by Mandy Baggot
Fifty-One
Agni
‘Did you know,’ Heidi began, ‘that sex is the best cure for a hangover? Now, don’t say anything yet. I, myself, was dubious to begin with but after—’
‘Well, I don’t really think I need to hear the rest of the sentence,’ Beth interrupted, trying to focus on the road.
She was driving them back to the villa at Agni. Having picked Heidi up from their cottage where Heidi and Elektra had spent the night on the ground of the beach garden, underneath sheets tied across the washing line and the edge of the terrace roof. The friends had decided that staying with Charles any longer was completely inappropriate. It was only going to give him false hope of a second chance with Beth and that was never going to happen. Once they had packed their cases up Beth was going to tell him straight. She wanted to stay divorced. She was leaving Mountbatten Global. She was selling her mother’s house. It was over. Completely over.
‘I was going to say,’ Heidi began again. ‘After looking it up on Google, Elektra was right. It’s all about the feel-good endorphins and my endorphins are partying like it’s Happy Hour right now.’
‘I’m taking it, by your joyous nature, and the fact Elektra kissed you with every part of her face before we left, that last night went well.’
‘It went very well,’ Heidi breathed, adjusting her sunglasses and stretching an arm up to the open top of the car as if she might catch the sunshine. ‘And I love the way she screams “Heidi”. So much cooler than if she was screaming “Henri”.’
‘I’m really happy for you,’ Beth told her, smiling.
‘And I’m really happy for you too,’ Heidi replied.
‘What?’
‘Come on… don’t give me that. Elektra said you may have been wrapped up in a blanket looking all sweet and innocent and asleep last night but she’s convinced you were naked underneath there.’
It was pointless to blush. It had been a perfect night. She had no regrets.
‘You know when you almost forget what an orgasm is like,’ Beth spoke quickly.
‘No,’ Heidi sighed. ‘Sorry… because the three I had in quick succession will take a lot to erase from my mind and I really don’t want to let them go, either.’
Beth shook her head, smiling. ‘Well, I’ll never forget again. That’s one promise I’m making myself going forward. The nunhood is not for me.’
‘I hear you, sister.’ Heidi sighed as Beth pulled the car into the vast drive of the five-star rental property. ‘Now you just need to convince Charles that Mrs Mountbatten is definitely not for you either.’
‘Yes,’ Beth answered. ‘I do.’
‘Or rather you don’t,’ Heidi added with a sigh.
‘Yes.’
She sat still in the driving seat, looking across the plaka stone paving towards the sea beyond the perimeter of the property trying to let the relaxing blue seep into her soul. That was what she wanted moving forward. It was definitely time for her to be her own boss, in business and in life.
‘Do I need to open my door first?’ Heidi asked, turning her head to look at Beth.
‘No,’ Beth said, a little brighter. ‘No, let’s go.’ She opened her door and got down from the Jimny. As she slammed the door the front door to the villa burst open and there was Charles, strutting across the stone towards them. His mobile phone was pressed to his ear and he was talking as he walked.
‘She is here… yes, they are both here… no, there will not be anything else, Tilly, thank you.’
Tilly.
‘Thank God!’ Charles exclaimed, raising arms to the heavens as if a miracle had been performed. ‘I was running out of options!’
‘Options?’ Beth queried.
‘I’m going to go and have a shower while you have what will hopefully be a productive discussion,’ Heidi said. She took a step forward then turned back to Beth. ‘You’ll be OK?’
Beth nodded. ‘Yes.’
‘I have been worried sick about you, Beth,’ Charles continued as Heidi walked away and into the villa.
‘I’m sorry I didn’t reply to your messages earlier last night, but you did know I was going to a party.’ She moved, heading towards the wrought iron gate that led to the beautiful outside area at the back of the villa and the amazing pool and views. It would be better to have this conversation against a great backdrop. If anything could ease the tension a little it would be the Greek scenery. It was all kinds of special.
‘Correction!’ Charles held up a finger, trying to head her off as she stepped onto the patio area and made her way to the large glass-topped table. ‘I knew you were taking Heidi to a party.’
