playpen. She started making noises,
letting us know not to forget her in her little prison.
“It’s right there on the dining table. I
think I’ll join you. Don’t worry about her, she’ll be fine.”
We sat at the table and enjoyed a fresh
salad made of local greens, olives, fresh tomatoes, and cucumbers. With a plate
of cheese, some fresh bread, and a bottle of wine, it was all we required.
“This is great,” Amadeus stated as he
filled his mouth with a huge piece of cheese. “Did I see a couple of apples
somewhere?”
“Yes,” I replied, picking up a red apple
out of a bowl on the table and throwing it in his direction. “When was the last
time you ate, babe?”
“Hmmm, including what was on the plane?
Seattle.”
“I can ring Mary and get her to bring
you something else if you’d like.”
He shook his head as he sliced the apple
with a knife and popped the piece into his mouth. “No, I’m fine. I want this
afternoon to be just the three of us.”
“Okay. We could go for a walk if you’d
like. As long as she has sun screen and a hat on we’ll be fine.”
“Perhaps in a while. You know we only
have five days here, Zara, before we have to head back. Not the ten like we
wanted. We should sit down this evening and plan out our remaining days.”
“Back to the mess. You will tell me what’s
going on and what I’m facing, won’t you?”
“Yeah, but later. For now, all I want to
do is chill with my two most favorite ladies.”
We spent the afternoon lazily and close
to the cottage. Amadeus was exhausted, and I laughed when I found him and
Elizabeth fast asleep in the middle of the afternoon in the middle of the
living room floor. I grabbed my ever present camera off the table and snapped a
few pictures.
While they were snoozing, I fired up my
laptop and got onto the internet. I shot an email off to Peter, letting him
know Amadeus had arrived safely and also asking just how bad things were. Then
I sat back and began pulling up web pages of media sites known for having an
affection towards Amadeus. It seemed the story of Angus becoming ill on the
tour stuck. There was mention of Angus staying out on the island where Damien
lived to recoup. Then on one site I did find a paragraph in a write-up about
the boys’ tour. It questioned where Julia was, how rumor had it she’d
disappeared, leaving the band high and dry. It went on to the dramatics.
Satisfied that things were, at least for
the time being, status quo, I fired off another email. This time to my contact
at Peter’s media conglomerate who I knew would be handling the rescheduling of
the tour dates. I let them know I was back on board, though still technically
hard to reach, and to get me up to speed on the reschedules and anything else
pertinent. I hit send and sat back.
Later that evening, after a long,
leisurely walk on the beach after dinner, and the baby was down for the night,
Amadeus and I sat down and talked. He began to explain to me everything from
the moment Red found Julia and Don gone. I sat across from him, listening
intently, silently making mental notes. Julia and Don had planned this for a
long time, any idiot could see that. Money and an attempt to ruin not only
Damien, but Angus and Amadeus as well, were the obvious motives.
A nagging thought kept pushing its way
back…and it was a terrifying one. Had Julia and Don been responsible for
Amadeus’s illness a while back? Don had long been suspected. It was at his
house where Amadeus first became sick. Were they in on the whole thing? Had
they meant to do fatal harm to Amadeus, thus bringing down Tudor Rose? They
succeeded in that part at least, the part about Tudor Rose. If they had…and I
couldn’t bear the thought of the outcome if they had, but if they had succeeded
in doing away with Amadeus, what then? Would Julia have forced Damien back into
the spotlight harder and quicker than what she had?
“Zara? Where are you, babe? Have you
heard a word I’ve been
letting us know not to forget her in her little prison.
“It’s right there on the dining table. I
think I’ll join you. Don’t worry about her, she’ll be fine.”
We sat at the table and enjoyed a fresh
salad made of local greens, olives, fresh tomatoes, and cucumbers. With a plate
of cheese, some fresh bread, and a bottle of wine, it was all we required.
“This is great,” Amadeus stated as he
filled his mouth with a huge piece of cheese. “Did I see a couple of apples
somewhere?”
“Yes,” I replied, picking up a red apple
out of a bowl on the table and throwing it in his direction. “When was the last
time you ate, babe?”
“Hmmm, including what was on the plane?
Seattle.”
“I can ring Mary and get her to bring
you something else if you’d like.”
He shook his head as he sliced the apple
with a knife and popped the piece into his mouth. “No, I’m fine. I want this
afternoon to be just the three of us.”
“Okay. We could go for a walk if you’d
like. As long as she has sun screen and a hat on we’ll be fine.”
“Perhaps in a while. You know we only
have five days here, Zara, before we have to head back. Not the ten like we
wanted. We should sit down this evening and plan out our remaining days.”
“Back to the mess. You will tell me what’s
going on and what I’m facing, won’t you?”
“Yeah, but later. For now, all I want to
do is chill with my two most favorite ladies.”
We spent the afternoon lazily and close
to the cottage. Amadeus was exhausted, and I laughed when I found him and
Elizabeth fast asleep in the middle of the afternoon in the middle of the
living room floor. I grabbed my ever present camera off the table and snapped a
few pictures.
While they were snoozing, I fired up my
laptop and got onto the internet. I shot an email off to Peter, letting him
know Amadeus had arrived safely and also asking just how bad things were. Then
I sat back and began pulling up web pages of media sites known for having an
affection towards Amadeus. It seemed the story of Angus becoming ill on the
tour stuck. There was mention of Angus staying out on the island where Damien
lived to recoup. Then on one site I did find a paragraph in a write-up about
the boys’ tour. It questioned where Julia was, how rumor had it she’d
disappeared, leaving the band high and dry. It went on to the dramatics.
Satisfied that things were, at least for
the time being, status quo, I fired off another email. This time to my contact
at Peter’s media conglomerate who I knew would be handling the rescheduling of
the tour dates. I let them know I was back on board, though still technically
hard to reach, and to get me up to speed on the reschedules and anything else
pertinent. I hit send and sat back.
Later that evening, after a long,
leisurely walk on the beach after dinner, and the baby was down for the night,
Amadeus and I sat down and talked. He began to explain to me everything from
the moment Red found Julia and Don gone. I sat across from him, listening
intently, silently making mental notes. Julia and Don had planned this for a
long time, any idiot could see that. Money and an attempt to ruin not only
Damien, but Angus and Amadeus as well, were the obvious motives.
A nagging thought kept pushing its way
back…and it was a terrifying one. Had Julia and Don been responsible for
Amadeus’s illness a while back? Don had long been suspected. It was at his
house where Amadeus first became sick. Were they in on the whole thing? Had
they meant to do fatal harm to Amadeus, thus bringing down Tudor Rose? They
succeeded in that part at least, the part about Tudor Rose. If they had…and I
couldn’t bear the thought of the outcome if they had, but if they had succeeded
in doing away with Amadeus, what then? Would Julia have forced Damien back into
the spotlight harder and quicker than what she had?
“Zara? Where are you, babe? Have you
heard a word I’ve been
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