More Precious than a Crown Read online

  Just a nice natural disaster where no one got hurt and one where it could be explained in the speeches that, though Trinity had done everything she possibly could to get there...

  Boarding.

  Trinity watched as the sign flicked over and dragged herself to the back of the line. Even as she took her seat on the aircraft she was hoping for a black miracle.

  A flock of seagulls perhaps?

  Yes, an aborted take-off seemed preferable to facing her family, or rather her aunt and her husband.

  When Donald had called Trinity to tell her that he was marrying Yvette, though she had given her congratulations and said that, of course, she’d be thrilled to be there, inside her stomach had churned.

  On concluding the call, Trinity had actually dashed to the toilet to be sick.

  She felt sick now.

  A harried mother and baby took the seat next to her.

  Why, oh, why, hadn’t she used the money her father had given her to buy a business-class seat, Trinity thought as the baby told her with his big blue eyes that he was going to do everything in his power to scream all the way to Heathrow.

  The take-off was impeccable, not a seagull to be found!

  Then the captain came on and said that he would do his level best to make up lost time.

  Trinity wished she could do the same—that she could push a few buttons and ride a tail wind if it meant that she could erase lost years. An ancient art history degree that she’d somehow obtained, as she’d struggled merely to operate, lay unused. Clubs, bars, dancing had been but a temporary escape from her pain and grief. California healing had beckoned, but neither reiki, nor chakra cleansing, nor the roar of the vast Pacific could replace what had been lost.

  Her latest attempt to cure her repulsion to anything that hinted on sexual had been positive-reinforcement-based training.

  Ha-ha.

  Two thousand dollars later and several pounds heavier, Trinity had decided that no amount of chocolate or affirmations were going to cure her particular problem.

  She loved herself?

  Most of the time, yes.

  She’d just prefer not to be touched.

  The meals were served and Trinity just picked at hers and refused wine. Despite what the newspapers said, she really only drank at family things.

  Which it soon would be.

  No.

  As the cabin lights were dimmed Trinity tried to doze but Harry, as it turned out the baby was called, had decided now that he liked her. He kept patting her cheeks with his little fat hands.

  ‘Sorry,’ his mum kept saying.

  ‘It’s not a problem.’

  Trinity tried to doze some more.

  It didn’t work.

  The only consolation to attending the wedding was that she had just found out that, though at first he had declined, Zahid was going to be the best man.

  She hadn’t seen him since that night ten years ago and Trinity wondered what he would be like now, if he even remembered that kiss in the woods.

  If he’d ever given her a thought since then.

  Trinity closed her eyes and briefly returned to the rapture of being in his arms and the bliss of his kiss, but her eyes suddenly snapped open for she could not even escape to the sanctuary of them without recalling what had happened later that night and in the months that had followed.

  There was so much adrenaline in her legs that Trinity tried walking around the sleepy cabin, dreading what she must face later today. How she’d hoped her mother would tell her that Clive and Elaine hadn’t been invited, how she wished her father, or even her brother, would step in.

  No one ever had.

  Skeletons belonged in the closet. Dirty laundry belonged in a basket.

  Clive was more prominent than her father.

  Nothing could be gained by speaking out. It was easier to simply smile for the cameras.

  It wasn’t, though.

  All too soon the scent of breakfast came from the galley and, opening the shutter, she saw dawn.

  The wedding day was here.

  Trinity returned to her seat, where Harry was shrieking. ‘Would you mind?’ his mum asked. ‘I have to go to the restroom.’

  ‘Of course.’

  Trinity held Harry, who stood on her thighs with his knees buckling as he screamed and screamed. ‘Go, Harry!’ Trinity smiled. Wouldn’t it be lovely to be as uninhibited as Harry, to simply scream out your pain and not care a jot what others thought?

  She didn’t get to hold babies much. All her family was in the UK and none of her friends in LA had babies yet.

  The sting of tears in her own eyes was terribly unwelcome and Trinity swallowed them back, telling herself she was being ridiculous. There was no comparison, Trinity told herself as she looked at Harry.

  He was all big and chunky and wriggling.

