by Mandy Baggot
‘Come on,’ Heidi said. ‘Let me have a go.’
‘This is my hand we’re talking about,’ Beth said, leaning back a little in her chair. ‘It’s not a controller for an Xbox.’
‘Well,’ Heidi said. ‘You’re not a heart surgeon and you don’t operate Sooty so…’ She leant across the table, almost knocking the salt and pepper over with her chest.
‘No more wine for you,’ Beth said, scooting her chair back quickly.
‘I get what this is,’ Heidi stated, sitting back down and quickly refilling her wine glass with more from the carafe. ‘You don’t want to take the ring off.’
Beth laughed, but it came out all wrong. It sounded forced and unnatural and a bit like Alan Carr. ‘Don’t be absurd.’
‘Now you sound like Charles.’
‘Heidi, I’ve been separated so long I can… barely remember what it was like to be married.’ That wasn’t true. A twin-pack of partridge used in one meal. A toilet roll lasting less than a week. Arguing over the best way to cook asparagus… actually she didn’t miss that last one.
‘It’s a delayed reaction,’ Heidi continued. ‘You didn’t deal with the split when it happened and now you’ve got the certificate, everything has finally hit home.’
Beth shook her head. ‘I’m fine.’
‘And you’re really going to stay working at Mountbatten Global? When the whole world is out there for you?’ Heidi swilled the wine round in her glass, the movement dismissing a lingering mosquito.
‘I don’t know,’ Beth said. ‘I gave up looking when I didn’t make the cut at Carruthers.’ After that interview, which she had thought had gone so well, the flat ‘no’ with little feedback she’d received had really hit her hard. She had even considered whether Charles knew she was looking elsewhere and was somehow sabotaging her exit strategy. But she had decided he wouldn’t be that cruel. She simply had to face it. She wasn’t good enough or focused enough for anybody else.
‘Is it for the money? Or is it because it keeps you close to Charles?’ Heidi asked.
‘That’s ridiculous.’
‘Is it?’ Heidi asked, her voice sounding way too convinced. ‘Because, believe me, I’ve written the book on trying to hang on to exes when they’ve already made it clear I’m old news.’
‘I don’t remember you being that bad with exes.’
‘Rachel from the blanket-making charity?’ Heidi said, clearing her throat and taking a slug of wine.
‘Heidi, you weren’t really going to sell your flat and move to Ethiopia.’
‘I bloody was,’ Heidi admitted. ‘And it was Namibia, actually. Honest to God, I signed up with Purple Bricks and everything.’
‘God.’ How had she missed that? ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘I did tell you. I don’t think you believed me. You and Charles were going out a lot with that client who owns the racehorses.’
Beth shuddered. She had gone to so many race meetings that summer she knew more about form than John McCririck. And hanging out with the jockeys had made her feel really tall but also really fat…
‘Yeah and then there was Martina who ran the Polish food shop. I learnt how to make traditional Polish meals and turned up at her door every night for a week trying to woo her back.’
‘Heidi…’
‘It’s no wonder I turned to dating apps and one-night hook-ups.’ She sucked in a breath. ‘But I’m just saying that perhaps you haven’t done your proper relationship-ending-grieving bit yet and it’s all part of the process. I’m not saying you need to make Polish recipes or move to Africa but if you’re holding onto that ring because you can’t bear to let it go then…’
‘It isn’t that,’ Beth said. It wasn’t that, was it?
‘No?’
‘No.’
‘Well, what would your mum think about the whole thing? You letting Charles keep everything. You being all calm and collected with Kendra.’
Now Beth felt her resolve weaken and the Greek sun on her shoulders wasn’t enough to stop the chill invading her bones. She tried not to think about what her mum would think of it all. The reason she had held on so hard and put up with Charles’s extra-marital activities for so long was her mum. When her mum had died – peacefully and finally free from the pain of the cancer – apart from the deep, core-corroding grief, there had been a sense of relief. But it didn’t entirely stem from the weight of the daily private hospital visits or the constant worry that the phone was going to ring in the middle of the night with the news she knew was one day coming. It was a relief that, through it all, she had managed to hold things together, keep up the pretence that she was living an idyllic existence as Mrs Mountbatten. Except, even after everything since her mum’s death – the funeral, the Grant of Probate being finalised – moving on and accepting Charles’s infidelity and calling him out on it, still felt wrong. Her mum had died knowing she was happy, safe, secure, married. Changing all that meant finally breaking her carefully created bubble.
