Tripping on Love (15 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

My mother eyed me wearily as I made my way into the kitchen, the events of the previous night still plaguing me.
  I had lain awake for the remainder of the early hours in a state of utter disbelief. Any hope of catching much needed sleep had been cut short upon the arrival of my mother's aerobics group, hosted on the terrace. It had provided a slight distraction watching both men and women of varying ages prance around in ridiculous outfits to my mother's commands. Yet now it was over, the thoughts of H, the kidnap and Edward were resurfacing themselves.

Unaware of my ordeal, my mother proceeded to prepare me a large breakfast and suggest various plans for the day ahead. I stared tiredly and absentmindedly out of the window; zoning out from her voice.

'Coco's really taken a likening to you darling' my mother said as Coco snuggled into my lap with a small sigh, tucking her paws beneath her.

'Stella called last night when you were out. Nothing much to tell you. The children were in bed so I didn’t get to speak to them. Apparently she and Miles are looking into a short holiday away somewhere.'
 

I spun my head around to face my mother; senses suddenly heightened. Stella and Miles were planning a break away, together? That possibly meant that Stella had seen sense
and ended her office flirtation, concentrating instead on rebuilding her marriage. 

Trying to keep the relief from my voice, I gently moved
Coco to the floor and walked across to the sink. 

'That'll be nice for them. Stella's seemed a little stressed lately; the rest and recoup will be good for her.'
 

My mother nodded distractedly in agreement, cracking eggs into a frying pan.

'Yes, she's not been herself lately. I’ve noticed during our phone conversations she's been a bit snappy but I take no notice. She does work hard, our Stella. It's natural to get stressed.'

Shaking my head in annoyance, I turned away from her. As always Stella was the prodigal daughter. She couldn’t do any wrong in my mother's eyes. Even if she did find out about Stella's misdemeanour she would make excuses for her.
 

I, on the other hand, couldn’t do enough to earn my mother's approval. I shuddered thinking about how she'd react
knowing that I was involved in a kidnap. Furthermore, that I was one of the very few people that really knew of H's secret life as Malcolm, the petty criminal.

Yawning, I took another sip of my strong coffee, stomach churning at the sight of the greasy breakfast my mother was dishing onto a plate for me. My life had been on an upward trend; my work unexpectedly fulfilling, the short lived romance with Edward giving me hope, and the trip to
Spain a much needed time for adventure and fun. Why couldn’t anything go to plan? Even my friendship with Soreena was hanging in the balance. She hadn’t responded to any of my calls.

'Don't forget the charity auction is tomorrow evening darling. I suggest we go shopping for a suitable dress later this afternoon' my mother said
, placing the full plate of food in front of me.

Damn. I had totally forgotten about the charity auction. The icing on my currently stale cake. Tickets had already been purchased and my name had been added to the guest list. Excusing myself at this late stage wouldn’t be a possibility. I would have no choice but to attend.
 

'OK
, let's go shopping later. I have a few bits of work to tie up this morning' picking up my knife and fork I cut into the overcooked bacon. 

Lying didn’t come easily to me but it was the better alternative than being honest with my mother. She wouldn’t understand my need to be alone. I couldn’t think of anything more apt than locking myself away for a couple of hours and processing all that I’d been through in the past week. My mother reached for her handbag.

'Eat up. I’m popping out now to meet friends. Let's both try and be ready for when I get back, around two.' She walked towards the back door before turning around a final time. 'Sampson is at the gym, he should be back in another hour so you've a while to yourself.'

As soon as my mother left, I threw the remains of my breakfast into the dustbin. Climbing the stairs up to the first floor be
droom I was currently occupying, I was grateful for the hour of peace that stretched before me. Not only did I feel drained, I felt emotionally flat. Devoid of any feeling on my life and situation.

Coco
joined me on the bed as I stared up towards the ceiling, watching rainbow colours dance on the wall as the crystal light fitting refracted sunshine.

Psychic Rose had told me that there would be a great reveal in
Spain. Was that connected in some way to my kidnapping? And how far off was the mystery new love she had referred to?  In less than five months I would turn twenty nine and any hope of being married before the age of thirty was fast becoming slim.

My mobile phone shrilled loudly, causing
Coco to scuttle hurriedly from her position beside me and out of the room.  Annoyed at the interruption I grabbed the handset, seeing an unknown caller ID displayed.  

Tutting in frustration, I answered, knowing that it would be yet another call from one of Sasha's team regarding the hotel feature.

