The Tides Of Memory - The Tides Of Memory Part 17
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The Tides Of Memory Part 17

"And who better?" Teddy chuckled, beaming with pride.

"Who indeed? So as well as a welcome-home party, tonight we would like to say a belated congratulations to the lovely Alexia. You may be a rabid Republican-"

"Conservative," Alexia corrected.

Lucy's father had been a politician and her family were all staunch Democrats.

"-but we love you and we could not be more proud. To Alexia!"

"To Alexia!"

Fifteen glasses were raised, the antique crystal clinking and dazzling in the candlelight. During the melee Michael stole a glance at his sister. Roxie's glass was also raised, but her once-soft face was set like flint. Michael thought sadly, You could strike a match off her rage. There's murder in those eyes.

"Sorry I'm late."

Everyone looked up. A tall, dark girl had walked into the room during the toast, dropping her backpack with a thud on the wooden floor. She wore a simple pair of faded Levi's and a white T-shirt, the neck scooped low enough to show the tan lines from her bikini. Her long mane of chestnut hair was tied back in a ponytail and her makeup-free face glowed with health and youth, despite her obvious tiredness. She was, quite simply, stunning.

"Summer, darling!" Arnie Meyer stood up to hug his daughter.

"At last." Lucy clapped her hands "Come and sit down, sweetheart, over here. You're next to Michael."

Summer blushed and shot her mother a look. Talk about mortifying! Lucy had all but patted the chair!

"Aren't you going to say hello?"

"Hi." Summer nodded awkwardly at Michael. "It's been awhile."

"Yes."

He wanted to say something suave, but he was too busy picking his jaw up from the table. Bloody hell. If Arnie hadn't said her name out loud, I wouldn't even have recognized her.

"Are you on the island for long?" Summer asked Michael politely.

"Erm . . . I, erm . . ."

"Unfortunately not." Alexia answered for him, telling the table at large: "Michael's just founded a new business back in England. We feel lucky he was able to make it out at all, don't we, Teddy?"

"Hmm." Teddy grunted disapprovingly.

"He has to fly back in a couple of days."

"Well, I . . . not necessarily," Michael stammered. His eyes were fixed on Summer's cheekbones and translucent, bronzed skin. And her lips, soft and the palest of pinks, parting invitingly as she took a sip of chilled white wine. Had she always had those lips? Why had he never noticed them before? "I might be able to stay a bit longer. Tommy can hold the fort for a while. You know. If necessary."

"Really?" Alexia brightened. Having Michael here made everything so much easier at home. "That's wonderful. Are you sure you can spare the time?"

"Of course, Mum. Anything for you."

Roxie De Vere wondered how her brother managed to keep a straight face.

Later, in the kitchen, Alexia helped Lucy prepare coffee.

"Dinner was a triumph, Luce. Thank you so much."

"It was all Lydia's doing. Anyway, dinner schminner," said Lucy, setting rose-printed coffee cups carefully onto bone-china saucers. "Talk to me. What's it like? I mean what's it really like?"

"The job? It's exciting." Alexia smiled but there was a wariness in her eyes. She was holding something back.

"But?"

"No buts. It's a great honor to have been appointed. And a huge challenge, of course."

"Honey," said Lucy kindly, "you're not on Fox News now. You don't need to give me the party line. Heck, I can't even vote in Merry Olde England, so you may as well tell me the truth."

Alexia smiled. "That's true, I suppose. Well, the job's terrific. But it's been stressful. I've had one or two unpleasant incidents."

"Which in English means . . . ?"

"Threats. There was a phone call, a few weeks before I got out here." Alexia told her about the sinister, distorted voice and the fanatical, fire-and-brimstone cursing. "Something about shedding my blood in the dust. I don't know."

"My God," Lucy gasped. "How terrifying."

"I wouldn't go that far. But it bothered me that this wacko had my home number."

"I'll bet it did," Lucy said quietly. "Does Teddy know?"

"He knows about that phone call."

Lucy knew her friend well enough to read between the lines.

"But there's more. Something that you haven't told him."

The understatement made Alexia smile. "There's so much I haven't told him, Luce! Believe me, you have no idea. There are things that, if he knew, he'd leave me in an instant."

"Teddy? Leave you? Never!"

"He would."

Alexia sank down into the rocking chair in the corner. Here, in this familiar kitchen with her closest friend, so far from London and Westminster and everything that had happened, she felt an overwhelming urge to unburden herself. To have someone, one other person on this earth, know the whole truth about her past. Who she was-who she had been-and what she'd done. To have someone forgive her.

Could Lucy Meyer be that person?

Putting down the coffee cups, Lucy moved to her friend's side.