‘I was invited too, and it wasn’t a private party,’ Beth said, pulling out a chair. ‘It was an open party, on the beach, with a DJ and drinks and everyone dancing on the sand.’ Talking about last night was bringing back all those memories of bouncing around unbridled by decision-making.
‘And the party went on all night?’ Charles looked at his watch as if to emphasise the point. She knew what time it was. Almost midday. She and Alex had shared a monster breakfast and tea at Pirates Bar. They had held hands across the table, talked about her finding more sea glass while she was in Corfu, planning a trip back to Rovinia Beach, the kumquat branding and Alex’s hotel opportunity, and about his big night tonight at The Vault. It was easy and relaxed… it wasn’t being shouted at like she was a child.
‘Where did you stay?’ Charles carried on.
‘On the beach,’ Beth answered.
‘Well,’ Charles said, shaking a finger at her. ‘Did you know it is illegal to camp on a beach unless it has a designated area for campers.’
Beth sighed. This had to stop.
‘Charles,’ Beth said. ‘Let’s sit down and talk.’ She pulled out a second chair, hoping he would take the hint.
‘I wanted to talk last night,’ Charles reminded. ‘With a lovely bottle of wine and artisan cheese.’
‘I know,’ Beth told him. ‘But last night, I think you wanted to try and persuade me to give our relationship another go and I didn’t think it was fair to give you false hope.’ She drew breath. ‘Which was one of the reasons I didn’t come back last night.’
Charles quietened for a moment, his eyes glazing over. He put one hand on the spare chair and lowered his body into it. Once he was sitting, Beth sat down too, the solid table between them reminding her of the boardroom desk at Charles’s solicitors when they were discussing their divorce. In fact, quite a lot of their courtship had had solid wooden tables between them, perhaps it had been foreshadowing…
‘False hope,’ Charles said, tone definitely weakened.
‘Charles, we’re divorced. It took us a long time to get divorced. You’re in a relationship with Kendra. She’s living in our house…’
‘No,’ Charles said, defiant again, caught between pointing at her and pulling his crisp white shirt away from his sweating form. ‘No, Kendra is not living there like you assume. She may have stayed there from time to time, on the occasional evening, and moved a few personal items in to make staying the occasional evening more amenable to her commuting in good time to the office but—’
‘Charles, it doesn’t matter to me that Kendra is living with you now. It doesn’t even matter to me that you had an affair with Kendra, and the other women—’
‘What?’ Charles exclaimed.
No, she had never actually called Charles on his other extra-marital activity that lasted as long as whatever business trip he was taking part in in whatever corner of Europe. He had come back to the marriage. It had been comfortable. She had ignored it.
‘Beth, I… don’t know what to say,’ he admitted, looking a little embarrassed.
‘Charles, I’ve done a lot of thinking while I’ve been in Corfu and the one thing I know I have to be is truthful.’
‘You have always been truthful,’ Charles said, the sea breeze ruffling his blond hair a little. ‘It is me who has done despicable things.’
&
nbsp; ‘No, Charles, I did the most despicable thing,’ Beth said sadly. ‘I married you… when I didn’t love you.’
It hurt to say it. It was something she was incredibly uncomfortable with. She forced herself to look him in the eye, to make him see that she was taking ownership for that failure, that everything wasn’t on him.
‘Oh, Beth,’ Charles said with the heaviest of sighs. ‘Do you think I did not know that?’
She blinked. He had known? All along? That when she said she loved him she hadn’t meant it? Now she almost felt worse.
‘I know I force people into doing things,’ Charles continued. ‘That’s what I’ve always done. Because no one really wants to do anything with me unless they’re coerced. My parents didn’t. Why should anyone else? And I wanted you. You are beautiful and bright, and I wanted a wife like that. God knows I didn’t have a chance of getting one without a little bribery and… I used your mother’s illness as my in.’
She didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t loved her either. Had she really known that deep down? Was Charles even capable of love in the traditional sense? Or was he simply a collector of females like he was a collector of treasures from around the world?
