Bring Holly Home Page 11

  “Found you,” Gideon drawled. “Now, I’ll go hide and you count to ten.”

  She shook her head and turned back towards the sink. She leaned heavily on the unit and stared at the mirror again.

  “I’m too old for such foolishness, Gideon,” she muttered. “Entirely too old.”

  “Oh, come on, you’re not old.” He strolled over to the other side of the room, folded his arms, and leaned against the wall. He met her eyes in the mirror.

  “I am, Gideon.” She turned around and looked at him with an expression of dead seriousness. “I’m having a midlife crisis.”

  “I thought you were sixty hundred and sixty-six years old?” he joked.

  She cracked a smile. “As you well know, that Wikipedia edit was a prank performed by one of the many second assistants whom I’ve fired.”

  “Ah.”

  “However old I am,” she continued with a sigh, “it’s clearly old. I’m having a midlife crisis. Aren’t you supposed to be supportive during this time of mental anguish?”

  “You’re not having a midlife crisis,” he told her. “What makes you think you are?”

  “Everything,” she said unhelpfully.

  He raised an eyebrow and patiently waited for her to continue.

  “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I’m confused. Emotional. My mind is playing tricks on me. I need you to take over Arrival for a while. Think of it as a practice run for our succession plans.”

  “No.” Gideon shook his head.

  “What do you mean, no?” she demanded. “I’m having a midlife crisis, support me!”

  “For the last time, you’re not having a midlife crisis,” he assured her. “You’re suddenly becoming aware that you care for Holly and you don’t like it. In fact, I’m guessing that you more than care for her.”

  “Gideon,” she warned.

  “And, as a result, you’re thinking about your age. And its relation to her age.”

  “Gideon,” she warned again.

  “Is it so awful?” he asked. “Caring for her?”

  “It is when we all know that one day her memories will return, and she’ll see me for who I am. I can accept that she has no feelings for me. Life happens, sometimes people don’t feel the same way. But I don’t want to see fear and hatred in her eyes. That will break me.”

  Ah, so that’s it, Gideon realised.

  “You think she’s going to remember working for you?” he asked.

  “Of course she will. It’s just a matter of time. She’s remembered Izzy. Slowly but surely the rest will come. Right now, it’s all locked away in that pretty little head.”

  Gideon didn’t have an answer for that. Victoria may be right. He wasn’t about to try to convince her otherwise.

  “It’s Friday, go home and rest for the weekend. See how you feel on Monday. If you truly are having a midlife crisis then I will, of course, take over,” he said.

  He pushed away from the wall to walk towards his employer and friend.

  “Victoria… don’t push her away. Whatever it is you’re feeling. Don’t lose her again.”

  “I… I won’t.” She lowered her head.

  “Good, call me if you need me.”

  He made his move to leave. As he passed her, he gently brushed his hand against hers.

  He left her alone, hoping that she wouldn’t let fear lead her. Victoria liked to give the impression that she was a strong and fearless woman, but Gideon knew that she was actually a sensitive person.

  He’d long since suspected that Victoria felt something for Holly, but he was surprised at Victoria’s casual admission of it. Even though she had told him of her feelings, he knew it would be a wintery day in Hell before she told anyone else. Specifically, Holly herself.

  He couldn’t blame her for being afraid of what Holly’s potential memories could do to their new friendship. Their working relationship had been fraught, to say the least.

  Gideon had no idea what would happen next. Holly had cared about Victoria to some degree, she’d admitted as much to him before she left. But what form that care took, and whether or not it still existed, was another matter entirely.

  He smirked ruefully as he took the elevator back to his office. He didn’t envy the situation either woman was in.

  26

  Holly opened the front door to the townhouse as quietly as she could. She turned and waved goodbye to David. He’d insisted on walking her home but steadfastly refused to even climb the stairs in case he met Victoria. Holly had spent much of the dinner reassuring him that she wasn’t being held against her will in the Hastings house.

  At first, she had thought he was being silly and overreacting, but when she remembered the news articles she had found online, and her own overreaction, she could see where he was coming from. Since she’d lived with Victoria, she had quickly discovered that the woman was very different than the myth.

  David waved back and offered her a smile. He dug his hands into his pockets and turned to walk away.

  Holly stepped inside and closed the door. She leaned against the doorframe to remove her high heels. Getting used to wearing the demon footwear was a long process, and she’d need to practise. She’d only worn the shoes for a couple of short walks – and tonight she had spent most of her time either in a taxi or at the restaurant – and she was already limping.

  She noticed a dim light coming from Victoria’s study door. She crossed the hallway, noting the untouched Arrival Book on the telephone table. It seemed curious that Victoria was in her office but not working. She peeked around the corner.

  Victoria was sitting in the armchair, her legs curled beneath her, wrapped in a sinfully soft-looking blanket. She was reading a book. The light above her seat bathed the room in a cosy glow. The whole scene looked heavenly comfortable.

  “Did you have a nice evening?” Victoria asked without looking up.

  Holly smiled. She wasn’t as stealthy as she thought. She walked into the room and sat on the sofa beside the armchair.

