She smiled at him. “Look let’s have dinner together as a celebration. We have just had a great contract signed, and now you are having a baby too! It’s quite a day for us both. I think champagne is in order!”
“Ermm, not for me,” she said pointing at her stomach.
“Ok, then, I shall have yours. Margaret?” He called his secretary on the office phone. “Can you get out the champagne we keep for special occasions? And some orange juice?”
“Why yes Dean!”
“We had a great day today. Get yourself a glass too. We have a lot to toast to.”
They decided to take the rest of the day off, and she went back to his place, where Anne the housekeeper was preparing dinner for them both. Dean put his feet up on the footstool and rested his head on the back of the sofa. Priscilla sat next to him.
“Oh I meant to tell you.” Dean looked at her as she rested by his side. “Remember the wedding we went to?” He saw her whole body stiffen. “My friend Ellen said you wanted to talk to her. She was asking after you.”
“Oh.” He wasn’t the worlds best body language reader, but he would have been a fool to not see how she had entirely changed mood and body position. She was very defensive.
“She came by the office yesterday. You were out at lunch with a client, I think. She brought a very nice chap along with her. A captain looking for a job, they met in London.
“I am thinking of meeting with him again, although I think he is way too qualified for us. He handles the larger cruise ships, you know. God knows why he would suddenly want to change to skippering the types of yachts we have.”
“What was his name?”
“Oh I don’t remember. Something Greek I think.”
“Why are all ships captains Greek, I wonder?” Veronique thought of Nico and suddenly felt a pang of sadness. Here she was, possibly carrying his child, and he was still sailing around the ocean completely ignorant of where she was, or the predicament she was in. “The last captain I worked with was Greek. Very professional. A good guy, they may even know each other, you never know.”
“Mmm, true, maybe.” Dean stood up. “Look I have to go change for dinner. It’s an old habit, and old habits die hard. If you would like to freshen up, I can show you to the guest room?”
“I don’t have anything to change into, I am afraid.”
“No worries, it was just an offer. Just make yourself at home. I’ll be down shortly.”
Veronique nodded and leant back into the sofa, which was so comfortable, it was threatening to swallow her. She couldn’t be bothered to pick up the table books on yachts, or the magazines that scattered its surface. The phone rang, and she looked at it as though just by her looking at it would cause it to stop. It didn’t. It just carried on ringing. She waited for someone else to pick it up, and when no one did, she answered.
“Hello?”
“Dean please.” It was a woman’s voice.
“Who is calling?” Veronique asked politely.
“Who is this?” She seemed surprised, and also irritated that the person didn’t know who she was.
“This is Priscilla.” Before she could say any more, the woman had hung up.
Veronique lay back on the sofa and started to doze. It seemed hours before Dean returned to the room looking smarter, and yet still, casual. His eyes seemed amazingly blue as he sat down, and she realised it was because the colour of his shirt brought out the colour in them.
“Ah! I nearly forgot to tell you. You had a call whilst you were upstairs, but the other person, a lady, hung up before I could take any details.”
“Hmm I don’t know any woman who would do that. Must have been a wrong number.”
“No she asked specifically for you.”
“If she needs to speak to me I am sure she will call again.”
The dinner was quiet, delicious and Dean and Veronique had a pleasant time chatting over things. When it was time for her to go, he saw how tired she was and suggested that she come in later the following day. She could work from home in the morning, if she wanted. She smiled thankfully and accepted his offer. He was feeling so merry that he even said she could work from home all day, if she wanted. She said she would see how she felt, but grinned at his generosity.
The next day, at the office, slightly hung over, Dean was surprised to find Nico waiting for him. He had been waiting outside his offices for several hours.
“Hello! I didn’t expect to see you again so soon...come in.”
“Well I was still in the area and thought I would come by and see if you do have any contacts for me.” It wasn’t the truth. He had just wanted to get in the offices to meet the woman he had seen entering before.
“You know, it is funny; I was speaking last night with my colleague Priscilla. I mentioned you to her. I said that I would be contacting you again. I may just have something for you.” He showed Nico through to his office, and signalled for him to take a seat, as he leafed through some papers, which he had taken from his briefcase. “We had a meeting yesterday with a very important client and it just so happens we may need your services. I can’t offer you the same deal as the cruise ship companies as our vessels are much smaller, but we may be able to work something out.” Nico was still thinking about ‘Priscilla’ and thinking that it wasn’t his Veronique, after all.
“Have you all your papers with you?”
“I don’t, as I wasn’t expecting such a positive response from you, but I could email them to you later today, and send notarised copies by courier? The originals are still in Greece.”
“That could work. If it’s at all possible, I would like you to meet Priscilla too. Are you around later? We could discuss the projects then and the yachts we need you for, and when. It could be quite challenging for you and also lend a lot more flexibility and variety to your role.”
“I could be.” Nico was back to square one with his search for her; he was not in any hurry to leave. He might as well stay to see what offer was on the table.
“I’ll just call her and see if she can pop into the office. I think she is around for the moment.”
