A Summer Reunion Page 15

  ‘I wish I could believe that.’ As far as Linda was concerned, that was too much like hippie waffle. That wasn’t how the world worked in her experience, but Sheila was nodding in agreement. ‘He’s right, you know.’

  ‘Maybe.’ She relapsed into silence with the others in sympathy as the boat nosed its way along the coastline. Eventually they turned into a long rocky cove, with a beach at its head.

  ‘Cala Tuent,’ announced Brendan. ‘One of our favourites. It’s so hard to get to by road that it stays relatively quiet.’ He cut the engine and, with Sheila’s help, lowered the anchor. ‘Swim, anyone?’

  Swim! Linda had almost forgotten she had, on Amy’s advice, put her swimsuit on underneath her clothes. Somehow she had got used to its restrictions. Without the engine churning it up, the water became a deep greeny blue, lightening to aquamarine at the edges of the cove. Without the breeze from the movement of the boat, she could feel her skin burning in the sun. As Brendan pulled off his T-shirt and dived in, Jove started racing from one end of the boat to the other, standing on his hindlegs in a frenzy of barking as Brendan upended and dived underneath the boat. He emerged on the other side, sending Jove even more frantic, shaking his head and pushing his hair off his face. ‘It’s bloody marvellous. Come on, ladies.’

  The boat rocked as the other two stripped down to their bikinis. Not that Linda would be caught dead in one, but the ruched lycra did make her feel a bit old-maidish. But what could she do but join in regardless? And the sea couldn’t be more inviting. As she got to the metal steps, she felt Jove rush at her ankle. Panicked, she kicked out at him. There was a splash and the barking stopped. She was already almost down the ladder, feeling the water like a warm bath, when there was a scream. ‘Jove!’ Sheila came whirling through the water like a demented bath toy. ‘Where is he?’

  Linda looked around her. Not far to her right, a bundle of fur was doing a feeble doggy-paddle, its nose just clear of the water.

  ‘Grab him,’ shouted Sheila. ‘Quick!’

  ‘I thought all dogs could swim,’ yelled Amy from the other end of the boat.

  ‘Not this one.’ With a couple of clean strokes, Brendan had scooped up the floundering Jove and popped him back over the edge of the boat.

  ‘Not like that!’ Sheila reached the ladder and climbed in, bending over, muttering endearments. ‘Where’s the towel?’

  By the time she found it, wrapped up the dog and was sitting cradling him like a baby, Linda had swum up to Amy. They caught one another’s eye and smiled broadly. Then Amy winked. Trying not to laugh, Linda rolled on to her back and lay, floating, eyes closed, feeling the water lap against her.

  ‘Race you to the beach,’ said Amy.

  Race? Linda hadn’t raced anywhere for years. But Amy splashed water over her so that she spluttered and overbalanced. Why not? She hadn’t forgotten how. Not entirely. As she began to swim, she found the strokes and some of the strength that she’d had when they were young. Together, they pulled away from the boat and swam stroke for stroke, just as they had in the past, towards the shore.

  When they arrived at the pebbly, gravelly beach, backed by olive trees, they sat at the edge of the sea, their legs lapped by the translucent water. The pick-pock sound of a game of beach tennis in progress behind them broke the stillness of the afternoon. Linda picked up a stone and skimmed it across the water. One, two … five jumps.

  ‘Isn’t this perfect?’ said Amy.

  And it was. All Linda’s anxieties had left her and for once, she was entirely in the present. This is what life could still offer her. She didn’t have to be the misery she’d become.

  ‘You should listen to Brendan. He’s right. Sometimes it’s easier to stick in the same job doing what you know because anything else seems daunting. I’ve seen so many people do that. But it’s never too late to change. Other opportunities do present themselves. You’ll see.’

  Linda’s disbelieving sigh made Amy turn to look at her but she kept her face tipped towards the sun. Did opportunities present themselves to women of her age who had only ever had one career, she asked herself. Was there still a chance for her to do something where she would be accepted and that she would enjoy? Perhaps, she thought, perhaps they were right. Perhaps the time had come to start being braver and putting herself first.