'Hello?' I snapped, not caring that my attitude wasn't professional. I'd spent more than enough hours going over the free marketing proposal for the launch. It wasn't fair to allow it to also cut into my holiday leave.

'Lizzie it's me.' My heart stopped beating as a burst of emotion sent waves through my entire being. Edward. My voice softened at the sound of him, unable to resist the feeling of hope and excitement.

'Edward, I wasn’t expecting to hear from you' my words were barely audible. The anger and dejection I’d felt for the last couple of days replaced with a feeling of vulnerability.

'Babe, I'm so sorry. I know I said I’d call and I didn’t. Something happened' he said slowly. His voice was filled with raw emotion. Concern rippled through me. Was he hurt?

'What's happened? Are you OK?'

'I'm fine, shocked at first, but now I’m OK. It's not really something I can discuss over the phone. I need to see you. Tell you everything.' He waited for me to answer as my heart pounded in my chest. The silence seemed to pass between us for moments before I found the right words.

'OK, let's meet but I'm not home for another four days. My flight doesn’t get in until Thursday morning.'

'Coincidence or fate' Edward laughed. 'Neither does mine. I'm on the eleven o’clock into Gatwick; let’s meet there? I’m flying out again soon after, so it's either then or waiting until the following Monday when I return?' he suggested.
 

Monday was anoth
er week away - I couldn’t wait that long. I needed to see Edward and I needed to hear his explanation. 

'Let's meet at Gatwick, I think I arrive slightly earlier that you do. I'll wait for you in one of the coffee shops. Call me when you land’ I instructed eagerly.

'OK, see you Thursday.' I could hear the relief and joy in his voice as we said our goodbyes.

Placing my mobile on the bedside table, a sensation of intense satisfaction involuntarily passed through me. He hadn't forgotten me. He still wanted to meet me. Why would he suggest meeting at the airport if he already had a girlfriend travelling with him? Wouldn’t that make it highly difficult for him? Could it simply be that something had really happened to prevent him calling?
 

I'd felt the same connection during our phone call that I’d felt every time we spoke or met. A frission of energy. Something deep inside was telling me that I had to hear Edward out. I had four days remaining to ponder whether to reopen the door to love. I only hoped I hadn’t made a grave mistake in allowing a man to once again wreck havoc with my emotions.

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

My mother was waiting impatiently for me in the living room, standing by the fireplace. She looked divine in a midnight blue floor length dress with a dragonfly shaped diamond encrusted broach, fixed delicately against it. Her face was thunderous.

'Where have you been? We're almost ready to leave' she scolded.
 

My eyes flitted towards Sampson relaxing in a chair on the terrace, his cravat not yet tied
, smoking a cigarette. He didn’t look any more in a rush than I did. Picking up the suit bag housing my exquisite gold sequinned dress, I folded it across my arm.

'Sorry I'm late; I've only got to put my dress on and I'm ready.'

My mother looked anxiously up at the clock above the fireplace, not seeming to have heard what I had said. She'd been acting strange for the last twenty four hours; it was unlike her to get nervous about attending a function. If anything, such an event would usually encourage her to become overly animated and excitable.

'Just hurry up. Be ready to leave in ten minutes' she snapped coolly at me.

I wasn’t going to entertain her mood. Walking out of the room, I rushed upstairs to slip on my dress. It hadn’t escaped my attention that my mother was wringing her hands nervously as I left the room. Something was very wrong.

----------

The dragonfly ball was being held in one of Marbella's most exclusive hotels. There was an air of excitement as we approached the venue. A red carpet had been laid out and photographers were fighting amongst themselves to get photos of the glitterati that graced the carpet. Amongst those attending, there was publicized to be various celebrities, a well known Hollywood movie star and even a Saudi prince. 

My mother had been suspiciously quiet the entire journey. She looked fraught with nerves as we walked towards the carpet and the main entrance. This was her chance to shine. Every year she had attended this ball and never once had she failed to make an elaborate entrance, posing shamelessly for photos.
 

I walked slightly ahead. I had no desire to be photographed for magazines. My dress clung perfectly and the hairdresser had done a superb job pinning my hair into a loose twirled bun. I could only think of wanting Edward to be here with me. My heart fluttered at the thought of seeing him in less than three days.
 

Spending most of the previous day weighing up my feelings towards him, had led to the conclusion that the connection we had was worth putting myself in harm’s way for. If Edward wanted to play me, this would be his last chance. Bu
t deep inside, I knew Edward was about to make everything right.