"Alexia, you're shaking, honey. What on earth's the matter? Whatever it is, you can tell me. It can't be that bad."

Can't it?

"Someone tried to contact me a few weeks ago. Someone from my past."

"What sort of someone? A boyfriend, you mean?"

"Of sorts, I guess." Alexia put her head in her hands. "I want to tell you. I do. But I don't know where to start. There are things you don't know about me. Things nobody knows. Terrible things."

Lucy Meyer took this in. She understood instinctively that she shouldn't push, that she should let Alexia share her secrets in her own time.

"But this man from your past . . . he knew?"

"Yes. He came to see me. He'd been in prison and he has a history of mental problems."

"My God, Alexia. You have to tell Teddy. This man sounds downright dangerous."

"Yes, well, I dealt with it."

"How?"

"I had him deported."

"Good."

"Was it? You see, now I don't know if it was the right thing. I owe this man, you see. He did something for me once, something kind and noble, at great cost to himself. But when he needed me, I turned him away." To Alexia's own astonishment, she found herself starting to cry. "I just felt under so much pressure! The telephone threats, Billy turning up like that out of the blue . . ."

"His name's Billy? The man from your past."

Alexia nodded. "And there've been other things too. The whole cabinet hates me. I know I'm being briefed on an almost daily basis. Then there was that awful business with our dog being poisoned. Teddy's dog, really."

Lucy looked suitably horrified.

"Sometimes it feels as if it's all connected, all the hatred. But I don't know what the connection is. That's the awful thing. I don't know, and the not knowing is driving me mad. This ought to be the happiest time of my life, but instead I feel like I'm going crazy."

"Well," Lucy said reasonably, "it sounds as if this Billy guy may be at the root of it. Now that you've had him deported, things will start to get better, I'm sure."

"I hope so." Alexia sniffed. "But what if it's nothing to do with him? Anyone could be behind these threats. It could be one of the prisoners whose sentences I increased, or one of their family members. So many people hate me, Lucy. Even my own daughter hates me. Let's face it, if anyone wants my blood shed in the dust, it's Roxanne."

"That's not true," Lucy said loyally, although she suspected it was. She couldn't help but notice Roxie's brooding at supper, the way the girl had literally recoiled at the sound of Alexia's voice, as if bitten by a snake. Things had clearly got worse on that front since Lucy had last seen the De Veres. But Alexia could be terribly caustic toward her daughter too, a fact she seemed completely blind to.

Arnie Meyer poked his head into the kitchen and was amazed to find his wife on her knees, comforting a sobbing Alexia De Vere. Arnie had never seen Alexia cry in his life. Not even when Roxie was in the hospital, fighting for her life.

"What on earth's the matter?"

"It's nothing," said Alexia.

"Can I help?"

"Yes," said Lucy practically. "You can take the coffee things out to the table. We need a minute here."

"Should I get Teddy?"

"No." Alexia shook her head vehemently. "Poor Teddy's stressed enough as it is. Let him relax. Honestly, Arnie, I'm fine. I just got a little emotional."

Pulling a perfectly pressed white linen handkerchief out of a drawer, Lucy Meyer passed it to her friend.

"We can't talk now. There are too many people here."

"I know. I'm sorry. I ruined your dinner."

"Nonsense. It was your dinner anyway."

" 'It's my party and I'll cry if I want to'?"

"Exactly!" Both women laughed. "I was going to say we should take a walk together tomorrow. I know a great secluded beach on the north of the island. If we leave early enough, we'll have the place to ourselves."

"Sounds heavenly. But I can't tomorrow. Teddy's flying back to London for a big business meeting on Tuesday and I promised him we'd spend tomorrow together. We're sailing."

"Next week, then. After he's gone. I'm not going anywhere."

Alexia squeezed Lucy's hand. She felt profoundly grateful for her friendship. "I'd like that."

"Then you can tell me everything."

If only I could.

"Now, come on," Lucy said briskly. "We can't keep moping around in here. Let's go and see if that divinely gorgeous son of yours has finally fallen for my daughter. I've got my wedding outfit all planned, you know. Had it in my closet for years."

Alexia laughed aloud.

Thank God for Lucy.

Chapter Eighteen.

The morning after Lucy's dinner party, Michael De Vere asked Summer Meyer out on a date.

"I booked us the best table at Marco's. Saturday night, eight o'clock."

"That's sweet of you," said Summer. "But I just got out of a relationship. I'm not ready to start dating again."

"How about eating?" said Michael. "Are you eating yet? Because food's important, you know. It's right up there with water. And breathing air. You do breathe air?"

Summer laughed. "Yes, Michael. I do breathe air."

"Thank God. So anyway, back to food. Marco's food is the best on the island. That's all I'm saying."