TouchStone for giving (The Story of Us Trilogy) (50 page)

“You didn’t. You kept the memory of me alive.” I place a trembling hand against his face. “You

didn’t forget me.”

“How could I? I made you a promise and I kept that promise today.”

Overcome with emotion I turn away, willing the tightness in my throat to subside. When able, I find

the right words to set his mind at rest once and for all. “Yes, you did.”

With the softest of kisses he disperses my tears. When his lips find mine, they are coated in salt

water. In this infinite moment, an ocean of regret and unspoken words are vaporised and forgotten.

What was once lost has been found. We have come home.

Ayden looks around me, forcing me to turn to see what or who has caught his eye. Just as I feared,

his escorts are becoming impatient. One is tapping his watch, the other is pacing by the door.

My hands rest in Ayden’s like a man-made bouquet, the perfect accompaniment to our marriage;

not as sweet to look at but so indicative of our love. Regardless of the gifts and the getaways, the food

and the designer fashion accessories, it’s always been about us. When our eyes meet, somewhere out

there in the universe the constellation that formed, dictating out fate, materialises and twinkles in the

heavens with the light of a million diamonds. It has brought us to this point, forsaking all others. This

I know. There will be no more tears.

“I love you Ayden.”

“And I love you so much more Mrs. Stone.” A chaste kiss seals the declaration. “I have to go.” I

nod resignedly. “Tell me you’ll be alright Beth. I need to hear you say the words.” A tight lipped smile

tells me he is becoming anxious; not out of concern for his predicament, but for mine.

The time has come for me to don my mask. To camouflage my sadness with a painted smile; to

present a brave face. “I’ll be alright. I’ll be waiting for you when they release you.”

“That’s my girl.” He pulls me to him and so tight is his embrace, I must hold my breath. I close my

eyes and feel the warmth of his body blending with mine; his strength transfusing through lace and

skin to my core. When he releases me it’s with a stark realisation. I’m his lifeline. By definition I

should be something to hold onto; I should offer stability and have the power within me to lift him up,

to raise his spirits. I can do that.

I take a step back, releasing his hands, straightening my dress, preparing myself for my

performance. “Now. Let me look at you. I don’t want any husband of mine walking out looking as if

he’s just got out of bed.”

His mouth forms into a flat line as I dust off his shoulders and straighten his tie. “There. Much

better.” I pick up my train and turn to my right. “Let’s go.”

Gripping my left hand, he drags me back. “I know what you’re doing. And I love you for it but …

hand on heart, you have nothing to worry about.” He pulls me to him. “I’ve something to give you and

I want you to keep it in a safe place. You’ll see what’s on it when you’re ready.” Into my concealed

hand he slips a miniature memory stick, no bigger than a wine gum. “Keep it safe.”

“What’s on it?” I whisper conspiratorially.

“Don’t ask me now Beth. Wait and see.”

Nodding, I pat the dampness from my cheeks and thank God for waterproof mascara. “Alright

Ayden.” With that I take an enormous gulp of air and stride back towards our anxious wedding party.

Jake has explained what’s happening and I swear, if they don’t wipe those ‘poor Beth’ looks off their

faces, I’ll fold.

The two agents separate. There they stand; either side of the arched entrance to the chapel like

Spartans, suitably robed in battle dress and prepared to stop at nothing to get Mr. Stone on the next

plane out of Las Vegas.

I leave Ayden to say goodbye to Sylvia and Patrick, refusing to look at her woeful expression.

Charlie comes to my aid and I just know she’ll have something to say about this. I’m not wrong.

“What’s going on Beth? Are you alright? Did you know about this …?”

“Stop! Charlie, please … Not now.” She pulls me to her and slams me against her chest. “I’m so

sorry Beth.”

“I’m fine. This will all be sorted out soon enough …” When she releases me I am moved by her

compassion. “Don’t worry.” I kiss her cheek and turn to Ayden, who is breaking free of Sylvia for the

final time.