The photographers snapped away, calling out for attention as I passed them
. Half tempted to stop and pose, I quickly reconsidered as I almost tripped on the hem of my gown. I didn’t need my photograph in a magazine to make me feel special. Edward did that just by looking at me.  

It had been no use trying to put him from my mind. Any attempt at romance in
Spain had so far been disastrous. Nobody had measured up to him and I had to face facts; I had fallen slightly in love.

'Lizzie lift your shoulders back and stop walking like you're hunched over' my mother hissed from behind me. I turn
ed to her with a quizzical look - she hadn’t stopped for the photographers? 

'Why didn’t you get your photo taken?' I asked confused. My mother was acting more absurd by the minute. She'd usually be doing acrobatics at the flashing cameras. Instead she was busying herself with my composure. She looked at me like I'd asked a silly question.

'It’s not all about one having one's photos taken. There are more important things than one's ego' she chided, pushing her shoulders back and lifting her head a little higher.  

Oh goodness
- she was reverting to her posh voice already and we'd only just arrived. Sampson smiled knowingly at me, from beside her. I had never understood why she felt the need to change her way of speaking around people who intimidated her. I had once overheard her talking with a well known socialite and fondly refer to the royal family as 'distant relatives'.  Heaven only knows what the person must have thought, especially as my mother had been standing with a cigarette in one hand and an ashtray in the other. 

The main ball area was themed as a winter's ice wonderland, despite it being late spring. As I followed my mother and Sampson across the small bridge towards the large marquee, it was like stepping into a movie set.
 

Swans swam in the small stream beneath us that ran through the lush garden, people on stilts moved around us dressed as icicles, snowflakes and wonderland creatures. The large waterfall had been frozen over and smoky dry ice with blue tinted lighting provided a surreal illusion. Large ice sculptures sat proudly around the venue amongst icy arrays of seafood, shellfish and cold meats.

I looked towards one of the fountains providing free flowing champagne as a waiter appeared, and as if sensing my need for a drink, handed me an already filled glass. 

Spotting friends, my mother and Sampson headed off in their direction. I recognised the man as the Swedish one from my mother's gathering. The last thing I wanted was to spend another evening listening to his stories.
 

Walking over to the bar area, I sat down alone at one of the unoccupied tables. Soreena was due to be here anytime soon. I didn’t relish the idea of having to see H again, but since he'd been honest with her, it wasn’t my place to judge their relationship. If she wanted to be with him then that was her choice.
 

Thankful and relieved that she'd finally returned my calls and assured me there was no issue with our friendship, I didn’t want to push her any further on the matter.
 

My breathing quickened as I noticed Mark towards the far end of the crowd, his mother by his side and a tall elegant woman to his right, arm linked in his.
  I hoped my mother didn’t spot them.  She'd be devastated. Despite informing her of Soreena's revelations on his sexual prowess, she still held out hope that I might change my mind and entertain him as a boyfriend. I hadn’t dared to let her know I’d already rejected him. She would undoubtedly see it as the biggest social faux pas I could inflict on her.

'Lizzie' Sampson whispered coming up behind me, catching me unawares. Spinning my head around smiling, we came face to face.
 

'You startled me' I said lightly, noticing that his usual relaxed demeanour had vanished, replaced with anxiety. He fiddled nervously with his cufflinks.

'What's wrong?' I kept my voice low, aware that a woman nearby was watching us with interest. Lowering his eyes his voice took on an urgent whisper.

'I wanted to get you on your own to ask you something whilst your mother isn't about.'
 

I felt my heart skip a beat. I had already managed to attract one disaster after another on this trip. Surely my mother's boyfriend wasn’t about to make a pass at me? Granted, he was attractive for an older man and his body would be strong competition against even the fittest of younger men. But I wasn’t interested.
 

Yet if he'd heard of my incident with Mark or my all night disappearanc
e with H, maybe he assumed I was the type of woman that would be interested in a little fun on the side?

Butterflies of panic fluttered inside my stomach.
  I needed to stop him before he made a huge mistake. My mother had never been this happy; if I was to ruin it for her I would never forgive myself.

'Sampson' I began calmly 'please don’t take this the wrong way because I think you're a lovely guy.' I held his eyes and continued ‘if I was maybe ten years older and you were single I could understand the attraction. But as it is, you're my mother’s boyfriend.' I said the words clearly and slowly, letting them hang ominously between us.
 

