A Summer Reunion Read online

  Jane’s mouth opened and she stared at me, her face pale in the moonlight. It was then I knew I’d been right all along. She had something to do with that watch and my expulsion. Then she remembered herself and adjusted her expression from aghast to interest.

  ‘I did wonder for a moment, but it can’t be him,’ she said.

  ‘Why not?’ Linda had arrived on the terrace armed with four small glasses and the half-finished bottle of wine from the fridge. She put them down and got pouring. ‘This OK?’ she asked me.

  I didn’t bother replying, just grabbed a glass and sat down. ‘Whether he is or not doesn’t really matter.’ I took a breath. It was now or never. ‘Did you have anything to do with me being expelled, Jane? It’s a long time now but here we are, and I’d still like to know.’

  She looked away. ‘Of course I didn’t. You accused him of offering you high grades for sex. And you stole his watch.’

  ‘You’re sure of that?’ I could hardly get the words out, I was so angry.

  ‘And then you told me you’d made it all up. Anyway, what does it matter now? It’s history, and you’ve overcome whatever happened. You’ve got a great life.’

  The other two were staring at me, waiting for me to reply. I was so astonished, I wasn’t sure how to react. Whenever would I have said that to her? I felt a cold wind on my back.

  ‘Yes, I have got a great life. But, as we’re together, I’d like to know the truth now. I’m sure I didn’t tell you I’d made it up because it happened. Simple as that.’ My word against hers. Just as it had once been my word against his. ‘When do you think I told you?’

  ‘I can’t remember exactly.’ She shifted in her seat, uncertain. ‘But I’m sure you did.’

  I could see, with the weight of history on her side, the others were wondering which of us could be believed.

  ‘And that’s what I told Mum.’

  I didn’t know what to think, but she had handed me a key.

  ‘You told your mother?’ Immediately I could see that she regretted saying anything. She looked suddenly unsure of herself, turning to look at the others for the support they couldn’t give.

  ‘Yes.’ Defiant now.

  ‘Without talking to me?’

  ‘Of course we must have talked. I wouldn’t have said anything otherwise.’ But she didn’t sound one hundred per cent certain. ‘And anyway, he wasn’t like that.’

  ‘How do you know that? You weren’t in the room with us.’

  She sat up straight, clenching her fists, her expression fierce. ‘This is just something you’ve built up over the years and expect us to go along with. Well, I won’t. He was, and probably still is a good man.’ She appealed to the others. Linda looked as if she was about to say something but didn’t. But why did Jane care so much about Mr Wilson? Why did any of it matter to her? Why not the truth?

  ‘What did your mum do, Jane?’ I picked up my glass and turned it in my hand, watching the wine slosh to one side then the other.

  She sat straight, poured herself a glass, and looked me straight in the eyes. ‘Nothing,’ she said. ‘She did nothing.’

  But I didn’t believe her.

  14

  The next day, Linda woke with a light headache, resolving once again to cut down on her drinking. Still lying in bed, she phoned her aunt who was having one of her good days and wished her a happy holiday. The conversation was short but Linda was glad to hear that Aunt Pat was coming round to the carer who had bought her favourite biscuits and done her ironing.

  When she eventually got out to the terrace, Amy had already laid breakfast: fresh bread, croissants and almond cake brought up from the bakery by Dan, salami, cheese, butter and jam, and fruit. She brought out fresh coffee and poured them all a cup.

  ‘Brendan called to say he’ll have the boat ready at about one-thirty. I thought we could go down to Sóller again and take the tram to the port. It’s a bit of a tourist thing but you can’t come all the way here and not go on it once. What do you think?’

  ‘I think I’ll pass,’ said Jane abruptly.

  They all looked at her. But her face gave nothing away.

  ‘That is if you don’t mind,’ she added quickly. ‘But I prefer dry land.’

  Amy looked put out, then recovered herself. ‘Not at all. You must do what you want. Are you two up for it?’

  Linda grasped her coffee cup in both hands and nodded. Kate too.

  ‘Great. If we leave at ten-thirty. OK? And of course no one has to come if they don’t fancy it.’ What did that look she gave Jane mean? Or had Linda imagined it?

