Heller's Revenge (44 page)

It may have even worked if it
hadn’t been for those photographs I’d taken and the testimony of
two other reliable witnesses, who backed up my version of events. I
had been expecting to be grilled and tortured on the stand by the
defence, but it was a fairly half-hearted attempt at
cross-examination. I’d steeled myself for some character
assassination, secretly terrified that they would find out and
expose what Meili and I had been up to, or even that I had been
staying with him, but they didn’t. I got off very lightly I
thought, and then my time on the stand was over.

That evening as we were driving
home, Daniel and I told Heller about the day’s events and I asked
Heller about the soft cross-examination, still puzzling over it in
my mind.

“My sweet, by all accounts you
were a very sympathetic, sincere and believable witness. The jury
warmed to you. It would have been foolish for the defence to try to
besmirch you through innuendo, although I have no doubt that they
had prepared that argument. You were just not the right person to
do it to.”

I wasn’t convinced about that,
but let it go. I made Daniel attend the rest of the trial for me,
grilling him every evening. We shared a bottle of merlot while he
told me about Heller’s testimony. He’d been calm and cool and gave
his evidence about taking on Meili as a client in a clipped,
professional tone. Every woman, and possibly one man, on the jury
was completely in love with him by the end of his testimony, Daniel
had concluded by glancing at their faces. Even the judge fluttered
her eyes at him once or twice. He’d given her a brilliant smile as
he finished and she’d audibly gasped in admiration. Or so said
Daniel, and when I questioned him about it, Heller didn’t deny
it.

Daniel sat through the defence
argument, but it was thin and unconvincing up against the
photographic and scientific evidence of the prosecution. And in the
end, all that evidence was too overwhelming for the jury to give
any verdict other than guilty. The murderer ended up being
sentenced to life in prison for his horrible crime. But we’d never
know who really hired him, because he refused to spill the
beans.

Heller and I waited for Daniel
to emerge from the public gallery after the verdict had been given.
On our way to the door of the courthouse, I noticed Brian chatting
to Meili’s family. I went up to them to introduce myself, Heller
following me. They were very pleased to meet the person who had
been with their son at his death, but I struggled to know what to
say to them. I merely said that Meili was a wonderful man and an
inspiration to millions, and that his loss was felt deeply. They
nodded their heads graciously.

Heller said a few words to them
in Norwegian, and they turned to look at me with renewed interest.
They conversed for a while in Norwegian and again, I felt left out
of the conversation, positive that they were talking about me. When
we left, they shook my hand warmly and his mother even kissed me on
both cheeks. I didn’t bother asking Heller what he had said,
because I knew that he’d never tell me.

When we exited the courthouse,
the press was massing, some of the crews international, but they
didn’t care for me. Instead, they were focussed on Meili’s family
and an environmental activist who was speaking on behalf of one of
the foundations that had sponsored Meili’s visit. I was intensely
grateful for that as we slipped past them anonymously.

Safe in Heller’s Mercedes, I
breathed a huge sigh of relief.

“That’s it. I can’t possibly do
any more for Meili. I feel as though I’ve finished that assignment
for good now. And surprisingly, I actually feel relieved. It’s been
a huge burden.”

“I know. It was a lot to ask of
you, Matilda. It’s taken its toll,” Heller said.

“I never want to see another
human die, ever again.”

“I can’t promise that.”

“I know. But at least don’t send
me on anymore emotional assignments.”

“I can’t promise that either,
but I will try.”

Back in the office, I turned on
my computer for the first time in ages to find what seemed like a
million emails. Once I’d deleted all the rubbish, there was one
interesting email left to read.

Dear Tilly

I’m absolutely over the moon to
let you know that Kitty and I are now the very proud parents of a
beautiful baby girl, photos attached. We have called her Katherine
Matilda Cockburn, and I’m sure you’ll realise why we’ve chosen that
particular middle name! If it hadn’t been for you, I never would
have met Kitty and been the happiest man in the world. And I have
Milt over here with me as well now (thanks to you as well!). He’s
such a great friend. My life is now perfect all because of you.