  15

  Kate felt giddy and light-headed as she gripped on to Dan’s T-shirt, pressed her knees in against his thighs, feeling the warm wind against her face. He was probably taking the winding coastal road slower than he normally would, given she was riding pillion, but this was thrilling all the same. As they roared up the road out of Sóller, the surrounding landscape grew increasingly impressive as they sped over the mountains until the road ran parallel to the coastline below.

  Her heart was in her mouth as they hugged the edge of the road to let something pass from the opposite direction, the land dropping away beside them, across the wooded mountainside to the endless deep blue sea where, in the distance, boats sailed slowly across the horizon.

  Ochre-coloured houses clung on to the mountainsides among pines and olive and citrus groves. The road was busy but Dan was focused, slowing down for the twistiest of bends, speeding up again as it straightened. This was the most reckless thing Kate had done for as long as she could remember. How many times had she forbidden her sons from riding motorbikes, terrified by all the horror stories? And yet here she was taking a risk with her own life. The knowledge that she was doing something that Alan and the kids would have insisted she didn’t only added to the adrenaline rush.

  Dan slowed down, signalled left by an olive grove and turned up a track into a car park. Off the bike, her legs were trembling, her knees stiff and, her helmet off, her hair stuck to her head.

  ‘You can’t come to Deià without visiting Robert Graves’s house,’ said Dan. ‘So that’s our first stop.’

  Kate raked her fingers through her hair despite it being too late to care how she looked. He locked up the bike and they walked along the side of the road as far as a gateway with a ticket office just inside. The next hour was unexpected and fascinating, as they wandered through the house and garden. Kate found out more than she’d ever wanted to know about the author of I, Claudius, a novel she dimly remembered reading in her early twenties, and his wives. The whole set-up looked so bohemian and alive.

  Dan turned out to be a good companion and guide. He sensed that she didn’t need him crowding her and overloading her with information, so kept his comments to the bare minimum, only drawing her attention to things she might otherwise have missed such as some of the ephemera in Graves’s office or a letter from T.S. Eliot in the museum. This was the first time she’d been anywhere on her own with a man who wasn’t Alan since she got married, and she was surprised by how at ease Dan made her feel. He felt like the best kind of old friend.

  Back on the bike, they took a turning down a steep winding road that could only lead to the coast. She hung on for dear life as it twisted and turned, the bike leaning to the left and then the right, stopping for the occasional car coming in the opposite direction where the road was too narrow for both of them. Eventually, they arrived at a crowded woodland car park, where Dan pulled up.

  ‘Just a little further, then we’ll have to walk,’ he said. ‘I think you’ll like it when we get there.’ Through the car park dappled with sun, down a road exclusively used by those who lived in a hamlet in the woods, until they came to a concrete slipway leading down to the sea, the white hulls of upturned boats lined up down its sides. On the far side of the slipway was a huddle of small stone buildings and, above them, a restaurant, its terrace open to the sea. A faint smell of fried fish hung in the air. Round the corner, a small bouldered beach formed the base of a rocky inlet. At the back of the beach was another restaurant, like the first, packed with diners.

  ‘I thought we could have a swim,’ said Dan, checking to see her
reaction. ‘And then I’ve booked a table for lunch.’ He pointed to the restaurant on the cliff. ‘What do you think?’

  Before they left that morning, he’d suggested she wear her swimsuit just in case. ‘Or you can change in the woods.’ So she was all ready. Looking around at the assorted bodies, she realised that there was no need for embarrassment and, after all, he’d seen what she had to offer before.

  ‘Sounds perfect.’

  So together they picked their way over the rocks to a spot where they could leave their clothes not too far from the water. She stripped off and laid her shorts and shirt on her towel. Dan gave her a quick, appreciative look. ‘You look great,’ he said.

  ‘Great’s the word,’ she replied, immediately annoyed with herself for being so tiresome and self-deprecating.

  With the brief ‘Don’t be silly’ and a raised eyebrow that she deserved, he led the way to the sea.

