Getting Lost Read online

  “Okay, but you’re shivering. Can you at least come to bed?”

  “In a moment. I really want to discuss the three days when you went missing.” Stella longed to fall into bed next to Phoebe. She longed to be held safe in her arms, but most of all, she longed for a good reason, a very good reason, why Phoebe had disappeared.

  “That’s certainly fair. You’d better shut the door.”

  Stella closed the door but remained only inches inside the threshold. “So, where were you?”

  “I have a good reason for leaving Corfu.”

  “I hope you have a good reason for not uttering a word to me.” Stella choked back tears, and she began to sway.

  Phoebe jumped up, quick enough to catch Stella before falling. “I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you about it, but I thought the note explained I had something important to do.”

  “Note? What note?”

  “I left you a note on the ferry. You didn’t think I’d just leave for days and not tell you?”

  Stella remained silent.

  “Stella? I would never leave you to worry like that. You have to believe me.”

  “What about the messages I left? Didn’t I sound frantic enough?”

  “I thought you sounded annoyed because I’d left a note instead of talking to you. It never once occurred to me that you’d thought I’d just disappeared.”

  Stella hadn’t seen any note. She had been rushing to the group to organise disembarking the ferry. She simply grabbed her bag and rushed out the door. “I didn’t see a note. I was worried sick. I called the police. I tried to find you.”

  Phoebe knelt before Stella. “I’m sorry you thought I’d just left you. I can only imagine how terrible that must have made you feel.” She touched her face. “And on top of all this.”

  “I think Simon did this. Well, if not Simon, someone he sent to do his dirty work.”

  “Tell me what happened?”

  “No, you first. Please tell me, where did you go?” Stella was desperate to piece it all together.

  Phoebe kissed her forehead. “I’ll show you.” Phoebe removed a paper bag from her suitcase. Inside the bag was a box, similar in size to a jewellery box. It appeared to be made from strong cardboard. Also inside the paper bag, wrapped in protective plastic, was a postcard. Phoebe read aloud.

  Dearest Phoebe,

  I have deviated from my holiday to visit the island of Santorini. It is the most wonderful place. The rest of the world doesn’t exist here, just me and the sunset. Oh, and the smelly donkeys, too.

  When I return, I promise to bring you here. Just you and me. My father will go mad not knowing where I am, and he’ll never find us here. Santorini is heaven on earth. I will buy us a villa and we’ll live here until we are old and grey. I miss you.

  All my love,

  Bec

  XX

  “Rebecca’s ashes were in this box. I’ve kept them for such a long time. I wasn’t sure if I could let her go.” Phoebe gently rewrapped the box and card and returned it to the case.

  “I’m sorry. That must have been difficult for you.”

  “It was. But it felt like the right time. It’s probably been the right time for a while now, but Santorini seemed like the best place for her to finally be at rest, away from Australia, away from Simon and Oscar.”

  Phoebe touched Stella’s bruised face. “I’m so sorry this happened to you. It’s my fault.”

  “No, it’s not. But I don’t think it’s a coincidence, do you?”

  Phoebe shook her head. “Number three.”

  “My sentiments exactly,” agreed Stella. “This was no random attack.”

  “Simon?”

  “Who else?”

  “We have to stop seeing each other.” The statement was so out of the blue, Stella barely registered it. Phoebe continued. “I’m putting you in danger and I won’t have that.”

  Stella snapped her eyes wide. “Hang on a minute, that’s a ridiculous idea and completely too late. We’re in this together now. The damage has already been done.” She was beginning to lose control. “Don’t you dare tell me we can’t be together, not now and not ever. Do you hear me?” Stella closed her eyes to hide the tears.

  Phoebe took her hand and led her to bed, pulling Stella under the covers and adjusting their embrace until Stella was comfortable. “I’m sorry. It was a dumb idea. I won’t mention it again.”

  Stella shook off the unimaginable thought.

  “You have to understand though, that if either Simon or Oscar knows about my rendezvous in Switzerland to see Sebastian…” Phoebe couldn’t finish. “Well, I shudder to think of the consequences.”