  “Yes, it was very nice. He’s a nice guy.”

  “Good.” Victoria continued to read her book.

  Holly angled her head but couldn’t quite see the book cover. “What are you reading?”

  Victoria lifted the book up slightly.

  “Dickens!”

  Victoria nodded. “Yes, it occurred to me that I haven’t read this since I was a little girl, many, many years ago. Bleak House was always my favourite Dickens.”

  It was obvious that, while Victoria’s mood had improved, something was still off. Holly doubted Victoria was the kind of person who would want to open up and talk about it.

  “Can I get you a drink? Some tea?” Holly offered.

  Victoria shook her head. “No, thank you.”

  “Have you eaten?” Holly knew she wasn’t doing a good job at hiding the concern in her voice.

  Victoria placed her book in her lap and smiled. “Actually, I have. I ate some of the delicious meal you prepared yesterday. Clearly you are an accomplished chef.”

  Holly felt her cheeks blush. “No, I’m just good at following instructions.”

  “Well, it was delicious. Thank you.” Victoria cleared her throat. “Gideon, a dear friend and work colleague, would love to come over and meet you sometime soon. If that is acceptable?”

  Holly was excited about the prospect of meeting someone from her past. “Absolutely, I’m free whenever he is!”

  “No more dates with Darren?” Victoria enquired, smoothing the blanket that covered her feet.

  “David,” Holly corrected with a smile. “No, no more dates with David.”

  Victoria frowned. “I thought you said you had a nice evening?”

  “Oh, I did,” Holly replied. “As I said, he is a really nice guy. I just didn’t feel anything for him, like that, I mean.”

  “Oh, I see.”

  “So, who is Gideon?” Holly pressed.

  “Gideon is my director of photography. But really, he is my ri
ght-hand man, invaluable. And a wonderful friend of many years. You worked with him extensively, and I’m led to believe that you were also rather close. Certainly closer than most of your other work colleagues. Gideon took you under his wing when you started at Arrival, showed you the ropes, etcetera.”

  Holly bit her lip with excitement. She was thrilled with the chance to meet someone who knew her, someone who could give her more insight into herself.

  “Great, whenever Gideon wants to meet up, that would be great. Except tomorrow morning.”

  “What’s happening tomorrow morning?” Victoria asked.

  “I get the key to the storage unit.” Holly blew out a nervous breath. She didn’t know if the unit would be full of trash or treasure. It would be a long and sleepless night before she found out.

  “I see. Would you like some company?”

  Holly felt her shoulders slump with relief. She’d wanted to ask for Victoria’s moral support, but she was nervous to do so in light of recent events.

  “Yes, I really would love you to be there,” she admitted.

  Victoria smiled, the first real smile Holly had seen from her in a while.

  “What time would you like to be there?” Victoria asked.

  “The office opens at nine, and I kind of wanted to be there first thing. It’s by Central Park, West Eighty-Fourth.”

  Victoria’s eyes flicked towards the ceiling as she calculated the information. “We’ll leave at quarter to nine. That gives us plenty of time. And I’ll take the Range.”

  “R-range? As in Range Rover?”

  “Yes, in case you want to bring anything back,” Victoria clarified.

  Holly had never thought of Victoria as a driver, much less a New York driver. As far as she knew, the woman was always chauffeured.

  “Thank you, I really appreciate that,” Holly said in earnest. She couldn’t believe how lucky she was. Victoria had found her, rescued her, and continued to help and support her. Yes, she was a little frosty at times, but Holly could see that it was mainly an act.

  “I was just about to head to bed,” Victoria said. She started to stand up.

  “Oh, you looked so comfortable. I was going to grab a book of my own and join you.”

  Victoria folded the blanket and placed it on the back of the armchair. “Feel free to use the room, I’ve had a long day and an early night is on the cards.”

  Holly didn’t believe her for one moment, but she allowed the older woman her escape. “Okay, good night.”

  Victoria picked up her book and nodded her own good night.

  Holly stretched her arms up and wondered what to do. She knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep. She had genuinely been considering reading, but mainly to be with Victoria. After spending so much time with her, she now found she missed her company.

  She stood up and walked over to the bookshelves. There was no order to the books that Holly could discern. They were from various authors and in various genres. The only common theme was that they were all specially bound, artistic special editions.

  Another bookcase was filled with back issues of Arrival Magazine. She picked one up at random, pulling the one beside it out to act as a marker. She opened the edition and saw Victoria’s face staring back at her beside the Editor’s Letter for that month. She read through the letter and chuckled at the light tone and jokes. She slowly walked over to the armchair, her nose still in the magazine.

  Victoria knew she was asleep. She knew she was dreaming. And yet she was powerless to stop the narrative from playing out. In her dream, she was asleep in bed, much the same as in real life. She could feel that strange dreamlike aura, that fuzzy confusion that prevents one from quite grasping onto reality.

  In the dream, the creaking of the bedroom door woke her. She noticed the lamp on the bedside table was on, which was unusual. She never left it on while she slept. The light enabled her to see Holly in the doorway.

  Her mouth instantly ran dry.

