Secrets From the Past (18 page)

When I was silent, he said, ‘Don’t you believe me?’

‘Yes, I do,’ I finally replied. ‘Geoff told me.’

‘Is that why you believe me? Because Geoff Barnes told you?’ Unexpectedly he began to chuckle, shaking his head, then he put his arms around me and held me close. ‘So, can we start all over and do it right this time?’

‘Yes,’ I said, and I felt my love for him flowing through me, and I knew this would never change. I would be steadfast always. ‘I’m still in love with you too, Zac,’ I finally told him. ‘And I will be for the rest of my life.’

He released me, sat back, stared into my face, his own full of relief. ‘I can’t begin to tell you how much I’ve longed to hear you say that.’ He paused, and a reflective look crossed his face. After a moment’s hesitation, he murmured, ‘I’m sorry, Serena, for all the things I said last year. For the hurt and pain I caused you. I want to spend the rest of my life making up for that, and loving you as you deserve to be loved.’

We talked for a little while longer, opening up our hearts to each other. He said things to me I never thought I would hear, and I did the same, and we were both happy about this. Finally we had cleared the air, settled things between us. We were on a new journey together.

Unexpectedly, I felt the need to get out of the room, to go down to the gardens. It was now late afternoon; night would soon be encroaching, and I wanted to catch those moments before the sun finally set. It was beautiful at this time of day on the Côte d’Azur.

I jumped up, gave Zac my hand and said, ‘Come on, lazy bones, let’s go to the terrace and have a lemonade.’ I grinned at him. ‘To celebrate our reconciliation.’

‘Lemonade it is,’ he agreed, giving me his lopsided smile.

We went downstairs together. The house was perfectly still. Nothing stirred. Nobody was there. I knew Cara would still be at the greenhouses, and Jessica was probably resting in her room. As we went into the kitchen my nose twitched, and Zac exclaimed, ‘Wow! That smells good. What’s cooking?’

‘A beef stew,’ I answered, walking over to the refrigerator. I took out the jug of lemonade, filled two glasses, and then we went out to the terrace.

‘Just look at that sky!’ Zac exclaimed. ‘It’s full of golden fire.’

‘I know. It usually is at this time of day. The Magic Hour, that’s what they call it in Movieland. And it was Mom’s favourite time of day.’

‘Yeah, I remember that, I remember how she loved to come and sit here. It is the Magic Hour indeed, wonderful for filming … especially a romantic scene.’

‘My mother liked you a lot, Zac. She always said you reminded her of my father.’

‘Did she really?’ He sounded surprised. ‘That’s quite a compliment. And I hope I am, like Tommy, I mean. Well, I do know one thing. I’m a one-woman man, just as he was. He never had eyes for anyone else but your mother.’

‘I know,’ I said, and, for a reason I didn’t understand, I suddenly shivered. Goose flesh ran up my arms. Somebody just walked over my grave, I thought, conjuring up one of Grandma’s old sayings. I pushed the saying away, not liking the thought of it at all.

A
little while later, we walked down to the studio, stopping off in the kitchen to get the key out of the green-glazed jug on the mantelpiece.

As we went inside the studio, Zac looked around and said, ‘It’s exactly the same, isn’t it? Tommy might have just gone up to the house to see your mother …’ He broke off, staring at me.

I nodded. ‘I thought that when I was here this morning. Perhaps because his presence is really and truly in this room. After all, he occupied it for many years, and somehow he left a lot of himself behind.’

Zac walked over to me, took my face in his hands, and gazed deeply into my eyes. ‘I’m so sorry I made you miss the plane,’ he said quietly. ‘Truly, truly sorry.’

‘It’s all right,’ I said. ‘It happened, and perhaps it was meant to be.’

Zac leaned forward and kissed me on my cheek, and then he put his arms around me and brought me forward, holding me tightly against him. I clung to him. ‘Oh, Pidge,’ he murmured, ‘I do love you so.’

‘So do I, you,’ I answered.

He sighed against my hair. ‘This is where we made love for the first time. Do you remember?’

‘How could I ever forget?’ I looked up into his face, and I knew mine was full of yearning. My desire for him was suddenly rushing to the surface, and I saw at once he felt the same; longing was etched across his face, reflected in his light green eyes.

