Secrets From the Past (29 page)

Read Secrets From the Past Online

Authors: Barbara Taylor Bradford

Tags: #Romance, #Fiction, #Contemporary, #General

‘I do. It was like a Mistral had blown up. Is that what caused the trouble? Damaged the roof? The slates?’

‘So the roofing people tell me. However, it’s not just a bit of roof, it really is a great chunk, and unfortunately a large part of the damage is over Mom’s octagonal room.’

‘Oh no, Jess! I can’t bear it!’ I exclaimed, feeling a rush of sadness. ‘I hope not too much of it has been destroyed.’

‘A good bit of the ceiling and the top of one wall, but not near the fireplace.’

‘Thank God, otherwise the painting of Mom would probably have been damaged.’

‘That’s safe. In fact all of the furnishings are. The damage is on the other side of the room, near the door. Anyway, the roofing guys will be coming in to start work on the house tomorrow. There’s other damage to the roof, over the kitchen, and on the ceilings in two guest bedrooms. Quite a lot of work, Pidge.’

‘Do you want me to send you some money?’ I asked at once.

‘No, of course not. Cara and I can manage the down payment—’

‘But I want to contribute,’ I cut in peremptorily.

‘Listen, I didn’t call just to give you bad news, Serena. I have some good news as well. A lucky break, you might call it.’

‘What kind of lucky break?’ I asked, riddled with curiosity.


A man.
Whose wife was a big fan of Mom’s when she was alive. Anyway, Rita Converse, that’s her name, was looking at Stone’s website the other day, and saw the glamorous photograph of Mom I’d posted recently, announcing the auction of Mom’s jewellery next year. In the photo Mom’s wearing that gorgeous pearl-and-diamond Harry Winston necklace, earrings, ring and bracelet. The whole suite. And the woman began to drool over it, seemingly. She told her husband she would love to have it for her wedding anniversary present. To cut to the chase, as Harry would say, Tom Converse wants to come and view the jewels, and make a preemptive bid
now
, long before the auction. He doesn’t want to wait until next year.’

‘Hey, that’s just great, Jess! A lucky break, indeed. When’s he coming?’

‘Sometime next week. The thing is, Pidge, the earrings that are a part of that set are the ones Mom left you. The diamond flowers with the pearl drops. They belong to you, Serena.’

‘No they don’t, they belong to the three of us. Anyway, you can’t sell the necklace without the earrings. They go together, so go ahead and do it, and get as much as you can. Mom left us all some of her jewellery for a rainy day, and that was one helluva rainy night.’

I was preparing the dinner, stirring the meat, when I heard the front door slam, and a second later Zac was striding into the kitchen.

There was a huge smile on his face, and I couldn’t help thinking how great he looked this afternoon. He was definitely his old self, as handsome as always, with his thick dark hair and those laughing green eyes. He had lost that starved look, which had made him seem diminished, and last weekend, July Fourth weekend, out on Long Island, he had acquired a tan. He wasn’t movie-star good looking like his father Patrick was, but he cut quite a swathe, and had a unique aura about him.

‘Hi, darling,’ he said, and grabbed hold of me, kissed me on the mouth, before I could greet him in return. In fact I was still holding the wooden spoon in one hand.

I saw the exuberance, the excitement in him, and I laughed as I stepped back, holding the spoon high, and explained, ‘I don’t want to get meat sauce on your white shirt. And what’s happened? You’re certainly in a very happy mood.’

‘Pidge, I am. Really happy. Because I’ve come up with a great name for my book. At least, I think it’s great. I don’t know how you’ll react, though.’

‘So go on, tell me, and you’ll know what I think immediately, since you claim you can read me so well.’

‘Okay,’ he answered, leaning against the island in the middle of the kitchen, his eyes roaming over me for a moment, appraisingly. ‘You do look sexy in that short little dress, Pidge. Good enough to eat. You make my mouth water.’

I knew he was teasing me, that he was in a playful mood, but then when he moved towards me I realized he was keen to pull me into his arms, had more serious intentions.

I dodged him, exclaimed, ‘Don’t come near me. You know I’ll succumb to your charms instantly. And then you won’t have any dinner tonight.’

‘I don’t care, I’ll make do with you,’ he shot back, and winked.

‘I’m making a cottage pie, one of your favourites. So come on, tell me the title you’ve come up with.’

He nodded. ‘It’s
Semper Fi
.’

I stared at him for a split second, puzzled, and then I exclaimed, ‘Oh, that has to do with the Marines, doesn’t it?’