Dean picked up the phone and began dialling. Nico sat there patiently and tried not to listen to the conversation.
“Priscilla, Remember I told you about the Greek Captain I was thinking of working with? He is in the office at the moment I was wondering if you could come by? I would like you to meet him.”
He heard a voice on the other end of the phone and his ears pricked up immediately. She had a French accent and a slightly lower voice than Veronique.
“His name is Captain Nico Vangelis.” The other end of the phone went silent and then she spoke again. Nico was straining to hear what she said. As it was he could only hear Dean’s responses. “The other day. Oh, I am sorry to hear that. Ok, well then, you can meet him after your event. I think that is when he will most likely be back in the office. Speaking of which I also think we need to get someone in to cover for the days you are, shall we say, indisposed for one reason and another. We will also need someone to see people on board; later on I mean.” Dean hung up and then turned back to Nico. “Unfortunately Priscilla isn’t able to come in today.”
Nico nodded. He wasn’t too bothered. He was just intrigued by her that was all. Dean talked of the yachts, their specification, some of the trips that were booked for that year and what he required of his captains. It was all standard stuff to Nico who nodded and listened. He was pleased to leave after a few hours and Dean seemed equally relieved at the end of the meeting.
Dean couldn’t wait to speak to Ellen. So much was going on in his business and he couldn’t wait to tell her about the latest deals and the surprise news that Priscilla was pregnant.
When he called she answered on the second ring and he was pleased to hear her voice.
“Ellie, I’m in London for the whole of tomorrow, are you around? Do you fancy meeting up?”
“Yes that would be wonderful.” Dean could hear the genuine pleasu
re in her voice. “But don’t come here. Let’s meet somewhere else. How about Greens?” She was immediately on edge at the thought of meeting him and Dean could hear it in his voice. He hoped it wasn’t because of him.
“See you at 1 p.m.?” He said trying to lighten her mood.
“Yes, lovely.” The line went dead.
Dean sat at the bar so that he could see Ellen the moment she arrived. He had reserved a table for them. He was looking forward to seeing her and had thought of nothing else. Her last kiss had left a lasting impression upon him, and he was ready to collect some more from her. She arrived about ten minutes after him, and was very flustered. It was as though something was really bothering her and she was guarded. Her green eyes darted around the room until they found him, then she smiled and walked towards him. He kissed her full on the mouth, and she leant back, and laughed at him. Her eyes looked different, older somehow, and sadder.
They were guided to their table and they sat opposite one another smiling. She looked happy to see him and he smiled back at her.
“So, what have you been up to?” she asked.
“Since your last visit? That visit?” He smiled and it caused her to blush at the thought of how she had kissed him. “Business is booming, it’s going very well in fact and you know that captain you introduced me to? I decided to employ him. He is a very likeable chap and very well qualified, too qualified for my company really and the biggest news is that Priscilla is pregnant.” He smiled, as he was genuinely happy for her and now that he was used to the news, the fact it wasn’t going to affect their working relationship and she wasn’t going to leave his company, he was delighted.
Ellen went white and stood up. She pushed her chair back, and grabbed her coat.
“Are you all right Ellie?” He stood up too.
“I have to go. Damn! That’s all I have to say to you lately.” He stood up too, as she was turning to leave.
“Wait Ellen, wait.” Other diners turned to see what was happening. She had stomped off and he almost trotted behind her, trying to keep up with her. “What’s going on? What’s the matter?” A waiter stopped him and asked if he was staying, or leaving, and he stopped to speak with him just for a few seconds. Ellen was out of the door and had flagged down a passing taxi, before he had even reached the exit. He watched the taxi speed away taking Ellen with it. He scratched his head. He would never understand women.
There was no point returning to the restaurant, and so he hailed a taxi, and returned to his London apartment.
Chapter Fifteen – Veronique
Veronique couldn’t believe that Dean had just told her that Nico was in the office. She couldn’t believe it at all. She had started shaking so much. It was too much of a coincidence but how could he know? Maybe he had left the ship, and decided to move on. A new role and a new challenge. She felt excited, apprehensive and dread all at once. She wasn’t ready to face him, as he would have so many questions, so many questions, and she wasn’t ready to tell him any of the answers yet. Making her excuses, she refused to go to the office but she couldn’t stop herself from getting in the car and watching for him when he left. When she saw him, her heart leapt. He just looked so good, so handsome and also so sad. If only he knew that she was so close, and possibly carrying his child. She hoped and prayed, every day, that it was his child. She wanted it to be his so much. The fact that he was here had to be a sign. He had been such a good friend after the event with Matt. She had seen a completely different side to him. Instead of the international playboy image of who she had thought he was, she had met and fallen in love with the gentler, passionate and yet caring man; the man he actually was. If only. She had no idea what he would say to her being pregnant in the first place, would he accept it as his? And what if it wasn’t? The shame filled her again.
She couldn’t risk telling him and she didn’t want him to think any less of her. It was best this way. He had his life and she had hers, totally separate.
