He watched as a tall, slender woman with a blaze of long red hair climbed out of a luxury vehicle. She was laughing and chatting as she helped a heavily pregnant woman get out. Nikolai recognised the pregnant woman as Libby, Daniil’s wife, from a news article he had read during the times he had looked up his friends.
So Daniil must be here also.
The two women walked up the steps and went into the church and Nikolai could hear the bells ringing out as others started to head inside.
‘Two more minutes,’ he said again to the driver.
It was proving every bit as hard as he had guessed it would be to face his past.
Sev had enquired as to the reason for Nikolai’s tears on the night he had run away. Nikolai had not been able to answer the question then and he was nowhere near ready to answer it now. He did not want to see the discomfort in anybody’s eyes as he revealed the sordid past.
He climbed out of the cab and walked to the church, and just as the bride’s car came into view he slipped into the church.
Hopefully unseen.
Yuri, were he alive, might say he was hiding and that he should face things in his usual bold way, but on this occasion Nikolai did not want to ponder sage advice—he would take his own.
There was no need to discuss his past.
No need to re-invite shame.
‘RACHEL, I JUST don’t understand.’
Libby was clearly perplexed by Rachel’s shocking news that, after a long tour of Australasia, she had left the dance company. The two women had, until recently, not only danced with the same company but had also been flatmates. Last year, just before she had met her now husband, Daniil, Libby herself had retired.
In truth, Libby had been pushed into the decision and Rachel could well remember her friend’s struggle to let go of the career she loved so. They had discussed it over and over.
Rachel had made up her mind by herself.
They were friends but very different. Libby wore her heart on her sleeve, whereas Rachel kept hers not just buried in a deep vault but one where the key had been thrown away and wet concrete poured over it.
She let no one in.
Oh, she chatted, but it was mainly about the other person, and she flirted and dated but it was always on her terms.
Always.
They were in Rachel’s vast suite at a luxury hotel, getting ready to attend a very prominent London wedding. Rachel had never actually met the happy couple, she was there more to support Libby as Daniil was the best man and Libby was one week away from her due date.
Because Daniil owned the hotel, Rachel had been given an amazing suite. Anxious about sharing her news while determined to be upbeat for her friend today, Rachel had taken a long fragrant bath, with heated curlers in. It had done nothing to quell the nerves that lived permanently in her chest.
Rachel was always anxious, even if she hid it well, but now it felt as if everything was coming to a head.
The bath hadn’t worked its magic and she had already been running late when Libby had arrived. Preparations had further stalled when Rachel had, oh, so casually dropped the news that she would not be returning to the dance company,
‘But what will you do?’ Libby asked.
‘I’m not sure yet,’ Rachel admitted as she started to pull the jumbo heated rollers out of her long red hair. ‘I intend to work it out over a lot of long lazy evenings and morning lie-ins!’
‘I don’t get how you can have left without having made any plans. I thought you were happy...’
‘I was happy. I still am,’ Rachel said, and then she promptly changed the subject by going into her overnight bag and pulling out a burnt-orange velvet dress. ‘What do you think?’
‘It’s very...’ Libby’s voice trailed off as Rachel squeezed herself into her very tight dress, but as she slithered it down past her thighs she frowned as she looked over and saw the pained expression on Libby’s face.
‘You cannot go into labour today,’ Rachel warned.
‘I know I can’t,’ Libby said. ‘I keep telling myself that. I just don’t think the baby is listening.’
‘Do you think you might have it?’
‘I think I might,’ Libby admitted.
‘Oh, my!’ Rachel grinned her toothy grin. ‘How exciting.’
‘How not!’ Libby sighed. ‘This wedding is so important for Daniil, Sev is like family to him. Sev is his family.’
‘I’m sure you’ll be fine,’ Rachel said with all the authority of someone who watched an awful lot of medical dramas ‘First ones take ages and ages, and anyway your waters haven’t popped. Imagine if they do in the church!’
‘You’re such a comfort, Rachel,’ Libby said, but she did smile. ‘Come on, do your make-up, we have to go.’
‘I’ll do it in the taxi...’ Rachel said, and then remembered how rich Libby was and that this wasn’t the old days. Daniil’s driver would take them to the church! She pulled on very high stilettos, in the same burnt-orange velvet as her dress, and they took the elevator down and then out to where the driver waited. Once seated in the plush car Rachel opened up her large bag and, very used to doing her make-up in less luxurious surroundings, she set to work on her face.
‘You’re ever so pale,’ Libby commented, and then remembered. ‘We didn’t have lunch!’
They had been too busy talking!
‘I didn’t have breakfast either,’ Rachel said, and took a chocolate éclair sweet out from the bottom of her bag and carried on doing her make-up. Off came the freckles, thanks to an amazing foundation she had newly discovered. Her reddish-blonde eyelashes were soon a long silky black that brought out the green of her eyes. She added some rouge and then a good dash of coral lipstick and then peered in the hand mirror at her slightly protruding teeth that had a gap in the middle. ‘I’m thinking of getting braces.’
‘Why?’
‘I just am. Come on, you need to bring me up to speed, I’ve lost track of all these Russians.’ Rachel snapped her fingers for information as she teased out the curls in her hair. ‘The groom is Sev, Daniil’s friend from the orphanage?’
‘Yes,’ Libby said. ‘Though it might be kinder not to refer to him as that.’
‘I can be tactful!’
‘Sometimes you can be.’ Libby smiled.
‘Tell me about the bride.’
‘Her
