'Good morning,' I whispered shyly.
Fergus grinned back at me, tilting his head as if he was about to speak to a child. 'Now, tell us, Kate dear, how does it feel to never have to worry about money ever again?' he asked, his toothpaste advert teeth twinkling beneath the heat of the studio lights.
'Erm, well, I guess it's... erm, kind of... erm,' I felt so bloody stupid. Great time for my brain to stop working. 'I - erm. Great,' I nodded. 'Great, really great.' Idiot.
Ireland glanced across at her grey-haired colleague and pouted before nodding. 'Tell us how you knew this man. This,' she glanced down at the iPad on her lap and continued, 'Samuel?'
I cleared my throat and lifted my head, feeling like my brain was back in action. 'He was a very good friend of the family, some years ago,' I answered.
'Just a friend? Why did he leave you all his money and his property?' asked Fergus.
'He didn't have any family and I guess you could say that my mother and I were the closest he ever had to a family.'
'Isn't that lovely?' pouted Ireland. 'You certainly are a lucky woman. But what about your mother? Didn't she receive any of his inheritance?'
'No,' I said before swallowing hard. 'My mother lives a rather... nomadic lifestyle, in Africa. She doesn't want any of it. All she asked of me was to donate a sum to charity which, of course, I have done.'
'She lives in Africa? A nomadic lifestyle? That sounds intriguing. Perhaps we should interview her one of these days,' laughed Ireland and Fergus together.
'Have you splashed out on anything since receiving your inheritance back in June?' they asked, leaning forward eagerly awaiting my answer.
'Yes I have actually. I bought a car and a new house.'
'Well good for you, Kate. But now, most of us are curious about this boy you lost. Tell us about him?'
Oh no. Why did I agree to this?
Taking a deep breath, I knew I had no choice. Several articles had been printed since the one in Liberty; everyone wanted to know more and nobody was going to leave me alone until I told them everything.
'He was just a boy who I had a connection with when I was much, much younger. It was at Skegness. At an afternoon disco for kids. I was dancing and I felt someone touch my back and when I turned around there he was. The most beautiful boy I'd ever seen,' I said, stopping and smiling as I reminisced. ‘It was one of the happiest memories of my life.'
Sighing, I continued, 'We just looked at each other and it was like everything else just disappeared into the background. We stood staring, for what seemed like ages. I could barely move. And then, almost as soon as it had begun, my dad appeared and took me away. I couldn't do anything as we walked to the car. I looked around for the boy but he was gone. And then, just as we were driving away, I turned around in my seat and there he was. He had a daffodil in his hand. I always assumed he'd gone to pick it for me, but that's just a childish fantasy, I guess. The whole thing is probably nothing but a childish fantasy, really.'
Ireland was very carefully dabbing at her eyes with a tissue, pretending to be moved, while Fergus smiled sadly.
'What a beautiful story, Kate. I don't believe for one second that this is a childish fantasy. It's romantic and beautiful,' Ireland said.
'Now, tell us, Kate. Why did you call him Fred?' asked Fergus.
Smiling, I explained about the Right Said Fred song, just as the music began in the background.
'What a wonderful tale. Thank you, Kate, for joining us today. It's been a pleasure having you with us to share your story,' said Fergus.
'Thank you,' I whispered before the camera moved back to Ireland as she straightened her skirt and looked alluring. 'Do you remember this moment in time?' she asked. 'Are you the elusive Fred? We'd love to hear from you. You can contact us at...'
Before I could hear anything else, I was ushered off the couch and back behind the scenes where Jo stood, waiting patiently for me, with open arms.
'You were great,' she whispered as the team directed us out of the studio.
'You think? I was terrible...' I groaned.
'No you weren't. Seriously. Did you see everyone in there? You almost brought them all to tears, Kate. You were great. I wouldn't lie to you.'
