A Summer Reunion Page 23

  But Linda felt quite calm, glad they were all seeing the real Jane. Growing older had not done her any favours, it turned out. ‘Actually we were together for months. I used to watch you mooning over him, and I’d hug my secret to myself, pleased that I was the one he’d chosen.’

  Jane raised her eyebrows as if she didn’t believe her.

  ‘More fool me. I know.’ Linda gave a sheepish smile.

  Both Amy and Kate smiled back.

  ‘Fascinating, but I think I’ve heard enough. I’m going to my room to work out what to do next.’ Picking up her bag and new scarf, Jane went inside, leaving the others open-mouthed.

  Linda breathed a silent sigh of relief, glad that she hadn’t had to go into any more detail about the pregnancy and its results in front of her.

  ‘God! She’s even more impossible than I remembered,’ said Kate. ‘Do you think I could have a gin?’

  23

  About half an hour later Jane came downstairs, pale and red-eyed, suitcase in hand. But far from being contrite, she was combative, determined.

  ‘Don’t go,’ said Kate, who happened to be in the living room, looking through one of Amy’s interiors magazines while Linda and Amy were getting ready for the evening.

  ‘Why not? None of you want me here now and, to be honest, I don’t want to be here either. For a moment I thought it might work and that we’d all be friends again but too much has happened. And far too much significance has been loaded on to two tiny things I said and did – when we were at school, for God’s sake. More on that than on the watch, which I admit was bad. But even so, get over it. The way your life turns out is down to you, not anyone else. You’ve got to make good the cards you’re dealt without blaming things that happened in your past.’

  Kate was astonished. ‘That’s harsh. You can’t expect everyone else to live by your impeccable standards.’ Jane’s endless refusal to take responsibility for her actions by blaming everyone else was maddening.

  ‘I can.’ She stood even straighter. ‘I’ve found a room in one of the village hotels. I’ll be much better off there.’

  ‘But what about supper?’ There’d been talk of going down to Sóller. ‘Why don’t you at least join us? Don’t let’s end it like this.’

  Jane gave a short laugh. ‘I don’t think I’d be welcome, do you?’

  Of course, she was right. Having all four of them together now would be awkward at best. Things should never have been allowed to go this far. Somehow, with an opportunity to clear the air, they had only got much more convoluted and recriminatory. Kate should have done something to smooth things over, but what? As the only one who hadn’t had any interest in Mr Wilson – why not? Everyone else had. Perhaps there was something wrong with her. However, for some reason, she felt it lay with her to find a way through this. But perhaps it wasn’t too late. ‘Of course you would. I think the others were in shock after Jack Walsh turned up. We should have been here.’

  ‘As for the miscarriage story …’

  ‘I’m sure that wasn’t made up.’ Linda had given her the sketchiest outline of what happened. Why wasn’t Jane more sensitive? For someone whose job was dealing with the public in a compassionate and knowledgeable way, she showed surprisingly little empathy for her friends.

  Jane jangled the car keys from her fingers. ‘I’m going to take the car. I’m sure Amy will take you and Linda to the airport.’

  ‘This is silly. Don’t do this. Take everything back to your room and stay to sort this out.’ Kate put herself between Jane and the door.

  ‘I’ve tried. I thought Amy and I had resolved things this morning but, whatever Jack Walsh or Wilson or whatever he calls himself has said, has stirred it all up again. I’m not going to take all the blame for Amy and Linda’s lives not turning out the way they wanted. It’s ridiculous.’

  ‘Aren’t you missing the point? All she wants is for you to acknowledge what you did, that’s all.’

  ‘I did that, and look where it’s got us. And now I’ve got other things that I need to deal with, if ever I’m going to sort out my own life. No, this really is the right thing to do – for all of us. Please.’ She waited for Kate to move out of the way. ‘I’ll see you back home, if I don’t bump into you at the airport.’