  ‘I’ll squeeze in an hour by the pool first then.’ Kate picked up her breakfast things to take inside. ‘I’m getting used to this.’

  ‘Oh, leave them.’ Amy jumped up. ‘You haven’t come here to skivvy. I’ll clear up and check my emails before we go.’ Her mind had obviously run ahead to something business-connected. She seemed to have more emails to deal with than anyone Linda knew.

  ‘Everything OK at work?’ Linda couldn’t help thinking of her own predicament.

  ‘Oh yes, nothing that can’t be sorted.’ But Amy’s brush-off lacked conviction. ‘I’ve just got to keep in touch to make sure it’s happening.’ She started collecting the breakfast things onto the tray.

  ‘I’ll come with you, Kate.’ Linda picked up her book, trying not to show her reluctance to be left alone with Amy and Jane. She had a feeling last night’s conversation wasn’t over yet and she didn’t much want to be there when it reached a conclusion. They all knew Jane’s hold on the truth could be shaky, but would she really have planted that watch as Amy suggested? Or lied to her mother? As for Amy’s story about Mr Wilson – she couldn’t believe that either. Which of them was telling the truth?

  Linda and Kate set up their loungers in full glare of the sun rising above the mountains across the valley. ‘Now what?’ Linda couldn’t resist, lowering her voice so she couldn’t possibly be heard from the house.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Kate began spraying her legs with suntan oil.

  ‘Isn’t a bit awkward after last night? What are you going to do?’

  ‘Nothing.’ A long sigh escaped Kate as she lay back. ‘I’m going to enjoy this place while I can, even though I’m not too great on boats.’

  ‘Come with me to Deià then.’ Dan sat down beside them. Although he hadn’t joined them for breakfast, they had seen him doing yoga at the very end of the garden and left him undisturbed.

  ‘Deià?’ echoed Kate.

  ‘Yeah, why not? It’s great little place – you should visit. On the coast and very different from here.’

  ‘Sounds great.’ Although she would never expect him to, Linda wished he had asked her.

  ‘But I’ve only got room for one.’ He spread his palms in a gesture of apology.

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Kate, uncertain.

  ‘Oh go,’ said Linda. ‘You don’t like boats and I don’t mind them. It’ll be hard but somehow we’ll manage without you!’

  ‘Really? You don’t mind.’

  ‘Not at all.’ Being on her own with Amy might be fun, and perhaps by the evening, the general atmosphere would have eased. If only they hadn’t brought quite so much unresolved emotional baggage with them.

  Looking at the crowd waiting for the tram in the centre of Sóller, Linda hesitated. People were spilling over the pavement, jostling for position, some armed with beach bags, others hanging on to their children. Even in the shade, the heat was oppressive.

  ‘Come on.’ Amy led her up the hill to join the crush at its lowest point. ‘You’d be surprised how many the tram takes.’

  The toot of the tram sounded in the main square below. Immediately the crowd surged forward in anticipation of its arrival, everyone eager to be first on. Up the hill chuntered the four carriages, the few people inside looking brace
d for the imminent influx of passengers, the driver standing at the front. As they pulled up, Linda felt herself being pushed forward and up the metal steps into the last carriage. She was about to take one of the wooden slatted seats when a large heavily tattooed man and his family barged in front of her.

  ‘Here!’ Amy shouted from behind where she had bagged a seat for the two of them. Gratefully Linda sat down and waited as everyone else settled round them. Soon Amy was proved right and the street was almost empty, with lots of people standing in the aisles and on the footplates at either end of the carriages. Once the tram got moving, jolting and creaking, a light breeze blew through the open windows, and Linda looked out at the residential part of the town as they travelled between blocks of flats, houses and gardens, over the main road, heading towards the coast.

  The tram slowed, giving a couple of warning toots so a couple of children and a dog scarpered out of its way. Before long they arrived at the port, taking the last straight section between the long strip of beach and the promenade, and the restaurants jammed with hungry tourists. More holiday apartments were being built beyond the houses on the hillside that surrounded a large natural bay with a marina at its northern end. The sea glittered in the sunlight, children’s shouts travelled from the beach; a couple of yachts sailed out to the open sea. The marina was jammed with boats of all shapes and sizes. Somewhere among them Brendan and Sheila were waiting.