Before we got into my car, I dropped my head on to her shoulder as she gently rubbed my arm. 'There, you've done it now. You promised you'd speak to the press and you've done it. You gave your exclusive. Hopefully they'll leave you alone now,' she said as we climbed into the little car and sped off, away from the TV studio, towards the airport.
'Thanks for coming to the airport, Jo, and for taking my car back home.'
'No problem. I wouldn't want you to drive all that way on your own, although you could have taken a chauffeur driven limo,' she said with a wink before continuing. 'Seriously, though, I've been dying to drive this little thing,' she giggled as she put her foot down on the accelerator.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Dinner was at a cosy Portuguese restaurant that just happened to be owned by Jorge's brother, Miguel, and his sister-in-law, Isabel, who had made me feel very welcome from the moment I'd been introduced. Jorge and his family were down to Earth, honest and kind, like most Portuguese people I'd met, and they didn't seem to care about my new found wealth or 'celebrity' status.
After we'd ordered our dinner, Jorge poured the two of us a glass of red wine before disappearing to speak to his brother.
Shifting excitedly in my seat, I leaned forward and took Liz's hand in mine.
'Liz, I've got something I'd like to discuss with you.'
She leaned forward and smiled. 'Yes?'
'I've finally decided what I'm going to do with Casa Linda...'
'You have? Oh, are you going to sell it?'
'Hang on, I'm getting there. I've decided to transform it into a retreat: a health and beauty spa and... I want you to run it for me.'
Liz's eyes widened and she dropped my hand in shock before moving her hands to her face.
'I...I...I don't know what to say,' she whispered.
'Just say yes. Say you'll do it.'
Swallowing hard she turned to look for Jorge. When he spotted her looking for him, he smiled warmly before rushing to her side.
'What is problem?'
A grin began to spread across her face.
'Kate wants me to run a health and beauty spa at Casa Linda. Jorge, she wants me to run a spa... here... on the island!' she squealed.
Jorge looked from his fiancée to me and back again, confusion clouding his eyes.
'I... I do not understand.'
'I want to make Casa Linda into a spa, Jorge, and I want Liz and you to run it for me. Would you like that?' I asked slowly, hoping he'd understand.
When he realised what we meant, he smiled proudly at Liz.
'Business? You want us run a business here in the Açores? A spa?' he asked as we nodded.
'Yes.'
Liz stood up and came round to my side of the table, hugging me tightly.
'Of course we'll do it. There's nothing more I'd love to do in the whole world, Kate. Thank you, thank you so much.'
After Jorge kissed me on both cheeks and all three of us sat back down, he poured himself a glass of wine.
'I know you've never run a business before, Liz, but Tony has said that he's just at the end of the phone if you need help with anything. And I am too, obviously. I couldn't think of anyone I'd rather have running the retreat than you. You're perfect for the job and you can also continue to carry out treatments - if you want to, of course.'
I sat back down and relaxed my shoulders into the comfy, high-backed hair.
'Ooh yes, I'd love to carry on. I can't believe that's your decision. Casa Linda is going to make the most beautiful spa. I can't wait!' she said. 'Have you decided exactly what you'd like to do with the place?'
'I've got some ideas but I want your input first. If it's okay with you, I thought we could make some plans tomorrow?'
'That would be perfect,' Liz s
aid as we clinked glasses just as our presunto and melon arrived.
oOo
I leaned over the balcony of the bedroom I'd initially chosen as my own and watched the waves slowly make their way across the Atlantic Ocean. Although I couldn't see them crashing against the rocks below, I could hear them gently pounding the cliffs.
The curtains began to sway in the soft gentle breeze as I took a sip of my tea, watching a seagull circle up above. Shivering, I closed the window and looked at the view from the warmth of my room.
It was such a spectacular spot. I smiled as I thought about the plans Liz and I had sketched a few days earlier. The retreat was going to be stunning and I couldn't wait until it was finished and ready for business.
Julianne had already informed me that she planned to do a special feature on the spa, in an upcoming edition, which was fantastic.
