Authors: Sally Clements
Brianne winced.
Andie drained her coffee. “I’ll leave you…” They didn’t need a stranger sitting in to what would be a private moment.
“You don’t need to, Andie,” Brianne said. “After all, there’s not much more to say, is there?” Her upper lip wobbled. “Work comes first.”
Ryan grasped his sister’s hand. He didn’t contradict her, and Andie’s heart flipped. Now was the time to tell Brianne how much he regretted not being there, not to sit silently.
She stared, feeling a frown between her eyes.
“I’m sorry.” Ryan passed a hand through his hair. “This interview is important.”
Pain flickered in Brianne’s eyes. Her throat moved. “No biggie, Ryan. At least we have today.”
Andie saw relief lighten Ryan’s features. His sister had just handed him a get-out-of-jail-free card. And, choosing to block the unspoken disappointment in her eyes, he’d accepted it.
Anger flared, and then faded to simmering disappointment. She shouldn’t interfere. After all, this was their history, nothing to do with her. “I’ll still be here—unless you’d prefer that I leave when Ryan goes.”
“I’d like you to stay,” Brianne said softly. “I’d like that a lot.”
*****
Ryan’s cell phone rang. He reached across the table and flipped it open.
Ben’s tone was urgent. “Are you watching this?”
Ryan pushed back the chair and strode to the television. “What channel?”
“
Every
channel. John managed to post a report via videophone last night, and Arnat’s giving a press conference.”
Ryan stabbed the power button, and grabbed the remote control. Adrenalin dried his mouth. Damn, he’d missed it. Last night, instead of drinking cocoa with bloody marshmallows—
like a girl
—he should have followed his instincts and been scouring the channels for breaking news.
A close up of Arnat’s face came onto the screen. He recognized Laila and some of the others from the party lined up behind a bank of microphones.
Ben’s voice sounded in his ear, “We’ve moved up your flight. Call in to the office this afternoon for a briefing.”
“Got it.” Ryan closed the phone and focused all his attention on the screen.
“What’s going on?” Andie asked.
He glanced over. “There’s been a coup. The military switched sides and Arnat’s giving a news conference.” Barely aware of the fact that Andie sank down on the sofa while Brianne walked out into the sunlight, he upped the volume and watched events unfold.
Thoughts whirred through Ryan’s mind like metronome clicks. As well as the interview with Arnat, they needed to find some human interest stories. Eyewitness accounts describing the coup as it had happened, and an analysis of the possible contenders for the next government. Arnat was pretty much a shoo-in for Prime Minister, and as Laila stood next to him, no doubt he saw a role for her in the new government, but there would be bound to be other parties spawned in the aftermath. In the new, democratic system that Arnat had advocated, the people would have to have their say.
On screen, Arnat spoke eloquently about the people’s struggle. The need for calm. He urged people not to resort to violence, and called for moderation.
The crowd chanted his name, but the threat of violence was palpable. There was always an element that reveled in chaos, used it to their own ends. The days following a coup were always dangerous ones.
As the news conference ended, his phone rang again.
“Who’s handling what interviews need to be done?” Ryan asked before Ben had a chance to speak. “We need an expert for analysis, on-the-ground interviews…”
“John’s doing his best, but bloody Mike is out of it. After handing in his notice, he announced that he would be taking the two weeks holiday owed. He’s lying on a beach somewhere. Tenerife, I think.”
Ryan cursed and gripped the phone tight. “Can’t he…”
Ben’s voice was tight with tension. “No. He can’t. I rang him last night, and asked. He told me to shove it. He’s burned out and starting a new job the moment his holiday with the wife is over. In
soft
news.” Ben’s tone revealed his feelings about current affairs programming. “We’re on our own.” His voice lowered. “I need you, Ryan.”
“I’ll draw up a list and bring it with me.” Ryan’s mind buzzed with all the complex threads that would need to be pulled together to ensure the coverage his station provided made them the must-watch source of unfolding events.
“Thanks, mate.” Ben’s voice was filled with relief. “See you later.”
The phone call over, Ryan turned to Andie. Her gaze was on the screen, where re-runs of fighting on the streets were playing. All traces of color had leached from her face, and her hands curled into fists.
“The footage is from earlier, the fighting has ceased now.” Ryan placed his hand on top of hers. “Over the next days, it’ll be dangerous—there’s always an element that tries to take advantage of unrest to further their own ends. It won’t last long.”
She stared at him. “When are you leaving?”
Pain clenched in Ryan’s chest. She’d heard his words; there was no point in trying to soften the blow. “This afternoon. Ben has changed my flight. You can come into London with me.”
Andie shook her head. “You’ll be busy. I’m not coming to the airport.” Her mouth thinned. “It’ll be hard enough without that.”
