Jess looked at her, baffled. “She’ll probably never stop trying – she’s so desperate. What exactly do you mean?”
Jacqui shrugged. “If I’d already lost four babies – hell, girl, if I’d just lost one – and found myself pregnant again, I’d wrap myself in cotton wool for nine months, not go jetting off to California and whizzing around visiting people for no proper reason. With her money, I’d keep a doctor or nurse with me twenty-four-seven. That baby would be my priority from the moment the stick turned blue. If she’s that desperate, why is she so cavalier about it? You know, there’s something about Miss Amber Rayne that I just can’t quite put my finger on – and I don’t think her NPD has anything to do with it.”
****
Christian wanted to kick himself. He knew he should never have left Jess unprotected with Amber still swanning around and hell bent on destruction. He should have hired a bodyguard. When he spoke to George and heard her sobbing into the phone, it almost killed him. He told Tom there and then that he was flying back home immediately and to hell with the studio deals and demands. He had far more important commitments in England.
Within a few hours they were on a flight back to London. It seemed like he had wasted half his life sitting around in airports or on planes flying across the Atlantic in one direction or the other and he suddenly felt that enough was enough. Whichever side of the Atlantic he resided on in the future, he was determined to make sure Jess was at his side. But right now, he needed to be at her side.
From what he could understand, Amber was up to her usual tricks, trying to blame Jess for her latest miscarriage, just as she had blamed him. Once again she’d waited until he was out of the country to work her mischief on Jess. He should have known her little act down in Hampshire was just that – an act. And he had left Jess vulnerable and alone, thinking she would be safe in his house. Dammit, he should have employed an army of bodyguards to keep her safe…to keep Amber away.
It wasn’t until he reclined his seat to try to relax a bit, that his brain bounced back to its earlier thought and made him examine it more closely. Usual tricks…just as she had blamed him – the thought hovered around the threshold of his subconscious mind like those little bobbing plastic ducks in the fairground. The sort with numbers written on their underside and you had to hook and lift right out of the water to see whether or not you’d won a prize. He now dared to hook and lift one of these metaphorical ducks for the first time. Amber claimed Jess had pushed her – pushed her hard enough to make her lose her balance and fall. Just as he had pushed her. Or, at least, that’s what she’d claimed. But he had pushed her – and hard enough to make her fall down those stairs.
Every time he tried to re-live the events of that day he always recoiled in horror. It was a blur of pain and shock and misery; of Amber shouting and flailing at him one moment and lying in a crumpled heap at the bottom of the stairs the next. And his guilt, his panic and fear had instantly crowded in on him and blocked out all rational thoughts.
That was why he had to get back to Jess to support her. He knew she would never have pushed Amber – he doubted she would have the physical strength for one thing – but that the confusion, coupled with Amber’s malicious accusations, would make her doubt herself. Soon she would start to question whether she had indeed touched Amber, sufficiently to have knocked her off balance. In those ridiculously high shoes Amber always insisted on wearing, it would be easy enough to believe that to be possible. And if enough people suggested something to you, it would start to take root as a fact in your mind. He could not possibly let Jess go through that self-doubt alone.
He’d expected antagonism from Tom when he told him he was leaving, but after hearing why, Tom couldn’t have been more supportive. “Déjà vu, hey? Ah, what the hell! They’re used to this in Tinseltown. They’ll have a party list of willing guests to step in at short notice,” and he promptly started making phone calls.
*
She was sleeping when he slipped into bed beside her, trying not to disturb her, but she obviously slept lightly as she awoke immediately and threw herself into his arms. Within seconds, the tears began to flow and, although he could tell she was trying hard to restrain them, the supply seemed to be limitless. All he could do was hold her close, smooth her wet curls away from her face and kiss away the endless waterfall.
“It was so horrible – I can’t believe it happened. She was being so nice and friendly one minute and then the next she was lying on the floor and screaming that I’d killed her baby. And she did lose it! Adam called to let us know. That poor, poor woman! And I’m going to be arrested for assaulting her, I just know it!”
He held her closer still and continued to kiss away her tears and try to reassure her. “You’re not going to be arrested and you have to stop worrying about it. I’m here now and you’re safe – they’ll have to arrest me first! Tomorrow we’ll go and see her together and get to the bottom of this. I’ll make sure she retracts her accusation. I promise you that, my darling. Trust me.”
They talked long into the night until Jess fell into an exhausted sleep in his arms. He lay there watching her, his body clock trying to make sense of its repeated disturbances but feeling wide awake and anxious. Something Adam had said jumped into his mind Now that he’s dragged you into this mess, you’ve become part of the problem. He felt it now like a sharp accusation and knew the responsibility was his. He had dragged Jess into the middle of all this, though unwittingly, and he would protect her at any cost – no matter what that did to Amber.