I'd spoken to some local builders and had been in touch with a number of specialist spa equipment companies in the UK and the US. I had given them all Liz's contact details, as she was happy to take over, allowing me to 'get on with my life back home.'
She was such a gem and it was absolutely wonderful she'd finally met her soul mate. And to think, it all happened because of Samuel. I looked up at the sky, and whispered silent thanks to him, as if he were up there somewhere, watching from above.
The sound of a bell almost caused me to drop my tea and I cursed, spilling a drop on my white fluffy night gown.
Rushing downstairs to the front door, I lifted the phone connected to the front gate.
'Hello?'
'Kate Robinson?' asked a deep voice.
I sighed, knowing what was coming next.
'Miss Robinson, my name is Greg Malone. I'm a reporter for the......'
Looking up at the ceiling, I cursed silently. How was it possible for the press to follow me halfway across the Atlantic, for goodness sake?
I would have loved to tell him to bugger off but I felt sorry for the guy. After all, I worked as a feature writer for Liberty magazine so I knew how it felt to get the brush off.
'Mr Malone, please come on up,' I said slowly, pressing the automatic buzzer that allowed the gate to open.
Rushing back up to my bedroom, I threw on a pair of skinny jeans, a warm sweater and a pair of knee high boots before opening the front door just as he was climbing out of his hire car.
'Miss Robinson, thank you so much for agreeing to speak to me,' he said, his hand outstretched.
'I couldn't exactly turn you away now, could I? You've travelled miles to see me,' there was just a hint of irritation in my voice.
'I'm so sorry. It's my boss, well, she insisted, you see... Well, she's a little...erm...'
'Pushy?' I suggested with a smile. 'It's alright. I understand. I work for a magazine, so I know what the business is like. Please, come in,' I offered, holding the front door open for the tall dark-haired reporter.
'Wow,' he whispered, stepping through the living room and out onto the terrace.
'Impressive isn't it?'
Greg nodded, speechless.
'Can I get you something to drink, Mr Malone?'
'Greg, please,' he smiled, revealing a chipped front tooth as he took out a large notepad and pen, as well as a dictaphone. 'A glass of water would be great, thanks.'
I walked back indoors and poured us both a tall glass before heading back outside, where I sat opposite him.
'Thank you,' he downed it in one go.
'You were obviously thirsty.'
'I've been driving around for ages trying to find the house,' he admitted.
'Well, here you are.'
'Yes and it's absolutely stunning. What a fabulous holiday home you have now.'
'We're actually going to be turning it into a spa. We've just been working on the plans over the past few days.'
Greg nodded and switched on the dictaphone.
'Congratulations on your recent inheritance. You must be delighted?' he asked.
'Thank you. It is quite life changing.'
'Can you tell me what you plan to do with the money?'
I raised my eyebrows.
'Well, I donated some to charity and then I bought myself a house and a new car. And, as I mentioned earlier, I'm transforming Casa Linda into a health and beauty spa.'
Greg nodded with a smile.
'Tell me a little more about the spa?' he asked.
'Erm, it will simply be called ‘Spa Casa Linda Azores’. There will be at least ten bedrooms, for staying guests, and we will offer the usual spa treatments, although the manager, Liz Stilwell, is currently looking into some more unusual alternative treatments as well. But I can't tell you much more about it, at the moment. It's still early days.'
'When do you intend the spa to open to the public?'
'It will be open for business on New Year's Day, but we won't be doing a launch until the summer, when we'll have more equipment and treatments available.'
Greg waited for a moment, holding his pen to his mouth deep in thought before asking, 'What can you tell me about the man who left you all of this, Mr. Samuel Simoes?'
'Just that he was a very gentle and friendly person.'
'Why was he such a good friend to you and your mother?'
'Oh, I, erm...Well, we spent many summers with him. I guess we just clicked.'
'Is it true that he and your mother, were in fact... lovers?'
Blood rushed to my head and I felt myself sway slightly to one side as I stood up so briskly that I needed to lean on the chair.