  Holly entered the bedroom, one hand leaning casually on the doorframe. She was dressed in Victoria’s favourite couture from the Aubade 2015 collection. Holly’s long hair curled around her pale shoulders, and Victoria distantly wondered when the girl had grown her hair again.

  “Shh,” Holly hushed before Victoria had the chance to form a cohesive sentence.

  Victoria sat up in bed, pulling the sheets with her to keep herself covered. At least one of them should be worried about decency.

  “What’s all this nonsense about a midlife crisis?” Holly asked as she sauntered into the bedroom.

  Victoria stared in shock as Holly approached the end of the bed, staring at Victoria with what could only be described as ravenous hunger.

  “That feeling in your stomach, the one you attribute to guilt,” Holly whispered. “You know that’s not guilt, don’t you?”

  Victoria swallowed hard and reminded herself that this was a dream.

  Holly climbed up the bed too quickly for her to protest. In a matter of seconds, she had straddled Victoria. She leant her elbows on either side of Victoria, close enough for Victoria to feel the heat pulsing from her lingerie-clad body through the sheet.

  “You know that’s desire, don’t you? You desire me, Victoria. Don’t you?”

  Victoria woke up with a jolt. She sat upright in her empty bed, heavy breaths falling from her open mouth. Her eyes raced around the darkness to assure herself that she was alone.

  “Oh, shit,” she murmured.

  27

  Victoria woke early the next morning to catch up on some work with the Book. The previous evening she had been too preoccupied by Holly’s absence to get anything done. She’d constantly wondered how her date was going and debated how insane she’d seem if she texted Holly to ask if she was okay. Dickens had eventually come to her salvation and kept her entertained, well, distracted, until Holly had returned.

  But now it was time to work.

  Especially after the unwelcome dream last night. She was a firm believer in using work to suppress one’s feelings. For years, Victoria had reaped the benefits of burying herself in work as an avoidance tactic.

  Of course, she enjoyed her work and was incredibly proud of what she had achieved during her time at Arrival. But she had noticed parallels between her life and her work output. She could catalogue most of her life events through Arrival issues, layouts, trends, models, revenue, and circulation numbers.

  Most people would remember the death of a parent by the year. Victoria remembered her father’s death as the sixteen-page spread on sixties revival haircuts, shoes, and hemlines. The birth of her son Hugo was marked by the launch of the new website. Her daughter Alexia by the new font for the iconic headline. The death of her marriage was marked by the worst advertising revenue month in history. Poetic, in a way.

  She tried to throw herself into her work now, but she found it difficult. Her mind was unfocused. It was taking longer than ever to go through the Book. Her wastepaper bin was overflowing with screwed-up Post-It notes that marked where she changed her mind.

  Eventually she threw her pen down and gave up. She looked at her watch. It was a mere forty-five minutes before they were due to leave for the storage locker. She sighed and removed her glasses. She closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair, trying to gather her thoughts.

  She wondered what the storage locker would hold. According to Gideon, Holly had just broken up with her girlfriend before leaving for Paris. There was a chance that a wealth of memory-evoking materials was hoarded away in the locker.

  She found herself wondering about Holly’s memory of Izzy. Why did she remember the dog? It wasn’t like they had spent a lot of time together. There was the time Victoria had sent her to the vet after Izzy had eaten an entire bowl of fruit and contracted chronic diarrhoea. She didn’t want to see her pet in pain, but she also didn’t want to accompany her as she knew it would be a messy job. Sending Holly, who she had been punishing at the time, seemed like a good compromise all around.

/>   She supposed that was something that wouldn’t easily be forgotten. Then again, she’d also taken Izzy to be groomed on several occasions and had claimed to have enjoyed it.

  Was Izzy a good memory or a bad one? Did memory retrieval work like that? She had no idea.

  She smiled smugly to herself. In the whole of New York, Holly had only recalled Izzy to date. There was a small sense of satisfaction. Holly had remembered something close to Victoria, and that was something to be happy about.

  “Victoria?”

  She opened her eyes and saw Holly standing in the doorway.

  “I’m not disturbing you, am I?”

  “Not at all,” Victoria replied. She sat forward and pulled the Book towards her to at least pretend she had gotten some work done.

  “How did you sleep?” Holly asked.

  Victoria hoped her blush wasn’t visible. “Well, yourself?”

  “I was awake most of the night,” Holly admitted.

  “Oh? Any particular reason?”

  “I think I’m nervous about what I’ll find today.”

  You and me both, Victoria thought. “I’m sure it will be fine. How about some breakfast to settle your stomach?”

  Holly tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “That would be nice. Join me?”

  Victoria meant to say no, but somehow found she was already on her feet.

  The journey to the storage unit was made in silence. Holly was nervous and didn’t know what to say. She could also detect a strange mood in Victoria. She was desperate to not have another disagreement, they had started to get back to normal and she didn’t want to make things worse.

  She’d managed to convince Victoria to eat breakfast with her, but that, too, had been a silent affair. She just didn’t know where she stood with the elusive woman, and she longed for the Victoria she first met in Paris to return.

  Luckily, it didn’t take long before they were pulling into the parking lot of the large storage facility.