Secrets from the Past. Barbara Taylor Bradford
few seconds earlier, out of the corner of my eye, I had noticed Geoff rolling my suitcase into one of the bedrooms, and now he reappeared, came to join us in the middle of the room.
‘How about coffee?’ he asked genially, looking from me to Zac. ‘I could use it.’
We both nodded, and I said, ‘With milk and sweetener, please, Geoff.’
‘Coming right up,’ he answered, and walked off into the kitchen.
Taking hold of Zac’s hand, I led him to the big overstuffed sofa, and we sat down. I couldn’t quite make out the expression on his face … I didn’t know if it was one of longing, weariness or pain, and then almost immediately his face crumpled. He started to cry. He brought his hands to his face as he wept.
After a moment he took control of himself again, and wiped the tears away with his fingertips, shook his head, looking regretful.
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to break down, Pidge,’ he muttered, using Jessica’s nickname for me, the only other person allowed to do so.
‘It’s all right, it’s all right.’ Moving closer, I put my arms around him, wanting to console him, but instantly drew back, again almost gagging. One thing was certain: I had to get him out of these filthy clothes and into a shower as soon as possible.
Now my eyes roamed around the room. His cameras were on the table, his flak jacket laid on a chair, his holdall on the floor nearby. He was all set and ready to roll, to hightail it back to another war, wherever the hell it was, I thought dismally. He’d even go back to Afghanistan, the most hellish place on earth. The smell of cordite, blood and sweat, exploding roadside bombs, Marines being killed relentlessly. A foul battleground.
He was addicted to war, the adrenaline rush, as so many of us were. I had been, but had managed to extract myself from the front line before it was too late, as my father had before me, and Harry as well.
If you didn’t get out you were burned to a shred, like Zac was now. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, I thought, and shivered involuntarily.
Geoff brought out mugs of coffee and handed them to Zac and me, returning to get his own. When he came back he brought a plate of cookies, which he put down on the coffee table.
We drank in silence. Finally, I said quietly, ‘As soon as you’re up to it, Zac, I want you to have a bath, or a shower, whichever you prefer.’
He threw me a swift glance, and all of a sudden there was a stubborn set to his mouth. He said, ‘Tomorrow’s fine.’
‘No, it isn’t,’ I answered in the most businesslike tone I could muster. ‘Your clothes stink, and so do you. No clean-up, no Serena. I’ll check into the Bauer … where nobody smells.’
‘That bad, is it?’ he muttered, and glared at me.
‘I’ll say! And now that I’m here, and only at Harry’s behest, remember – you’ll have to live by my rules.’
‘I see.’
‘I hope you do.’ I rose. ‘Shall I run a bath, or will you take a shower?’
He slumped down into the cushions on the sofa, a morose expression settling on his face. He was unresponsive. Leaning his head against the pillows, he closed his eyes, ignoring me.
I decided, in that instant, that the only way to deal with Zac and get him back on his feet and healthy was for me to get tough and stay tough. If I showed any weakness he would endeavour to manipulate me. And he was good at manipulation, as I knew only too well.
Being tough was necessary, but I also had to use the threat of leaving. That would frighten him into submission, persuade him to do what I wanted. I knew he truly needed me at this particular time, otherwise he wouldn’t have buried his pride and asked Harry to ask me to come here.
Geoff looked at Zac, then across at me, and raised a brow.
Making a decision, I said, ‘I’m glad I didn’t unpack, Geoff. Come on, let’s get my bag and go to the Bauer. I’m hungry, so I’ll check in there, and then we can have lunch on the terrace.’
‘A shower,’ Zac announced from the depths of the huge sofa. ‘A shower’s easier right now.’ As he was speaking he pushed himself to his feet. I thought he looked slightly groggy.
I watched him walk across the room, and I realized he was limping. That old shrapnel wound from years ago was more than likely acting up. ‘Do you need help?’ I called after him.
‘No,’ he grunted and went into the bathroom he was using, banging the door behind him.
I turned around, and said to Geoff, ‘That’s a relief. His clothes stink. Why didn’t you warn me?’
Geoff looked at me askance. ‘And frighten you off? No way, kid. Anyway, I can only say that he improved the moment he saw you. I think he’s trying to behave as normally as possible. Obviously he doesn’t want you to leave. Sometimes at night—’ Geoff cut himself off, and sat down again in one of the armchairs.
‘What is it he does at night?’ I asked, taking the chair opposite, staring at him, wondering if Zac was suffering from nightmares or flashbacks. More than likely he was.
‘He has bad dreams, Serena, so be prepared. He shouts and screams and calls your name quite a lot … sometimes he’s yelling for Serena, sometimes he uses the nickname Jessica gave you: Pidge.’ Geoff now gave me a thoughtful look, then frowned. ‘What does that mean, Serena? Pidge is an unusual name.’
I sighed, staring back at Geoff without speaking. I had always been secretive about Jessica’s nickname for me – why, I’d never really understood.
‘Go on, tell me,’ Geoff encouraged, obviously riddled with curiosity.
Suddenly I made my mind up to tell him. He was intrigued, and I was grateful to him for risking his life by going to Helmand Province to get Zac out of that highly dangerous situation.
‘I’ve never told anybody; not even Zac knows,’ I explained. ‘I’m going to tell you, though, but you must keep it a secret.’
‘I will. Go on then, I’m all ears. I really wanna know.’
‘When I was little, Jessica started to call me Smidge. That comes from the word smidgen, which means a small portion, a little bit … I was a little bit to her. She used it affectionately, but I hated that name and objected most vociferously. So at my request she dropped it, started to call me Pidge, which is short for pigeon. She told me she chose it because a pigeon is a small chirping bird, just like me. But keep it quiet, okay?’
‘I will,’ Geoff answered. ‘I’m flattered you told me, although I don’t know why it’s such a big secret. It’s not such a bad nickname.’
I smiled at him warmly. I liked Geoff, and he had been a good friend to me over the years. ‘Little girls like to have secrets, you know … and I’ve maintained the secret over the years.’
He smiled back, winked. ‘I get it, and your secret is safe with moi. But about Zac, he’s been better since you arrived. I think he might have relaxed because he feels safe with you here. I’m beginning to feel more optimistic about his recovery.’
I sat back in the chair, brought my hand to my mouth, reflecting on what he had just said. I knew Geoff was correct in one thing – Zac had relaxed as soon as he’d seen me, and he was talking, if only in short takes. But he wasn’t the same Zac. He was diminished and there was a fragility about him; immense sorrow was reflected in his eyes. He’d seen so much, far too much over the years, and he was drowning in pain. His behaviour was calm on the surface, but I recognized he was extremely stressed inside. Hence the bad dreams Geoff had referred to, and which hadn’t surprised me.
‘What’s worrying you, Serena?’ Geoff asked, breaking into my troubled thoughts.
I wanted to be honest with Geoff, so I told him the