  Whereas she had been so tiny and so very still.

  The sob that escaped Trinity’s lips came from somewhere so deep and buried that even Harry stopped his tirade.

  ‘It’s okay.’ Trinity fought to quickly compose herself and smiled into his curious eyes as he patted her cheek. ‘I’m fine.’

  Trinity had no choice but to be fine.

  She just missed her baby so.

  Ached for the time that her daughter had never had.

  ‘Thanks so much.’ Harry’s mum was back and Trinity handed him to her but the bubble of panic was rising inside her and Trinity truly did not know if she could get through today.

  She pressed her bell.

  ‘Breakfast won’t be a moment.’ The steward smiled.

  ‘I’d like a bourbon, please,’ Trinity said. ‘A large one.’

  A few minutes later the steward returned with two tiny bottles of bourbon and a pussycat smile that told Trinity she was a lush.

  Trinity didn’t care.

  At least it calmed her enough to get off the plane.

  * * *

  ‘Where the hell is Trinity?’ Donald demanded, as he clicked off his phone. ‘Yvette’s in tears, there’s not a sign of her at the hotel...’

  Here we go again! Zahid thought as he felt the pull of the mad Fosters’ vortex. A night out last night with Donald and co. and Zahid was remembering all too well why he chose only minimal contact. Gus had kept insisting that Zahid extend his visit, or come and stay later in the year, and Zahid had reluctantly explained that he would be marrying soon and his time was now to be spent in Ishla.

  And now, it would seem, Trinity had gone missing in action again.

  Nothing changed.

  ‘Why don’t I call Dianne and see if there’s an update?’ Zahid suggested, for it was the best man’s duty to keep the groom calm, but he had never seen Donald so tense. He made the call and then gave Donald the news. ‘Your mother’s at the airport and she says Trinity’s plane just landed. As soon as she is through customs, she will take her straight to the hotel and help her to get ready. Call Yvette and tell her that she can stop worrying.’

  ‘You can never stop worrying when Trinity’s around!’ Donald challenged. ‘I just hope she’s sober.’

  It wasn’t Donald’s comment that had a certain disquiet stir in Zahid. It was his reaction to the news that Trinity had landed and that soon he would see her again.

  Over the years there had been a few near misses. Zahid, when he had heard Trinity’s plane was delayed, had assumed that this would be another. But that she was in the same country now brought a strange sense of calm—the planets seemed more neatly aligned, the stars just a little less random. They were in the same country and finally, after all this time, they would see each other again.

  He wondered if she would be bringing someone and briefly wrestled with the distaste of that thought but then dismissed its significance. It had nothing to do with feelings, Zahid quickly told himself. After all, it was possibly his last weekend in England as a single man and certainly there was unfinished business between them. It was natural to be hoping that she was attending the wedding alone.


  * * *

  Trinity didn’t have to wait for baggage and she raced out of customs, her heart aflutter. Despite everything, she was looking forward to seeing her mum. Maybe things would be different now, Trinity hoped as her eyes scanned the crowd for Dianne. Maybe her mum would realise just how difficult today was. Maybe...

  Her heart lurched in hope as she saw her mum, dressed for the wedding, just minus a hat. Trinity raced over and gave her a hug. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘Have you been drinking?’ was Dianne’s only response to her daughter’s kiss.

  ‘I had one bourbon on the plane.’

  ‘It’s whisky,’ Dianne hissed. ‘You’re in England now. Where the hell have you been?’

  ‘The plane was delayed.’

  ‘I don’t want to hear your excuses.’

  Trinity could feel her mother’s fingers digging into her arms as they raced to get a taxi and Dianne didn’t let up as they sped to the hotel. ‘Yvette is in tears. She wanted her own sister to be bridesmaid and now you’ve made us look...’ Dianne struggled to contain her temper. It had taken many, many dinners to convince Yvette’s parents to choose Trinity for the role, but a generous helping hand towards the wedding bill had given them leverage and the Fosters had insisted that their voice be heard.

  Oh, and so too would Trinity’s voice be heard, Dianne remembered. She just had to tell Trinity that! ‘I’ve told Yvette that you’re going to sing near the end of the night.’

