Ra Ra Rasputin

My head was spinning filled with images of; mutilated faces, sinister parcels and stiletto stabbed bodies in pools of blood ....

What was the link between me and media tycoon Trudie Hewitt?

Who was conspiring to tie us together by this bizarre set of events?

After my lunch with Cassie I caught a black cab home and went to check in on Tomas.

I was overjoyed to find him on top form, bitchy, funny and, above all, happy. His body may still be in recovery but his spirit remained intact.

I stood in the doorway and looked in on him. He was propped up by several downy pillows, his honed torso visible, he was wearing an expensive pair of black silk pyjama bottoms.

'Amanda my darling', he saw me out of the corner of his eye, 'I was just giving the boys a lesson on Russian history, Rasputin to be precise.'

Marcel and Anthony turned to smile at me, both returning to hear more about mad Russian monks who slept with Tsarinas and couldn't be killed ... it was the stuff of legend and Tomas used all of his story telling skills to excite and entertain.

'So, you may think that your Royal Family has it's secrets but the Windsors have nothing on their Russian cousins the Romanovs ... it took a lot more than a speeding car in a Parisian tunnel for them to get rid of their dirty laundry ...'

'Tomas, can I have a moment?'

He nodded and indicated for Marcel and Anthony to leave whcih they duly did, quickly standing up and exiting, both giving me a respectful nod as they passed.

'Got some other things to talk about I'm afraid', I sat on the edge of the bed and smiled, unable to stop the tears from welling in my eyes.

'Come here darling' he said, I leant towards him and was enveloped in his strong arms.

I couldn't help myself and tears started to run down my cheeks and onto his chest, dampening the dark hairs on it.

Sorry I'm being pathetic, I said as I pulled myself and sat up.

'Amanda, my little alley cat', he smiled as he called me by my pet name,'You've been though so much this past few years, what with Emmanuel's death, all of the nasty business with the Gonzalez family, especially that spawn of satan Justin ... and having to live with the fact that you are regular tabloid fodder. Yet,' he continued, 'during all this time i have never seen you cry, not once, not ever ..'

I looked at him, tears still running down my face ...

'It's time to let them out', he said and gently pulled me down so that I was lying on the bed beside him.

'It's time to le them out so you can empty yourself of the bad, of the past ... once you've done that you'll be clean and clear and ready to fight again.'

I snuggled against his strong body and closed my eyes ... he was right, let it all out ... there was so much hurt and pain in there ... it was time to let it go ... time to move on ....