‘Yes. It’s short for
Semper Fidelis
, which is Latin for “always faithful”, the Marine Corps motto. What it actually means is:
always faithful to the country’s call
. But for all Marines it means faithful to each other. Let’s not forget that Marines never leave their buddies behind – they bring out their dead as well as their wounded. I’ve almost always been standing next to a Marine on the front line, and I admire them greatly. And my memoir is mostly about my days on the battlegrounds … with Marines as my buddies. So it works for me.’

‘I do know that, Zac, and the title is very appropriate. I like it a lot. No, correction, I love it.’ I put the spoon down, and took off my apron. ‘It’s a wonderful title. Works for me, too. And so we must toast it right now.’

I reached into the fridge, took out the bottle of pink Veuve Clicquot, and handed it to Zac. ‘Please open it, and I’ll drain the potatoes for the pie, so they don’t disintegrate.’

He had a huge smile on his face once again, as he popped the champagne cork, then took two crystal flutes out of the cupboard.

‘I’m so glad you think the title works, Serena. I trust your judgement. I’ll try it on Harry later, but since you like it so much, that’s it for me.
Semper Fi
it is.’

We clinked glasses, and drank some champagne, and then Zac said, ‘Let’s go into your mom’s sitting room for a minute or two, there’s something else I want to tell you.’ He picked up the bottle of champagne.

I simply nodded, and followed him out of the kitchen, holding my glass.

We settled on the sofa, and Zac said in a more serious, somewhat subdued voice, ‘I know you’re not going to like hearing this, Serena, but I feel I have to go to Libya, to cover the uprising, and—’

‘Oh Zac, no!’ I cried, taken by surprise, my heart dropping. ‘You promised you’d never go back to the front line. I won’t let you, you can’t.’ I sat staring at him, aghast.

‘But it’s not like the usual war zone, it’s an uprising, taking place in the streets of Tripoli. I want to go, just for a week or two. I thought—’

‘But what about your book?’ I interjected, cutting him off once more.

‘I’ll put it on one side for a couple of weeks … and what I was starting to say was that I want you to come with me. Let’s do it, Pidge. For old times’ sake. One last assignment together as photojournalists, sort of like one last throw of the dice.’

‘It might well be one last throw of the dice in the worst way. We might get killed. You’ve lost your edge, and so have I. And anyway, Harry would never let us go. He’d block us. He’s afraid for us, Zac, I know that. He wants us to have a happy life together.’ I paused, tears coming into my eyes, but I swallowed them back.

He put down his glass, and drew closer, put his arm around my shoulders, held me tightly. ‘Nothing’s going to happen to us, Serena. We’ll go in and out. Two weeks max. Come on, say yes. Come with me, be my old buddy, as you’ve always been. I’ll have your back, you’ll have mine, and we’ll do a great job together. And then we’ll come out, and stay out. Forever.’

When I was silent, he said again, ‘I promise.’

I drew back, stared at him coldly. ‘You promised you’d quit, that the front line would never tempt you again.’

‘I know. But this is different, and you’re aware of that. This is an uprising. The people against an overbearing government. Against the Gaddafi regime.’

‘There are many uprisings, not just one in Tripoli – they’re springing up all over Libya.’

‘I want to get the truth out. The world must know what’s going on there.’

‘Other war correspondents and war photographers are doing that, Zac. We’re not needed. Let others risk their lives.’

‘Yes we are needed. We’re not just the best, we’re better. Harry will let us go. Come on, relent, say yes. We’ve always been a team, like Harry and Tommy were.’

Not quite, I thought, and remained silent. I wondered how long Zac had been planning this little speech, and then decided he hadn’t planned it. He had said all of this on the spur of the moment. He was manipulative at times, and he had an easy, very persuasive charm, but he was not calculating. I was certain of that.

‘Why are you so quiet?’ he asked, turning my face to his, looking into my eyes, his own loving and warm.

‘I don’t think I can make a decision at this moment,’ I said at last. ‘I have to think about it.’

T
HIRTY
-S
EVEN


I
think there is a fine line being drawn here,’ I said quietly, and shifted slightly in the chair, adjusting my linen jacket.

‘I’m not sure what you mean,’ Harry answered, puzzlement flickering in his blue eyes. ‘Who is drawing the fine line?’

‘Zac is.’ I paused, then half smiled. ‘Or perhaps it’s me; maybe I’m the one doing it.’