‘Mum loved Charles,’ Beth answered.
‘Did she?’
‘Of course she did,’ Beth said. ‘Everyone loves Charles.’
‘Everyone loves Charles’s money.’
‘Heidi, that’s not true.’
‘Isn’t it? Because if he hadn’t been married to you and if he wasn’t my boss, he wouldn’t be someone I’d want to bother spending time with. He’s all… antique-y and art gallery-y.’
‘He’s got lots of interests,’ Beth said. ‘One of the last dates we had we went to Arsenal.’
Heidi closed her eyes and held a breath. ‘He has a hospitality box. Meaning the closest you got to a Pukka pie was breathing the faint aroma as you walked towards your complimentary champagne and a plate of foie gras and rocket. For most people that isn’t real life.’
‘This is my husband we’re talking about.’
What had she just said? Instinctively her cheeks took on colour like someone had drawn all over them with a thick-nibbed red Sharpie.
‘Was my husband,’ Beth corrected. ‘I meant “was”.’ Charles was with Kendra now. He’d cheated on her without so much as a bat of his blond eyelashes. She had barely recognised that Charles – the man who had listened to her and held her hand so tenderly, when she had spilled her heart out about her mother’s cancer diagnosis.
Beth had only been at Mountbatten Global for a few weeks before the devasting news that her mum’s cancer was Stage 3 had hit. She was still finding her feet, using every free minute she had during lunch hours and after work to complete the online training contained in the on-the-job learning package, but the fact her mum was about to start even more robust treatment was overriding her ability to function. Charles had caught her in a particularly weak moment, halfway between a box of man-size tissues and a section onscreen entitled ‘Retirement Provision – The Bible’. It had only taken a comment from the CEO on the fact she was working later than anyone else and Beth had dissolved into tears – the kind that could have flooded the world and Noah’s ark. Initially, she hadn’t had the emotional strength to be embarrassed. But, after Charles’s hand found hers – reassuring and comforting – and his soft words gently fell into her ears as he sat down next to her, she had come to and realised this was her boss. And not just her boss. The boss of the whole company.
She had been embarrassed. Future executives hoping for their own portfolio of clients didn’t break down under personal stress, no matter how dire the consequences. They womaned-up. Except Charles almost admonished her for this, claiming that everyone needed an outlet for whatever personal anxiety they were suffering and why not let him be hers. And that was how it all began. Charles had taken her out for dinner that night – a Japanese/Colombian fusion (who knew?) – and she had bared her soul under the influence of a spicy and particularly alcoholic version of sake. It became their thing. Working late, meeting ‘by chance’, then dining at whatever new eating establishment Charles had ‘heard excellent things about’. Within three shor
t months, Beth had been promoted to a next level position with clients of her own – under Charles’s personal guidance – and in that same Japanese/Colombian restaurant, with waiters playing biwas and bandolas, Charles had proposed. With what Beth had thought was sincere and complete honesty, he had promised her the world on a rare antique plate and, more importantly, the absolute assurance that Rosa, her mum, would no longer have her vital treatment through the NHS and that before they had set a date for the engagement party, Rosa would be under the care of the very best private hospital. Charles was her white knight – literally, with his pale complexion and ash-coloured hair – and the only acceptable answer in this scenario had been ‘yes’. But that was then…
‘Give me your hand,’ Heidi urged, again picking up the bottle of oil and shaking it, thumb over the top.
Beth held both her hands together. She wasn’t sure she could do it. But why? It was over. Definitely, completely over.
‘Excuse me,’ the waiter said, arriving at their table, all dark eyes and slicked-back hair. ‘You would like dessert?’
