All That the Heart Desires (20 page)

Harry’s greeting was somewhere between cold and happy to see me. Sensing such a mixture of different feelings was not something I wanted to deal with. He stepped away from the door so that I could enter the suite.

Lorcan had escorted me back; he wasn’t convinced I would manage on my own.

“So, she finally woke up?” Harry asked him. I turned around quickly and at the same time realised it was not the wisest thing to do. Harry was acting as if I weren’t in the room.

“Yes I did and I’d ask you not to speak about it. My head hurts and I won’t listen to your lectures.” I went to my room. I needed to freshen up and to clean my teeth.

Coming back to the living room I felt much better than before. Realising Harry was alone I wondered why I hadn’t heard Lorcan leaving. I lay down on the sofa and closed my eyes.

“Are we leaving tonight?” I asked him.

“No,” was the answer I got. “Here you go.” Opening my eyes slowly, I saw a large glass of juice.

“It’s grapefruit,” Harry said. “It will help you clear your mind.” I stood up and took the glass from his hands. I drank it in one gulp. He was right. The grapefruit was good for my sensitive stomach.

“Are you ready to eat?” Hearing that question alone made me want to throw up. I shook my head.

“Don’t mention food to me,” I pleaded.

“Did you…” I raised my hand.

“No, I didn’t vomit if that’s what concerns you.” Harry came closer and sat next to me. I put my head into his lap. He started to caress my hair, the same way as he had in the past when I was a little girl and he was all that was left of my family; my solid, granite rock. I almost fell asleep.

After a while I heard him speak again.

“You missed a lot.”

“Like what?” I murmured without opening my eyes.

“Lorcan was third.”

“I know. I saw the trophy.”

We were both silent after that and he continued caressing my hair, trying to calm me down. I was thankful he didn’t give me any lectures. I was really not prepared to listen to them.

Suddenly I realised that was not all that Harry wanted to tell me. I opened my eyes.

“Harry … what did I miss?”

He spoke calmly, almost too calmly.

“For a month we won’t be able to do anything.” I raised myself and leaned on the sofa. My eyes were big. His words sent a wave of mixed emotions through my body and my mind.

“What do you mean?” I asked finally.

“Next race is in Spa.” He let the words echo through the room. I was terrified.

Each year there was almost a month’s break until the Belgium race started. My hands were tied. In this period of time there was no way to get closer to the boy, as Crest went back to his home in England. Silent tears started to slip down my cheeks.

The following week back in Paris was a living hell—for me and for Harry, and I’d caused it. I was bored and, because of that. I thought too much.

Harry went back to his office and I stayed there in the apartment with nothing to do. On Wednesday he came back home when I was already asleep. It killed me. He apologised, but there had been so much work that had piled up when we’d been away and he needed to make sure everything was as it should be.

I knew that was not the main reason. The main reason he stayed so late in his office was me. I knew I had behaved in an impossible way but I just couldn’t help myself. When bored, I was a nagger. Harry tolerated me … long enough.

“Where are you going?” I’d asked him on Thursday morning. I was coming out of my room and he was already at the door.

“To the office—we have a conference.” Harry said.

“Again?” My eyes were full of accusation. He came back to me and kissed my forehead.

“I’m sorry I came home late yesterday…”

“You’re sorry my ass, Harry. You’re avoiding me!” I snapped and went into the kitchen. He followed me.

“Desiree, what can I do? Tell me. What? We can’t go…”

“Really? We can’t?!” I turned around and faced him. “Why can’t we? We know Crest. We dined with the man…” That was when he finally exploded:

“Because we can’t, Desiree! I know and understand you want to be sure about the boy, but James has no evidence the boy is your son!”

We were both silent for some moments. Finally his eyes met mine again.

“You stay here and I will be back from work at noon to take you to lunch. I love you, Sis.”

When the doors closed on him, I’d realised I’ve gone too far.

We needed a break—a break from each other. In the past three years we’d completely forgotten how to live together. We had our separate lives. The tension between us wasn’t helped by the fact that we were waiting for the next race, and waiting for even more information from Harry’s private detective. Our nerves were on edge.

When Harry finally left that morning, I knew I must do something. I didn’t want to stay in Paris, but Harry had told me not to leave, just in case there was some news. I needed to get out of the city, and where best to go than to my own home? As my car was in Nice, I knew the only option I had was to take the train.

It was seven in the morning. I wondered if I’d already missed the train to Nice. Opening the laptop Harry had on his desk, I quickly searched the web. I was lucky: I found the train to Monaco was leaving the Gare de Lyon at ten minutes to nine.

I booked the ticket and ran out of the apartment. I found a taxi outside and was soon on my way to the rail station. It felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from me.

