Page 88 of My Lord
He reached into his jacket, pulled out a business card and handed it to me. There was nothing to suggest where, or for whom, he worked. It was just his name and a mobile number. I showed it to Mackenzie.
I turned back to Duncan. “Before you go, another thing. Why did you move into my mother’s complex? And how the fuck could you ever take a lady such as my mother to dinner and forget your wallet?”
He screwed his nose and winced. “Yeah, that was, seriously, rather unfortunate and embarrassing, for sure. I can’t tell you all the details but moving into that complex was just a stopgap. The government own lots of properties in the strangest of places. I fully intend to reimburse your mother.”
Duncan, or Don, stood. He reached out and I did take his hand to shake it. I needed to leave the bitterness at the door from now on. Gabriella wasn’t going to get her day in court, and I was pleased, but knew she wouldn’t be.
When they’d left Mackenzie poured us both a coffee. “A right little double O seven, isn’t he?”
“More like a fucking three and a half,” Mary piped up, peering over her glasses at us.
For the first time in a few days, I laughed. Mackenzie laughed, and Mary just called us eejits.
“What is an eejit?” Mackenzie asked.
“Honestly, you don’t want to know,” I answered to save her calling him an eejit for not knowing what an eejit was.
She packed up her oversized handbag, the one she told us she kept a brick in, just in case she needed to swing it at someone. She also picked up a couple of boxes of chocolates. She placed them on the boardroom table before she left.
“Give those to the ladies, won’t you?” she said.
“Thanks, Mary, that’s a lovely thing to do. I’m sure they’ll be thrilled,” I replied. She smiled at me and, I was sure, that was the first time she ever had.
“Wonders will never cease,” Mackenzie said, Mary raised her two fingers to him just as the lift doors closed taking her downstairs.
“I might need to sack her,” he said.
“Good luck with that!”
Mackenzie laughed. “Have you heard from Veronica today?” he asked.
“I spoke to her earlier. She and Gabriella have developed a friendship,” I replied. I guessed that was because they’d experienced the trauma together.
“She’s seemedtoojolly when I spoke to her. I know about this stiff upper lip British thing but, I’m worried,” Mackenzie said.
“I guess it’s her way of coping. She’s spent yearspunishingmen,” I said, with a chuckle. “Kept her in good stead for Stanton, so we should be thankful.”
“I’ve seen what she does. Not my cup ofcoffeeat all,” he said, substituting the correct word, tea, for his choice of poison.
In her late teens, many years ago, Veronica had travelled the world. She had been raped in Thailand. She’d fallen pregnant from that experience and vowed to keep the baby. I remember her saying that it wasn’t the child’s fault. The police weren’t interested, she was another backpacker drunk and high at a Full Moon party andwhat did she expect?She’d continued her travels, ending up in Micronesia. She’d call me and send me photographs of the most amazing places. Her bump was growing, and I remember asking her to come home, give birth in the UK where it was safer. She’d refused. Something she’d regret for the rest of her life, she said.
When Veronica went into labour she’d taken herself to the hospital. She called me on her way, and I wished her well. She seemed so happy, in pain, but so very excited. I didn’t get to hear from her for a few days and when I did, it broke my heart. Something had gone terribly wrong and the baby had died. Veronica was wretched, yet she still refused to come home. She told me that she placed most of her baby’s ashes in the most beautiful place on the planet. It was somewhere she vowed never to return. She wore a tiny glass vial around her neck, and she carried a small amount of ashes wherever she went.
I was the only other person who knew that, and I didn’t tell Mackenzie, of course. I would never betray her confidence. What drove Veronica, what I was close to when I said she was punishing men, was the fact that she was unable to ever have another child. When she was raped she’d also contracted herpes. As the baby developed, and because she hadn’t received the usual medical care, it wasn’t detected. She vowed never to forgive herself for that and her punishment was to never have arealrelationship. She chose to have a hysterectomy, privately of course, because she never wanted to run that risk again.
When she had said to Mackenzie that ‘she’d had worse’ she’d really meant it.
Chapter Eighteen
A week later Gabriella returned to work. She would have returned earlier, I was sure, it was only that her make-up hadn’t covered her bruises until then and she was conscious of them.
“I don’t want to be asked questions, or stared at, Alex,” she’d said as she’d attempted to blend foundation over her skin.
“You need to do whatever you are comfortable with. What time are you seeing Alison?” I asked. Alison was the trauma therapist that had been recommended by my old friend and surprisingly, Gabriella was very keen.
“This afternoon at three. You’ll collect me after?” she said.
I’d been standing behind her while she did her eyes, as she’d call it. I kissed her neck not wanting a mouthful of foundation. “I certainly will. We also have dinner with my mother. Are you up for that?”
