by Janet Gover
Lizzie watches him leave, fighting all the while not to call him back.
At last she is on her own. She takes a deep breath. She has done the hardest thing. Now she can face the rest of what has to be done.
She finishes the morning chores and goes to the house. Her first call is to the hospital to check on Kayla. Her sister will be allowed home in a couple of days. She’ll need to recuperate for a few weeks, but then she will be fine.
Her second call is to her father’s lawyer and then she calls the bank. These are not easy calls to make, but the meetings that will follow them will be even harder.
Her final call is to a number she has found through directory assistance. It’s answered immediately by an efficient sounding woman.
She doesn’t know how she will explain this to Kayla. How do you tell an eleven-year-old suffering the physical effects of an accident that she must leave her home and go somewhere to be surrounded by strangers? It won’t be easy, but there is no choice. One eighteen-year-old girl cannot run a horse stud and care for her young sister at the same time.
‘Hello,’ she says to the woman on the phone. ‘I want to make enquiries about a boarding school place for my younger sister. My name is Lizzie—Elizabeth Lawson.’
CHAPTER
52
‘Kayla, you’re going to have to drop everything else and sort this out. Sorry.’ Pascale grimaced.
‘I’ll fix it. Don’t worry.’
Kayla looked at her screen. The gossip website had almost got it right. ‘Soap Star’s Secret Wedding Plans’ it screamed in a font far too large and far too red for comfort. The site then went on to detail plans for the celebrity wedding of the year between a famous soap star and her musician boyfriend. They had the right date and the right location and promised ‘exclusive insider details’ of the ceremony plans, including the dress designer. Much of it was rubbish, but that didn’t matter. The date and place were the important things when it came to celebrity weddings. Now the secret was out, the venue would be besieged by paparazzi, and probably a crowd of onlookers. That was exactly what Elite Weddings was being paid to prevent.
Someone was likely to lose their job over the leak. Kayla would have to find out where it came from. It was the first time something like this had happened and she was not going to risk a second. But any investigation would have to wait. She had a wedding to move.
Changing the venue was the only option she had now, and there wasn’t much time. It was a big wedding with a couple of hundred guests. Many of them were TV stars or pop stars and almost all of them were movers and shakers in the entertainment industry. If she got this wrong, it wouldn’t be good for business. If she got it right, it would probably lead to a number of lucrative commissions. So right it had to be.
The problem was that there weren’t many large, high-end venues to be had at short notice. Not many? Who was she kidding? There were none at all.
The first thing she had to do was talk to her client. The bride-to-be was, according to her assistant, on set. She would call back as soon as she was able. Everything in the assistant’s manner suggested that neither she nor her employer had seen the article. But Kayla knew that it wouldn’t be long before someone pointed it out to them. In the meantime, she needed to get to work.
Kayla worked the phone and all her contacts for an hour and came up with nothing. There were venues, but none that were big enough, good enough or provided enough security. She was almost at her wits’ end when her phone rang.
‘It’s Beth Richards here.’
‘Thanks for calling, Beth. I’m afraid I have some bad news.’
‘I’ve seen it,’ the actress replied in a remarkably calm tone.
‘I don’t know where the leak came from. Not from my office, I can assure you. I will track it down though.’
‘I do know. It turns out our photographer told his assistant who told someone—and you know how that works. Can you find a trustworthy photographer for me? Someone good?’
‘I have the perfect person in mind—I’ll call him as soon as we’re done.’
‘Great. My publicist has already talked to the website—but that’s not going to change anything.’
‘No. It’s not. My best advice would be to change venue—and date too if you can. I’ve already started looking at new venues, but it is short notice.’
‘And there’s no way we can keep the plans as they were?’
‘We can—but it’s highly likely there will be some sort of disruption. There will be paps there. And the less honourable news outlets will already be trying to bribe staff to take secret photos and it’s impossible to keep all the staff’s mobile phones out of the venue.’