Returning home, she had visualised meeting him again and seeing the laughter in his eyes; that wonderful twinkle that she had taken for granted. Things all seemed so complicated now. Chances were, he no longer thought of her any more. She was like a chapter in his book, a very short chapter. He had had so many women. Why on earth would he even remember her?
The phone rang to disturb her thoughts and she got up, and went across the room to answer it. The phone went silent after she spoke and then a few seconds later, the person at the other end hung up. She went to the front door, and locked it, just in case it wasn’t a random caller. At the same time, she thought it couldn’t be Matt, as he had no idea where she lived, and she knew that Nico had no idea who, or where, she was either. That evening the phone rang again and the caller said nothing. She phoned the call back number to find it was a withheld number. To be on the safe side, she closed all the curtains, and sat in the dark for the rest of the day and evening.
The pregnancy was going smoothly. Her shape had become more rounded as it had progressed. She felt embarrassed to ask Dean for help standing sometimes, as the weight of the baby made her unsteady on her feet. Dean had taken over most of the meetings as she had begun to show, but other than that, everything was going fine. It was not long before the baby was due. Nico had gone to work on one of the yachts they chartered and so she had not met him before he left, nor had any contact with him since. Dean made a point of always going to London to meet with Matt. Ellen didn’t call again and so it was just her and Dean in the office supported by Margaret, the secretary, and the business that was doing very well.
It was the middle of the night when Veronique awoke with a stabbing pain. A cramping pain stretched from her ribcage down to her thighs. She cried out with the force of it, and felt around for the phone.
“Oh God, I think it’s time!” she said to herself. Her hand found the phone, and quickly dialled Dean, the only number she had on speed dial. She tried to get out of bed and ended up kneeling on the floor on all fours. She grimaced with the pain of a contraction.
“Please Dean,” she prayed, “be there.” The phone was answered a few rings later by the very sleepy voice of Dean.
“Dean, I’m in labour!”
“You call me to talk politics?” he said, half asleep, before he suddenly realised that he wasn’t dreaming.
“What? Where are you?”
“Arrrgh!” she moaned, “On the floor by my bed.”
“I’ll be there in a couple of minutes.”
“Wait.” She paused as another contraction hit her hard, “spare keys,” she panted, “with next door.” She moaned again, and heard him hang up. She was supposed to be doing her breathing exercises, but now that she had to, she couldn’t remember a thing she had been taught.
A few moments later, she heard a car pull up outside, and Dean talking to the next-door neighbours. He had been banging on the door so loudly, that even she heard him from where she was. She heard him bounding up the steps, two at a time, to get to her. She smiled through the pain.
The door opened and there stood Dean, still in his pyjamas and his dressing gown, his hair all tousled from sleep, and a definite five o clock shadow. She was never more pleased to see anyone in her entire life.
“Let’s get you to a hospital.” He leant down to help her up but she was unable to move, the contractions were coming very fast and it was as much as she could do, to breathe.
“No time.”
“There has to be. I don’t know what to do.”
“Call emergency services they can talk you through it.” She howled as a strong contraction took her body over again. Her stomach was feeling as though the whole thing was juddering slowly. Dean, who was as white as a sheet, dialled for help.
After giving details, they put him through to a maternity ward and a calm midwife came on the line.
“Help!” Dean shouted into the phone, “I have a pregnant woman giving birth here. What do I do?”
“Don’t worry, Sir. It’s all perfectly n
atural. Women have been giving birth for millennia. An ambulance is on the way. What stage is she at?” The midwife spoke slowly, and calmly, whereas Dean was in a total ‘white knuckle ride’ panic.
“What do you mean?”
“How far apart are your wife’s contractions?”
“She isn’t my wife.” Dean waited. “What are contractions?”
“How far apart are they? Repeat that question to her. She will know.” Dean looked at Veronique, who appeared to be looking at the floor and moaning. He asked her the question.
“Every twenty seconds.” Veronique screamed at Dean. Dean repeated it, although the midwife had already heard the answer.
“Right, my dear, it sounds as though she is at second stage.”
“What’s that?”
“It is when the baby is about to be born. Can you see the head crowning?”
“Crowning? What does that mean.”
“Can you see the baby’s head?”
“No she is on all fours, across the room.”
“Ok Sir, I need you to go and have a look for me.”
“I can’t do that! I know this woman. She works for me!” The midwife smiled at the other end of the phone.
“Take a look, Sir, we need to know.”
“I am sorry. I can’t.” Veronique was howling again in the background, and swearing with all her might. It didn’t sound as though she was enjoying the process of birth, at all.
“Sir you have to. They could both be in danger. You have to be my eyes there. I need to know what is happening, so I can tell you what you need to do. I can assure you, she will not mind you looking.” Dean gingerly approached Veronique. It was as if she was a lioness about to attack him.
“Priscilla. I need to look and see if I can see the baby’s head.”
“OK,” She screamed, and changed position, her lumbering painful body, moving slowly. She grunted with the effort, and sat, so he could see between her legs.
“Oh my god!” Dean shouted, “I can see part of a head!”
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