‘Oh, no thank you,’ Beth said quickly, her belly still bursting.
‘Let’s not be too hasty,’ Heidi said, smiling up at the man. ‘What do you have?’
‘Without the glutens?’ the waiter asked, sending Beth the heaviest and most obvious of winks.
Beth cleared her throat. ‘Perhaps just some ice cream?’
‘With cake,’ Heidi added. ‘Something with chocolate.’
‘I thought we were filling ourselves with healthy options on this break.’
‘Well, seeing as I’ve already eaten a week’s worth of gluten in that bread, why stop now?’ She hadn’t been fooled. Damn.
‘Ice cream and cake. Very good,’ the waiter said, stepping away.
Heidi’s phone vibrated on the table and she looked to the screen.
‘Is it work?’ Beth asked, concern coating her tone. They had left in a bit of a hurry. She had delegated a number of urgent tasks to Tilly, but Tilly had had her head in a copy of Heat magazine and her fingers wrapped round a tuna bap while she’d been running through her handover notes. To be fair it had been lunchtime and Tilly hadn’t had a full lunch hour all week…
‘Do you think I would tell you if it was?’ Heidi asked, flipping her phone over so it was screen down.
‘Why not?’
‘Because I can see now that your situation is even more critical than mine.’ Heidi gulped down the remainder of her wine. ‘You need this holiday to get Charles completely out of your system.’
Beth didn’t know what to say. There were too many echoes of truth, as much as she didn’t want to admit it. It was just the fear of change… and the thought of Kendra probably rearranging all her erratically stacked kitchen cupboards.
‘The text was from this Aleko. Apparently, a Greek “later” means about six o’clock tonight.’ Heidi picked up her phone. ‘Shall I tell him to bring some metal cutters for that ring?’
Beth took a breath then put her hands out across the table. ‘Put the oil on it. But, please, don’t pull too hard.’
Nine
Paralia View, Almyros Beach
‘It’s almost seven o’ clock,’ Beth remarked, slipping her sunglasses down from her eyes.
They were both laying on the blue sun loungers on the sand outside the back of the little beach house. Having finished the wine at the taverna and indulged in thick, rich chocolate cake and hazelnut ice cream they had taken a slow walk back to their holiday home. Admiring the village houses and small white-painted hotels, they had marvelled at a fat, hairy orange striped caterpillar that was wiggling up the road, and followed the flight of a bright-winged dragonfly. Then, tired from the flight and the alcohol, they had changed into beachwear and quickly sun-creamed. Heidi had dropped straight into a lounger and snoozed in the sunshine, while Beth had walked out onto the sand, breathing in the glorious heat of the day and scouring the beach for gems of sea glass like she used to. So far, she had come up empty, but she had found some perfectly smooth white pebbles and others with tiny holes speckling their diameter, the indents probably made by tiny fish or baby crabs. The seashore always seemed to hold a plethora of riches and whatever Beth found she was going to use to make something, here or when she returned home. Being here was evoking all kinds of long forgotten memories…
‘We’re on holiday,’ Heidi said, her voice a faint slur. ‘We don’t have to do anything at any specific time.’
‘I know, Heidi, but wasn’t the handyman meant to be coming here at six o’clock?’ When she had finally settled onto a sun lounger, Beth hadn’t really snoozed as well as Heidi. Her wedding ring was well and truly still in place and her friend’s questioning about it over lunch had thrown her a bit. If the olive-oil trick had worked what would she have done with the ring? Would she have zipped it up in her suitcase? Thrown it into the sea? Or put it back on?
‘Mmm… did Flo’s uncle leave any wine with that welcome pack?’
‘No, and we’re going to have to think about getting some proper shopping soon. Two bottles of water, some milk and a few sachets of coffee aren’t going to see us through until the morning.’
‘Ooh, are you making coffee?’
‘Where did the joining instructions say the nearest supermarket was?’
‘I’ll have a coffee if you’re making one.’
Beth sat up on her lounger and took a breath. She needed to try and relax but tension was eating up her shoulders like she had been hunched over a keyboard all day. Did she even know how to relax any more? How did you lie down and let your mind just drift? And how did she manage to forget her hair straighteners?