Thank you so much. I know I
wasn’t very grateful at the time for what you did for me, but I
really am now and just can’t think of the right gift to say thank
you for all my happiness. So I’ve attached ten life memberships
of
Synonymy
and
Synful Synonymy
for your family and
friends and something special will be arriving in the mail for you
soon.

Despite our small disagreements,
I hope you might think fondly of me now and then.

Lots and lots and lots and lots
and lots of love, Clarrie xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I opened up the attachments to
see some really heart-warming hospital photos of a beaming Clarrie,
relieved and exhausted Kitty and a cute little red-faced bundle.
Clarrie was wearing a Charlie’s Angels t-shirt, obviously a new-age
man now. Without me realising it, Heller had walked up behind me
and was standing quietly, looking over my shoulder. I finally
noticed him and turned to smile.

“You’re not regretful, are you,
my sweet?”

“About Clarrie?” I asked in wild
disbelief and I think I may have even thrown up in my mouth a
little at the very thought.

“No! The baby, Matilda.”

“Oh.” I thought for a while,
looking at the photo of the newborn. “No, I don’t think so. Not at
the moment anyway. Maybe later when I’m older, but not now.” I
turned to give him a sad smile and shrugged. “You have to play the
cards life deals you, don’t you?”

“That’s the best way to look at
life,” he agreed.

I cocked my head, looking up at
him. “You can play forever in the naughty virtual world now. I have
ten lifetime memberships to
Synonymy
and
Synful
Synonymy
to give away, courtesy of Clarrie.”

He laughed. “Not for me, thanks.
I prefer to play with the real Matilda.” That sexy laugh again as
he swept my hair to one side and leaned down to kiss me on the
neck. A delicious thrill ran through me.

“Heller, not in the office,” I
protested demurely, shrugging him away, although we were currently
alone.

“What on earth are you going to
do with those memberships? Give them to your mother and father?” he
teased, smiling down at me.

“Of course not!” I thought about
it for a moment. “I’ll give one to each of the twins as they play
anyway and one to Dixie. She’s a big fan of the game when she has
the money. Maybe one to Daniel too, if he wants it.” Then I was
stumped. Niq was too young for something that came with an
adult-only section. A thought popped into my head and I gave him a
cheeky glance. “What about Victor? He might appreciate it?”

Heller became serious. “That’s a
lovely gesture, Matilda. He would enjoy it very much. He relies
heavily on the internet for entertainment. And he’s often
overlooked in life.”

And I laughed because I thought
he was talking about himself, not believing in Victor at all. He
tolerated my laughter, and reminded me that still left me with five
memberships.

I thought for a moment. “Why
don’t you use them to make yourself popular with your men? Give
them away as a reward to your best performers or something,” I
suggested. “Man of the year award, perhaps? I’ll leave it up to
you.”

“That’s very generous of you.
It’s your gift.”

“I don’t want them. Do you
really think I want to know whether Clarrie has made another Little
Tilly or not? I’m better off being ignorant. And anyway I have
enough trouble balancing all my real relationships, let alone
investing any time in developing virtual ones.”

A few days later I received an
envelope from Clarrie and Kitty. This must be the ‘something
special’ he promised me, so I opened it excitedly and read the
letter, then looked at what was attached to it. Involuntarily, I
screamed with excitement. Daniel and Niq looked up at me
questioningly. I flew straight into Heller’s office and showed him
what they had sent me. His eyebrows rose in surprise.

“Two first class tickets to LA!
And look, accommodation and car hire and tour vouchers, all
prepaid! And in the letter from Kitty, she says they want me to be
little Katherine’s godmother and come over for the christening. And
she’s invited me to stay with them at their mansion while I’m over
there.” I was almost jumping up and down with excitement. “You’ll
give me a couple of weeks off work to go, won’t you? Please?” I
begged.

“I don’t want you to go,
Matilda,” he said, unsmiling. I could tell he hated the idea of me
being away from him, even for two weeks.

My good humour evaporated
immediately. “Well, I’m going to go. You can’t stop me. It’s an
honour to be asked to be a godmother. Nobody’s ever asked me before
and I’m not saying no.” And I turned to flounce away in a temper,
when he spoke again.