  Kate was dumbfounded. She thought she knew Jane better than that. Did she mean her affair with Rick was causing problems? That wasn’t so surprising. How do you run two men at the same time with so many other commitments? Never mind whether you should or not. If she were to have an affair, the secrecy would last for about two minutes before she blurted out something that would give her away. Believing in truth and transparency had its disadvantages.

  ‘Penny for them?’ Dan walked in from outside. ‘What’s been going on?’

  Kate was pleased to see him: the one apparently sane person there. ‘You’ve no idea.’

  ‘Then come outside and tell me. I saw Jack Walsh was here, but I decided I should keep my distance. Drink?’

  ‘I’d love a water. Although after today …’

  ‘Don’t worry, I’m not going to force you.’ His wink made her nothing but nervous.

  When he reappeared, carrying a bottle of water and one of beer, she had moved to beside the pool where she sat on a lounger. Somehow being away from the house out of the range of Amy and Linda felt more comfortable. Their experiences with Jack Walsh had bonded them and, now Jane had gone, being alone with them made her feel the odd one out. Instead she found herself wanting to confide in Dan and ask his advice. She felt a natural kinship with him. Whether that was because they’d known each other since childhood or because they simply clicked, she didn’t know. Whatever it was, she was enjoying it.

  ‘So, what’s going on?’ He stretched out on the lounger next to her, hands clasped behind his head.

  Under his T-shirt she could see his ribcage rising and falling with each breath. How badly she wanted to touch him, but of course never would.

  ‘What have I missed?’

  ‘Seems that Jack Walsh—’

  He stiffened at the name, sat up and picked up his beer. ‘We saw him this morning in the gallery and he was up here this afternoon. Amy seemed to have everything under control so I kept my distance.’

  ‘I don’t know what went on at the gallery but apparently he came up here to apologise, and it’s upset everyone. Jane’s left in a huff.’

  ‘What?’ The hint of a smile crept across his face. ‘So everyone’s true colours are coming out after all? That didn’t take long.’

  ‘It’s not like that.’ She wished she hadn’t said anything. ‘Jane’s got a lot on her plate at the moment and needs to be somewhere she can sort herself out. It’s got nothing to do with the rest of us.’

  ‘Do I really believe that?’ He tipped his head back and took a long swig of his beer. ‘I met Jack Walsh this morning. Nasty piece of work, although Linda seemed to have got his measure. I was impressed.’

  ‘She was always quite secretive.’ That must be the understatement of the century. An affair with Mr Wilson. Pregnant. How come none of them noticed? It seemed impossible.

  ‘I didn’t think he’d drive up here for a moment.’ His brow furrowed. ‘How was Amy?’

  ‘Angry.’ She watched him tap his fingers against the bottle again and again. ‘Unforgiving.’

  ‘Of course she was.’

  ‘There wasn’t anything you could have done. And perhaps it’s a good thing that she had the chance to confront him.’

  He grinned at her. ‘You’re such a thoughtful person. I love that about you.’

  Was she? Kate puzzled over his comment, wondering what he really meant.

  ‘Do you fancy having supper tonight? Just the two of us?’ His beer bottle scraped on the paving as he put it down.

  ‘Oh I don’t know …’ But that would be exactly how she’d like to spend
the evening, getting to know this intriguingly enigmatic man better. But, given it was their last night, she would run the risk of alienating Linda and Amy. But, but, but …

  He tipped his head to one side, his eyes fixed on her in a way that made her fizz with anticipation. ‘Up to you.’

  She closed her eyes, shutting out her surroundings. She pictured Alan, stocky, often muddy and tired from going out to find a lost ewe with the dogs, no fashion plate but reliable, solid – her man.

  ‘I should wait for the others,’ she said. ‘It’s our last night after all and Amy’s booked the table in Sóller. We’re having pintxos.’ She said it as though Amy hadn’t had to explain to her that pintxos were a version of tapas.

  ‘Then come for a drink first.’ He leaned forward so that when she opened her eyes they met his, washed-out blue like chips of sea glass. ‘Please.’

  ‘I should change,’ she said, swinging her legs round so her feet were on the ground and she was sitting up. But what harm could a drink do?

