Free THE FINAL FALSON SAYS I DO by Lucy Gordon Page B

full attention, laughing at something she said, meeting her eyes.
    When the introductions were finished Larry led Freya to a chair and pulled it out.
    ‘Sit next to me,’ he said. ‘I want to know all about Jackson.’
    ‘Surely you know plenty about him by now?’ she said.
    ‘Only the trivial things. But every time we argue he wins. That’s got to stop. I want you to tell me about his weaknesses, so that I’ll have him at a disadvantage instead of the other way around.’
    He spoke in a loud voice, inviting everyone to share the joke.
    Jackson grinned. ‘He’s been trying to catch me on the hop since the day we met,’ he announced. ‘No success so far.’
    ‘But I can live in hope,’ Larry declared. ‘If this charming lady will be my co-conspirator?’
    ‘Nothing would give me more pleasure,’ Freya assured him. ‘I could always tell you about the time three years ago when— Well, let’s leave that until later.’
    The mention of three years ago was a message to Jackson. This was a jokey conversation in which the recent past played no part. Tonight was simply for pleasure. His nod told her that he understood and agreed.
    Larry was an entertaining companion, with a gift for telling anecdotes. One in particular reduced her to such a fit of laughter that everyone else at the table stared.
    ‘I’m sorry,’ she choked, bringing herself under control. ‘It’s the way you tell the story—were you ever an actor, by any chance?’
    ‘Yes, I was,’ he said. ‘I started as an actor and gave it up to become a director. And you saw through me. Boy, you’re really clever!’ He took both her hands in his, gazing deeply into her eyes. ‘Some time soon we must get together and you must tell me all about yourself.’
    She wasn’t fooled. This wasn’t real flirting but a bit of harmless fun. And he expected her to understand it that way. His teasing glint made that clear. She had no problem in chuckling and saying with mock fervour, ‘I can’t wait.’
    There was a cheer from the rest of the table, and cries of, ‘Watch out for him, Freya. He’s a dodgy character.’
    ‘Well, I can see that,’ she said. ‘There’s the fun.’
    Tommy raised his glass, declaring, ‘ I’m a dodgy character too. Don’t forget me.’
    ‘You’ll have to wait,’ she said. ‘I only have time for one dodgy character at a time.’
    The evening was a big success. Freya would gladly have stayed later, but she could see Amos trying to suppress a yawn and not succeeding. When Janine squeezed his hand he rose to follow her without protest.
    ‘I’ll come with you,’ Freya said. ‘Goodnight, everyone.’
    ‘Goodnight,’ Jackson said. ‘Sleep well. We’ve got a heavy day tomorrow.’
    Debra, sitting beside him, giggled and clutched his arm. Freya turned quickly away.
    Upstairs, she and Janine worked at making Amos comfortable, to which he responded with the comment, ‘Stop fussing, you two. I’m all right.’
    ‘Of course you are,’ Freya said. ‘I’ll see you in the morning.’
    She kissed her mother and departed. Now she badly wanted to be alone and it was a relief to escape to her room. Once inside she didn’t put on the light, but opened the glass door onto the balcony and went out into the night air.
    A soft light still gleamed on the pyramids, making them glow faintly. Entranced, she stood watching, enjoying the feeling that she was witnessing a mystery that stretched back centuries. It was a sweet, magical feeling that seemed to take her back to another time, when the world itself had seemed imbued by magic.
    But what folly that had been. And how quickly, how brutally it had ended.
    She was swept by a strange mood; deep inside her there was a kind of anguish—not for Dan himself, but for what he had seemed to represent: hope, wonder, a belief that life could be beautiful.
    For a while after the disaster of her wedding she’d been able to continue believing. Jackson had reached out to her, and while she’d