  Stella knew what those consequences could be. “Phoebe, you can’t put yourself in danger like that. It’s suicidal. Do you really want to die?”

  “I didn’t have a preference either way until three weeks ago.”

  “What changed three weeks ago?”

  “I met you. I didn’t want to like you. I felt like I was betraying Rebecca. Especially given I’ve had her ashes in my suitcase the whole time. I hated myself for liking you at a time when I was preparing to say good-bye to her.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “On the day I was released, Oscar’s lawyer came to see me. He offered me a deal. Oscar would ensure my release, and I would sign my unborn child over to him. I was to remain under his care until Sebastian was born, a prisoner in Oscar’s house. I was ordered to have a caesarean section to avoid any complications during birth. Sebastian was taken from me immediately. I was permitted to hold him just the once.” Phoebe wiped away tears. “He paid me substantially, effectively buying my silence. He made it perfectly clear to me that my freedom, and indeed my life, was of little concern to him. He accepted, rather quickly, the loss of Rebecca. Sure, he could have waited until the child was born, taken him, and left me to rot in jail, but he wasn’t prepared to risk anything happening to his precious heir. Securing my release was a small price to pay for ensuring his grandson was delivered safely and in good health.”

  “So now you plan to see your son and risk your life?”

  “I have lived immersed in grief and loss for so long now. I need to see Sebastian. He is Rebecca’s flesh and blood, my flesh and blood, he came from my body and I need to see him. I don’t care what the consequences are. Well…” Phoebe said, smiling awkwardly. “I didn’t until now.”

  Stella tentatively snuggled closer to Phoebe, needing to feel the warmth of her body and the protection offered by her strong embrace.

  “Where’s Simon Threadbody supposed to be now?”

  “Oscar’s in Switzerland. I presume Simon is supposed to be there, too.”

  “Has he ever threatened you before now? Assuming it’s him that’s making our life a misery at the moment.”

  “Not directly. The threat is implied with men like him. I know how dangerous he is. There’s no need to threaten me. He knows that.”

  “A man was asking after you on the ferry to Corfu. He spoke to Russo. Russo remembered the conversation the day after, but other than to identify the man as middle-aged, he couldn’t pinpoint any features.” She shrugged. “You know Russo. He was probably somewhat preoccupied at the time.”

  Phoebe sighed and leaned back. “Simon.”

  “Would he do his own dirty work?”

  “I wouldn’t put it past him.”

  Something was troubling Stella. “Do you think he really would have raped me if Russo didn’t show up?”

  Phoebe pulled her closer. “I honestly don’t know. Simon is many things, but a rapist. I don’t know, Stella.”

  “You want to tell me about it?” Phoebe whispered gently. “About what happened that night?”

  “Not really.”

  “Please? I’d really like to know.”

  Stella succumbed to her emotions, and the need to share her story with the one person she was beginning to care about above all others. Sobbing, she recounted the events of Corfu.

  Phoeb
e gently kissed and comforted Stella.

  Stella simply cried and let it all out.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Venice to Vienna was a long but spectacular drive through the Dolomites. Even Russo enjoyed the change from chaotic Italian roads to the orderly and scenic Germanic countries. Vienna, the home of Mozart and Strauss, guaranteed the evening would be filled with schnitzel and classical music. Those not enjoying the local culture usually found themselves in the cheesy Australian bar where the only thing resembling Australia was the overpriced beer that no one dared drink back home.

  After the initial excitement of travelling into the beer guzzling countries, the coach noise lowered to near silence, many taking the opportunity to catch up on much needed sleep. Stella had confirmed activities and taken another call from Janet who seemed to be checking up on her with alarming regularity.

  Stella loathed the classical show everyone else seemed to love. She had seen it a hundred times or more, and after the second or third time, she simply couldn’t rouse any excitement. In fact, she often made excuses to leave halfway through or earlier. Regardless, on this particular evening she had been invited on a date.