‘But things have changed for me now, Beth. I don’t feel like I felt before,’ Charles carried on. ‘I do love you. I’ve looked love up and in most of its definitions it talks about “a strong feeling of affection” and “pleasure for something”. I have all those things for you.’
Beth closed her eyes and shook her head. Charles had still needed reference notes.
‘I know I am not very good at showing my feelings. I know I can be harsh and a little self-centred but everything I do is, ultimately, in my way, to try and make our lives better.’ He looked up, eyes more alive. ‘We should have a holiday.’
‘I’m on holiday,’ Beth reminded. ‘And so are you… unless you’ve reported it as some sort of work reconnaissance.’
‘I’m talking about together,’ Charles continued. ‘A holiday together. Wherever you would like to go. How about Japan? I’ve heard it is a real full-on cultural experience. We could do a sushi-making experience and… ride one of those bullet trains and… wear kimonos.’
She needed to be blunt. His daydreaming about the future had to stop quickly.
‘Of course, it doesn’t have to be Japan. That was not me trying to be controlling. It could be anywhere you want.’
‘Charles,’ Beth said. ‘Our relationship is over. Really over. Divorced is divorced and… I don’t want that status to change.’
‘No,’ he answered, half-sad, half-mad.
‘I’m sorry, Charles, but I want to start my life over. It’s something I should have got to a lot earlier and I can’t waste any more time. So, I am resigning from Mountbatten Global and… I will be selling the house.’ She looked at him, waiting to see the total realisation hit. But there was no change in his expression at all.
‘I want us to have a baby,’ Charles blurted out.
‘What?!’ Beth exclaimed. Now she really was shellshocked.
‘I know you want children and neither of us is getting any younger.’ He stood up and went to her then, picking up her hand and kneeling beside her like he was about to propose. ‘You don’t have to work. You can be a full-time mummy. And we can have a beautiful little person to adore and make a family with.’
Beth let his hand go and stood up herself. ‘Did nothing I just said sink in? How could you want to have a baby with someone who doesn’t love you?’ she asked. ‘Having a baby isn’t about ticking a box because we’re in our thirties. It’s about making a family when you’re in a relationship with someone you love. We’ve just said that neither of us love each other.’
‘I told you I love you now,’ Charles insisted. ‘The Collins English dictionary definition.’
‘I don’t love you, Charles,’ Beth reiterated.
‘Well,’ he started, getting up off the floor, indignant. ‘You can’t have loved that Greek guy you thought you were pregnant by in 2009 but you said, if you had been, you would have kept the baby.’ His eyes were sharp now, accusing. ‘And what then? What would your life have been like then?’
Beth was floored. Totally floored. How did Charles think that bringing up something she had told him from her heart when she was drunk and sad about her mother was the way to reconciliation? She stepped back from him, anger pulsing through her body.
‘Listen to me,’ she spat. ‘Because this is the last time we are going to speak in person. Every communication from now on, I will have with the HR team with regard to my position at Mountbatten Global. We are over. O-V-E-R. I didn’t want us to part with any animosity, but you have made it impossible for me now.’ She took an edifying breath before carrying on. ‘I know that I couldn’t have had my mother with me for as long if I hadn’t married you, but that should not have meant I was indebted to you for all of eternity when you chose to sleep around. I gave you everything I had to give. I tried so hard throughout our marriage at great personal sacrifice – my needs, my dreams, my love of Tesco Value chocolate spread, not that horrible hazelnut and cacao – and my freedom. I was always, always there for you – entertaining clients at rugby matches, being civil to the bitches married to the executives you brought home for dinners, the… fake skiing! But I’m done now, Charles, and I’ve been done for quite some time, and the fact that you think throwing a baby into the mix like it’s this year’s must-have accessory is going to make me fall into your arms is just hideous.’ She was shaking but she had to get it all out. ‘But what is more despicable is the fact you would throw something I told you so long ago back into my face in a bid to prove some sort of point…’ She couldn’t say any more. Her anger was fierce.
