm saying.”
“Who is he?”
“He's an old family friend. A few years ago I had a whopping great crush on him. But that's all in the past.”
He watched her carefully. He didn't know what to think. Maybe he should just take her at her word. After all, she seemed genuinely trying to make amends. But then he inwardly sighed. It was no good. He couldn't just wipe away the memory of the conversation he'd accidently overheard. That night she'd stated quite clearly her intention to see this Julian bloke when she went to Australia.
He leant forward a little, his eyes never leaving hers. “So, why did you tell your dad that seeing Julian was your main reason for this little trip?”
Her mouth made an almost comical O of surprise. She blinked and her eyes dropped to her lap. Her hand released its grip on his arm and she bought it up to her open mouth. The colour drained slowly from her face until she looked as if she'd been bleached. “Oh Chad, I'm so, so sorry.”
“So, tell me, what was that all about?”
Her small white teeth bit upon her lower lip. When she released it blood rushed vividly to the spot. She reached out a beseeching hand. It hovered between them like an invisible lifeline. “Honestly Chad, I just told Dad that to pacify him, because…” her words dried up.
“Because what?” His voice came out rough and hoarse. For of course, he already knew the answer to his own question.
She shook her head, and her eyes filled with tears, her distress plain to see. “It's because Dad said that Mum would never approve of it.”
“Of what?”
A tear seeped over the thick black lashes and meandered slowly down one pale cheek. “Of you.” Her eyes met his then. Her mouth trembled and her hand touched his chest as gently as a sigh. “Of us.”
Chad recognised that her pain and confusion were only too transparent. She truly had no idea as to the cause of her parent's antipathy toward him. He wondered why Wally hadn't simply told her. But no obvious answer came to him. He knew it was his place to explain. But somehow he just couldn't find the words.
Secretly, deep, deep down, his nerve simply failed him. For some tiny part of him feared that Seraphim might have innocently absorbed some of her mother's prejudice. He told himself that the better she knew him, the better it would be. He just needed a little more time.
Another tear rolled down her face. The two tiny globes of water seemed set upon a silent race. The last of his reserves crumbled and he reached out and enveloped her in his arms.
“Don't cry, everything will work out fine,” he reassured her.
Her dark head rested in the crook of his neck and he pressed his lips on the glossy crown of hair.
And he was lost.
Thirteen
As the plane began its descent into Dubai, the city lights lit up the dark sky like daylight. Seraphim peered across to the window, utterly aware of the man who sat beside her. As she watched the fascinating landscape below she felt as if she were witnessing a visual expression of her heart; lit up in neon lights.
“Isn't it lovely?” she said. It wasn't that she wanted an answer, but more that she delighted in being with him. She loved to watch the changing expressions on his face, to hear the rich baritone of his voice, and to bask in the warmth of his love. For she knew, without words, that he loved her. She sensed it in the softness of his kiss, and the way his eyes followed her.
“Amazing,” he agreed. He pulled her close and the city below them was forgotten.
It was the pinging of the intercom that finally caused her to surface. With regret and irritation, she knew she'd have to return to her seat.
“I had better go.”
He nodded and released her hand. “I'll see you on the next plane.”
For a moment she didn't know what he was talking about. Then she realised that of course, they wouldn't see each other at the airport.
The lights came on and people began to stir as they tidied away belongings, put up backrests and fastened seat belts. There was a general buzz of expectation in the air. Reluctantly Seraphim returned to her own seat and buckled up.
The six-hour stop-over at the airport stretched out before her like an eternity. As the plane slowly circled and began its descent she peered down the corridor hopefully, but the curtains had been snugly fastened across the entrance of the galley.
Initially she'd been surprised to find that Chad wouldn't be travelling with her. It made her realise that she'd just presumed him to be wealthy. Possibly because everyone she knew all enjoyed a credible standard of living. She wondered what else she'd gotten wrong.
One thing was for sure. Finding out was going to be just fantastic.
They landed with barely a bump. As the weary hostesses herded the passengers out, Seraphim nearly dislocated her neck trying to catch a glimpse of Chad through a window. But she couldn't work out exactly where he'd be.
Despite the late hour it was very warm but the airport itself was pleasant enough. She filled in a bit of time showering and wandering through the shops. But she felt restless. Not at all sleepy. For a few minutes she tried to work out the time in England, but gave up. What did it really matter?
At the wide windowpane she watched the planes as they landed and took off down the floodlit runway. Somewhere, probably not far away she mused, Chad may be doing the very same thing.
She sat down and picked up a magazine but her eyes refused to focus. She felt strangely charged and paced around the lounge looking for distraction. The hands of her watch seemed to have become suspended in time. Outside the window a few passengers had gathered on a wide sweep of balcony, all engaged in cigarette consumption. This triggered a sudden memory. As she had hugged her nanny goodbye, the dear lady had pressed a small silver case into her hand. “Just in case you can't sleep dear. Herbal cigarettes.”
Seraphim had never so much as held a cigarette in her life, but had accepted the gift in the spirit in which it had been given. Now she pulled out the pretty silver case and looked at the contents. She lifted them to her nose and sniffed them. They smelt all right. Perhaps she should give one a go. After all, what harm could they do? And she was feeling a little antsy.
She joined the small group in the hot, humid night air. Fishing out the slim cigarette, she realised she didn't have a light, but a young man stepped in and kindly offered.
Tentatively she placed the cigarette to her lips and gave a cautious puff. Smoke caught in the back of her throat, making her cough. Her head felt a little light. After a few seconds she regained her poise and tried again. It was truly disgusting and small shreds of something stuck to her tongue. She wondered if it would be too undignified to spit it out.
“Are you okay?”
It was the young man who had given her a light. She nodded. “Yes, thank you. I'm afraid these herbal cigarettes don't agree with me.” She picked the case out of her handbag and looked at him doubtfully. “I don't suppose you'd care for them?”
His eyes narrowed slightly as he regarded her steadily. Then he grinned broadly. “Sure, why not.”
As she went back inside she was pleased to see the young man sharing around the herbal cigarettes with a number of his friends.
Shortly after they all came in chattering like a group of sparrows. They certainly seemed very relaxed. To her surprise they joined her, spreading around on the plush leather couches and chairs. Conversation flowed and Seraphim enjoyed their easy company, even though they were a little silly at times. It certainly helped to pass the time.
A Man For All Seasons Page 8