  Two-thirds of the group attended the classical dinner and show, while the majority of the remainder, as expected, settled into the Aussie bar. Some had been there all afternoon.

  Stella’s only obligation was to deliver the group to the show, so upon commencement, she snuck to the back of the room before ducking out completely. Russo was staying on. Not for the show, but because he was back in favour with the Brazilian girls, and with the coach parked up for a day, he had grand plans for spending most of the evening in bed.

  In light of everything that had happened recently, Stella remained on edge. But troubling her was Phoebe’s proposed meeting with Sebastian and the danger that might put her in if Simon was indeed the cause of recent events. The world Phoebe had described, in which Oscar Dean was a man to be feared, was a world Stella couldn’t fully comprehend. Would Oscar or Simon harm, or indeed kill Phoebe if they ever found out she had schemed to meet her son? This might be a moot point regardless. Simon could be plotting to cause Phoebe harm irrespective of her plans. Was such action a slight possibility or a high probability? And would Phoebe’s feelings for Stella alter her actions?

  *

  Stella checked the address Phoebe had given her and waited as instructed under the Café Ruàne sign that flashed emerald green when open. Her smart black trousers and revealing shirt had gone unnoticed by the group; everyone had dressed up that evening. But now, fifteen minutes beyond the time Phoebe had said she would collect her, Stella was beginning to worry. Being tall, beautiful, and blond, Phoebe was easy enough to spot in a crowd, but Stella saw no sign of her. Then, slowly, as if in a funeral procession, a shiny black limousine pulled up. Stella expected Phoebe on foot and ignored the car until the driver opened the rear passenger door and ushered her in.

  “Stella, it’s me.” Phoebe leaned over reassuringly.

  Stella smiled and jumped in. “Thank goodness it’s you. After everything that’s gone on, I wasn’t ruling out abduction in an expensive limousine.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t think of that.” She smiled awkwardly. “We were caught in traffic and I forgot my phone.”

  “I was beginning to think you’d stood me up.” Stella relaxed until she noticed Phoebe’s stunning black dress. “I’m underdressed, aren’t I? You look amazing.”

  “You’re not underdressed at all. Don’t be silly. You look incredibly sexy. And anyway, it doesn’t matter what you’re wearing, as long as you enjoy yourself.”

  “So, where are we going?” Stella didn’t recognise the streets they were slowly weaving through.

  Phoebe reached for Stella’s hand, smiling broadly. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”

  “You do know where we’re going though, don’t you?”

  “What? Of course I do. Have a little faith.”

  Phoebe popped a bottle of champagne. “Drink, my dear?”

  Stella couldn’t refuse although the bubbly champagne did little to settle the nerves in her stomach. She couldn’t remember ever being invited on a date like this. She peered beyond the dark tinted windows, leaving Vienna behind and was thankful she had given up on the painkillers. She could tell they were heading northwest, or thereabouts, and within the hour, they arrived at the picturesque town of Krems.

  Dinner was in a private room at the exclusive Old Station Spa. Once a place of disrepute—among other things—the inn was now a lavish destination spa with a hefty price tag to match.

  Stella’s main course of duck had been delicious. The conversation had flowed easily, but now she found the courage to seek answers. “Would Oscar or Simon really hurt you if you saw Sebastian?”

  Phoebe inhaled deeply and steadied her hands, fingering the edge of her cloth napkin. “Two years ago, when I discovered what childcare facility Sebastian attended, I began watching the entrance gate morning and afternoon, trying to catch a glimpse of him. After a week or so watching, there was a knock on my front door, and the next thing I knew I was in hospital nursing a broken jaw, broken wrist, broken ribs, bruised kidneys, and a face that was black-and-blue. The same man who did this to me, visited again the day I returned home from hospital, suggesting if I ever attempted to see my son again, I’d be dead.”

  “I’m guessing he wasn’t joking.”

  “It was a pretty serious beating.”

  Stella hesitated. “I don’t mean to sound rude, but to hire a limousine to Krems and dine at this place isn’t exactly a cheap exercise. Oscar must have compensated you well.”