  What would Alan say if he could see her now? Before she found the answer, she pushed the thought from her mind. For once, she was enjoying herself without anyone hurrying her up or nagging. Besides, she’d be home in a few days. He’d offered a slightly begrudging ‘Enjoy yourself’ when she left – so she would. And it wasn’t as if she hadn’t left the freezer bursting with his favourite meals. Even if he couldn’t work the oven. She had done her bit.

  After their time by the pool, she didn’t feel too self-conscious as she crossed the boulders to the sea. And the sea was perfect, like being submerged in a shimmering opalescent bath where the rocks under their feet were completely visible. Dan was already swimming out towards the boats moored at the mouth of the cove. He turned round once and waved her towards him – ‘Come out here! The fish!’

  She swam towards him, looking down at the shoals of tiny fish that whisked back and forth around her. From here, the beach looked smaller, dotted with brightly coloured parasols, towels spread out on the baking rocks, people splishing about at the shore, others striking out as they had.

  ‘I haven’t been anywhere like this for years. The farm’s so demanding that it’s hard to take time off.’ What she didn’t say was that when they did, the holidays she dreamed of were not those her husband looked forward to. Any disloyal thoughts were private. Alan could never slow down, so when not on the farm, he liked to be in a city. He liked galleries, monuments, medieval town centres with maze-like streets in which to wander, places dripping with history and culture. Over the years they had notched up long weekends in Paris, Rome, Vienna, Tallin, Budapest and one or two more.

  However she wanted nothing more than this: the nothingness of being in a beautiful place with no calls on her time. She gazed at the beach where people stood or basked like lizards on the hot rocks. Above them the cliffs rose to pine woods that resonated against the blue sky. Paradise. And she was part of it.

  They swam back together and sat on the shoreline, saying nothing, the waves lapping over their legs.

  ‘So you like it?’ Dan eventually broke the silence between them.

  She beamed at him. ‘It’s perfect. Thank you for bringing me here. Much better than throwing up on a boat.’

  ‘I doubt you would in this weather. It’s like a mirror out there.’ He smiled. ‘But I’m glad you came. Shall we dry off and have lunch?’

  Fifteen minutes later, they’d climbed the steep stone steps to the restaurant and were sitting at a table at the edge of the terrace, overlooking the sea to the other side of the cove with the rhythmic sound of the waves as an accompaniment. A bamboo screen above their heads protected them from the worst of the sun, though Kate’s skin was tingling.

  ‘You approve?’ Dan poured them some water.

  ‘A hundred per cent.’ Kate was feeling quite overwhelmed with the perfection of it all.

  Dan raised a hand to the waiter. ‘Shall we order? I want to show you more before we head home.’

  ‘Sure.’ But the heat had taken away her appetite.

  ‘So?’ Dan pulled off a piece of bread and popped it in his mouth, his eyes fixed on her.

  ‘What do you mean?’ She looked out to sea, knowing exactly what he meant, but the last thing she wanted to do was talk about what had happened the night before. She didn’t want to spoil the day, however selfish that was. On the other side of the cove, a couple were pulling a boat down a short stone slipway from a boathouse in the rock face. In the sea, people were lolling on the rocks, swimming under the sun.

  ‘So what happened last night? Something must have because you’re all behaving so weirdly today. Look at you. You’re here for a reunion and yet you’re all off doing your own thing.’

  ‘Amy and Linda are on the boat together.’

  He gave that wicked grin. ‘You know perfectly well what I mean. It isn’t going as planned, is it? I know my sister well enough to know when she’s rattled about something.’ He leaned forward, squinting against the sun. ‘You can tell me. I do know how to be discreet.’

  Kate doubted that.

  ‘And I’m the only one here who knows how to deal with her.’ He leaned back as the waiter put down a whole grilled sea bass and salad for them to share. ‘Let me.’ He proceeded to fillet the fish and divide it between them before helping them both to salad. ‘There. So … Amy and I have always been pretty close. You know that, right? Our lives might have taken us in very different directions but I’ve always looked out for her.’