“On the right you can see the Eiffel Tower,” the taxi driver said in broken English. I nodded in response. A long time ago I had learned that I couldn’t say anything negative about that ugly metal thing. The last time I had, I was thrown out of the taxi in the pouring rain without my umbrella. I had learned my lesson. Never ever say anything bad about the Eiffel Tower to Parisian taxi drivers.

Because of the traffic, it took me almost an hour to get to the Gare de Lyon. All I had with me was my handbag. Everything else was still in Harry’s flat.

For a few days my brother avoided me like the plague. It looked like Lorcan had also listened to Harry’s words not to mess with my head. He didn’t call me either. I wasn’t sure if I liked the situation. I knew I should be more focused on current events around the search for my son, but there was no new information.

Boarding the train was quick and, not much later, the TGV was on its way with me on board. A memory from my past rose from the depths of my mind: I’d ridden this train more than once before.

The first time, I had followed Juan to Spain, to San Sebastian. In the six months we had spent together I had been in heaven and then I was thrown into hell.

The second time, I went back to London to tell my brother the truth. Half of the journey I spent in tears. While crossing the English Channel, I managed to get a grip on myself. I knew I couldn’t back down. I was alone, yet I was not alone anymore. I’d needed to break the news to Harry cautiously. The memories overwhelmed me completely as my mind wandered back to that time.

“Harry, I have news for you.” I’d said when I had entered his office in London.

He’d raised his head from the sketches he had on his table, smiling at me. We hadn’t seen each other for almost a year.

“You’re finally home,” he’d greeted me and taken me into his big embrace. I was nineteen at the time.

“Am I interrupting something important?” I’d asked.

“You, D.D? Never. I missed you.” He’d pushed away the sketches and leaned against the desk. “What is it? Take a seat.”

I’d shaken my head and taken his arm.

“No. Not here.” His eyes had been full of questions. After all my tears on the train in France, I had found a new joy in life.

“Fine. Let’s go out. Lunch?” I’d smiled. Hand in hand we’d left the large office building.

“So, what’s going on?” he’d asked the minute we’d stepped out onto the pavement. I had shaken my head again and flagged down a taxi instead.

“Hyde Park, please.”

“Hold on to your horses, D.D. … I haven’t got.” Harry started, but I interrupted him.

“Harry, when do we usually go to the park?” I asked.

“When we have something important to say to each other,” he’d said and leaned back on the seat.

“When did we start with this tradition?” We’d looked at each other and Harry had slowly nodded his head. We’d both remembered that day. It was the day after the death of our parents and he had needed to break the news to me.

The news he’d had to share with me was cruel and I was barely six years old. He was twenty-one and not sure if I would understand or how I’d react.

It’d been our father’s fault that the traffic accident had happened. He’d driven off the road and crashed into the only tree in the field. They were killed instantly.

We, or at least I, were lucky. Harry was allowed to take care of me. Otherwise, who knows what would have happened to us—to me?

Since then, we always went to Hyde Park if we needed to tell each other something important. During those years I always waited for some big news from Harry; that he was going to be married, for example. Yet no such news ever came from him. That made me sad, but somehow I was quite selfishly satisfied. He was mine.

Before we’d entered the Park, the following words exploded from my mouth:

“I’m pregnant. You’re going to be an uncle.” I’d started to jump as I’d done in the past with pure joy. Yet Harry had remained silent. Shocked.

“What?” he’d finally said. I’d stopped jumping and looked at him, realising that he couldn’t believe my words. He’d thought I was joking. I’d finished school, but he’d hoped I would go to university and join the business. A child? Not that early. I’d looked at him. I was even more serious than when he’d had to tell me we’d become orphans.

“How?” he’d asked.

The expression on my face had shown him that he’d asked me a stupid question.

“I didn’t mean that. Tell me everything.”

While walking through Hyde Park, I’d told him everything: how I’d met Juan, how I’d fallen in love with him and how I’d decided to finish the cooking course when he’d left Paris and I had followed him to Spain, where he had lived.

When I finished that part of the story Harry had stayed silent. He gave no indication as to what he was thinking. We’d walked quite a few yards and I knew he was thinking of everything I’d told him. Suddenly he’d stopped walking and stepped in front of me, his brown eyes searching my face.

“You didn’t tell me everything,” he’d finally said. “How long…”

I’d interrupted him.

“Ten weeks. I learned a few days ago.” I’d turned around. The inevitable unspoken question waited to be spoken.

“When I will meet Juan?” I’d stared over the Serpentine.

“You won’t. He vanished after I broke the news. The next day he was gone.”

“My God, D.D, are you serious?” I had simply nodded.

“Yes. It will be only three of us, Harry. You, me and the child!” And I’d started to cry again.