  ‘Excuse me.’ Trinity’s mouth was agape. ‘I can’t sing.’

  ‘You’ve got a beautiful voice.’

  ‘Actually, I don’t.’ Trinity could not believe that they’d ask this of her. ‘Mum, please, I don’t want to sing, I just want to...’

  Hide.

  ‘When do you go back?’ Dianne asked.

  ‘Tomorrow afternoon.’

  ‘So it really is a flying visit, then.’

  ‘I’ve got an interview next week.’

  ‘If you’d let your father help, you wouldn’t be out of work.’

  ‘I’m not out of work,’ Trinity bristled, because she had a job at the beach bar and she certainly earned her money there, but Dianne pulled a face.

  ‘If anyone asks, say...’ Dianne thought for a moment. ‘Say you’re working in a museum.’

  ‘You want me to lie?’

  ‘Yes, please!’ Dianne said. ‘We didn’t put you through an art history degree to have you working in a bar.’

  ‘Ancient art,’ Trinity corrected, and then smirked at her mum. ‘What sort of museum exactly?’ She watched as her mother’s neck went red.

  ‘Okay, a library, then. The reference section. At one of the big colleges.’

  Nothing changed.

  They got to the hotel and the shoebox of a room that had been booked for Trinity. After a lightning-quick shower she sat as her hair was brushed and coiled and pinned by her tense mother while Trinity quickly did her make-up. Moods weren’t improved when her mother unzipped a bag and pulled out the most awful blue dress that Trinity had ever seen.

  ‘You are joking?’ Trinity said. ‘It’s so shiny I’m going to need sunglasses to wear it.’

  ‘Had you bothered to come to any of the fittings then you might have had a say in what you were wearing. As it is...’ She lifted up Trinity’s arm and attempted to pull up the concealed zip that was located at the side. ‘You’ve put on weight!’ Dianne accused.

  ‘No,’ Trinity said. ‘I gave you my measurements exactly.’

  ‘Then why can’t I do it up?’

  Because you refused to believe I was ten pounds heavier than your goal weight for me, Trinity thought, but said nothing, just sucked in her stomach and chest as her mother tugged at the stupid zip until finally it was up.

  ‘Is breathing an optional extra?’ Trinity quipped.

  ‘Yes,’ Dianne snapped back. ‘But smiling isn’t. This is your brother’s day.’

  ‘Oh, funny, that, I thought it was Yvette’s.’

  ‘Trinity!’ Dianne was struggling to hold onto her temper. ‘Don’t start.’

  ‘I’m not starting anything, I was just saying...’

  ‘Well, don’t!’ Dianne warned. ‘You’ve already done your level best to ruin this day. All you have to do now is smile. Can you manage that?’’

  ‘Of course, but I’m not singing.’

  ‘And lose the smart mouth.’ Dianne secured her hat as she issued instructions. ‘Go now and apologise to Yvette. I’m going to make my way to the church. I’ll see you there and I’m warning you...’

  ‘Noted.’

  ‘I mean it, Trinity, I don’t want a scene from you today.’

  She should say nothing, Trinity knew that. She should just nod and reassure her mum that she’d behave, but, hell, she had a voice and as much as her parents loathed that fact, Trinity was determined to find it.

  ‘Then just make sure I’m not put in any position where I might need to make a scene,’ Trinity said, and her mother’s silk-clad shoulders stiffened and Trinity watched as the feather sticking out of Dianne’s hat shivered in anger as Trinity refused to comply with orders.

  ‘Will you just...?’ Dianne hissed, and turned around. ‘Can you try and remember that this is your brother’s wedding and not spoil a family gathering for once.’ Her face was right up at Trinity’s. ‘For once can today not be about you?’

  ‘Of course.’ Trinity stared back coolly but her heart was hammering in her chest. ‘Just make sure that you keep that sleaze well away from me.’

  ‘Are you still going on about that? It was years ago...’ Two champagnes on an empty stomach that was fluttering with mother-of-the-groom nerves and Dianne would not be argued with, and certainly she wanted nothing to spoil what had to be a perfect day. ‘You will behave, Trinity, you will be polite and you will smile.’