  Once off the tram, they picked their way through the crowd waiting for the return journey towards the promenade. They walked past a couple of restaurants, the air rich with the smell of frying fish. Even from here Linda could make out the gin palaces moored alongside smaller boats of all shapes and sizes. She could imagine them all on board, convivial, glass of wine in hand, as they bobbed on the open sea. Brendan hadn’t struck her as someone with money to splash around, but she didn’t know his background or his enthusiasms. This was going to be a more luxurious afternoon that she’d imagined.

  As they took a left along one of the pontoons, they spotted Brendan waving. To Linda’s relief there was no sign of Sheila or Jove. She and Amy waved back and started to walk a little faster, past the fishermen who had their nets laid out on the ground for repair, and their boats: dirty, smelly, working vessels laden with tackle.

  Brendan was standing by one of the biggest boats in the marina. Even with the minimum of seafaring knowledge, she could recognise the Rolls Royce of motorboats: gunmetal grey and gleaming, sleek and powerful. At the stern was a large seating area with a dining table and cushioned sun chairs – ideal for the odd sundowner. Perhaps this afternoon was going to be even more enjoyable than she’d anticipated. Pity the other two for not having come.

  ‘Just the two of you then?’ Brendan’s disappointment when he realised Jane and Kate weren’t with them was evident. Perhaps, to him too, Jane was another nut he had to crack.

  But his disappointment was nothing compared to Linda’s when he turned and walked away from the boat of her dreams. Still, she reassured herself, there were hundreds of others to choose from: not necessarily as big, but pristine white conquerors of the sea that swarmed with crew, mostly fit young men in shorts, cleaning, painting, sitting having coffee. One of them must be Brendan’s. Messing about in a boat had taken on a whole new dimension for her. She clutched the handle of her picnic basket a little tighter.

  ‘Aren’t they amazing?’ Amy didn’t wait for a reply. ‘Where are you moored?’ she shouted at Brendan’s back.

  He lifted an arm and pointed, but it could have been at any of a number of boats, all of them considerably smaller than the ones they had passed. He turned a corner and stopped. ‘Climb aboard!’ he said with a sweeping gesture. ‘This is Reina del Mar. Queen of the Sea to you. Isn’t she a beauty?’ He spoke with real pride.

  He must be joking. Surely this boat was far too small for them to spend the whole afternoon on. Less a luxury motor boat and more a tarted-up fishing boat painted a brilliant white with a royal blue canvas strung over the deck for shade. But Sheila and Jove were already on board, stashing a coolbag into the wheel cabin where all four of them couldn’t possibly fit should the weather change. If the other two had come it would have been a real squash.

  ‘Don’t look so worried,’ said Amy behind a hand. ‘She’s as stable as they come, made for all weathers. Anyway we’re not tackling the open ocean, just chugging round the coast to a beach and getting off.’

  ‘Less of the chugging.’ Brendan was right behind them. ‘Wait till you hear the hum of that engine.’

  ‘Come off it,’ said Amy, as she took her first steps on to the gangplank, then held her hand out to help Linda.

  As they boarded, Jove, who was tied up on a very short lead, jumped about, barking.

  ‘He’ll calm down in a minute. Take a seat.’ Sheila backed into the cabin, leaving room for Amy and Linda to settle themselves on wooden benches on opposite sides of the boat. She passed them each a cushion. Linda wedged hers behind her back but all the rocking about was making her queasy. She took a few deep breaths with her hand on her throat and watched as Brendan and Sheila cast off from the moorings so that they could chug (right word!) out of the marina towards the mouth of the harbour. Meanwhile Jove, who had been let off his lead, had settled down in a fleece-lined basked by Brendan’s feet.

  ‘Drinks?’ Sheila passed out bottles of chilled water.

  ‘Isn’t this great?’ Amy stretched out her legs and leaned back, her face bluish in the light filtering through the canopy.

