TouchStone for giving (The Story of Us Trilogy)

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TouchStone for giving (The Story of Us Trilogy) Page 39

by Jamesson, Sydney

“Wake up baby,” he pleads, coaxing me to make sense of it.

  As time stands still I use it to look around waiting, hoping to rediscover a memory …

  I see the giant sheets, the sparkle, the petals and … the fog begins to clear. I see ladders and a

  beautiful boy with sea green eyes and he’s rescuing me from a wicked witch, and lifting me down

  from a tall tower.

  I settle my teary eyes on the pink ribbon and I’m so small. The ribbon was mine. I gave it to my

  prince for his tenth birthday. It was my best and only possession … When I raise my eyes to meet his,

  I see a single tear roll down his handsome cheek. I wipe it away with my thumb at the moment of

  realisation …

  “Saffi…”

  He nods. “Frannie. We did it baby.” I wrap my arms around his neck and he picks me up off the

  floor. People are standing. There’s applause.

  “It only took me 22 years. But I found you,” he whispers softly so no-one but me can hear.

  “Yes, you did”

  “Come on, let’s get this ring on your finger before you change your mind.”

  I’m laughing and crying with more delight than is conceivable for one person. “You too.”

  He’s shaking his head assuredly. “Oh, I’m not letting you get away from me again.”

  With rings exchanged, Ayden is free to kiss his bride. He cradles my face in both hands and kisses

  me tenderly, waking me from a sleep that has lasted 22 years.

  “I have always loved you Beth.”

  “And I’ve always loved you and the promise of you Ayden.”

  He takes my hand and the gathering surrounds us. Charlie is blowing her nose and Celine is handing

  another tissue to Sylvia. The atmosphere is charged with nervous excitement and relief. Did everyone

  but me know what was happening?

  Out of the corner of my eye I spot two unwelcome guests: Ayden’s bodyguards. Do they seriously

  think someone would try to assault him here? They’re walking towards us.

  What do they think they’re doing?

  “Excuse me, Mr. Stone …”

  The tallest of the two is reaching through our family gathering for Ayden’s arm.

  “Mr. Stone, it’s time …”

  Time for what?

  Ayden pulls his arm away and holds it aloft, as if he’s wielding a deadly weapon. His face is

  contorted into a scowl. “You’ve got to be joking! Give me a minute.”

  Our group scatters, leaving Ayden and I standing by the altar.

  “We need to talk …” He takes my hand and leads me to a quiet corner.

  I pick up my train and scoot over to join him. “What’s happening? Are you in danger?”

  Looking like a bearer of bad news, he takes my face in his hands, staring regretfully into my

  panicking eyes. “Look. I’ve got to go.”

  I back away, crippled by a single thought. He’s leaving me, again. “Go where?”

  “Back to the UK with these guys.”

  “Why? Can’t they protect you here? Why can’t I come with you?”

  He steals himself away and massages his neck with a firm hand; a sure sign that something is

  wrong. “Those guys, the ones who’ve been following us around … they’re not bodyguards. They’re

  agents. They work for the British Security Services, MI5.”

  I try to speak …

  His fingers rest on my mouth. “Hush. I want you to listen. Can you do that?”

  I nod, wide eyed, feeling helpless and overwhelmed.

  “I made a deal. I agreed to go back with them as long as they left me alone to get married. I needed

  this Beth. We needed this.” He’s arranging my veil, framing my face with a transparent shroud. “Look

  at you. You’re a vision. You know, in my wildest dreams I never imagined you would have grown up

  to be such a beautiful woman.”

  I wrap my arms around him, feeling the shuddering pulse of his heart against my cheek. “I can’t go

  back to being alone Ayden.”

  His hand cups my head. “I know baby. It’ll only be for a short while. But, I have to tell you

  something.”

  I release him from my embrace. “Something bad?”

  “No! The opposite.” He rests his hands on my bare shoulders. “Remember when we were in Rome

  that last night and I asked you what you wanted?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you remember what you said?”

  “Of course I do. A baby. Just the thought of it scared the life out of you.”

  He sniggers. “Yes. At first it did and then you explained about how we could combine the best of

  both of us and create life.”

  We share an intimate smile born of a thousand nights spent longing, waiting for this very moment.

  “I want to tell you about something I did and you need to know. Just in case.”

  “Just in case? In case of what?”

  “This investigation doesn’t turn out the way I expect it will.”

  “I don’t understand. Do you mean you might be arrested and imprisoned?” I feel the colour

  draining from my face at such a rate it may be difficult to see where the veil ends and I begin. “Why

  are you telling me this now?”

  “Because you could be pregnant Beth.”

  A moment of utter calm envelops us. “How do you know that?”

  “Because I didn’t use protection when we made love.” He’s mouthing the words but they’re not

  registering. “I wanted you to have everything, I still do. I wanted to give you the best of me.”

  I hold back a sob with my left hand and caress his adoring face with the other. “Oh, Ayden. You

  should have told me. This past week I thought something was wrong with me. I haven’t started my

  period. I’m almost a week late. I put it down to the shock of the attack but …”

  “Do you feel pregnant?” He asks, excitedly.

