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Authors: Annette Gisby

BOOK: Drakon
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Are you mad, Andrea?
Y
ou don't seriously think that being married to him is going to make you
any safer?
And safe from what?
There is no danger. It's your imagination
. Oh, but there was a danger, she could feel it. She didn't know who or what the danger was but she could feel as surely as she felt the sun on her face. As surely as she knew the sun would set and rise again in the morning.

Who could she trust? Jonathan? How would she know? Would she know in a year's time? In twenty? Could you ever really know another person? It was all a matter of faith. Right now, she only had faith in Jonathan. It was him who had taken her out of that awful hospital.

“Jonathan, why was I in a mental hospital if I was in a coma? What happened?”

“You haven't been in a coma. They kept you sedated. Did you think you would have been able to get out of bed this quickly if you'd been in a coma?” Andrea had to admit that her seemingly quick recovery had worried her. But it didn't worry her as much as the knowledge that someone had deliberately kept her unconscious.

“Do you know why I was sedated?”

He stared at her and she knew that he knew, but that he wasn't going to tell her. Another thing she was going to have to trust him on. That was the whole point. Did she trust him? Could she trust him? She felt the danger was close, but it wasn't sitting in the car next to her. Jonathan wasn't the danger. She felt something else, fear and pain. Coming from Jonathan? Where were all these sensations coming from?

“Look,” he said. “I know this is probably a big shock for you. The marriage will be just that. We don't have to sleep together or anything. But the only way I can protect you is by becoming your husband.”

Andrea looked into his eyes and saw the awful truth there. How could she know something like that?

“How can you protect me,” she demanded. “When you're dying?”

“How on earth...Of course. That's the reason you need protecting. And anyway I'm not dying right away. We all die. I've got leukaemia but I've been in remission for ten years. Other than that I'm healthy. I could get run over by a bus tomorrow and then it wouldn't matter.”

“Why didn't you tell me?”

“Because I didn't want you to worry. But you're right; I should have told you. It's not something you should keep secret from your prospective wife. If you say no, I'll go in and call the whole thing off.”

Andrea hadn't realized they'd reached the car park for the local registry office, a mundane building in brown brick, most of it blackened by the soot of passing years. She had been too intent on Jonathan.

Cancer. They were both dying from the same disease. How could she say no to a dying man? Especially since she was in love with him?

“Yes,” she said. “Yes, I'll marry you.”

“I was hoping you'd say that.”

Chapter Two

 

They walked up the steps to the registry office hand in hand, Jonathan's one concession to onlookers. Jonathan stopped at the door and squeezed tight.

“It has to seem like a real marriage, do you understand me? We're getting married because we're in love, we don't want them to find out we got married for any other reason, okay?” he asked.

Andrea nodded her head. He didn't know that for her it was the truth. She was getting married because she was in love.

And so that was how they ended up getting married in a draughty office with two strangers for witnesses. It wasn't how she'd imagined her wedding to be. She'd always wanted the traditional affair with a white dress and bridesmaids. She wanted to feel like a princess. After the registrar pronounced them husband and wife, she felt as if she'd just been to the dentist. She didn't feel any different. She didn't feel married. Jonathan was smiling when they left.

“How does it fell to be Mrs. Kent?”

“Strange. I don't feel married.”

“Well, we are. This piece of paper proves it,” he tapped the pocket in his jacket.

“Now we'd better hurry or we'll miss the flight.”

“What flight? Where are we going?”

“Where do people normally go when they've just got married?”

“Honeymoon? We're going on our honeymoon?” Andrea couldn't believe it. This was all some crazy dream. She'd just married her best friend and now they were going on honeymoon?

“Lead on, Jonathan I'm right behind you.”

Andrea had never seen so many people in the one place before. The airport was packed. Of course Jonathan would have to arrange it in the middle of the summer holidays when everyone and his dog were off to foreign climes. She must have been invisible, if the amount of people who bumped into her was anything to go by. She clung to Jonathan's arm, not willing to let him out of her sight.

She should have been surprised that Jonathan had bought a whole new wardrobe for her and their two suitcases were now on a trolley waiting to be checked in. As the couple in front of them handed over their passports, Andrea gasped.

“I don't have a passport!” she whispered urgently in his ear. Jonathan turned around and smiled at her.

“It's been taken care of,” he said and waved the two books at her. But she'd never even applied for a passport. How did he do it?

“Next please,” said the stewardess whose smile seemed in danger of cracking. She was dressed in a navy blue suit with red diamonds on it and she looked utterly fed up. Jonathan handed over the tickets and passports.

