Midnight in Brussels (17 page)

That morning after she ordered she asked her waiter, “By the way, what are guild houses? You know, like the Bakers Guild, where we are.”

“Oh, that is easy. During the Middle Ages and after that, every city had guilds or corporations as we would call them today - for instance the Bakers Guild. The guilds or corporations had influence on the governing body of the city. And because guilds were very wealthy and politically powerful and their four- to six-story houses or headquarters reflected the affluence and influence, they would regularly meet in them to discuss new rules or regulations for their specific trade or commerce. They’d pass that along to the city administration to implement. So the Grand Place was the center of government in those days, with all its guild houses. Now it is a tourist attraction.” He grinned at her.

“Thank you so much, you’ve earned your tip today for sure.” She grinned back at him.

“That makes me very happy, thank you. I’ll turn in your order.” He waited on her almost every time she came in, so he knew what to expect in the way of a tip from her. Most Europeans didn’t tip, but Americans did. In fact Rachel over-tipped, and he told her so, but he was very grateful and glad to see her come in. And he enjoyed giving her bits and pieces of history, she was always full of questions.

Rachel wrote a note to herself to call Belinda as soon as she returned to the hotel; she wanted to know how the treatments were going.

Her cell phone rang.

“Hello?”

“How’s my doll?”

“Oh, Pete! I was worried. It’s been a whole week again.”

“Darling, you mustn’t worry. If I can’t find a signal, I can’t call. Just believe that nothing will harm me. Nothing will prevent me from spending the rest of my life with you. I miss you, luv.”

Rachel took a deep breath. “And I miss you, too. More and more every day. So when will you be through?”

“That’s why I’m calling; we’re going to be here a bit longer, I’m afraid. Maybe till November. But that won’t interfere with our wedding at Christmas. Nothing will get in the way of that, doll. I promise.”

“Oh dear.” She hesitated. “Well, actually, I’m pretty busy here … the book and all … and I’ve some more side trips to take for research, so I guess I’ll be all right. Yes, I’ll be all right. I’m sorry, Pete; I don’t mean to be nagging. Forgive me?”

“You aren’t a nag at all. I’ve seen some real nags in my lifetime, married one before, you know. So you can rest easy about that, luv.” He laughed heartily. “Got to go, doll. I’ll talk to you in a few days.”

“Okay, take care of yourself for me.”

“I will. Bye now.”

She sighed deeply and slumped in her chair, staring sadly out the window.

Her phone rang again.

“Did you forget something? Hello? Oh, Mandy! How are you? Yes, I thought you were Pete, he just called. No, he’s still in Brazil. Yes, of course, anytime you want. That’ll work. Can you take a cab to the Metropole Hotel from the train station? Yes, they all know where it is. Sure. I’ll most likely be at the sidewalk café in front. Yes, at the hotel. Okay, see you then. I’m glad you’re coming, I desperately need the company.”

Chapter 30

Rachel adored Amanda, or Mandy, as the young lady wanted to be called. Rachel had not met as sweet a girl since she first met Belinda and Shellie. Both Belinda and Shellie had become her dear friends who she’d fight for and do whatever it took to help them with whatever they needed, if it was within her power. And now she’d met another young woman who fit the same criteria, and she felt motherly towards this one – like Janet felt towards Shellie. Probably because Amanda was so young and she was all alone in a strange land. Rachel felt a kinship to her, had been drawn to her at the onset. Felt it was for a reason.

She knew one of the reasons. She wanted to invest in Amanda, if Amanda would let her. She’d made up her mind about it the second day Amanda was in Brussels to visit her.

On the third day of the visit they were sitting at The Roy eating lunch.

“Got some good news this morning from my publisher in the States. My latest novel just hit the million mark in sales. I’m rich!” Rachel laughed.

“Congratulations! Which one is it? I’ll have to buy it and read it. I love reading novels.”

“
Love at the Louvre
. You don’t have to buy it, I have a copy at the hotel, I’ll give it to you.” She hesitated for a second. “Mandy, I also want to give you some money—”

“Oh no, you can’t do that. I’m not wanting anything from you.”

“I know that, dear. I know you aren’t the type to take from people. Believe me, I can pick up on that quicker than most. You are a talented seamstress and designer, and that’s what I want to invest in. You have to let me. It’ll be just that: an investment. We can work it all out with my attorney, if you’d rather. Make it legal.” She was grinning, wide-eyed, at Amanda, excited about the venture. “And besides, now I have the money to do it.” She laughed.

Amanda looked down at her plate for a moment, thinking about what Rachel had just proposed. She leaned back and looked at her with tear-filled eyes. “I don’t know what to say—” She couldn’t continue. She cupped her hand over her mouth and chin to hide the quivering and stop the beginnings of a sob.

“Oh, Mandy!” Rachel reached over and held her other hand. “I’m really excited about this. When you got here and handed me that beautiful silk lace jacket that you made, I mean you even made the lace, I knew right then that I wanted to help you. You need to be seen. Your creations need to be out there. It’s your dream, honey, and I can help make that happen for you. Please let me.”

