Harry’s car was still missing; he was not back yet. I wondered how quickly he would follow me.
Driving fast soon calmed me down. The road that led from the Crest estate to the main road was narrow but clean on the turns, so I didn’t need to use the brakes. I didn’t run into any other cars. Most of all I was afraid I would run into Harry. I was not in any condition to explain to him why I was leaving.
I took the main road that was before me, so I was heading back to Dover by the coastal road. I was heading back … to home? Paris was never my home, or Nice. I knew I couldn’t return to Monte Carlo. The best thing for everyone would be if I truly vanished from the face of the earth. But it was not quite that simple. Harry didn’t deserve it.
After a two hour drive I stopped in Hythe for a coffee. I constantly checked the rear view mirror and was reassured that I was not being followed by anyone.
I stopped abruptly after leaving the coffee shop. There they were; both of them. Lorcan had parked his Mercedes behind my car, blocking it. Slowly, I approached them.
“What are you doing?” Harry asked me as I stared at the hood of the car. I didn’t want to look at Lorcan, so I looked at Harry in silence. He shook his head.
“I got your letter.”
“Then why you are asking?” I said impatiently. Lorcan still didn’t move. He was leaning on the hood of my BMW.
“Did you tell him?” The question surprised me.
“Are you crazy? Of course not!”
“You should have…” Harry said, but I shook my head vigorously.
“I’m not going to.”
Harry grabbed my hands and shook me hard.
“Yes! You will! He has the right to know!” I was shocked. Harry never acted that way. No matter what happened he had never lost his temper. The tears I’d held back since I’d left the Crest estate started to run down my face.
“Harry, stop it!” said Lorcan. I looked at him. Lorcan’s face paled for a second, like being in shock by what he’d witnessed. But in a split second his eyes got that stormy glow again. He was furious.
“We agreed that you don’t meddle, Lorcan,” Harry responded but he let go of my arm.
All the pain I’d nurtured inside me started to rise from the bottom of my heart and soul, and threatened to consume me. I thought I would go completely insane.
I dried my eyes with my palms and finally looked at both men. They were still arguing.
“Will you two please stop?” I said quietly. Turning back to Harry, I asked,
“Are you sure?”
He nodded.
“Yes, otherwise he will find out in tomorrow’s newspapers.”
“What do you mean?” Lorcan and I spoke in the same voice; but I knew. The press had dug up my past. It was my own fault.
“Right,” I said slowly. “I’ll tell him.”
Lorcan looked a little bit lost. He was completely unaware of the kind of mess he’d fallen into when he had met me. I felt sorry for him. Harry opened the passenger door and looked at Lorcan.
“Now go. Sit down and talk. I’ll be waiting here for you.”
Leaving Harry with Lorcan’s Mercedes by the coffee shop, Lorcan and I drove to Princes Parade. I parked near the beach path and we sat on the barrier. I wanted my story to be brief, but once I started to talk, I couldn’t stop.
Lorcan was silent. He didn’t say a word or ask any questions and I was grateful for that. All he did was hold my hand. People were probably watching us, but my eyes were turned to the sea.
After I was finished, he wanted to say something, but I put my hand over his mouth. I didn’t need any comforting words from him. No reassurance that everything would be all right. My soul felt lighter just from telling him what I’d kept in for so long.
As he followed me back to the car, I hoped he might understand me.
Harry had waited where he said he would. As soon as he saw us he got out of the car. I didn’t dare look at Lorcan. The day had been surreal—it was as if it had happened in a different dimension. But then again, my whole life was in turmoil. Why would one day be different from the rest?
“I will wait for you in Paris, Harry,” I said to my brother. I saw the men exchange looks when I was seated behind the steering wheel.
“Doing what?” Harry asked me. I turned the engine on and said with a voice full of sorrow,
“Burying my son.”
Coming back to the empty apartment made me cry all over again. Pictures from my short months with my son flashed before my eyes. It was remarkable and it was healing. I hadn’t let myself do this in years. I saw it all.
