Page 9 of Forever Fredless


  Even though I was now seriously rich, I was still yet to succumb to buying my own house, or even my own car. I was content using public transport and still happy to live in Jo's basement flat.

  In fact, I was on the bus on my way home that day when I noticed two young women reading Liberty. Because it was the latest edition, I couldn’t help eavesdropping.

  'Oh my god,' said one. 'Have you read about this woman who inherited millions?'

  'I know,' the other answered as she flicked back to the pages.

  'God, can you imagine having that sort of money?'

  They continued chatting about what they would do if they were rich, including buying a large yacht, having liposuction and hiring George Clooney.

  I suppressed a giggle.

  As my stop loomed ahead and I stood up, I heard one of them say, 'But the first thing I'd do would be buy a nice car and stop using public transport. This is so gross. Look at that, someone’s been sick over there,' she pointed to a load of stinky vomit in the corner of the bus.

  Hopping down the steps, I watched it drive off into the distance.

  Perhaps she was right. Maybe it was time to splash out on my own car. It wasn’t as if I didn’t drive. I passed my test, the second time, around ten years ago; I just never really needed a car. I guess it was about time. It wasn’t like I couldn’t afford it.

  That evening, as Jo and I sat eating a Chinese takeaway in my cosy living room, we pondered over what car to buy.

  'I certainly don’t need anything big,' I said, stuffing the most delicious Singapore noodles into my mouth. 'But then I don’t want something too small, either. It needs to be able to sit four, including me.'

  Jo nodded, unable to speak as she chewed on a rather large mouthful of sweet and sour pork.

  'So you don’t fancy anything flash, then?' she eventually asked.

  Shaking my head, I couldn’t think of anything worse. I didn’t want anything too sporty and I didn’t want anything that would draw too much attention to myself.

  'It should be nippy though, I can’t be doing with a car that’s got no guts to it,' I laughed, remembering my dad’s old Peugeot that was so slow it was embarrassing. We used to get hooted at traffic lights, people thinking he hadn’t noticed the lights turn green. He had of course, it was just that the car was so slow to get going. Mind you, it was an enormous vehicle, far too big for its’ engine size.

  Jo had a BMW X5. It was fantastic but I didn’t want something quite so big.

  'How about a Mini?' she suggested, taking a sip of wine.

  Hm. That wasn’t a bad idea, although Minis were a bit common.

  As if reading my mind, she said, 'You could get one sprayed a different colour to make it a bit more unique.'

  Nodding, I pictured a pink mini with cream leather interior. I loved it. I guess I would have a mini, then. That was easy. Although considering I didn’t want one that drew too much attention to myself – a pink mini probably would do just that. But, what the heck.

  The next day I planned to look for my nearest dealership and see if I could get one in pink. My favourite colour!

  'You’re so predictable,' Jo moaned. 'You and Carly, with your pink,' she said, smiling and shaking her head.

  Carly would go nuts when I told her about my plans. I was excited about telling her, but it would have to wait until after the weekend, as she was spending a few days with a school friend. She was growing up so fast. It only felt like yesterday when Jo and I were changing her nappies.

  The next day I woke up bright and early, eager to get out and order my new car. Jo was too busy to come along so I'd roped in Anna and John for extra support. After all, I'd never ordered a new car before.

  Unfortunately, ordering a new car wasn't quite as straight forward as I'd hoped. Because I wanted a very specific shade of pink, I'd have to have it especially made.

  I told the dealer that I wanted a different shade of pink, with cream leather interior and cream stripes on the bonnet – not black, nor white. But cream.

  As the words tumbled from my mouth, I realised I sounded a bit of a diva, and so I looked away in embarrassment.

  Anna burst out laughing while John was far too busy inspecting all the other cars for sale to have even noticed.

  'Sorry,' I blushed, 'I really don’t mean to sound like a drama queen. I’m not usually like this,' I giggled nervously like a youngster. God it was embarrassing.

  'That’s alright, my love,' he replied. 'If you really want to have the car especially made to order, it’s not a problem, you just have to be prepared for quite a wait. To have one made will take a few months,' he said confidently.