  ‘We could pop down to the village early and they can pick you up on the way. Go on. There’s something I want to ask you.’

  She imagined herself back on the motorbike, hanging on, wind against her face, pressed up to his back. But – she stopped herself – what did he want to ask her? As there couldn’t be a future in any kind of close relationship, he must just enjoy being with her. And, after the previous day, she could be confident it would be fun. But what would Amy and Linda think? She was old enough not to care. ‘OK. Give me ten minutes.’

  ‘Sure.’ He smiled and she could feel his eyes on her back as she walked up to the house.

  In her room, she showered quickly, finger-dried her hair, and paired the prettiest kaftan top she had brought with a pair of white linen trousers. The tight and tingly skin that went with being out in the sun too long put her in a holiday mood. She kept her make-up minimal and, as an afterthought, spritzed herself with cologne. Lime, Basil and Mandarin seemed in keeping with where they were.

  In the corridor, she hesitated then went to Amy’s room and knocked on the door.

  Amy was sitting on her bed, towel wrapped around her, phone in her hand. The room was beautiful: minimalist like the rest of the house, but the little touches that Amy was so famous for made all the difference. The only splash of colour in the room came from a pomegranate-patterned cushion cover in the off-white armchair, a couple of landscape paintings and the brass Moroccan pendant shade in the centre of the room. On the floor a faded antique rug covered varnished floorboards. A wooden heart hung from the bedside light. Otherwise everything was white, even the curtains that framed the window and the doors to a Juliet balcony.

  Amy looked up at her with such an expression of sadness that Kate crossed the room and hugged her, then pulled away.

  ‘Hi,’ Amy said quietly. ‘This has been quite a day.’

  ‘Are you OK?’ She looked anything but.

  ‘Not really. It’s Rob. I wasn’t going to say anything but I’ve told the others so I might as well tell you, too.’ Quickly she regaled Kate with story of her disintegrating marriage and Rob’s theft from the company. Kate listened, appalled. ‘He’s only paid back some of what he owes us. I gave him a month – perhaps that was unreasonable – but if he doesn’t repay us, we’re going to have to involve the police. That’s the last thing I want to do but it’s me or him.’ She smoothed the duvet cover with her right hand.

  Kate gasped. ‘You’re exaggerating.’ She sat on the bed beside her.

  ‘I wish I was.’ She stilled her hand. ‘So I’m just taking a few moments out to straighten out my head. But it sure puts everything else into perspective.’

  ‘Of course. Is there anything I can do?’

  ‘Short of killing Rob? I don’t think so, but thanks. This is something I need to sort out on my own.’ Amy stared at her hands, turning the thick gold band on her ring finger. ‘But you didn’t come in to hear that. I’m sorry.’

  ‘Don’t be silly. I just wish there was something I could do to help. But Dan’s asked me to go for a drink with him before dinner. I thought I would. Is that OK, though? I’ll happily stay if it would help.’

  ‘You’re getting on well.’ Amy looked enquiring.

  Kate forced an embarrassed laugh. ‘There’s nothing like that going on.’

  ‘I wasn’t suggesting there was or I’d be warning you off. Reliable he ain’t. But go, of course. We’ll pick you up on the way down.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ Kate didn’t want to leave her.

  Amy nodded. ‘Are you? He can be a bit of a Lothario, so watch yourself.’ Her eyebrows rose in warning.

  Heat rose to Kate’s cheeks. ‘I will. I’m just enjoying catching up with you both.’

  ‘Only teasing. No, go. You’re looking great. That green suits you.’

  Once on the bike, Kate realised her mistake in wearing the white trousers. By the time they dismounted at the village square, there was a long smear of oil on her inside calf. Dan took her to the bar on the opposite side from where she had sat that morning. Now it was doing a booming trade, filled with people who looked overdressed for dinner in such a modest place. They found a table and ordered two Aperol Spritz. The square was busy, illuminated by the orange street lamp on the church wall. Underneath it, a sign announced some kind of fiesta and a stage had been put up during the day. The bunting fluttered in the breeze.