I was redecorating a room in the apartment for the baby; buying everything a nursery needs: a crib, a changing table, rocking chair for me, a new wardrobe for too many clothes Harry and I had bought, and toys: so many toys. Harry even hired an artist to paint beautiful pictures on the walls of the room.
I saw myself holding him after bringing him home into our apartment, feeding him, playing with him. Most of all, what I saw was his green eyes, my eyes, actually. I admitted that to myself—I had seen him every time I looked at myself in the mirror.
I did what I needed to do to finally let go of my son. In my heart I started to prepare myself to say my final goodbyes.
I sat at my desk all night writing a letter. I poured my heart out and it was all that I was able to do. All that I’d told Lorcan a few hours back on the beach in Hythe, I wrote down in the letter to my son. I knew he would never get it, but it was the only way that I could tell him.
I walked to the Champ de Mars and after more than an hour of staring at the spot where Iain was taken from me, I released a helium balloon with the letter attached. That was it. That was my goodbye.
When I returned to the apartment, all I could do was sleep. I was woken by Harry the next morning. He didn’t ask, and I didn’t tell him anything. I had closed that chapter of my life and was completely clueless as what to do next.
That morning all we said was ‘good morning’ and, before he left for his office, he hugged me goodbye.
The day was long and even though I had slept through the night, sleep took me again. I hadn’t eaten all day and that was fine.
Soon after we sat down in our favourite restaurant, he realised that taking me out for dinner had not been such a good idea. I was subdued so he did all the talking. I’d learned the details of the business agreement he and Daniel Crest, or better, in Harry’s own words ‘The House of Dame and the Crest Formula 1 Racing Team’ had made.
“That includes you too,” he continued, raising his glass of wine. I raised my head and looked at him.
“What do you mean?” He drank what was left in the glass and, after putting it down, the waiter came and filled it again. Harry waited until he’d gone away and I knew he was stalling. Before he managed to take another bite of the food that was on our plates, I put my cutlery back on the table.
“I asked you something.”
Harry shrugged.
“It was Crest’s demand.”
“Crest or…” Harry looked at me.
“I said Crest and I meant it. Lorcan was not in the meeting. Daniel is flying to Paris on Friday and by then the contract must be ready. He wants to sign the papers. Desiree, this is not a small thing. This will secure us a spot on the fashion map. This is it.”
“So why don’t you just sponsor the team?” I asked.
He looked angrily at me and put down his knife and fork.
“Because we don’t need just advertising. Didn’t you listen?” he hissed. I stayed silent. I realised I was upsetting Harry for no apparent reason. He was watching me carefully. After some moments he pushed his plate away and drank his wine.
The sight of an empty glass on the table brought the waiter back. Before he’d managed to refill the glass, Harry stopped him and asked for the bill. We waited for it in silence.
After we said good night, I asked Harry something that had been bothering me.
“You said we both own the House of Dame.”
Harry looked at me.
“Yes, it’s official since you turned twenty-one.”
I shrugged my shoulders.
“That makes me involved already. Why are you panicking?”
He watched me closely. Somehow I knew that this did not bring any comfort to him.
“It’s not just your signature on the papers. Actually we don’t even need your signature…”
“I realise that.” I was calm. I knew the lightning would strike soon enough.
“You will learn what your involvement will be, on Friday. Crest will explain.”
Harry turned and went into his workroom.
When he closed the door, I went into kitchen. I opened the wine cabinet and took out a bottle and, with a wine glass, returned to my room. I knew I needed it.
Friday came and Harry insisted that I went with him to the office. I followed him grumpily and sat in the corner until all the papers were ready and Harry was pleased with them. He offered them to me to read but I shook my head. If he was pleased with them, then I had nothing to say. He was the heart and soul of the company; I was … actually I was nothing.
At ten o’clock sharp, Irene announced that Daniel Crest had arrived. When he came in, he greeted my brother like a long lost son … well, not exactly; more like a long lost friend. I thought that the pointless conversation they started would never end, and I watched and waited.
Daniel was seated when he spotted me sitting in the back corner on the sofa. He immediately got up and came to me.