“Just the two cases is it?” she asked in a bored voice. Andrea wondered how many times a day she had to say the same thing over and over again.

“Would you like a window seat, sir?” she asked.

“Yes please, my wife's never been abroad before.” The stewardess looked up at Andrea and smiled. A real smile this time.

“Congratulations. I hope you enjoy your honeymoon,” she winked at Andrea making her blush.

“Row 8, seats A and B,” said the stewardess. “The best in the house.”

“Thank you,” said Andrea and Jonathan together.

“Would you like something to eat before we board? We've got about an hour,” said Jonathan looking at his watch.

“No thanks, I'm too nervous to eat. It's not every day you get married.” If the truth was told it wasn't that which worried Andrea. It was what people were going to say when they got back. She had never done anything remotely crazy in her life. What would her mother say?

She was nervous about the flight too. Jonathan was right in that. She'd never been on a plane journey before. Jonathan glanced at one of the many monitors above their heads and tugged her along with him.

“Our plane's ready to board.” Andrea broke out in a cold sweat. She couldn't go up in the plane. Think of those heights. And what if it crashed? There was nothing between them and the ground.

“I can't Jonathan, I'm terrified of heights. I can't go,” she burst into tears. Jonathan put his arms around her. “Ssh. It's all right. We don't have to go. I'm not going to force you to get on a plane if you don't want to.”

“But I'm being silly. I know the statistics; I just can't go up there.”

“No you're not. Lots of people are scared of flying. We can go somewhere else.” Andrea rubbed her eyes. What was wrong with her? She was normally such a good traveller. Planes had never worried her before. Just thinking of the money Jonathan probably spent made her want to cry again.

“It's the safest method of transport,” said an elderly lady who appeared beside them. “You're more likely to die in a car crash than in a plane. It's just that if a plane does go down more people die at once. I used to be frightened too, until my son emigrated to Australia. I went over to visit my first grandchild. It was the best thing I ever did.”

“But weren't you scared?” asked Andrea.

“Of course I was, but if you want something enough, you just have to get over the fear. Do you know some people are so afraid of dying that they're scared to live? That's sad, isn't it? I'm ninety. I could die in a plane crash or I could die in my sleep. But I haven't stopped sleeping and I'm not going to stop flying either.” She walked off, her back ramrod straight and hardly a totter. It was hard to believe she was ninety. Andrea looked at Jonathan. She wanted to make him happy. They were both dying. What was there to lose?

“I've made up my mind, I want to live. Let's go on that plane.” It wasn't as bad as she thought it was going to be. The worst part was as they took off. She grabbed the armrest unaware that Jonathan's hand was already there. She clung to it like a drowning man might cling to a lifebelt. The meal was delicious and Andrea was surprised to find how hungry she was. When the duty free trolley came round Jonathan bought her a teddy bear with a little leather flying jacket and aviator goggles. She cuddled it the rest of the way and wished it were Jonathan she was cuddling. As they began their descent, Andrea looked out the window. Everything was so small, so insignificant from up there.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Majorca,” said the captain. Andrea hadn't really thought of Majorca as a honeymoon destination before, but what did it matter as long she was with Jonathan? That was the important bit.

After they had retrieved their luggage they went through passport control and into the foyer. Jonathan was looking for the yellow and blue uniform of their rep. He spotted one waving and walked over.

“Mr. and Mrs. Kent? Ah, yes, here we are. Your taxi's outside. Have a nice time! I wish it was me.” The girl turned to the next couple.

“Why have we got a taxi?” asked Andrea. She heard everyone else being directed to a coach.

“Are we going to a different hotel than everybody else?”

“You could say that,” smiled Jonathan as he carried the suitcases outside. The first thing Andrea noticed was the heat. It was like a wall of humidity. She was glad she still had on the cream dress. Anything darker and she would have boiled. There was a man with a black suit and chauffeur's cap standing beside a white limousine and Andrea wondered if there was a film star somewhere in the airport. He walked over to them and doffed his cap.


Senor y Senora Kent? Bienvenido a Majorca! Me llama Pedro. Como esta?


Muy bien, gracias
,” said Jonathan in perfect Spanish. Pedro held the door open for them and they got in. Andrea still couldn't quite believe it. The limousine wasn't for a film star; it was for them.

“Was it a nice surprise?” asked Jonathan. He absently patted her hand as though she were a child. Andrea wondered if he knew he was doing it.

“It's lovely,” said Andrea. The windows were tinted so they could see out but no one could see in.

“I feel like a movie star!” she laughed.

“But much prettier,” he said and she was rewarded with one of his rare smiles.