  There I was, hoping to be able to drive the car almost immediately, well okay maybe not straight away but I thought it would only be a few weeks, not months. I sighed, ignoring everyone around me, thinking about what to do.

  'Let’s go and have a cup of coffee and think about it, Kate,' said John who had re-joined us.

  'Erm. Okay. We’ll be back. Thanks for your help,' I said as they dragged me away outside.

  As we settled down in the café right next door, John ordered three cappuccinos and a couple of chocolate brownies before we talked about what I should do.

  'Another option is to buy one of the ones in there, in another colour and take it to a local garage to be re-sprayed,' suggested John. 'At least then you wouldn’t have to wait, would you?'

  'No, that’s not what she’s going to do at all,' said Anna, matter of factly, as she took a bite out of her brownie.

  I looked at her, confused.

  'I'm not?'

  'You’re going to order one with every spec that you want and it’s going to be completely and utterly yours. Made precisely for you,' she said, smiling as a few crumbs fell out of her open mouth before continuing. 'Come on, Kate,' she looked around surreptitiously and lowered her voice. 'You’re insanely rich and so far all you’ve spent is a couple of thousand on a holiday to the Azores. Don’t you think it’s time that you splashed out on yourself? You deserve it,' she looked around again secretively, making sure she hadn't been overheard. Confident that no-one was listening, she leaned back and grinned.

  She was right of course, and what better way to treat myself than on a car that would be completely me?

  I slowly grinned back.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Unbeknown to me, the office had begun receiving lots of phone calls from the press wanting to know the identity of the woman in September’s main feature.

  Julianne had called me into her office that morning and confessed.

  'Kate, don’t be alarmed but...' and then she told me all about the fact she'd had the BBC, ITV, Sky News, Elle Magazine, Marie Claire, all the well-known weeklies and lots of other journalists on the phone. They all wanted to know who I was.

  I panicked, terrified I was going to be hunted down by all those scary people. I hadn’t even put the television or the radio on for a few days; I’d been too busy talking to Tony about Sam, day dreaming about my new car that would take months to be delivered and pondering about how on Earth I was going to talk to my dad about all of this.

  It turned out I was fast becoming front page news. My story had generated so much interest that almost everyone was asking ‘Who’s That Girl’ (a particularly popular headline, apparently).

  That night I convened an emergency meeting at Jo’s house – my flat wasn’t really big enough for everyone. I invited Julianne and Syd, Anna and John, Jo and Carly and Tony and Zara (I thought it best that Zara came too, considering it was an evening thing). Sadly, Liz and Jorge couldn’t make it considering they were thousands of miles away. I decided I would call her the next morning to discuss the problem.

  As everyone began arriving, wondering why they had been summoned at such short notice, I stood alone in the bathroom, staring in the mirror. I wondered what would happen if the press did find out who I was. Would they hound me? Would I start getting letters from everybody, asking for money? Begging lett
ers? I shuddered at the thought. I had never wanted to be famous, not really.

  Pulling myself together, straightening my spine and taking a deep breath, I went out to greet my closest friends.

  'Hi everyone!' I called out. 'Thanks for coming. Sorry about the short notice. Oh, thanks, Jo,' I said as she handed me a much needed glass of white wine, and squeezed my arm encouragingly.

  I spotted Tony, and with him was a small, exquisite-looking, dark-haired beauty. She had long straight black hair, down to her waist, and the features of the most beautiful china doll. She smiled as soon as she saw me. I knew instantly we would become good friends.

  'You must be Kate,' she said, lightly pushing Tony aside so she could kiss my cheek. 'It’s such a pleasure to meet you, at last. Tony has told me so much about you,' she said huskily.

  'The pleasure is really all mine, Zara. I’ve heard a lot about you, too - all good, of course!' I laughed, thrilled that the couple had clearly overcome their problems. They were very much in love and it pleased me, secretly knowing that I may have helped bring them back together again.

  'Thanks for coming, Tony. I’m so glad you brought Zara along, she’s lovely,' I whispered as we exchanged hugs.

  He smiled back, knowingly and thankfully.