Sampson looked at me for a few seconds, wide eyed and unnaturally still, before bursting into laughter.
 

'Lizzie
, you fool - I'm not interested in you! Lovely as you are, you could be my daughter’ he shook his head in disbelief, laughing loudly and attracting the attention of those nearby.

Heat spread like wildfire from my neck to my face. Flushed with embarrassment and mortified at my admission, I forced a playful chuckle and dismissively waved my hand at him, desperate not to look the fool that I felt inside. Reaching for my hand, Sampson's worried expression returned.
 

'What I did want to ask you is whether you'd accept me as your step-father?’

I tried to register his question as silence descended between us. Shock rendered me speechless. 

'You want permission to marry my mother?' Sampson was asking me for my mother's hand in marriage? Jumping up excitedly, I threw my arms around his shoulders and kissed him on the cheek.
 

 
'Oh Sampson! Of course you have my permission.' 

My mother had finally met someone that wanted to marry her. Not only that, but he was a normal, loveable person. There was hope for me yet. If my mother had managed to steal Samspon's heart, then Edward was every bit as accessible for me. Sampson hugged me warmly.

'Shh, let's not make a scene; we don’t want your mother suspecting anything' he winked, grinning excitedly. 

He pulled a small box from his pocket and secretively showed me the ring. The huge princess cut diamond threw off a rainbow of colours, as it reflected the light overhead. My mother would be ecstatic. She'd always dreamed of remarrying and with a diamond that size there was no chance of her turning down Sampson's proposal. Sampson gazed at the ring sentimentally.
 

'It's our three month anniversary today, so I thought it was a good occasion to ask her.' I nodded my agreement.
 

My mother had not only met someone who was caring, loving and funny but he also wasted no time in wanting her as his wife. I felt a sudden overwhelming emotion of yearning. Would this ever happen for me? Or was I destined for a life of solitude, forced to attend every annual charity ball with my mother and never a partner of my own? Before I had a chance to ask when
Sampson would present the ring, I heard my mother's voice.

There you are, I've been looking for you two.' My mother came walking gracefully towards us. Sampson quickly slipped the ring box back into his pocket.
 

'I’m waiting for Soreena to arrive' I said
, watching as my mother pulled out the chair next to Sampson and sat herself down. She looked distracted and picked nervously at her fingernails.

'Soreena's already here darling, she's looking for you. She said she'd argued with this new man of hers and looked quite upset if you ask me.'
 

I bristled. How had H already managed to upset Soreena despite me warning him she was in a delicate state? Biting down on my lip, I t
ried not to let my unease get the better of me. If H showed his face tonight, I would take great pleasure in letting everybody present know his real name and occupation.

'There's Soreena' my mother said
, pointing towards the champagne fountain. 

Soreena looked forlorn as I watched her refill her glass and drink the contents in one gulp. I recognised the intent. She was on a self destruct mission. This was not the place to do it. I walked swiftly across the lawn to where she was standing alone.

'Hi, I’ve been waiting for you' I said kissing her on both cheeks and standing back to admire her pretty lemon chiffon dress. She looked at me blankly.

'You were right Lizzie. Men are bastards.' Her lip quivered and I spotted the onset of tears.

'Let's go sit over here and talk about it' I said, delicately steering her towards a secluded trellis area. 

My anti-men phases always came back to bite me. It wasn’t the first time someone had assured me I was right about men; except last time the word had been 'arseholes'. Clearly I was preaching too much of my feminist ways to my friends. Of course I didn’t think men were arseholes or bastards.
  I thought of my most recent dealings with Mark and David. Well not always.....

'What's happened with H?' I said as soon as we were seated. Soreena avoided my eyes.
 

'He's had to go' she said quietly, drumming her fingers nervously against the chair. I was confused.

'Go where?' I asked taking a sip of champagne. 

I needed to slow down on my drinking; already I was on my second glass. It was good fizz though, not the cheap stuff I usually bought back in the
UK. That always left a bitter taste and gave me hiccups. This champagne was like silk.

Soreena looked up, tears now falling freely and struggling to hold back sobbing noises.

'He's moving back to London to be with his wife!' she took a deep breath to steady herself.

His wife? I gritted my teeth. More like he needed to go on the run from Mr Flavio's men and his huge debt. I tried not to let my doubt show.

'When did he tell you he had a wife?' I asked suspiciously. Soreena's eye make-up was threatening to run down her cheeks. I rummaged in my bag for an old tissue.