‘Hello! Excuse me!’ a voice called from the house.
‘Heidi!’ Beth hissed. ‘Heidi, wake up. It’s the handyman and I don’t know anything that you’ve discussed with Flo. Wake up and help me!’
*
Maybe there wasn’t anyone in. Alex decided to get some tools from his car and then try the door once more before letting himself in with his key. Work with the letting company was sporadic. Most of the time it was small maintenance jobs. They had perhaps thirty properties in the immediate vicinity that he could get called to at any moment. Most days there was little. Other times there were several calls in one day that he had to work around his hours at the hire car company and their smallholding. The chickens didn’t get too vocal if their food was late, the goats on the other hand could create a lot of noise and were known to escape if they got really hungry. The only thing the varied job roles did supply was a degree of escape. If he gave in to his mother’s idea of working with his Uncle Fotis he would be well and truly locked in to the island. That was another reason for the kumquat idea. It was his and Elektra’s. They were in charge of what happened next…
Alex had always liked this tiny cottage on the beach. It wasn’t so different to the house he shared with his mother, but it was closer to the ocean. He loved the sea, but his time for swimming and enjoying it was more limited than ever. So many things he loved he seemed to no longer have the capacity for. But it was going to change. It had to change.
He grabbed his tool bag and closed the boot of the car.
‘Hello! Mr Handyman Aleko. We’ve been waiting for you!’
The woman was tall with blonde hair falling out of a messy bun on top of her head. A purple tie-dye patterned sarong was round her bikini. Something about her seemed familiar…
‘I am sorry I am late.’ He walked towards the woman.
‘I’m Heidi.’
‘Aleko,’ he answered.
She smiled. ‘Do you have a sister by any chance?’
‘No,’ he replied, a little confused.
‘Never mind,’ Heidi said. ‘It’s just inside the door. We opened it up and the whole thing came down… boom! Dust and plaster everywhere. We’ve swept it up but, you know, we don’t want any more coming down or the roof starting to leak if it rains.’ She put a hand on his arm. ‘It won’t rain, will it? I
mean, it never rains on Corfu, does it?’
‘All of the winter time,’ Alex answered. Then, as he stepped over the threshold, he looked up. ‘Wow.’
‘I don’t like the sound of that “wow”,’ Heidi said. ‘I mean, it’s not my ceiling so it isn’t going to cost me a fortune, but that sounded very much like it’s going to take you hours and hours to fix it.’
‘I cannot fix it,’ Alex answered.
‘What?!’
‘This is a big job,’ he explained. ‘It is going to mean the ceiling is taken down and completely replaced.’
‘Oh my God, really?’ Heidi said. ‘I thought you were just going to patch it up a bit.’
He shook his head, but his eyes were no longer on the bare struts under the flaking plasterboard, they were gazing through the property and out onto the beach. A light brown-haired woman was moving across the sand, coming towards the house, a beach towel over her arm. All at once, every sense he owned was on high alert. This wasn’t just an attractive woman he was appreciating. The way she moved, the tilt of her head, it was an echo from the past…
‘What are we going to do then?’ Heidi asked him.
He ignored the question. ‘You have been to Corfu before?’ He could barely get the words out of his mouth, everything felt dry and his throat was scratchy.
‘Er, yes, we have actually, but it was a long time ago.’
‘You stayed in Sidari.’
It wasn’t a question. Because he knew. He knew before the other woman got close enough for him to see in minute detail those features he had never forgotten. Her petite face, the tiny nose above lips that could shape the brightest smile.
‘We did… how did you know?’ Heidi asked.
*
Beth let out a gasp as she came back into the house, the towel falling from her arm and down on the floor. This could not be happening. It was crazy. She was seeing things. It was the change in light, coming from the outside to the darker inside. Maybe she was still wearing her sunglasses? She almost poked herself in the eye trying to find out. She closed her eyes then opened them again. No change. She was still standing a few metres away from her holiday romance from ten years ago. Alex Hallas. Lex.