  What a silly yet wonderfully sincere question.

  I can’t disguise my happiness. “Ayden, you don’t feel pregnant at this stage,” I explain, smiling.

  “But I could be.”

  “I hope so …”

  “Why? Because you will have given me what I wanted?” I ask, seeking reassurance.

  “No. Because it’s what I want for us. To be a family, finally.” He speaks with the candour of a man

  on death row, the truth exploding from his lips in a passionate admission, heating up the stagnant air

  that circulates this private corner.

  Unable to tear myself away from those glittering orbs of his, I press him further. “When did you

  know you’d found me?”

  A lightweight thumb draws a horizontal line across my chin. “From day one.”

  “You knew I was Frannie and said nothing? That must have been so hard for you.”

  With a shake of his head he declares, “You have no idea.”

  I whisper, “Yes, I do.”

  He fixes me with a serious stare. “You knew who I was all along?”

  “No, not exactly. But there was something familiar about you, comforting. I just couldn’t put my

  finger on it. I felt safe with you.”

  He smiles warmly. “And you are.”

  “Yes.”

  “And this is just the beginning Beth. Once we get through this, we can start really living and loving

  each other; making up for all those lost years when we should have been together. I shouldn’t have

  given up looking for you.”

  “You didn’t. You kept the memory of me alive.” I place a trembling hand against his face. “You

  didn’t forget me.”

  “How could I? I made you a promise and I kept that promise today.”

  Overc
ome with emotion I turn away, willing the tightness in my throat to subside. When able, I find

  the right words to set his mind at rest once and for all. “Yes, you did.”

  With the softest of kisses he disperses my tears. When his lips find mine, they are coated in salt

  water. In this infinite moment, an ocean of regret and unspoken words are vaporised and forgotten.

  What was once lost has been found. We have come home.

  Ayden looks around me, forcing me to turn to see what or who has caught his eye. Just as I feared,

  his escorts are becoming impatient. One is tapping his watch, the other is pacing by the door.

  My hands rest in Ayden’s like a man-made bouquet, the perfect accompaniment to our marriage;

  not as sweet to look at but so indicative of our love. Regardless of the gifts and the getaways, the food

  and the designer fashion accessories, it’s always been about us. When our eyes meet, somewhere out

  there in the universe the constellation that formed, dictating out fate, materialises and twinkles in the

  heavens with the light of a million diamonds. It has brought us to this point, forsaking all others. This

  I know. There will be no more tears.

  “I love you Ayden.”

  “And I love you so much more Mrs. Stone.” A chaste kiss seals the declaration. “I have to go.” I

  nod resignedly. “Tell me you’ll be alright Beth. I need to hear you say the words.” A tight lipped smile

  tells me he is becoming anxious; not out of concern for his predicament, but for mine.

  The time has come for me to don my mask. To camouflage my sadness with a painted smile; to

  present a brave face. “I’ll be alright. I’ll be waiting for you when they release you.”

  “That’s my girl.” He pulls me to him and so tight is his embrace, I must hold my breath. I close my

  eyes and feel the warmth of his body blending with mine; his strength transfusing through lace and

  skin to my core. When he releases me it’s with a stark realisation. I’m his lifeline. By definition I

  should be something to hold onto; I should offer stability and have the power within me to lift him up,

  to raise his spirits. I can do that.

  I take a step back, releasing his hands, straightening my dress, preparing myself for my

  performance. “Now. Let me look at you. I don’t want any husband of mine walking out looking as if

  he’s just got out of bed.”

  His mouth forms into a flat line as I dust off his shoulders and straighten his tie. “There. Much

  better.” I pick up my train and turn to my right. “Let’s go.”

  Gripping my left hand, he drags me back. “I know what you’re doing. And I love you for it but …

  hand on heart, you have nothing to worry about.” He pulls me to him. “I’ve something to give you and

  I want you to keep it in a safe place. You’ll see what’s on it when you’re ready.” Into my concealed

  hand he slips a miniature memory stick, no bigger than a wine gum. “Keep it safe.”

  “What’s on it?” I whisper conspiratorially.

  “Don’t ask me now Beth. Wait and see.”

  Nodding, I pat the dampness from my cheeks and thank God for waterproof mascara. “Alright

  Ayden.” With that I take an enormous gulp of air and stride back towards our anxious wedding party.

  Jake has explained what’s happening and I swear, if they don’t wipe those ‘poor Beth’ looks off their

  faces, I’ll fold.

  The two agents separate. There they stand; either side of the arched entrance to the chapel like

  Spartans, suitably robed in battle dress and prepared to stop at nothing to get Mr. Stone on the next

  plane out of Las Vegas.

  I leave Ayden to say goodbye to Sylvia and Patrick, refusing to look at her woeful expression.

  Charlie comes to my aid and I just know she’ll have something to say about this. I’m not wrong.

  “What’s going on Beth? Are you alright? Did you know about this …?”

  “Stop! Charlie, please … Not now.” She pulls me to her and slams me against her chest. “I’m so

  sorry Beth.”

