I remembered the photograph. It wouldn’t have taken an Oxford Don to realise that Sandi and Alexander were one and the same.
“Why don’t you sell all the properties abroad?” I asked.
“What for? I’d still need a good few million on top. No, Frankie wants me dead, but he’s hoping to have the cash as well.”
I looked pained.
“Are you okay love?”
“No, I’m fucking not. I’m in pain, I feel like shit, my world has been turned upside down, and my Dad is a bloody crook. I am going to lose him, and I have only just got to know him,” I said, and the tears started again.
He came and sat down on the bed next to me.
“I’m so sorry, he said. Actually looking and sounding as if he meant it.”
“Being sorry doesn’t make it better,” I said, and he looked miserable.
“Look Dad, Mum had a go at you, and you didn’t bloody listen, and you lost her. But I lost her too, and that bloody hurts. Now you say you’re sorry again, well so what? Unless you change, you’ll lose me too.”
“I will, as soon as I square off Frankie.”
“Dad, there will always be a Frankie. Who are you trying to kid?”
“Honest, this is the last one.”
“How often did you say that to Mum?”
He went quiet and looked down.
“Too bloody often.”
I stared at him.
He smiled. “You’re so like your Mum, it hurts me to look at you.”
“I don’t want you to die Dad, as you’re all I have left.”
Tears came to his eyes.
“I love you so much,” he said.
“Yeah,” I said, the sarcasm creeping into my voice.
“Sandi, I do. Really.”
“I love you too Dad, but you have to stop.”
“I will, I promise.”
“Now Dad.”
“I can’t. I have to sort things out.”
Tears fell from my eyes, and he reached out and stroked my cheeks.
“Hey. I’ll call you on your mobile. You still have it don’t you?”
I nodded.
“I’d better go. I’m glad you’re on the mend, and I hope this blows over. I want to see you grow up.”
“Duh. Dad, I am grown up.”
“Then I’d like to see my grandchildren.”
I cried some more.
He kissed me and left as silently as he had come. I turned my face to the pillow and wept.
I was determined to get out of hospital as soon as possible, so on the 20th July, after five days, they discharged me. I continued my dilation exercises religiously, and after a couple of weeks I was delighted when number five (the big one.) slipped up without any pain or blockage.
Dave had gone to the States with Mike for a grand tour, and so Jenny and I were working in the busy hotel, and flirting with any juicy blokes we could find.
Mr Rogerson had completed a certified note so I was legally female, and therefore entitled to have my birth certificate changed to read ‘female’. I made sure everything else was changed as well. I applied for my passport as Alexandra Lake, so was pleased as punch when it arrived.
I went back for a check up on the 1st August, and Mr Rogerson declared himself delighted with my progress. I was very happy to hand back the dilators that I had ‘borrowed’.
“Have you bled yet?”
I shook my head.
“Any sore tummies?”
I frowned. “What kind?” I asked.
He gently placed his hands on my abdomen, either side of my navel, and slightly above.
“Yeah, slightly, a couple of days ago. I thought it was my tummy muscles after playing tennis.”
“That, my girl, was you ovulating. Expect a visitor in a little while.”
“Oh.”
“And, what contraception method are you planning?”
I stared at him blankly, so he smiled.
“I thought so. The tests on your ovaries show you’re fertile, so unless you’re careful, you will be a mummy.”
“Oh.”
“You’re almost completely healed now, but to be safe I’d leave it for another month at least. If you see your GP, then it takes a month for the pill to kick in. I’ve written a letter to her, so she knows which one would be best for you.”
“Oh,” I repeated.
“I met your boyfriend, is he still around?”
“He’s in the States, it’s his gap-year.”
“Oh,” he said, and I laughed.
“How are things between you?”
“I’ll have to wait for him to come back.”
“How long is he away?”
“Too long; three months.”
“Oh, do you miss him?”
“Silly question,” I said, smiling.
“Well, be careful. You’re still fragile, so you don’t want to rupture anything at this stage.”
“I will be. I’m not desperate to lose my virginity. It’s something that I can lose only once, so I want it to be special and with someone I really love.”
“Sensible girl. Well, I’m done with you for the time being. If you have any problems down there, then call my secretary. Otherwise, I’m sure that Dr Shepherd will be able to cope.”
“Thanks so much,” I said.
He stood up, so I shook his hand. He kissed me on both cheeks.
“I’m sure I’ll see you in the papers and on TV soon. Beauty like yours can never be hidden for long.”
I blushed and said goodbye.
7.
Jenny and I planned to take a two-week break in August, and wanted to go camping in the south of France. Scott Collins was not keen on the idea, so we elected to go to Newquay instead. I popped home to get some clothes and check the mail. I was just locking up, when I was grabbed from behind by some powerful, and very unfriendly arms.
I had a sack pulled over my head, and then the unseen person carried and dumped me into the boot of a waiting car. The car took off at speed, while I struggled to get the hood off. Once I succeeded, I was in darkness. I could hear muffled voices in the car, and felt around for anything to use to get the boot open. I had on a mini skirt and a tee shirt, and my high heels were useless for running.
I found that I was lying on the spare wheel cover board, so the jack and wheel brace must be underneath, but I couldn’t get my hand under the cover to reach anything.
I managed to lie on my back, and put my knees against the boot lid, but with all my strength, I couldn’t budge it. I hoped and prayed that the police had followed, and had seen my abduction.
The car was moving steadily, not too fast to attract the attention of traffic patrols. I tried to work out in which direction we were headed, but I had lost my sense of direction completely.
Eventually, and thankfully, the car came to a halt, as I was feeling sick.
The boot lid popped open and light streamed in.
“Come on, out,” said a male voice.
A very large black man lifted me out of the boot. My shoes were still in the boot.
“Not one fucking squeak, alright darling?” he said, in a very deep London accent. There were two other men there. Before I could get a good look round, the hood was back on.
With bare feet, I was half-dragged and half-carried across a tarmac surface, and then up a metal staircase, similar to our fire escape at school. He pushed me through an open door and dragged me across a carpeted floor and through another door. Then I was literally thrown onto the floor, and I heard something hit the floor beside me, I assumed they were my shoes
The hood was removed, and I saw the back view of the black man as he walked out and shut the door.
I looked around me. It was little more than a cupboard. 6’ x 8’ at the most, and apart from a rather tired carpet, it was empty - no windows and only one door.
I grabbed my shoes and stood up. There wasn’t even a light switch, and the single un-shaded bulb hung from its cord from the ceiling. It wasn’t on, and what little light there was came from under the door.