‘Beth,’ Charles said. ‘I wasn’t thinking straight, I thought…’
‘I don’t care what you thought,’ Beth snapped back. ‘Do you hear that? I don’t care! But what you should care about, going forward, if you ever get to have a proper, real future with anybody other than your accountant is that… love shouldn’t have to be looked up on Google and… that Greek guy from 2009. I did love him. I loved him more than anything… and I still love him now!’
There was nothing left to be said. Breathing hard, she looked at Charles one last time before turning away from him and rushing towards the house. She was going to pack her case and as soon as Heidi was out of the shower, she was driving them both out of Agni.
Fifty-Two
Alex and Margalo Hallas’s home, Almyros
Alex was rushing. Again. Toula had had him driving all round the north of the island since he had arrived, when he could have done with a few hours in the office. The only plus had been being able to listen to music in the cars, pinpointing tracks he could add to the set he had outlined. He was still, in some respects, going to perform on the fly. Last night’s set at the beach party had given him an injection of confidence he had sorely needed… and then there was his night with Beth. His body was still zinging from sex, his soul singing an octave or two higher. It had made everything a whole lot brighter today. Now there was a voicemail on his mobile from Sophia at the hotel in Dassia. She wanted a sample of the nutrition bar as soon as possible. The hotel was planning a well-being month and if Alex wanted in on that he needed to come up with the Kalm Life goods in six weeks. He felt both sick and excited about it. His plan for the afternoon was to take a sample of the health bar to Sophia, help Elektra make more of them when he got back, speak to his friend Ugo about a premises previously used for the production of cereal and try and speed everything kumquat along a little bit more. After he had fed his mother.
He banged through the front door of the house then stopped, a little in shock. Margalo was at the stove, something sizzling in a pan, something else bubbling in a pot. She was more animated than Alex had seen her in months, moving to stir first one pot and then the other.
‘Mama,’ he greeted. ‘I know I am late but…’
‘You did not come home last night,�
�� Margalo interrupted, her back still to him. Her hair had been brushed and tamed into a ponytail. She was wearing her best black cardigan over a grey floral dress, proper shoes on her feet.
‘I know. I…’
‘Sit down, Aleko,’ she ordered. ‘The keftedes are almost ready.’
She had cooked. Meatballs. When was the last time she had made meatballs? Saying nothing else, he did as she had asked and drew up a seat at the table.
‘You work today?’ she asked, getting out plates.
‘Yes,’ he answered. ‘Toula has kept me busy. I have been as far as Barbati.’
‘And this afternoon? You work again?’
What could he say? He couldn’t tell her anything about the kumquats yet. He wanted to only tell her when he was handing her a pile of euro to pay the bills with – when a full-scale, professional production was completely in place.
‘Yes,’ he said simply.
‘Well, that is no good,’ Margalo told him, serving up steaming spaghetti, then the meatballs in a thick red sauce. ‘When will you have time to practise your spinning of the records?’
Alex swallowed. What was his mother actually saying? Was this a trick? Some sort of trap he was about to fall headlong in to? He settled on saying nothing at all.
‘It is tonight? Your show at the nightclub in Sidari,’ Margalo carried on. ‘There are posters.’
‘Yes,’ he replied. She turned round and put a plate of food in front of him. It smelled so delicious, of fresh herbs and succulent tomatoes. His stomach begged him to taste.
‘Then you need time to practise,’ Margalo told him.
He didn’t understand. His mother’s tone was conciliatory not confrontational. What had happened? Was it real?
‘Your Uncle Fotis heard you last night,’ Margalo stated, sitting down opposite him. ‘He was at the beach bar in Roda, a late-night drink after practice for a band he is joining.’ She shook her head. ‘He is sixty-five years old. The only band he should be involved in is one they put round your arm to monitor blood pressure.’
Alex spooned a meatball into his mouth, not really knowing how to respond. Lately he had always felt so guarded in conversations with his mother and since her outburst about his father in the field, everything was still a little bit awkward.