  It had been stupid to hope things might be different.

  Nothing had changed, Trinity realised.

  Nothing ever would.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Trinity asked, as she watched her mother’s painfully slow attempt to write a text. ‘I’ll do it.’

  ‘It’s done,’ Dianne said, as her phone made the small whooshing sound that meant her text had been sent. ‘I was just letting Zahid know that you’re on your way to Yvette and that everything’s back on schedule.’

  As she took the elevator to Yvette’s room for the first time that morning Trinity smiled.

  As he pulled his phone from his pocket and read the text, so too did Zahid.

  CHAPTER THREE

  IT WAS NOT the bride who drew Zahid’s eye as she entered the church; instead, it was the woman who walked behind her who held his attention.

  There was a smile fixed on Trinity’s face but her eyes were as wary and as truculent as the teenage Trinity’s, but then they met his and Zahid watched as her pale cheeks infused with pink. For both of them there was a moment’s return to a wood many years ago and a kiss that both wished had drawn to a more natural conclusion.

  Zahid smiled, which he rarely did, and Trinity was so lost for a moment, so taken aback by Zahid’s smile that as the bride halted, for a second Trinity didn’t. She actually forgot her place, for it was as if she should simply walk on to Zahid—to go now and greet him as her body wanted to and wrap her arms around his neck, but instead, after a brief falter, Trinity halted and took the flowers from Yvette.

  Zahid turned his back to her then and the service commenced.

  The service was long, not by Zahid’s standards, just terribly long to stand there and not turn around when he would have preferred to.

  Though Zahid stared ahead, he was looking at her very closely in his mind and re-examining the Trinity he’d seen today.

  Her dress was terrible. Like a synthetic sapphire, it lacked depth and mystery and it was far too tight. Her hair was worn up and dotted with violets that matched the dark smudges under her eyes, yet she looked, to Zahid, amazing. Sun-kissed, dirty blonde, fragile and sexy, she was everythi
ng he remembered her to be and more.

  Trinity stared ahead, loathing that her shoulders were bare and wondering whose eyes were on them. She hated the loud sound of her aunt’s husband singing a hymn, as if he meant the words, as if he were a decent man.

  So, instead of dwelling on the man behind and to the right, she fixed her gaze ahead and stared at Zahid, a man who did not know the words but neither did Zahid pretend to sing. He stood firm and dignified and she willed him to turn around.

  He didn’t.

  He could have no idea the torture today was for her, for she could tell no one about her past—that had been spelt out to her many years ago. His raven hair was glossy and immaculate, his shoulders wider than before and possibly he was taller. She saw the clenching of his fist in the small of his back and remembered that same hand on her waist when the world had seemed so straightforward. As he handed over the rings she was treated to a glimpse of his strong profile and her ears strained to capture whatever words he murmured to Donald.

  Zahid was as conscious of Trinity as she was of him, so much so that as they all squeezed into the vestry for the signing of the register, despite the chatter from others, he only heard her exhale in brief relief.

  ‘Trinity...’ her father warned as she leant against the wall to catch her breath, so relieved was she to be away from Clive.

  Donald and Yvette signed the register and Gus added his signature with a flourish. Trinity watched as Zahid added his. Sheik Prince Zahid Bin Ahmed of Ishla.

  ‘Leave some space for me.’ Trinity smiled and then added her own signature.

  Trinity Natalii Foster.

  Her hand was shaking, Trinity realised as she put down the pen, only the nerves she had now felt very different to the ones that she’d had before.

  As she stepped back from the register she caught the deliciously familiar scent of Zahid and as he lowered his head to her ear the tiny bones all shivered awake to the deep, long-buried thrill of his low, intimate voice.

  ‘Natalii?’

  ‘Born at Christmas,’ Trinity said. ‘Please never repeat it again, I hate it.’

  Of course she had been born at Christmas, Zahid thought, for, unbeknown to Trinity he had returned to the Fosters’ in the hope of seeing her in the new year after she would have turned eighteen.