  ‘You once rescued us in the playground. We’ve never forgotten.’

  ‘Did I?’ He shrugged and speared a chip with his fork. ‘But you’re not changing the subject that easily. Last night …’

  ‘I guess you might as well know,’ she said, moving her fish around the plate before taking a mouthful. ‘That artist last night?’ The fish was delicious, fresh and sweet, and grilled to perfection.

  He raised a quizzical eyebrow. ‘Jack Walsh. Yeah. I met him. Seemed an interesting guy.’

  ‘Well, you won’t believe this but … Amy thinks he might be Jack Wilson. I think Jane does too, but she’s not admitting it.’ She presented him with the fact, like a dog with a bone.

  He looked blankly at her. ‘And Jack Wilson is …?’

  She watched his face change as he cottoned on.

  ‘Not the art teacher at your school?’

  She nodded.

  He gave a long low whistle. ‘Bloody hell!’

  ‘Hard to believe, I know. But Jane and Amy had a bit of a set-to last night. If it’s him, he’s obviously got a different name but it got us talking about what happened. When Amy asked Jane if she was involved, she claimed that Amy had told her that she’d lied to get Mr Wilson in trouble.’

  ‘But that’s not true.’ His face set as he banged the end of his knife on the table.

  ‘Well, true or not, it wasn’t resolved. Jane was so insistent. I think they were both quite relieved not to have to spend today together. It’ll be better after a day apart when everyone’s had time to reflect and calm down.’ But why would it be? Wouldn’t they both want to be proved right for their own reasons?

  ‘You’re very sweet.’ He scratched his chin, gazing at her for a long moment before looking away.

  She felt herself blushing. ‘Sweet’ was not an adjective applied to her often. ‘Not really.’

  ‘We could go down to Valldemossa and find him.’ His eyes lit up with the plan. ‘Find out for sure.’

  ‘That’s not a good idea.’ Suddenly the day had lost some of its magic. ‘If anyone’s going to do that, it should be Amy, not us.’

  ‘Perhaps.’ He rapped his fingers on the table. ‘I’d have something to say to him if he is this guy. What happened did change her life, and bad karma doesn’t just disappear.’

  ‘Please. Can’t we just pretend we didn’t have this conversation until this evening?’ She wanted the day to carry on as it had been without any kind of unpleasantness. All this had happened so lon
g ago that it shouldn’t matter any more. Aside from that, she wasn’t ready for her adventure to be over. She was enjoying his company, and this new feeling of being alive again.

  He picked up his glass, turning it in his hands, as if considering his next move.

  She watched him, tense with anticipation.

  Then he held it still and looked straight at her. ‘All right.’

  ‘All right what?’

  ‘Let’s carry on as planned. I said I’d show you Deià, and that’s what I’d like to do. And then I’ll think again.’ He signalled for the bill.

  Kate sagged with relief as he dug in his pockets for his wallet. The prospect of travelling to confront her old art teacher over something he may or may not have done decades ago did not excite her. However, she was aware that the matter would have to be addressed at some point but not without Amy’s involvement. What must she be feeling? Although she was often in trouble at school – bunking off, shoplifting (once that she didn’t do), wearing too much make-up, skirt too short, smashing the hall window with a tennis ball, painting graffiti on the playground wall – and that time they were both banned from sports for being caught smoking behind the changing shed – she was not a liar.

  Amy had been egged on by Jane and competed with her in everything they did, but for some reason she always came off slightly worse. One of them had to be lying now. But Amy’s description of the assault was so detailed and she was obviously mystified by the theft of the watch. Why would she have told Jane otherwise? That made no sense. So Jane had to be lying. But that made no more sense. Unless she was just mistaken. Worse, all these years later, Amy still blamed the whole episode for changing the direction of her life, as if her success counted for nothing. Kate had no idea what or who to believe.

  ‘I, er – Christ, this is embarrassing.’ Dan held out his hands in supplication. ‘I must’ve left my wallet on the bike.’