  “Back then, my death would have looked suspicious if he had indeed followed through with his threats. Too many questions would have been asked. His lesbian daughter is killed, so is her lover, and he becomes guardian of his heir. No, he couldn’t afford that much scandal, but he could afford to buy my son and my silence. I’ve not touched a cent Oscar gave me. Rebecca had money in all sorts of places that Oscar didn’t know about. Lots of money. I live more than comfortably off that.”

  The real prospect of losing Phoebe before their relationship even had the chance to begin, gripped Stella. “This is insane. What if Oscar finds out? Will he, you know? Hurt you? And what about all this stuff with Simon?” Stella’s mind was struggling to keep up.

  Phoebe reached across the crisp, white linen tablecloth, stroking Stella’s hand. “Well, I’m not intending to interrupt them at breakfast and ask to speak to Sebastian. I have been planning this for some time now. I’ve no intention of getting caught, but I have to be willing to suffer the consequences if it goes wrong.”

  “And you’re willing to suffer the ultimate sacrifice?”

  “You make it sound so dramatic. It may not come to that.”

  “Damn it, Phoebe, it is dramatic! It’s insane.” Stella hadn’t planned to become an emotional wreck, but watching the woman she was falling in love with talk about her own life with such disregard was painful. “Don’t you think it would have been safer to see Sebastian back in Australia? Over here, you’ll just be another murdered tourist. Back home, you’ll be Phoebe Lancaster, the murdered girlfriend of Rebecca Dean. Surely Oscar wouldn’t kill you there?”

  Phoebe smiled. “Back home, Oscar has eyes and ears everywhere. I could never execute this in Australia. Over here, he has less security, and his mind is consumed with dodgy business deals. My contact, Sebastian’s nanny, has a responsibility to ensure he is looked after, educated, and has a good time. I can handle this.”

  Stella sighed, exasperated. “So, it’s simply a meeting, an hour or so?” She knew she was only convincing herself.

  “Correct.”

  Stella shook her head. It wasn’t adding up. “What you’re telling me is that you’ll meet with Sebastian for an hour or so and then that’s it? You’ll just walk away?”

  “On this occasion, yes.” Phoebe held back tears.

  “What about long-term?” Stella sque
ezed her hand, but she needed to know how this would pan out.

  “Long-term I need to find a way to convince Oscar that I didn’t kill Rebecca. I need to convince him that Simon did. Showing him I’m not a murdering monster is the next step.”

  “And you are hoping that eventually Oscar will let you have access to him, or even some custody?”

  “Something like that.”

  Stella waited, she sensed more was coming.

  “I’ve seen lawyers about this, good lawyers. The contract I signed is watertight, and the fact that I signed it under duress is his word against mine. I could just have easily been saving my own skin with that deal. It’s ambiguous either way you look at it.”

  “And this so-called friend of yours, would she double-cross you?”

  “I hope not.”

  “You hope not? Jesus, Phoebe, is hope enough? This could be a matter of life and death.”

  Phoebe forced a smile and dabbed the napkin to her eyes. “Please try and remain calm, and keep your voice down.”

  Stella felt the tension drain from her shoulders, and she sucked in a deep breath before gulping the remaining champagne. Nothing more could be said until the waiter, who had appeared out of nowhere, refilled her empty flute.

  “So, what’s the plan for the meeting?” Stella asked the moment they were alone.

  “The plan is well thought out and can be aborted at any time. I have inbuilt strategies for reassessment and recalculation. If anything goes terribly wrong, I’m hoping I have an out.”

  “Excellent. But what, where, when, and how?”

  “You don’t need to know that.” Phoebe rang the little china bell, summoning the waiter again.

  “What?”

  Phoebe raised her hand, signalling for Stella’s silence, as she handed over her credit card. “I’ll rephrase. It’s not that you don’t need to know. It’s more that I don’t want you to know. Keeping you in the dark is the only way I know to protect you. I’ve already put you in danger by informing you of my intentions.”

  “More danger than Corfu?”