I realized he still didn’t quite understand what I was getting at, and added, ‘Zac says that going to Libya is not going back to the front line, because it’s an uprising in the streets, civilians confronting soldiers. I say it is a front line, because the civilians are armed like soldiers. That it’s a dangerous place, and our lives are at risk. But he won’t have any of that.’

‘Well, he’s wrong, Serena, and you’re right. I’m not sure I’d call it drawing a fine line, though, I think it’s more like splitting hairs. But whatever we call it, Tripoli, Benghazi, Sirte, and all those other Libyan cities are indeed battlegrounds, and highly dangerous places to be. I certainly won’t allow you to go. And I won’t allow Zac to go on his own either. It’s too soon after leaving Afghanistan for him to be in the line of fire. He’s not ready yet; in fact he might never be ready. He’s lost his edge.’

‘So we’re on the same page, Harry. But try and convince him we’re right. You won’t succeed. He’s very stubborn, and once again possessed of that supreme self-confidence. He’s sure he knows better than anyone else.’ I shook my head. ‘It’s only a few months since I was flying off to Venice, to help him recover his health and wellbeing, and to cope with his bouts of PTSD.’

‘I know. He told me he didn’t want to be a war photographer any longer, wanted a normal life. With you.’ Harry raised an eyebrow, the expression in his eyes quizzical. He also seemed concerned to me, but then I was important to him, and he wanted only the best for me.

There was a moment of silence, and then I said, ‘He actually made a promise to me, Harry. Zac said he would never go back to the front line. And now he’s broken that promise. And can you believe it: he doesn’t understand why I’m upset? Actually, “disappointed” would be a better word to use.’

‘Oh, now I understand. I see what you’re getting at. Zac thinks he didn’t break his promise to you, because he’s not actually going to the front line … just to Tripoli, a city in disarray. Is that it, honey?’ He leaned back in his chair, his loving gaze on me.

‘Yep, that’s it,’ I answered. ‘Listen, I’m not only disappointed. To be honest, I’m not sure that I can trust him again.’

‘That’s understandable, but let’s not be too hasty, Serena. He hasn’t left yet. And where do you two stand, actually? How’s your relationship?’

‘It’s okay, because we didn’t quarrel last night. He told me he wanted to go to Libya, to cover what’s happening there, and added that he wanted me to come with him. When I said I’d have to think about that, because I wasn’t at all sure we should do it, he let it drop. I told him I’d give him a decision later.’

‘So no big rows?’ Harry asked softly.

‘No, not at all. To be honest, I was so shocked when he mentioned Libya I was incapable of saying very much. So I just let the evening roll along. We had supper, watched a movie, went to bed. Everything was normal. This morning, when I was leaving, he was just getting up. I said I had a lot of errands. He simply said, ‘See you later,’ and gave me a big hug. And I left.’

The phone on Harry’s desk began to ring, and he answered it. I sat back in the chair, glancing around, looking at all the familiar photographs on the wall and Harry’s awards. My office here at Global Images was pretty much the same; it had been Dad’s, and was filled with all of his mementos, awards and pictures; I felt very at home in it. But then, I’d known it all of my life. I now owned this company with Harry, but that never sank in. I let him run it the way he wanted, as he and Dad had run it always.

Harry hung up and went on, ‘So he’s not made a song and dance about it, and that’s good. Perhaps he’s not as self-confident as you think. The other thing is, he does have to talk to me, be accredited to the agency, and we have to make all the arrangements for him to fly off. He can’t just do it all on his own, and you know that.’

‘And when he does show up, to announce that he wants to go to Libya, what will you say?’ I asked.


No.
That’s what I’m going to say. No, he can’t go. I’m going to tell him I won’t allow it. First, I’ll remind him that he had more or less retired from war photography. Next, I’ll point out that he made a commitment to you, promised he wouldn’t go back to battlegrounds. I think I shall also explain that, in my opinion, he’s not ready to be in the line of fire, that it’s too soon after his trials in Afghanistan.’

There was a small pause, and then Harry continued. ‘To be very honest with you, Serena, I would be extremely worried about Zac’s safety. It’s very chaotic out there, from what I’m hearing from our guys. Don’t fret, honey, Zac will get the absolute truth from me. No holds barred.’

‘Oh, I know he will, Harry. And listen, I’ve had another thought.’ I leaned over his desk, and said slowly, ‘It could be a bit of bravado on his part. A longing to be back at the front, yet knowing he’s not really up to it.’ I flashed Harry a smile. ‘It’ll turn out all right, you’ll see.’

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