She was right. Even now, his thoughts were consumed by the task at hand and the extra work he needed to focus on to ensure that the overall coverage of events was handled correctly.
He stroked her hair.
She jerked away, body stiffening. “Don’t, Ryan.” Her voice broke. “I don’t want to feel like this, you need to be focused in order to stay safe, but I feel…” Her gaze dropped, and he had to strain to hear her whispered words. “When I think of you in the midst of that,” she gestured to the footage on the television. “I’m frightened.”
Always before, leaving, he’d felt annoyance that anyone should try to influence his decision by revealing their feelings, but now, seeing the fear in her eyes, his heart softened. “I’ll be careful, I promise. Nothing will happen. When it’s all over, I’ll be back.”
Andie shook her head. “I’ve been through this before, remember?” A sad smile hovered. “You’ll want to come back, want to be with me.” She turned her hand over to meet his, palm to palm. “Being a war correspondent is in your DNA, and after a while you’ll go back. You’ll have to go back.”
“Andie—”
“Yes.” Andie’s grip tightened. “We always knew this relationship had a time limit. I’ve accepted that, and you must too. I can’t be the woman waiting at home, watching the television every night, and panicking when I can’t reach you on the phone. It would destroy me.” The truth of her words shone from her eyes. “It’s over, Ryan. If you care, you won’t contact me again. We both need to go back to our lives.”
Her lips touched his in a soft caress. “Be safe.”
“Andie,” Ryan growled. “Be reasonable, let’s talk about this.”
“No.” She pulled away and stood up. “I’ll stay here with Brianne for a couple of days, and then return home. I care about you, Ryan, but I can’t put myself through this. I thought every challenge was conquerable, but I now know that this is one challenge I can’t rise to. Please don’t make it any harder.”
She touched his hair. Then half-walked half-ran to the French windows, out into the sunlight streaming across the back garden.
Every molecule of his body rioted to follow. To pull her into his arms and tell her how it wasn’t over. His leaden legs refused to co-operate. He had to go. Last night he’d been so distracted he’d missed the breaking news from Bekostan. The interview with Arnat had been his most important goal for so long, it couldn’t just be abandoned.
Months ago, when the news had come into the hotel that Arnat had agreed to an interview, Ryan had been absent, attending a press conference. Emily, aware that the opportunity might be a fleeting one, had stepped in instantly, and gone in his stead. If he’d been there, they may have gone together, but the possibility existed he would have gone alone.
He
would have been the reporter killed, while Emily would have been alive to return to her daughter.
The guilt had eaten away at him steadily since Emily’s death. Even the absolution Andie had so generously given, hadn’t banished the knowledge that her mother might not have died if he’d been in the hotel on that fateful hour.
He’d seen the caring in Andie’s eyes. Knew if he used all his powers of persuasion, he could convince her to reconsider, to wait for him rather than to walk away. It wouldn’t be fair. She’d already suffered enough.
His heart clenched. She was right. He had to let her go.
*****
How was it possible to feel so cold with the sun’s rays falling on her skin? Andie walked slowly down the garden, spotting Brianne’s studio in amongst the verdant undergrowth.
A bird sang overhead. The bright mass of color of the flowerbeds was the same as yesterday, and the sun shone from the sky. It was still a beautiful day, but a dark fog clouded her heart.
Who was she kidding?
There was no way on earth to shut off the terror that flowed like mercury through her veins. No way to not watch every single bulletin on Bekostan without her heart clenching in pain at the possibility that Ryan was in danger. She’d had to pretend she still had that ability.
For his sake
.
Better that he should feel anger, than be distracted by worry. He’d need all his wits about him. In time, he’d forget her. Get all caught up in his work. She’d seen the light of fervent interest that had lit in his eyes when the telephone call came. As though his life-force had been jolted with a surge of electricity, with a surge of passion.
He cared for her. His words and actions showed that, but walking away from his life’s work… She sighed as she reached the studio door, and rested a palm against its smooth wooden surface. Walking away from Bekostan would kill something inside him.
She slowly pushed the door open.
Brianne was painting. Angry slashes of scarlet bisected a dark blue canvas. She wielded a brush like a sword, all her focus on the painting before her.
“Hey,” Andie murmured.
Brianne hesitated mid-stroke, and then put the brush down on the table next to the painting. “He’s going, isn’t he?”
Andie nodded. “This afternoon.”
A most unladylike curse burst from Brianne’s lips. “I knew it. I just knew it was too good to last.” Her eyes filled with tears.
In rapid strides, Andie reached her side, and pulled Brianne into her arms.
“I’m so angry with him.” Brianne sobbed. “I hate the fact he’s putting himself into danger every single day.” She raised her tear stained face. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t...” She gulped in air. “I shouldn’t say this to you, you must be hurting too, but I can’t say it to him, I can’t stop him.”