  “I’m fine. This will all be sorted out soon enough …” When she releases me I am moved by her

  compassion. “Don’t worry.” I kiss her cheek and turn to Ayden, who is breaking free of Sylvia for the

  final time.

  Before leaving he gives Jake the nod. Obviously Jake knew about this all along but was sworn to

  secrecy. Their clandestine meeting in the dead of night must have resulted from the worrying phone

  call I overheard. They’re shaking hands and Ayden is talking to him quietly.

  I catch the tail end of their conversation.

  “I’m sorry …”

  “Just do what I’ve told you Jay.”

  I don’t need to hear any more, which is just as well as I’m swept up by Sylvia, who insists on

  squeezing me until my eye-balls are about to pop. Patrick signs kind-hearted words of consolation and

  I’m reminded of my good fortune at having been introduced to such a loving family. Ayden’s hand in

  mine ends that reflection.

  Presenting a united front, we stroll back through the arches to the door. I release his hand and

  straighten a tie that doesn’t need straightening, keeping my eyes out of range.

  “Look at me Beth.”

  I raise my chin, drinking in his handsome face like expensive champagne, savouring this delicious

  manifestation of marital perfection.

  “Don’t take chances when you get back. Don’t go anywhere without Lester. I want my girls to be

  safe.”

  I wrinkle my nose. “Girls?”

  He grins, boyishly. “My money’s on a girl.”

  Amid all this mayhem, I’m smiling. “And now he decides to place a bet? But, I suppose that’s what

  people do in Vegas, right? Gamble, go see a show and get married?”

  He’s tipping his head in agreement. “Two outta three ain’t bad.”

  “You done good Mr. Stone. But, for the time being, all bets are off.” Thankfully our departing

  words are playful. I don’t think I would be able to act my way out of a sentimental scene.

  There’s nothing like a concluding kiss to pull at the heart strings. He’s rubbing noses and running

  his thumb along my bottom lip, the way he always does when our conversation is at an end. “Bye. Be

  bold baby.”

  I nod, inwardly promising that and so much more. “I will.” With an outstretched arm I release his

  hand and watch him leave. Outside there are reporters and photographers with raised voices, making a

  meal out of his association with the British Secret Service.

  Bowing me head, I spot the tip of a faded pink ribbon in the top of my bodice. Without thinking, I

  pick up my train and make for the door. Outside, Ayden is about to step into a black car, having had

  little to say to the waiting paparazzi.

  “Ayden!” I call out, watching him turn and stop as I run the gauntlet of startled reporters, hearing

  the recurring click of cameras. By the time I reach him, he’s stepped from the car and is catching me

  in both hands.

  “Slow down. I’m here.” He lifts me two feet off the ground and I throw my arms around his neck. “I

  forgot to give you this.” From my hand I expose the pink ribbon. “You can’t leave without it. It’s

  yours. I gave it to you to keep, remember?”

  With nimble fingers he lifts it from my hand. “Thank you. I hope you know, I loved you then and I

  have loved you every day since.” For safe keeping, he slips it into his inside pocket whilst clenching

&
nbsp; his teeth, turning his chiselled jaw from left to right, finding it hard to conceal his emotion. He clears

  his throat. “Now go, or I’ll lose it right here in front of the whole fucking world.”

  Sensing his despair I free him, stepping backwards, trampling a silken train into concrete. First one

  step, then two, then three. I take a long, lingering look.

  “Are you assessing me Mrs Stone?” he asks, coyly.

  Before I can answer he’s in the car and it’s pulling away. I reply with a smile. “No. Enjoying, Mr.

  Stone. Always enjoying …”

  Having feasted on a Chinese meal for two, Dan is in the mood for some light entertainment. He

  switches on his outdated computer and waits impatiently for it to boot up. Once it’s flickered into life,

  he reaches around the back of it and slides in a memory stick. He has no idea what’s on it. It’s not his.

  It belongs to Elizabeth Parker.

  He’d lifted his jeans from the floor this morning and out it fell. What a bonus; a Saturday night

  treat that has him fidgeting in his chair at the prospect of discovering something new about his girl.

  He dismisses the lesson plans and skims over the essays until he finds what he’s looking for:

  photographs.

  “What the fuck!” He’s hit the jackpot. In front of him hundreds of photographs are emerging. He’s

  rubbing his hands together and getting comfortable, it’s going to be one hell of a slideshow!

  Not surprisingly, he lingers on the shots of her and flicks through those with Stone. The last thing

  he wants is to see him with his arms around his girl. Making the most of the event, he pulls back the

  tab on a can of lager and sips it from one hand while the other operates the space bar. It’s a real

  occasion. Any thought he may have had about forgetting her are forgotten. No more so, than when he

  flicks onto a single shot of her sleeping. She is virtually naked from her neck to her waist, lying on her

  stomach, her pale body blending into the pale sheets as if she is carved out of marble.

  Dan is transfixed. He puts down his can and strokes her flesh with his left hand while his other

  wrestles with the zip on his jeans. As he begins to fist his cock, he traces the outline of her back,

  circles over her messy hair, draped over a pillow. He follows the outline of her petite features before

  stopping at that point where her breasts meet the mattress.

 

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