Moving away from me, Zac walked across to the door and locked it, came hurrying back. Wrapping his arms around me once more, he said softly, ‘I want to make love with you, Serena. Do you? Will you?’

‘I do. I will.’

Holding onto each other, not wanting to separate ourselves, we went over to the big old sofa and sat down together. Zac began to kiss me … my forehead, my eyelids, my face and the side of my neck. His mouth was on mine, tenderly at first, and then he was kissing me passionately. I felt waves of heat flowing through me and I wanted him desperately, just as I knew he wanted me.

Somehow we managed to struggle out of our clothes, hardly moving, and within a couple of seconds we were naked, stretched out together on the sofa, our arms wrapped around each other, needing to be close … as close as possible.

Zac caressed me tenderly at first, as he always had. He was an expert lover, thrilled me with his gentle touching and stroking, which inevitably became more forceful and insistent. Eventually I reached out to him, and we began to make love as we had in the past, without haste, languorously – it was as if he had never been away from me.

We were natural, at ease, comfortable with each other, and I knew nothing had changed between us. Zac was a sensual man who aroused the sensuality in me; knew my body as well as he knew his own, knew how to please me. I longed to have him inside me, possessing me, loving me … and especially in this private place, which was so meaningful. I was glad we were being reunited here, where it had all begun seven years ago. I smiled inwardly. I had been fairly innocent, inexperienced, and Zac had been my very willing teacher, and an expert one at that.

His mouth devoured mine, and I responded with ardour. My hands smoothed down over his shoulders, went up into his thick hair, then onto his neck. He was kissing my breasts; his hands began to roam over my body, exploring, learning every part of me yet again. Unexpectedly, a moment later, he took me to him urgently, and with great swiftness, making me gasp in surprise.

‘I’ve yearned for you, Serena,’ he whispered hoarsely against my neck. ‘Oh God, how I’ve wanted to be with you like this. I’ve missed you so much.’

‘So have I … wanted you … missed you,’ I answered, and it was the truth.

He lifted his head, looking down at me for a moment, as if he was surprised we were here together like this, making love. I touched his face with my hand, my eyes holding his, and he gazed back, and it was almost as if we were looking deeply into each other’s souls.

Kissing me passionately, holding me close, Zac began to move against me, and we were both overwhelmed by desire, discovering our urgent need for each other. And we were filled with ecstasy as we left everything behind and soared into a glittering place together, a place we had visited before.

I
t was Friday 22 April, and the first anniversary of my father’s sudden death. By chance, it also happened to be Good Friday, and a religious holiday around the world.

Harry had arrived yesterday, bringing with him Geoff Barnes. After dinner last night, Harry and I had agreed to meet this morning. Early. To chat about a few things we had not been able to discuss with others present, during dinner and afterwards.

And so I was up early, leaving Zac sound asleep in my bed, and came downstairs to make coffee. Once it was ready I put it on the tray with milk, sweetener and mugs, and carried it down to the studio.

Even though it was already a sunny morning at seven o’clock, the grass was still laden with dew, and my sandals, bare feet and the edges of my jeans were soon soaked as I walked across the lawn.

But I didn’t care about the wet grass. I was happy I was here in this lovely old house where I had grown up, surrounded by those I loved, and who loved me: Harry, my godfather, best friend, and the unique link to my father; my darling sisters, whom I adored; and Zac. My lover. My true love.

There had been a strange moment, on Wednesday afternoon, when, irrationally, I’d wondered what I was doing in the studio, making frantic love with Zac, when I had hated him for a year, had vowed never to see him again, and had blamed him for that missed plane.

But there I’d been, naked and stretched out under him, oblivious to everything but him. At that moment caring only about what we were doing to each other. Nothing, no one mattered. Only him. And me. Together like that. A man and a woman joined in sexual pleasure.

That he turned me on, filled me with a hot, raging desire that rendered me weak with longing when he kissed me, were not good enough reasons. Or were they?
Yes
. Because no other man had ever made me feel that way. But the real reason I’d been with him on the sofa was because I was in love with him. As he was with me. We wanted each other, needed each other, and we were both aware that we were meant to be. It was our destiny, he had said that afternoon. I also understood that I had not stopped loving him at all. I’d simply obscured that love, because I was angry with him. Anger had built a wall between us. I had torn it down.