‘All we ever wanted was a quiet, private wedding. And now look at the mess we’re in.’ Now Beth sounded on the verge of tears, reminding Kayla that while she was a huge star, she was only twenty-two years old.
An idea sprang into her mind. Maybe …
‘Beth, do you still want a quiet, private wedding? I can give you that with total security. No paps. No crowds. Just the two of you and a few key guests. You can have that private moment. Then we can change the plans for the second and make it a big party, rather than the wedding itself. If the paps do turn up, they’ll be on the edge of the party—but not disrupting your special day.’
Kayla crossed her fingers during the long silence that followed.
‘I’m not sure … exactly what were you thinking?’
‘I know of a venue in the Hunter Valley. A lovely historic homestead. It’s a new venue so the paps have never been there. There’s a beautiful dining room that will seat fifteen to twenty. Or you can have forty or fifty people if you only want outdoor drinks and canapés under a marquee. There’s overnight accommodation locally if you want, or there’s an airport and you can just fly in for the ceremony and back again in a day.’
‘That’s not many people.’
‘How many of the people on your guest list are really that important to you? Personally important.’
‘I guess …’
‘Let me send you a photo of the venue right now.’
With a silent blessing to the god of technology, Kayla sent Beth one of Ken’s photos of Willowbrook. It showed the homestead in the glow of dawn. She waited, saying nothing.
‘That is pretty,’ Beth said at last. ‘And it might be nice to have a small wedding like we originally wanted to.’
Kayla could breathe again. ‘Of course. Then the party can be just as spectacular as you want. With as many people as you want.’
‘It’s my publicist who wants the big party.’
‘That’s fine. She can even invite a few more people if it’s not the wedding as such.’
‘I’m starting to like the idea. Let me talk to Vince and get back to you.’
‘Do that. I would suggest sooner rather than later. The longer you wait, the greater the risk that someone will find out. This is probably the most secret venue I can get for you, but you know how hard it is to keep things quiet once preparations have started.’
Kayla hung up.
‘You’re thinking of moving them to Willowbrook?’ Pascale had obviously been listening.
‘Yes.’
‘Good idea, but is it ready for something this high end?’
‘It will be. Trust me.’
‘Oh, I do.’
Certain Beth would go along with her idea, Kayla started making plans and doing costings. Last-minute arrangements didn’t come cheap, but her clients had plenty of money and they would be willing to pay for privacy. She needed flowers, catering, transport. She was pretty sure she could get Ken to do the photos. But none of them needed to know who this wedding was for. Nor did most of them need to know the venue until the actual day.
Her plans were already taking shape when the phone rang again.
‘All right,’ Beth said. ‘Let’s do it.’
‘You won’t regret it.’ Kayla’s brain switched into high gear, while her heart took
a little leap at the thought of going … home?
CHAPTER
53
There was someone walking around on the other side of the creek, which was strange. Even more strange was the way they were moving, as if searching for something or hiding from someone. Mitch didn’t like the look of it. He turned his horse’s head towards the figure just vanishing among the trees. A minute later, he pulled up on the bank of the creek. He peered across the water at Willowbrook and caught a flash of movement. It wasn’t a horse and it wasn’t Liz.
Mitch trotted along the creek to the crossing. He sent his horse plunging through the water and out the other side, where he urged it into a canter. He saw movement ahead of him, and in a few moments caught up with a man who was on foot. The man spun and then backed away from the horse as Mitch swung himself from the saddle.
‘What are you doing here?’
‘I wasn’t doing any harm.’
‘That’s not what I asked. Who are you?’ Mitch noticed the bag on the man’s shoulder. ‘What’s in there?’
‘It’s my camera. I’m a photographer. A local stringer for the news websites.’
‘But what are you doing here?’
‘I know a guy at the airport. He calls me when private planes land. He recognised some celebrity chef with boxes of stuff. I followed him here. I know this place is used for weddings, so I thought it might be someone, you know, famous. I could sell a photo and make a few bucks.’