And then something else flickered into play in his mind. He knew it had been hovering there from the moment George explain what had happened. He gently eased his arm from under Jess’s shoulders and settled her sleeping head on her pillow, pulling the duvet up and around her before wrapping himself in his robe, rising and crossing to the window. He needed to think. The memory he had done his best to erase for well over two years glimmered faintly, like an old celluloid film-track jogging into flickering life. It wanted to be acknowledged, marred with age spots and guilt spots and let’s-do-our-best-to-ignore-it-spots, it was nevertheless still there, etched on his stubborn memory, never quite willing to go away.
That fateful, bitter argument played itself as if on a loop, over and over – Amber rushing at him, screaming abuse - you don’t want children – you want to murder my baby, pummelling him with her fists until he felt he could take no more and he raised his hands and… And there it stopped, flickering to a halt. His guilt was too much for him and he had blanked out the memory of actually pushing her and fast-forwarded to the horror of seeing her tumble and roll towards the stairs and then the sight of her splayed, pale body as she looked at him with wide, accusing, fear-filled eyes.
He couldn’t let Jess live with the horror of this as he had been forced to. He knew she was innocent and was appalled at Amber for her lying accusation. He had to find a way to prove she was lying. He would just have to confront her and force her to admit it. But how? This was Amber with whom he was dealing, not a rational human being.
For some unfathomable reason, the private detective he had used to track down Jess flashed into his mind. A bit late, he thought, to be hiring a private detective now, but he couldn’t shake off the idea that he might be able to help. Why? What is it? What’s bothering me so much that I need a private eye? How he can help, he wondered. Was it just that with Steve Grayson’s wealth of experience of dealing with criminal minds, he might have some insights to offer?
He tried to dismiss the idea, but once it had fixed itself in his mind, he couldn’t do so. He shrugged and pulled out his phone. It couldn’t do any harm just to talk to him. It was 6.30 am – too early to be calling anyone, so he sent a text asking Grayson to contact him at his earliest convenience.
His phone rang within minutes.
“I wasn’t asleep – I’m on the night shift, if you get my drift – what the Americans call a stake-out. What can I do for you?” Grayson asked. He sounded as if
he was slurping coffee and Christian visualised him hunched low in his car, casing someone’s house and downing black coffee in order to keep himself awake.
“I don’t really know, but I think I’d like to talk to you,” Christian said, before briefly outlining why.
Grayson was silent for a while, as if considering his response very carefully. When he spoke his words were slow and deliberate and they took Christian by surprise. “You’re right, we do need to talk. And I think I might be able to tell you exactly what you need to know. If you’re in central London, I can probably be with you in the next hour.”
****
As Jess started to rise, feeling as if she had only just fallen asleep, Jacqui slipped into her room and ordered her back to bed.
“I can’t, I have to see to Ben,” Jess complained.
“Not this morning you don’t. George and I are taking him to school. Christian said he shouldn’t go, but I knew you’d object to that – and this time I think you’re right, so I overruled him. It’s best for Ben not to see how upset you are right now and the best thing is for him to stick to his normal routine. The official story is that mummy has a bit of a headache and needs to rest. He’s having his breakfast right now, then he’ll come upstairs, clean his teeth and kiss you goodbye. Then you must go back to sleep – no arguments.”
Jess smiled at her gratefully. “You’re an angel, Jacqui…” She wanted to express her gratitude more eloquently, but the tears were already threatening. “Where’s Christian?”
“In a meeting with some hunk called Steve. Not to be disturbed.”
Jess sank back on her pillow trying to think who Steve might be but soon gave up. Ben came bounding into the room before going off to school and afterwards Jess drifted back to sleep. The next time she opened her eyes, Christian was standing over her, looking at her with a curious expression on his face.
“What is it?” She asked, sitting up in alarm.
“We’re going to see Amber,” he told her.
“No! I don’t want to see her – and I’m sure she won’t want to see me.”
But a few hours later found them entering the London clinic which was more like a luxury hotel and finding their way to Amber’s room. A couple of guards from their usual security firm stood at the door, but they recognised Christian and let him through. Amber lay propped up on her pillows looking languid and pale while Adam stood looking out of a surprisingly grimy window onto the courtyard below.
“Christian, darling…” Amber began, but then caught sight of Jess. “What’s she doing here? Get her out of here! I won’t have her near me. You can stay, Christian – but she goes!”
Christian held onto Jess’s hand and pulled her close to his side.
“She stays with me, Amber. We’re a couple now and you’ll just have to learn to deal with that.” His voice was strong and firm.
“She killed my baby. Our baby, Adam – get rid of her!” Amber appealed to Adam who looked as if he was about to leave the room himself.
“No she didn’t. And I think you should stay and hear this, Adam.” Christian said giving his friend a look of heartfelt sorrow. “Jess didn’t touch you, Amber. She told me she didn’t and I believe her. But even if she had, she would not have been responsible for this, because I think you’d already lost your baby – or were in the process of losing it – when you went to see her. And you knew that, which was why you went to see Jess – so that you could implicate her. You must have been in a lot of pain at the time – but then I hear self-induced abortions are almost as painful as labour.”