Now, once inside the studio, I put the tray on the coffee table and glanced at the sofa, smiling to myself, my thoughts still caught up with Wednesday afternoon, here with Zac. Much later that night, in the comfort of my bed, he and I had made love again, more passionately than ever, and then we had talked late into the night.

At one moment, Zac had confessed that he had been disappointed when we hadn’t made love in Venice, which to him was the most romantic place in the world, and full of memories of our early years together. I had explained that it hadn’t been the right time for me then, but that it was now. And this had clearly pleased him, erased that earlier disappointment.

Suddenly Harry arrived, came striding into the studio, a wide smile on his lean face. Immediately, he took me in his arms and hugged me, kissed my cheek. I clung to him for a second, truly happy he was with us for the weekend. We stepped away, and the love we had for each other was reflected on our faces. He and I had depended on each other for years, even when Dad was alive, and we were extremely close. Harry had been married twice, but had never had any children, and he said I was like the daughter he had never had. We had worked together, been in danger together. Like Dad, Harry had protected me in every way he could; he had my back at all times.

He said, ‘We can’t be sad today, Serena. Tommy wouldn’t like that. He’d want us all to celebrate that he’d been here on this planet, because he was the first to say he’d led a charmed life, had lived it to the full, had been truly blessed.’

‘I know he would,’ I answered, and sat down on the sofa, poured coffee into the two mugs, adding cream and sweetener.

Harry joined me, and went on, ‘I know he was far too young to die. Seventy’s considered no age these days. Just let’s be glad he died far away from the bombs, the guns and the violence of war. That he was here, where he had spent so many wonderful years with you and your sisters and your mother … in this beautiful and peaceful place she created.’

‘I thought that myself the other day.’ I picked up the mug, took sips of my coffee, and after a moment I went on, ‘I want to ask you something, Harry … Jessica was wondering if she should invite a friend tonight. Allen Lambert. She wasn’t sure.’ I told him about Allen, at least as much as I knew, explained their relationship, and then finished, ‘He knew Dad, not very well, but he did know him, and Mom, and I told her she should invite him. Particularly since she’s become more interested in him lately. She was still a bit hesitant, uncertain, so I said I’d ask you. What do you think?’

‘Tell her to ask him to come, Serena. I’m sure Cara won’t object, and certainly I don’t. Why would I?’ He gave me a pointed stare. ‘You’re looking odd. Do you think Cara won’t want him to come?’

‘No, I don’t.’ As I said that, I wondered if she would be annoyed. But I added, ‘She won’t care either way.’

‘When does Cara get back from St Tropez?’

‘She told me she’d be home around five. She’s leaving two assistants behind to make sure everything’s in order on Saturday, which is when the wedding reception is taking place. At the villa of the bride’s mother.’ I smiled. ‘The entire place is going to be filled with Cara’s exotic orchids. It’s a big job for her, and she’s worked hard, being such a perfectionist.’

‘That she is.’ Harry drank some coffee, and leaned back, relaxing.

I glanced across at him, thinking how great he looked: trim, healthy and in good shape. Moving on from Cara, I said, ‘Although Geoff was rather quiet last night, I thought he didn’t seem all that upset. How’s he been?’

Harry pursed his lips, shook his head. ‘He vacillates, to be honest, honey. One minute he’s depressed, the next accepting the situation. Then suddenly he takes the blame. Becomes guilt-ridden because he believes he neglected his ex-wife and Chloe. But look, he’ll be fine. And here’s the good news for us.’ Harry smiled. ‘Geoff’s decided to stay with Global, and he’ll be running the London bureau, which makes me happy, as it should you. He’ll do a good job.’

‘That’s great!’ I exclaimed, as relieved as Harry obviously was. Our London office was an important part of the Global Images network, and needed a strong manager, which I knew Geoff would be. He would also become chief photographer, taking on the important assignments in the UK and Europe. I then thought to ask, ‘Is he going back to LA first? To see his ex-wife and Chloe before he takes over?’

‘No, he’s not. He wants to get settled in London, and then he’ll make the trip. But he’ll only stay a few days.’ Harry sipped his coffee, then was silent, looking reflective.