  Linda used her hand to stop her hat flying off. ‘Mm-hmm.’ But it was. As she breathed in the sea air the sickness left her and, after a few minutes, she removed her hat altogether and trailed her hand in the wake of the boat.

  ‘What do you think I should do about Jane?’ Amy’s question came from nowhere, taking Linda by surprise and making Sheila and Brendan look at her.

  ‘Trouble?’ asked Brendan.

  ‘Not really. We were talking about something that happened years ago that we remember quite differently.’

  ‘She has a quite different take on what happened,’ Linda said. ‘Very odd.’

  ‘I was expelled just before my A levels,’ Amy explained.

  Leaving Sheila at the wheel, Brendan sat beside her, intrigued.

  ‘Jane says I told her I lied about something, and I’m absolutely sure I didn’t.’

  ‘And?’

  She left it there with a smile and a shake of her head.

  Brendan looked disappointed that she wasn’t going to go on. ‘But does it really matter any more?’

  Linda stared out towards the island’s coast, where green-clad mountains dotted with ochre houses and villas rose towards the uninterrupted blue sky. The heat on board was mitigated by the blue canopy and the sea breeze. ‘Do you think she’ll still be there when we get back?’ she asked, although what she really wanted to know was whether Amy was right about the artist. Surely she would have recognised Jack Wilson herself – even from a distance.

  Amy was startled by the idea. ‘I’m sure she will be. We left it open, and anyway she’s not due in Barcelona for another couple of days. She’s got a conference there. That was what swung her into coming here.’

  ‘Didn’t Kate hint at something else?’

  ‘Did she? I didn’t notice.’

  ‘What sort of conference?’ asked Brendan.

  ‘Medical. Something to do with oncology, must be,’ explained Amy to the other two. ‘Believe it or not, I wanted to be a doctor too when we were at school, but things didn’t work out that way.’

  ‘Why not?’ Brendan returned to the wheel and looked back at them. ‘You seem the sort of person who could do anything she wanted. Unlike us.’ He took over the steering from Sheila and grinned.

  ‘Because it was a teenage dream and stuff happened. I lost my way for a bit and then, when I perhaps could have taken my A levels and g
one to university, it was too late. I was in my thirties and I was getting Amy Green up and running with Rob. I couldn’t have let that go.’

  ‘We’ve lived here successfully enough,’ Sheila said to Brendan, looking hurt he’d suggested otherwise. ‘We didn’t want that sort of success. I’ve always believed what matters is living your life, being true to yourself. Whether it’s having a business empire like yours,’ she nodded towards Amy. ‘Or opening a shop like ours.’

  By those standards, Linda’s own life hadn’t amounted to much. Had she even been true to herself? Sheila’s words found their target. ‘You had a shop?’ she asked. ‘I didn’t know that.’

  ‘Not any more. We made and sold silver jewellery, ours and other people’s, but the demand fell away and the rents went up.’

  ‘We inherited the house from Sheila’s parents who conveniently died and left it to her when we were on our uppers,’ Brendan added. ‘So we make do by looking after various rental properties on the island for the owners. It’s not glamorous but it gives us the life we like.’ He gestured towards the island. ‘What about you?’

  ‘I’m not sure I do have the life I like. Not really.’ Linda thought about the dismissive or despairing looks she received at work when she took too long helping with an enquiry while the queue grew longer and longer. She remembered how much more pleasant her working environment had been when Mike was there. But had she even been happy then? Truly happy? ‘I work in the Robin Hood Library in Nottingham, have done for years but I’ve just been offered voluntary redundancy.’ To her surprise, she felt better having it out in the open.

  ‘Oh no! That’s awful. You should have said.’ Amy grasped her hand.

  ‘I’m trying not to think about it while I’m here.’ If only it were that easy. She pulled her hand away. ‘But I’m going to have to make a decision pretty much as soon as I’m back.’

  ‘Take it,’ said Brendan. ‘You’re probably thinking it’ll be the end of everything. But when I think of those of our friends that it’s happened to, not one of them regrets it now. Other things will come to you. Open yourself to the universe, and the universe will give back to you.’