“It’s so hard for me,” Amanda murmured sheepishly.

“So let’s just sort it all out and work together on it. Okay?’

“So you really think I should open the shop in Brussels instead of Bruges?” She wiped her eyes that were refilling with excitement instead of tears.

Rachel nodded. “More traffic, more local as well as tourist trade. Definitely here in Brussels. We can find a shop with an apartment overhead for you.” She took a bite of her sautéed fish. “Mmmm, this is delicious. So how long would it take you to be ready with enough garments to open a shop?”

“About three more months.”

“Okay, I’ll talk to my attorney in London and have him email a contract right away. You and I can work out the details before you go back to Bruges, and then I’ll write you a check for fabric and supplies and living expenses that will tide you over for the next six months plus. I’ll be going back to Cornwall soon. So after the first of the year, we’ll meet here in Brussels and get down to brass tacks to figure it all out, find a shop and apartment, all the fun stuff. How does that sound?”

Amanda leaned over and gave Rachel a loving hug.

Chapter 31

It was already October. Rachel couldn’t believe how fast the weeks were flying by. She had finished the first draft of her fourth novel and was taking a couple of days away from it. She decided to pack up and take the train to Paris for the weekend, after which she would head home to Cornwall.

First she sent an email to Amanda to tell her what she was going to do. Before Amanda left Brussels to return to Bruges, Rachel purchased a laptop for her and showed her the basics. Amanda learned quickly and although she couldn’t type, she used the one-finger hunt-and-peck method that worked just fine. Now they would stay in touch every day, no matter where Rachel was.

Rachel also sent an email to Pete and one to Belinda. She didn’t want to call and have long conversations; she wanted to get going. But she did call Janet and left a message that she would arrive in Paris late afternoon.

After sending the emails and reading those awaiting her from others, she shut down her computer and began packing.

Her cell phone rang.

“I don’t have time for this,” she growled aloud. She thought about letting it go to the message center, but on the last ring she decided to answer. “Hello?”

“Rachel O’Neill?”

“Yes, that’s me.”

“This is Carl Wilson in Belem. I’m with the Eden Project.”

 
“Yes, I remember you.” She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

“My dear, I’m sorry to inform you ... ”

Rachel’s heart stopped.

“ … Pete was shot and killed this morning as he and the others confronted a gang of poachers. Three of our men were killed and he was one of them. I’m so sorry.”

Her vision blurred. She shook her head. “But that can’t be. I just talked to him yesterday. No! You’re wrong! He has to be alive. He promised me. He promised! We’re getting married at Christmas!” She crumpled to the floor, still holding the phone to her ear. “He can’t be dead … he can’t …”

“Miss O’Neill, Is there someone I could call for you?”

She dropped the phone. It fell next to her as she began to rock back and forth, crying and sobbing.

“You … you promised me, Pete … you promised … I can’t do this again … I just can’t … can’t do it …”

She struggled to stand up, then staggered to the bathroom medicine cabinet.

Chapter 32

Carl Wilson called Paul and Belinda in the UK after telephoning Rachel in Brussels. He told them he’d talked to Rachel at the Metropole and it had sounded as if she’d collapsed at the news.

After failed attempts all afternoon and evening to contact Rachel, and when Janet called telling them she didn’t show up in Paris as planned, Paul spoke to the hotel and learned that Rachel hadn’t checked out. He told them to go into her room to see if she was there, that he would wait on the phone.

Five minutes later they told him they had found her unconscious on the floor, an empty prescription bottle of anti-depressants on the floor beside her, and they had called an ambulance.

He left immediately for Brussels.

When he arrived at the hotel, the manager said she’d been taken to Cliniques Universitaires Saint Luc, a local hospital. Paul couldn’t believe Rachel would have tried to take her own life. Of all people, not Rachel. He broke down in front of the hotel staff. They ushered him to an office till he was able to get control of himself. Her things were still in her room, they told him. So he asked for a key and requested that they switch the name over to his. He would be staying there till he could take her home.

When Paul saw Rachel lying in the hospital bed, her face and eyes swollen from the overdose, she was barely recognizable. He wondered why she’d been taking anti-depressants in the first place. She’d never seemed depressed. She was one of the most cheerful people he knew and always so full of energy and life. He loved that about her.

As he got closer to Rachel, the tears began to build again. He choked them back and shook his head. He lifted her pale hand and brought it to his lips. “My dear Rachel, nothing is worth this grief.”

Her eyes slowly opened. “Paul?”

“Yes, dearest, it’s me. I’m here to take you home.”

“But—“

“No buts. You’re coming home with me as soon as I can get you out of here.”

She turned away. “He’s gone, Paul … he’s gone.”

Paul could barely control his own grief over Pete, but he knew he had to at that moment. “But we’re not, Rachel. You and me, Belinda, the boys … we’re all still here and we love you. Maybe Pete has left this world, but he’ll never leave our hearts—”