‘This is private land. You’ve got no right to be here.’
‘Hey, mate. I’m just doing my job.’
‘Well, you can do it somewhere else, all right?’
‘Who the hell are you to order me about?’
‘I’m the man who is going to knock you down if you don’t leave right now.’
The photographer took a step away. Mitch followed, his anger rising. How dare this man trespass on Liz’s land? How dare he spy on her and her home? Mitch had never hit anyone in his life, but if he was ever going to, this could well be the time.
Something of his feeling must have been visible in his face, because the photographer continued to back away, raising his hands.
‘Okay. No problem. There’s no need to get heavy. I’m leaving. It was probably a bad tip anyway. There’s no way anyone famous would get married in a dump like this.’ He began making his way to the fence and the road.
Mitch swung himself into the saddle and followed. The photographer moved quickly, occasionally glancing over his shoulder. When they reached the fence line, Mitch saw a car parked off the road, half hidden among the trees. The photographer vaulted over the fence and made for the car. Mitch stayed where he was, watching, until the man started the engine and drove away. The photographer drove straight past the Willowbrook driveway and kept on going. Mitch nodded in satisfaction, but he wasn’t about to leave it there. He turned towards the homestead.
He dismounted at the stables but found no sign of Liz. There was movement at the house, so leaving his mount in an empty stall, he walked in the direction of the noise. He paused at the gate. There seemed to be a lot of people around and he didn’t want to walk into the middle of something. Then he saw Kayla. She was carrying a tablet and looked the very image of efficiency as she directed people carrying flowers and chairs. Clearly they were preparing for a wedding that hadn’t started yet. He opened the gate.
‘Hi, Mitch. Um—I don’t want to be anti-social, but we’ve got a wedding today.’
‘I know. I just disturbed a photographer down by the creek.’
‘Dammit! Where is he?’
‘Gone. I chased him off. He said something about this place not being good enough for the sort of wedding he was looking for.’
Kayla grimaced. ‘Not very flattering, but if he really has gone, I’ll take it.’
‘What’s not very flattering?’ Liz appeared beside Kayla.
While Kayla told Liz about the photographer, Mitch took the time to look around. Granted he didn’t have much experience when it came to weddings, but there did seem to be rather a lot of fuss involved. There were people walking around with armloads of flowers and cardboard boxes with contents he couldn’t even guess at. A car pulled up and someone got out carrying a huge garment bag. And something white in a box. It was all a bit much for him.
‘Look, I don’t want to get under your feet,’ he said. ‘I guess I’ll head home now.’
Kayla laid a hand on his arm. ‘Mitch, can you do me a favour? We have security at the front gates, but they’re no use if word has gotten out and the paps start coming cross country. The couple’s plane is due to land any minute. Would you—and you, Liz—be able to ride the boundary for the next few hours? Just in case there are more photographers out there? The ceremony will be over by one. Then everyone goes inside for a meal. They’ll be gone by four at the latest. We need to keep the paparazzi and sightseers out until then. You’ll get paid. I’ve got budget for security.’
Mitch waved aside the thought of payment. ‘Happy to help out,’ he said. ‘But if we’re going to stay out that long, I’ll need to change horses. The colt I’m riding isn’t up for that yet.’
‘Do you have a horse he could ride?’ Kayla asked her sister.
Mitch could sense the hesitation in Liz, but it didn’t last long. She nodded. ‘Sure.’
‘Kayla, when do these guests arrive?’ A man dressed as a chef stormed up to them. ‘My smoked trout mousse can’t be left just sitting there. If I’m going to be expected to provide edible food out here in the back of beyond, people need to be on time!’
‘It’s fine, Lachie. They’re almost here. Come on. Let’s head back and check the tables are ready.’ Kayla flashed a smile at Mitch and Liz as she led the irate chef away.
‘This wedding business appears to be pretty stressful,’ Mitch observed.