'I'm sorry, Mr. Malone but I refuse to answer such terrible questions. I gave you the benefit of the doubt by letting you into my house. I would like it if you would please leave now,' I said shakily.
'I'm sorry Miss Robinson. I didn't mean to offend you. My boss insisted I ask you that question. Please allow me to continue. I promise not to bring it up again,' he said, nervously remaining seated.
Breathing heavily for a moment, I calmed myself down and returned to my seat, looking at him, waiting.
'How has your father taken the news about your inheritance?'
I gulped and answered. 'Very well. Naturally, he was a bit shocked, but he's very happy for me.'
'And his wife? I believe she used to be a friend of yours?'
I rolled my eyes. 'She still is a friend of mine and yes, we did go to school together. She's delighted for me, of course she is.'
Nodding, Greg continued, 'You stated in the Liberty article that you've returned to Skegness on numerous occasions hoping to find...' he stopped, checking some of his notes before continuing. 'Fred. Did you honestly think he would ever really be there?' he asked, smirking.
I chuckled. 'Honestly? Deep down I probably knew I'd never see him again, but I hoped. I always had hope.'
'Why haven't you ever settled down?'
'I've never met the right guy, I guess.'
'Is that because of Fred?'
I raised my eyebrows. 'Partly, I suppose it is.'
'So Julian Smith was not a serious boyfriend then?'
'How did you find out about Julian?' I asked through gritted teeth.
'I'm a reporter, Miss Robinson, it's my job to find out these things.'
'Julian Smith was my boyfriend when I was about seventeen years old. He was a great guy. I was very fond of him.'
'But it wasn't serious?' asked Greg.
I shook my head. 'Of course it wasn't serious. We were seventeen, for goodness’ sake!'
'So you didn't split up because of Fred?'
I didn't like where this was going.
'No, not really. We just... grew apart,' I whispered.
'Not because you compared him to Fred?'
'Oh, maybe I did, what does that matter?' I answered, exasperated.
Greg nodded and wrote down more notes.
'Would you say you were... obsessed with this Fred character?' he asked.
The question actually made me laugh and I couldn't help but nod. 'I suppose I have been a bit ob
sessed in the past. But not anymore. It's just a childhood fantasy, now. I know I'll never see him again. I think everybody's taking it way out of proportion. I was just a kid.'
Greg smiled, genuinely this time.
'I understand,' he jotted down a few more notes before leaning sideways and placing his satchel on the table. He pulled out a number of newspapers and handed them to me.
'So, if it's just a fantasy and you don't believe you'll ever see him again, what do you think about these?' he said as I unfolded them to find pictures of me all over the front pages, me in my dressing gown opening the front door of my old home, me heading to the office, me and Jo leaving the TV studio and even more shocking of all, me sitting all alone at the beach just down the road from Casa Linda.
I sat, mouth agape, flicking through them all. Each article pointed to a larger article within and when I opened the pages, there were small pictures of hundreds of men... all claiming to be Fred.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
'Hello, Miss Robinson? Hi. I'm calling from the Good Morning GB Studios. We've got rather a lot of mail for you here and we'd like to arrange for it to be delivered to you. Would it be possible for you to give me your address? Alternatively, if you'd rather not do that, can you tell us where else we can deliver it to?' asked the woman sweetly.
'Erm, of course,' I said not quite sure what to tell her. 'Please can you hold for a moment?' I asked as I covered the phone and looked across at Julianne while we sat in her office. Explaining the situation, Julianne insisted I tell them to have it delivered to Liberty.
'Erm, hello? Can you deliver it to the office of Liberty magazine in London please? Thank you so much,' I said before putting my mobile back in my handbag.
'Thanks, Julianne, you're a star. I've no idea what that mail is, though.'
'You're kidding, right?' she said as Beckham jumped onto my lap and began purring, begging for me to stroke his belly (if only it was the real Beckham). 'It'll be mail from potential Freds. No doubt about it.'