Before leaving he gives Jake the nod. Obviously Jake knew about this all along but was sworn to

secrecy. Their clandestine meeting in the dead of night must have resulted from the worrying phone

call I overheard. They’re shaking hands and Ayden is talking to him quietly.

I catch the tail end of their conversation.

“I’m sorry …”

“Just do what I’ve told you Jay.”

I don’t need to hear any more, which is just as well as I’m swept up by Sylvia, who insists on

squeezing me until my eye-balls are about to pop. Patrick signs kind-hearted words of consolation and

I’m reminded of my good fortune at having been introduced to such a loving family. Ayden’s hand in

mine ends that reflection.

Presenting a united front, we stroll back through the arches to the door. I release his hand and

straighten a tie that doesn’t need straightening, keeping my eyes out of range.

“Look at me Beth.”

I raise my chin, drinking in his handsome face like expensive champagne, savouring this delicious

manifestation of marital perfection.

“Don’t take chances when you get back. Don’t go anywhere without Lester. I want my girls to be

safe.”

I wrinkle my nose. “Girls?”

He grins, boyishly. “My money’s on a girl.”

Amid all this mayhem, I’m smiling. “And now he decides to place a bet? But, I suppose that’s what

people do in Vegas, right? Gamble, go see a show and get married?”

He’s tipping his head in agreement. “Two outta three ain’t bad.”

“You done good Mr. Stone. But, for the time being, all bets are off.” Thankfully our departing

words are playful. I don’t think I would be able to act my way out of a sentimental scene.

There’s nothing like a concluding kiss to pull at the heart strings. He’s rubbing noses and running

his thumb along my bottom lip, the way he always does when our conversation is at an end. “Bye. Be

bold baby.”

I nod, inwardly promising that and so much more. “I will.” With an outstretched arm I release his

hand and watch him leave. Outside there are reporters and photographers with raised voices, making a

meal out of his association with the British Secret Service.

Bowing me head, I spot the tip of a faded pink ribbon in the top of my bodice. Without thinking, I

pick up my train and make for the door. Outside, Ayden is about to step into a black car, having had

little to say to the waiting paparazzi.

“Ayden!” I call out, watching him turn and stop as I run the gauntlet of startled reporters, hearing

the recurring click of cameras. By the time I reach him, he’s stepped from the car and is catching me

in both hands.

“Slow down. I’m here.” He lifts me two feet off the ground and I throw my arms around his neck. “I

forgot to give you this.” From my hand I expose the pink ribbon. “You can’t leave without it. It’s

yours. I gave it to
you
to keep, remember?”

With nimble fingers he lifts it from my hand. “Thank you. I hope you know, I loved you then and I

have loved you every day since.” For safe keeping, he slips it into his inside pocket whilst clenching

his teeth, turning his chiselled jaw from left to right, finding it hard to conceal his emotion. He clears

his throat. “Now go, or I’ll lose it right here in front of the whole fucking world.”

Sensing his despair I free him, stepping backwards, trampling a silken train into concrete. First one

step, then two, then three. I take a long, lingering look.

“Are you assessing me Mrs Stone?” he asks, coyly.

Before I can answer he’s in the car and it’s pulling away. I reply with a smile. “No. Enjoying, Mr.

Stone. Always enjoying …”

Having feasted on a Chinese meal for two, Dan is in the mood for some light entertainment. He

switches on his outdated computer and waits impatiently for it to boot up. Once it’s flickered into life,

he reaches around the back of it and slides in a memory stick. He has no idea what’s on it. It’s not his.

It belongs to Elizabeth Parker.

He’d lifted his jeans from the floor this morning and out it fell. What a bonus; a Saturday night

treat that has him fidgeting in his chair at the prospect of discovering something new about his girl.

He dismisses the lesson plans and skims over the essays until he finds what he’s looking for:

photographs.