  'I think I might know why we’re all here,' he said to everyone, surprising even me. I wondered what he knew.

  Everyone turned to him, each gingerly sipping at their wine, except Carly, who drank from a can of Coca Cola and John from a can of lager.

  'If anyone has read the papers or seen the news over the past few days, they’ll know that everyone wants to know our Kate here.'

  I cringed and blushed at the same time, aware that the eyes of my closest friends were on me.

  Clearing my throat, I nodded. 'Yes it seems that everyone, and I mean everyone, has read Liberty this month, which is absolutely fantastic. It’s given us major coverage. It’s just what the magazine needed. The bad side though, is that everybody does seem to want to know who I am. Honestly, guys, I don’t think I can cope with everyone in the UK knowing my name, knowing my face and knowing that I am... erm... well, rather well off,' a little laughter ensued. 'Do you think we can keep this to ourselves? Is it physically possible? Can you all keep my secret for me?' I pleaded.

  Everyone began nodding. 'Of course, Kate, we wouldn’t dream of telling anyone. You’re our best pal. We will always protect you,' answered Jo.

  'I’m sorry to have dragged you all here just because of this, but since Julianne told me about it earlier, I’ve been worrying myself silly. Thanks so much for coming, you guys. But fear not... I have ordered in some food so at least we can eat well,' I laughed.

  As if on cue, the doorbell rang.

  'Pizza!' shouted Carly as she rushed to open the front door.

  Sure enough, pizza had arrived and we all settled down around Jo’s ginormous dining table and dug in, while discussing ways in which to put off the press if they continued to call the office.

  As the evening wore on, I was pleased the conversation gradually moved on from my awkward circumstances to current affairs and the latest reality TV shows. All in all, we had a lovely night.

  Tony and Zara were the last to leave. It was clear Zara had been wanting to say something to me but, every time she approached me, Tony would suddenly appear, smiling, as if not wanting his lovely lady to leave his side. He hadn’t stopped holding her hand almost all night.

  I went to bed confident my friends would protect me at all costs and I eventually drifted off into the land of sleep, my last thought being Fred (naturally).

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  I called Liz the following morning.

  'Kate! Jorge, it’s Kate!' she yelled so loud I'd had to hold the phone away from my ear.

  ''Hi Liz!' How’s things?' I asked, thrilled to hear her so happy. It was so long overdue.

  'Fantastic, really fantastic. Jorge and I are so happy over here. I could do with a proper job though, but I’m sure something will come up eventually. But its soooooo good to hear from you. How are things with you? When are you coming over? Found a man yet? How’s the gang?' she asked, giggling.

  'Fine, fine. Everyone’s great, thanks. However there’s a bit of an odd situation developing, which is the main reason I’m calling, apart from finding out how you are, of course,' I laughed before continuing. 'You know that article I wrote for Liberty? Well, people are asking questions. Julianne has had the world and his brother ringing up asking for my true identity. For obvious reasons, I don’t really want anyone to know. So I was just ringing to ask you not to tell anyone about me. I realise that there will be people on the island that will know me, but I doubt the press will go over there. But, just in case they do, can you keep my secret?' I babbled

  'God, you really are worrying aren’t you? It all sounds like something out of a movie, doesn’t it? It’s quite exciting really isn’t it?' she laughed, before stopping herself abruptly. 'But of course I can keep a secret, Kate. I wouldn’t dream of telling anyone. You’re one of my best mates and you need to be protected,' she said.

  'It’s funny,' I said. 'That’s what the rest of the gang said. Thanks, Liz, I appreciate it. I really do. But now, enough about me, when are you two going to tie the knot?'

  Liz promised me I would be the first to know, after her mum. We spoke for another ten minutes or so before promising to talk again soon and I put the phone down and flopped on the sofa.

  Seconds later, the phone rang. I didn’t bother getting up, I just reached across and picked it up, still horizontal.

  'Hello?'

  'Hi sweetheart, its Mum!' yelled a voice on the other end of the phone.

  I jumped up immediately. 'Mum!' I shouted back.

  I could hear her laughing. 'How are you, my angel? I felt the urge to call. There’s nothing wrong is there?'