“Wait!” I turned around again.
“Do I really have a choice?” he complained, unhappy expression on
his beautiful face.

“No.”

“You’ll just go anyway, whether
I want you to or not? Whether I even give you time off work or
not?”

“Yes.”

“Matilda.” He sighed heavily.
“Who will you take with you?”

“Dixie,” I said without any
hesitation.

“Dixie can’t look after you,” he
protested.

“Heller! I don’t need looking
after. I can look after myself,” I reminded him, aggrieved at his
low opinion of my self-preservation skills. But before he could
respond, I shot out, “I better go ring Dixie.” And I hared off up
to my flat.

It took a bit of organising and
Heller had to pull in a few favours for us to get our visas so
quickly, but we were ready to go in a few weeks. I managed to
squeeze in an evening with Will before we left, receiving the
distinct impression that he was very resentful that I hadn’t chosen
to take him to LA. It was an uncomfortable moment for me because in
all honesty, the thought had never even crossed my mind.

It was a fun holiday and Dixie
and I had a great time together, loving every luxury that we’d been
given. Our visit with Clarrie and Kitty in their opulent mansion
overlooking the ocean was more enjoyable than I’d expected. Clarrie
was even almost bearable under Kitty’s moderating and sensible
influence, and he only stared at my boobs a couple of times every
day. Milt spent a lot of time at their house, very keen to
reacquaint himself with me even though I reminded him that I still
had a boyfriend. Fortunately for me, Dixie found his geeky,
virginal innocence a massive turn-on. She didn’t sleep alone once
during our stay with them, and I’d never before in my life seen a
man who looked so tired, smile so much.

The christening went off without
a hitch, Milt stepping up as Katherine’s godfather. I wasn’t sure
what being a godparent involved, other than vague memories of
severed horse heads left in beds. But that didn’t sound right to me
– I was sure it was something nicer than that. Whatever I was
supposed to do, I made a vow to myself to always be there for
little Katherine Matilda, no matter what her problem might be.

Dixie and I farewelled the happy
little family and were free to enjoy the rest of our holiday,
jam-packing every day with sightseeing. Two weeks isn’t a long time
though, and before too long we found ourselves snoozing in first
class on the way home. I never wanted to fly cattle class ever
again. I’d been spoiled for life now.

Heller met us at the airport,
dropped Dixie at her place, and dragged me up to his flat. I
showered and joined him in bed where we lay together watching the
late news, arms and legs entwined. I had missed him terribly while
I was away and told him so, which made him smile to himself. I knew
he’d missed me too because he hadn’t taken his hands off me the
whole time I’d been home – holding my hand, slipping his arm around
my shoulders or my waist, running his fingers up and down my arm or
through my hair, his eyes fixed on me the entire time.

Awkwardly, there was a story on
the news about how Meili’s grave had become a pilgrimage site for
environmental warriors from around the world.

“He was such a wonderful man,” I
sighed as I watched, leaning against Heller’s chest.

“Matilda,” Heller warned.

“So are you, Heller. But maybe
I’m naturally attracted to Norwegian men?” I teased, to circumvent
any residual anger about Meili raising its ugly head again. It
worked.

“Hmm. Is that so? You’re
tempting me very strongly to tell you something about myself with
that statement, my sweet.”

“I know that you’re Norwegian,”
I said with a breezy confidence I didn’t really feel.

“I’m too afraid now to say that
I’m not,” he laughed softly.

We watched TV quietly for a few
minutes.

“I was cruel to you,” I
confessed. I’d done a lot of thinking while I was away. “I said you
didn’t compare to Meili favourably. He was into big gestures, civil
disobedience, publicity. But you do lots of good things at the
local level quietly, without a media contingent.”

“Do I?” He sounded surprised,
but I knew he was faking. He was probably a better actor than I’d
ever been.

“Yes. For example, what you’ve
done for Daniel and Niq and the twins. And Victor.” I chuckled when
I said that, still not having met that mythical housemate. “And
I’ve heard that you help your men and their families out
financially if they find themselves in difficulties. I hear a lot
of things.”