“What the fuck!” He’s hit the jackpot. In front of him hundreds of photographs are emerging. He’s

rubbing his hands together and getting comfortable, it’s going to be one hell of a slideshow!

Not surprisingly, he lingers on the shots of her and flicks through those with Stone. The last thing

he wants is to see him with his arms around his girl. Making the most of the event, he pulls back the

tab on a can of lager and sips it from one hand while the other operates the space bar. It’s a real

occasion. Any thought he may have had about forgetting her are forgotten. No more so, than when he

flicks onto a single shot of her sleeping. She is virtually naked from her neck to her waist, lying on her

stomach, her pale body blending into the pale sheets as if she is carved out of marble.

Dan is transfixed. He puts down his can and strokes her flesh with his left hand while his other

wrestles with the zip on his jeans. As he begins to fist his cock, he traces the outline of her back,

circles over her messy hair, draped over a pillow. He follows the outline of her petite features before

stopping at that point where her breasts meet the mattress.

He cannot supress a moan. His hand jerks to the rhythm of a heartbeat that flutters, causing his legs

to quiver and tense. Her pale fragility has him hard and overheated, racing towards ejaculation. Unable

to help himself, he squirts out warm, milky liquid into his boxers calling out. “Oh yeah, that’s my girl

…” With nothing close to hand, he reaches for the tea towel off the table, grinning roguishly. “You’re

such a tease. Now look what you made me do.”

19

The
return journey to the hotel is a silent affair and for that I’m thankful. Jake is sitting beside me

fidgeting, mentally counting every yard back to The Cosmopolitan. He’s looking out of the window

left, I’m looking right. I’m not sure why he’s finding this so gruelling. Usually he exudes confidence.

Right now he’s the proverbial schoolboy on his way home from a visit to the Headmaster’s office.

He’s opening doors and we’re exchanging horizontal movement for a vertical climb up to the 21st

floor. It’s a number counting exercise; a white light flashes through floors until we reach ours. Jake

steps out and slides in the door card, stretching out a gentlemanly arm for me to enter my lonesome

suite.

On the breakfast bar is an enormous bouquet of flowers, pale in colour, nothing brash, simple and

exquisite. Beside it is a bottle of champagne.

“That’s a nice gesture,” I remark, taking a small card out of an envelope, assuming they are a gift

from the hotel.

The card is a hand written note from Ayden. On it is a single word and two letters:
‘Sorry. AS’
On

the left hand corner is a solitary kiss. Instinctively I hold the card to my lips and close my eyes,

willing him to appear. When I place it back onto the counter, I see my lips swallowing up his word,

taking it to heart.

I lift the magnum of champagne in both hands. “Moet Chandon 1976. A good year.” I turn to Jake.

“Will you do the honours?”

Reluctantly, he takes the bottle. “Are you sure?”

“No, but open it anyway. I need a glass of something potent to wash down this lump in my throat.

I’m going to change.”

From down the corridor I hear the sound of a cork popping and voices. It’s Charlie. She’s ten

strides away from my bedroom door. There’s the knock.

“Come in.” I’m removing the veil from my hair, placing clips on the dressing table and lining them

up in a row, like slender soldiers on parade.

“Hi Beth.” She throws her bouquet onto the bed and approaches me. “Here, let me do that for you.”

She looks stunning reflected in the mirror, her red hair aflame and her eyes glossy with leftover

tears. “Thanks Char.”

“It’s the least I can do … what a fucking disaster!”

“It wasn’t a total disaster. The ceremony was beautiful. The day … up to the point when it stopped

being so, was wonderful.”

She tips her head. “Who’s this person sitting in front of me? And where’s Beth?”

I’m tipping down my head and sniggering. “I’m right here.”

“Why aren’t you weeping and throwing things, after what he’s put you through? That’s what I’d be

doing.”

“Because I know everything will be alright. This is a small bump in the road. We’ll get over…”

“A small bump! It’s more like a bloody mountain! What if he’s arrested? What if he’s put away for