  How is it that, since she has lived in Africa, she always seems to know when to call?

  'There’s nothing seriously wrong, no,' I answered back, stifling a yawn. 'It’s just that I’ve got myself into a bit of a situation here. Nothing to worry about really, Mum. It’s just that the whole world seems to want to know who I am.'

  I could virtually sense the confusion in her voice, so I explained everything.

  I could tell she was shaking her head. 'Oh dear. Oh dear,' she said. 'It’s money. It’s the root of all evil. It really is.'

  'Mum, that doesn’t really help,' I said trying not to laugh. She always had been a bit dramatic.

  'What does your dad think of all this?' she asked, genuine concern creeping, unintentionally, into her voice.

  'Errrrm.....'

  'You still haven’t told him, have you?'

  It was like she was clairvoyant or something.

  'You’re worried what he’ll think about Sam, aren’t you?' as if she knew I was nodding, she continued, 'Kate, sweetheart, you’re not Sam’s daughter. You’re Bob’s daughter. Sam left you everything because he loved me so much. He knew I didn’t want anything and you were the closest thing to me. It was the most beautiful gift from a beautiful man. You need to enjoy it. But Bob has the right to know that his daughter has become a millionaire. Have you thought about donating anything to him and his other daughters?'

  'It has crossed my mind. I was thinking more about a trust fund for the girls for when they’re older?' I said.

  'Sweetheart, that’s a lovely idea and I think your dad will be really chuffed with that. Honestly, though, I think he will be chuffed for you. Sam was a very long time ago. Your dad’s moved on. I’ve moved on. You’ve moved on. Tell him. You’ll be surprised by his reaction, I’m sure. When you do speak to him, give him my best wishes,' she waited a second, hearing my gasp.

  'Like I said, Katie, I’ve moved on as well.'

  'How’s Nick and life in Africa?' I asked.

  'Wonderful. Absolutely wonderful. You should come and see us, you know. I bet you'd fall in love with the place and its people. It’s fabulous. You did promise m
e you'd come soon.'

  'One of these days, Mum, I promise I’ll come and visit. Although I’m not sure about all those bugs and stuff over there,' I answered honestly. 'But when are you going to come and visit me, Mum?' I asked, smirking.

  'I think you know the answer to that, sweetheart. Africa is our home now. We don’t really want anything to do with England anymore.' I knew that’s what she would say.

  'Well, I have another idea. Why don’t you come and visit me in the Azores? That place out there is incredible. I’ll pay for your flights. I’d love to see you, Mum.'

  For a moment, she was silent, chewing it over in her mind.

  'At some point I need to go and check out the apartments in New York and Toronto – I could meet you there instead?' I asked, hoping that she would say yes to at least something.

  'It's a lovely idea, sweetheart but I'll have to decline. You know how I feel about the western world. I’d love to see you though. But for now, I need to get back. I’ll speak to you soon. Don’t worry about the magazine thing. Something will happen in the news and then your story won’t be as interesting to them. Just give it a bit of time and it’ll die down. And don’t forget to talk to your dad. I love you, Katie.'

  'I love you too, Mum. Bye. Love to Nick, too. Bye.'

  I flopped back down on the sofa, thinking about what Mum had said. She was right about the news. There obviously wasn’t anything major happening at the moment, which was why everyone was trying to find out ‘Who’s That Girl’. I laughed to myself, thinking about how ridiculous this whole thing had become. It would die down. It would just take time.

  I thought about ringing Dad but decided against it. Maybe it would be better to just go to his house and talk to him? Yes, that’s what I would do. I’d give it a few days and do that.

  Since the magazine article had been published, Julianne had insisted I take a break from the office, at least until things, hopefully, quietened down a bit. She told me if I wanted to work, I should do it from home, so I hopped up and went and made myself a cup of tea and grabbed my laptop. Before starting work on my latest column, I checked my emails but there was nothing of great interest, except a short email from Mini confirming my little pink and cream car should be ready for delivery in about another three months. It seemed like ages. I sighed, wishing I could speed it up. Patience was all I needed.