  After their drinks arrived, Dan leaned towards her as if he was about to say something significant. Something gave way in the pit of her stomach.

  ‘You know how much I like you,’ he began.

  Oh God! She should have listened to Amy’s warning and stayed at the house. She didn’t and yet she so did want to be propositioned by him if only to remember what that felt like. What was wrong with a little harmless flirting? ‘No’ was a word that was available to her, she reminded herself. ‘Do you?’ she said, her voice a quaver.

  He looked shocked. ‘Of course I do. I remember you from when you had pigtails – how you’ve changed since then.’ He pulled in his chair as a family squeezed past him.

  ‘I should hope so. It would be sad if I hadn’t.’ With pigtails was not the way Kate had hoped to be remembered. Especially not by him. She would rather be thought of as the sultry one. Fat chance of that. She was more the everyday, jolly, sporty one to the others. However, at least she was remembered. That was better than not at all.

  ‘I feel our friendship’s developed over the last couple of days.’ He ran a finger back and forth over his lips as if considering what to say next.

  This was going much faster that she had expected. ‘Yes,’ she said, wishing something more articulate, more inviting had come to mind. But her focus was on his side of the conversation, not hers. There was burst of laughter from the stage where a band of children were attempting some acrobatics under the watchful eyes of their parents.

  For a moment, they stole his attention too, before he turned back to her. ‘So.’

  ‘So?’ she echoed. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘So you agree?’ He reached his hand across the table.

  She stared as if it was some sort of gigantic foreign insect. Should she take it? When she didn’t, he withdrew it again in favour of his glass.

  ‘I’m married,’ she said, her voice a nervous treble.

  ‘What?’ He jerked to attention and put his glass down, turning it in the wet on the table. ‘I know that. What’s that got to do with anything?’

  ‘I just thought …’ But what had she thought? Her heart was beating at a hundred miles a minute and that had obliterated any coherent thought process. She should never have put herself in this position. She had encouraged him and now, however she responded, they would both be embarrassed.

  ‘I brought you here because there’s something I want to ask you.’

  Could a pulse pump itself into a
standstill? If so, hers must be almost there. She composed herself, trying to look considered, interested. She lay her hands on the table so they looked steady.

  ‘You can say no, of course.’ His hand ran back over his head, stopping at the ponytail.

  Oh God, he actually was going to ask her if she … if she what? What should she say to him? What did she want to say? She felt as giddy as one of her daughters before a new date. As she turned her head to look at what was going on in the square again, she could feel the weight of Lara’s earrings as they swung with the movement. She was the one who had got herself into this situation, she would have to be the one who got herself out.

  ‘I’m wondering if you’d like …’ He paused as the same family as before squeezed past in the opposite direction having failed to find a table.

  ‘Yes?’ She felt breathless, almost faint, took a sip of her drink.

  ‘I’m wondering if you would …’ He looked down at his knees, as if he was bracing himself to say the next bit.

  She waited, apprehensive, expectant.

  ‘… lend me some money.’ He finished off. ‘I’d pay you back as soon as I could, of course.’

  She stared at him and began to laugh. Had he any idea what she had been expecting? They’d only known each other for two or three days, and how close she had come to making an absolute twit of herself. Of course he hadn’t been about to ask her, a married, sixty-year-old (just!) mother of four to embark on an affair. She looked down at herself: the top that strained across her bust, her stomach almost resting on her thighs, the slick of oil on her white trousers, two bunions and orange-sherbert nail varnish. She was no catch – even to the most fertile imagination.

  ‘What’s so funny?’ He sounded hurt, confused.

  ‘Nothing. It’s just that I thought …’ But she couldn’t control her laughter as she watched light dawn in his face.

  ‘Oh no, you didn’t think I …’ His appalled and amused expression said everything, but he wasn’t laughing.

  Time to retrieve her dignity. ‘What do you mean?’ She pretended to cotton on, raising her hands in denial. ‘Heavens no.’