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“Yes, well, I dealt with it.”
“How?”
“I had him deported.”
“Good.”
“Was it? You see, now I don’t know if it was the right thing. I owe this man, you see. He did something for me once, something kind and noble, at great cost to himself. But when he needed me, I turned him away.” To Alexia’s own astonishment, she found herself starting to cry. “I just felt under so much pressure! The telephone threats, Billy turning up like that out of the blue . . .”
“His name’s Billy? The man from your past.”
Alexia nodded. “And there’ve been other things too. The whole cabinet hates me. I know I’m being briefed on an almost daily basis. Then there was that awful business with our dog being poisoned. Teddy’s dog, really.”
Lucy looked suitably horrified.
“Sometimes it feels as if it’s all connected, all the hatred. But I don’t know what the connection is. That’s the awful thing. I don’t know, and the not knowing is driving me mad. This ought to be the happiest time of my life, but instead I feel like I’m going crazy.”
“Well,” Lucy said reasonably, “it sounds as if this Billy guy may be at the root of it. Now that you’ve had him deported, things will start to get better, I’m sure.”
“I hope so.” Alexia sniffed. “But what if it’s nothing to do with him? Anyone could be behind these threats. It could be one of the prisoners whose sentences I increased, or one of their family members. So many people hate me, Lucy. Even my own daughter hates me. Let’s face it, if anyone wants my blood shed in the dust, it’s Roxanne.”
“That’s not true,” Lucy said loyally, although she suspected it was. She couldn’t help but notice Roxie’s brooding at supper, the way the girl had literally recoiled at the sound of Alexia’s voice, as if bitten by a snake. Things had clearly got worse on that front since Lucy had last seen the De Veres. But Alexia could be terribly caustic toward her daughter too, a fact she seemed completely blind to.
Arnie Meyer poked his head into the kitchen and was amazed to find his wife on her knees, comforting a sobbing Alexia De Vere. Arnie had never seen Alexia cry in his life. Not even when Roxie was in the hospital, fighting for her life.
“What on earth’s the matter?”
“It’s nothing,” said Alexia.
“Can I help?”
“Yes,” said Lucy practically. “You can take the coffee things out to the table. We need a minute here.”
“Should I get Teddy?”
“No.” Alexia shook her head vehemently. “Poor Teddy’s stressed enough as it is. Let him relax. Honestly, Arnie, I’m fine. I just got a little emotional.”
Pulling a perfectly pressed white linen handkerchief out of a drawer, Lucy Meyer passed it to her friend.
“We can’t talk now. There are too many people here.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I ruined your dinner.”
“Nonsense. It was your dinner anyway.”
“ ‘It’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to’?”
“Exactly!” Both women laughed. “I was going to say we should take a walk together tomorrow. I know a great secluded beach on the north of the island. If we leave early enough, we’ll have the place to ourselves.”
“Sounds heavenly. But I can’t tomorrow. Teddy’s flying back to London for a big business meeting on Tuesday and I promised him we’d spend tomorrow together. We’re sailing.”
“Next week, then. After he’s gone. I’m not going anywhere.”
Alexia squeezed Lucy’s hand. She felt profoundly grateful for her friendship. “I’d like that.”
“Then you can tell me everything.”
If only I could.