He was rewarded with one of Liz’s rare smiles. ‘And would you believe that’s Kayla’s boyfriend?’
‘Oh. Is it serious?’
‘I really don’t know. I haven’t asked. Come on. We better get started if we’re going to be the border patrol.’
CHAPTER
54
While Mitch took care of his colt, Liz set about catching two new horses.
When Mitch joined her, he carried his heavy stock saddle in one hand as if it weighed nothing.
‘Why don’t you take Deimos?’
Mitch frowned. ‘Deimos? Are you sure?’
She understood his surprise. She was prepping Deimos for competition and most people didn’t like strangers riding their competition horses. But Mitch wasn’t a stranger.
‘Of course. It will be interesting for me to watch him work. And to hear what you think of him.’
‘If you’re sure, I’d love to.’
Liz stood back and let Mitch do his thing with Deimos. He was gentle and gave Deimos time to think about him. But when Deimos showed signs of objecting to a strange saddle, Mitch was just firm enough. He led the colt into the working arena and swung into the saddle, then he gently guided the animal in a series of circles and figure eights at a trot and a canter. They were a joy to watch. Seeing him like this, Liz began to realise that Deimos really was a worthy son of his sire. Like Apollo, he moved with strength and grace, and he was quite beautiful.
And Mitch—he was beautiful too, in his own way. He wasn’t just a good rider, his patience and empathy with the horse made him seem one with it. His body was lean and strong and totally under control. He guided Deimos with the smallest movements of legs and hand. And with his voice. Liz couldn’t hear him, but she knew how his voice would sound: gentle and low, but firm and encouraging. She could have watched Mitch ride for hours.
Seeing him like this, it was almost as if the last fifteen years hadn’t happened. As if they were teenagers again, preparing for a competition. Working together had always felt so good. No, that was wrong. Being together had always felt so good.
He looked up and saw her watching and smiled. This time, she didn’t t
ry to hide from him.
By the time Liz had saddled her horse and was ready to go, Mitch and Deimos were waiting for her, apparently already settled into a partnership.
‘Let’s split up,’ she suggested. ‘I’ll do a loop from here out to the crossing then work my way back along the creek and up to the front gate. Why don’t you head up to the hilltop and see if you can spot any cars where they shouldn’t be? Then you can loop the other way to the front gate.’ She didn’t need to give him any more directions than that. Mitch knew Willowbrook almost as well as she did.
It wasn’t until she was halfway to the creek that she realised she had sent Mitch to the graveyard. She halted her horse and watched as he and Deimos reached the top of the hill. They stopped near the lone tree and sat there for a short time. It was the first time Mitch had been there since the day of the funeral. Was he looking at the graves and thinking about that terrible day? It occurred to her that perhaps that day, and the guilt they shared, haunted Mitch as much as it haunted her. He had lost a mentor he cared deeply about and a woman who regarded him almost as a son. Except neither of them had wanted him as a son—nor wanted him to marry their daughter.
On the hilltop, Mitch pushed Deimos forward and the pair dropped out of view down the other side of the rise. It was time for Liz to move on too. There might not be any more photographers hanging around, but if there were, it was in her best interests to find them. Kayla wasn’t the only one who would suffer if this wedding went wrong. Liz was beginning to understand how important this venture was becoming to her, financially. She would fight just as hard for it as she did for every other part of Willowbrook.
Liz patrolled the fence line for the next couple of hours. On each loop, she and Mitch would meet near the gates of Willowbrook where two of Kayla’s hired security men reported no issues. There was never a lot of traffic on this road, and the cars that had appeared today had simply passed by. Liz was beginning to think it was time to call it a day, when she noticed cars starting to leave the homestead. She was near to the driveway, so paused to watch them go. The front car carried the bride and groom. A young woman all in white looked out the window and saw Liz on her horse. She waved, her face a picture of excitement and happiness. Liz waved back, silently wishing the girl more happiness than she had found on her own wedding day. Had she looked like that on the morning she and Mitch had set out to be married?