Jess gasped at the realisation of what Christian was suggesting. How had she failed to see that physical not emotional distress had been wracking Amber’s body that day? So Amber knew she was losing her baby when she came to see her? All that gasping and writhing around, she could barely speak - the pain must have been excruciating. She stared at Amber dumbstruck.
Amber looked horrified. “Don’t be ridiculous, Christian! How dare you…”
“No, how dare you? How dare you think that because your evil little trick worked once, that it would work again?” Christian turned to Adam, who had stopped dead in his tracks near the door. “That detective we hired last year found out a bit more than he was actually hired to look for – a natural curiosity is the sign of a good private eye, I suppose. But as it bore no relation to the case at the time, he discreetly kept it to himself – more’s the pity. Amber’s so-called first pregnancy was not her first at all. There had been at least two others before that – which she had also aborted!”
All three pairs of eyes were now glued to Christian as he spoke, Jess had released his hand and was now covering her mouth with both of hers as she stared at him in astonishment; Adam’s eyes were wide and disbelieving, his mouth slightly open, while Amber stared up at him from her snowy white pillows in horror and hatred.
“The reason Amber can’t carry a pregnancy to term is not the result of that so-called first miscarriage which she claimed I caused. It’s because - despite all her claims – she doesn’t actually want children. She inflicts damage on herself to make sure she never brings a pregnancy to full term, but of course, blaming herself is unthinkable for Amber, so she must pile the blame elsewhere – even onto other people.”
“No!” Amber shrieked. “That’s lies, terrible, slanderous lies! I’ll sue you for even suggesting that!”
Christian looked at her as if he were seeing her for the first time ever, and finding what he saw repugnant. “I think I’m the one who should be suing you – for your ‘terrible, slanderous lies’, for defamation and for trying to destroy my life! It may be more than a little unorthodox, I know, but then I suppose that’s why people hire private detectives in the first place – to dig up private dirt. I have copies of medical records which don’t make very pleasant reading. They are in different names of course, though one is in the name of Annie Ryder, so I think the courts will be perfectly satisfied with them if you want to pursue that claim. You always said you had a dirty past, Amber – but I never realised just how dirty you meant.”
Amber fell back onto her pillows twisting her head from side to side, her face a picture of misery and self-pity. Adam had turned his face to the wall and was leaning his forehead against it. His hands were deep in his pockets and he appeared to be locked in a completely different world. Jess wanted to say something to Amber but could only stare at her in silence, just like Christian, as a thought too awful to articulate pounded through her mind.
She watched Christian move towards the bed and touch Amber’s hand as if he might hold it, but couldn’t bring himself to do so. The pain in his expression wrenched at her heart as he looked at Amber as if his eyes were finally seeing the real person at last.
“I could sympathise with you if you hadn’t lied so much. This is an illness, Ambs and I know I should feel sorry for you. You need help badly, and I’m not just begging you to accept it – I will make damn certain you have no choice. I don’t suppose you even understand your own motivations, but surely you understand how damaging your lies were? Can you even comprehend what you put me through with your accusations? I believed everything you said about me and amplified it ten times over in my mind. Why did you insist I’d pushed you? How could you make me go on believing that for two and a half years?”
“I just wanted you to know what my suffering was like,” Amber said, seizing his hand and trying to pull it closer to her. Her voice was hardly more than a harsh whisper. “I just needed you to feel it with me. But no one can ever do that. You’ll never know how lonely it is not having anyone to share your pain.”
Christian shook his head. “Not good enough, Amber. We all tried our best to do that and to protect and support you. But to inflict so much misery on the people who loved you because you had a terrible childhood – that drives sympathy away. I might have been able to make allowances for myself, but I’ll never be able to forgive you for trying to put Jess through the same misery.” He released Amber’s gr
ip of his hand by prising away her fingers and, with a final shake of his head, turned to lead Jess from the room. She was still too stunned to utter a word.
At the door, they paused and Christian put his hand on Adam’s shoulder for a moment. Adam nodded, but said nothing and remained where he was, white faced and grave. Poor, poor man, Jess thought. He’s going to need time and space to grieve.
****
He’d gone in there all guns blazing, but left without any great sense of achievement. After that long session that morning talking everything through with Steve Grayson, he’d wanted nothing more than to confront Amber, make her confess the truth and explain why she’d done it. But seeing her lying there, looking so miserable, he realised she was probably the last person to understand her actions. Grayson had explained Amber’s psychosis to him – that she was torn between her powerful urge to be a mother and the conflicting and even more powerful belief that she could not bring a child into this world to suffer as she had. Add to that mixture, Amber’s pathological inability to accept blame for her actions and a very dangerous psychosis is born.
Wishful Thinking Page 21