“Where are we going?” she asked as the car slowly made its way to the harbour. Yachts bobbed up and down on the water like toys. They turned a corner and there she saw it. The whiteness dazzled her eyes despite the tinted windows.

“A cruise? We're going on a cruise?” she sat up and looked out the window, holding this moment in her memory as long as she could.

“We are,” said Jonathan.

“What if I get seasick?”

“You'll be too excited to get sick. And anyway, how can a member of the Smith clan get seasick? I thought you were born on the ocean?” Andrea didn't want to contradict him, but a lot of the time it was excitement, which made her sick. She just hoped it wouldn't be true in this case. Pedro helped them with the cases to board the ship, even though a porter was ready to do it. Andrea caught the name as they boarded.
The Island Paradise
.

Oh, it was going to be wonderful! And how did Jonathan know that she had always wanted to go on a cruise? She would never have plucked up the courage to go on her own. There was a man in uniform at the top of the gangplank ready to greet them.

“Hello, I'm the maitre d'. Would you like an early or late sitting for dinner? Early is seven pm. Late nine pm”

“Early, if that's all right with you, Andrea?”

“Yes, that sounds fine,” she replied a little awed by the splendour she could see on the ship. Glass and brass gleamed as if it had just been polished ready for their arrival.

“Ah, here's the purser now,” said the maitre d' and hurried to greet the next passengers. The purser took their passports and embarkation form and called to a steward.

“This is Alex; he will be your steward for the whole cruise. Any problems and you speak to him first. He'll look after you. Alex show Mr. and Mrs. Kent to their cabin and let them get settled in. I hope you enjoy your cruise.”

“Thank you,” said Jonathan and Andrea in unison. They followed Alex while a porter followed behind with their luggage. The cabin was small but it was decorated well. There was a small porthole too. Andrea was glad of that. As long as she could get some fresh air, she might not feel sick. Alex left and they started to unpack. Andrea could hardly believe that Jonathan knew her size and everything was to her taste. Did he go through her wardrobe before this shopping spree? Except the shorts. She'd never worn shorts in her life, not even as a child.

“Will everyone be wearing shorts?” she asked.

“Yes, except for dinner. Everyone dresses up. But don't worry. I've bought you plenty of dresses.” Jonathan went to the bathroom and Andrea took the opportunity while he was gone to change into a pair of navy shorts and a white baggy t-shirt. Her legs looked like two thin milk bottles. They'd never seen the sun. It was a good job that Jonathan remembered the sun cream as well. She never tanned. She burned, except for her face, which came out in a mass of freckles at the first hint of sunlight.

Jonathan came out of the bathroom looking rather pale and worn. “I think I'll have a lie down for a while. Why don't you go and explore the ship?”

“I don't want to leave you on your own if you're not feeling well.”

“I'll be fine. I just need a rest, and I'd rest better on my own.”

“Oh,” said Andrea. Was this their first of many disagreements? Her husband of a few hours would rest better if she weren't there. Well, she'd just have to go and do something else, wouldn't she?

“There's a library, I think,” said Jonathan and collapsed on the bed with his shoes on. Andrea left him to it. She wasn't going to stay where she wasn't wanted. The ship had just started to sail and she grabbed one of the handrails along the corridor for support. Hopefully she would get her sea legs eventually. It was such a long time since she'd sailed. It always reminded her of her father.

Sometimes she missed him so much that she didn't want any reminders.

She went up on deck to watch as people waved off their friends and families. Andrea scanned the crowd for something to do. Had she really expected someone to wave them off when they didn't even know where they were? No one even knew they were married.

People were throwing streamers at the ship and Andrea turned away, her eyes wet for no reason that she could fathom.

She strolled along the deck feeling the wind in her hair and the waves beneath her feet. She stood looking over the rail at the Mediterranean, sparkling blue green and gold in the sunlight. There was an open-air cafe next to the swimming pool. Andrea sat down on one of the plastic chairs and ordered an orange juice. The waiter brought her a glass with a long straw and a little parasol in the top. Andrea thanked him and wished Jonathan would tell her what was wrong.

They were married now. Why did he still insist on keeping secrets? If he was ill again she wanted to know. She didn't want him to suffer in silence. Right, Andrea. Like you always tell him everything about you?

“Mind if I join you?” asked a voice. Andrea looked up, shading her eyes from the sun with her hand. A woman stood there. She was dressed all in white. White shorts, white top and a white jumper thrown casually over her shoulders and the arms tied loosely at her chest. Her long blonde hair was held back by a pair of expensive looking sunglasses. For one horrible moment Andrea thought it was Suzanne, Jonathan's most recent ex. She looked so like her.

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