‘He was here earlier.’
‘My God!’ shouted her mum. ‘You’re not trying to be friends again, are you?’
‘Calm down, Myra,’ whispered her stepfather in the background.
‘No, Mum. He’s just being a pain. But can we not talk about him?’
‘Lovely bracelets,’ said Tara, pushing her face into view.
‘Oh these ...’ Alice shook them at the screen. ‘I made them. I sell them through some stalls. I’ve got this idea now, too. I’m going to sell them on the web. Set up a site.’
‘Fab idea!’ said Tara.
The screen began to fuzz over. ‘I’ve got something to —’ But the connection went dead.
‘Oh,’ said Alice. ‘They’ve gone.’
‘Nice idea though,’ said Kathy. ‘It was mine.’
Alice hugged her. ‘I love you,’ she said. ‘Did you mention to Mary what was going on in any e-mails at all?’
‘No. I’ve not contacted her for a while to be honest. Why?’
‘Just got a bunch of flowers and a cryptic message for my birthday.’
‘Mystic Mary strikes again.’ Kathy laughed as Carlos handed Alice another full glass of champagne.
‘Drink up, birthday girl,’ he said.
She took a sip just before Ignacio pulled her towards the edge of the tables for a dance.
‘My song!’ he shouted into her ear. ‘What a Wonderful World.’
Alice laughed again, but as she looked up, she felt a chill down her back. Marcella and her friends were standing near the statue, disdain oozing from their every pore.
Alice hugged Ignacio. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered, ‘for being such a good friend.’
For the next hour, despite Adam’s attempts to upset her, and Marcella’s brief appearance, Alice relaxed and enjoyed being with people who cared about her. She drank and ate and laughed, wanting the evening to go on forever so she wouldn’t have to deal with the real life waiting for her in the morning.
Kathy glanced at her watch. ‘I know it’s quite early o'clock for me, but I am so tired, Alice. Is it okay if I go now? I’ve got to work tomorrow and every day is quite a struggle at the moment.’
Alice put her glass down and grabbed her friend. ‘Don’t be silly, silly. Thank you for coming. It’s been wonderful.’
‘Where is Luis? I’d feel much better about going if he was here.’
‘God, he is late isn’t he? I’ll call him now. Don’t worry. I’m fine here with Ignacio and Carlos, and my friend Felipe, the busker.’
Stephano picked up his coat. ‘Thank you for giving me a kick up the backside, Alice,’ he said. As they left, Alice scanned the square once again for Luis. Then she called him but it went to voicemail.
‘Hi it’s me. Are you okay? It’s just you were supposed to be here over two hours ago. I’m still here, but I’m just going to have a quick walk around to stretch my legs. My table’s the one with the man with the guitar next to it. See you soon. Hopefully…’ She turned to Ignacio. ‘I’m getting some fresh air.’
‘But you are outside already!’
‘I know but I’m going to a different outside.’
She walked towards the beach and paused, enjoying the silver slithers of moonlight on the water. The ice cream booth was still open, so she bought herself a chocolate cone and sat on a bench.
‘If I sit totally still and look into the distance,’ she said to herself, ‘I will look like I’m in a painting entitled “Lady sitting near a beach with ice cream cone with two scoops” or “Enigmatic woman stares at the sea” or “It is dark but the stars make it light” or “Woman at a crossroads not literally but figuratively” or “The woman in blue” or “Woman wondering where her boyfriend is”.’ Melted ice cream began to seep onto her fingers as she gazed at the horizon absently. Strange evening, she thought. Started well, went a bit badly – thank you Adam – improved immensely again – thank you all – now a bit stale – thank you Luis. She stood up and stretched. ‘Time to go back to my table,’ she said, checking her phone again. Still no messages.
‘Has he not got here yet?’
Alice turned around. Marcella was walking towards her flanked by two po-faced friends.
‘I thought he’d be here by now,’ she said. ‘I need to speak to him. Is he still with my aunt?’
‘Your aunt?’ said Alice, confused.
‘He must still be with her? Didn’t they arrange to meet at that ruined old house he is doing up?’
Alice shivered again, uneasily. ‘He’s late. He’s already contacted me to tell me.’ Alice wished she could just turn on her heels and exit the scene coolly and serenely, but her feet remained rooted to the spot and the words had continued to come out of her mouth. ‘He’ll be here soon.’
‘She’s been interfering in my life. Talking to my father. Making things difficult for me.’
‘I’m sorry. I’m not sure what this had got to do with me. I’m going back to my friends. Goodbye,’ said Alice, flustered, standing up and walking away.
Disappearing into the crowds Alice detoured up a narrow side street, trying to calm down before she returned to the square, angry with herself for allowing some young woman she hardly knew to knock her off balance. Walking down an alley between two apartment blocks she found herself on the sea road, and as she turned into the square she found herself face to face with a very angry looking Antonio.
‘Where is he?’ he snarled.
Alice stepped back, surprised. ‘If you mean Luis, he’s on his way,’ she said slowly.
Antonio glared at her. ‘This is your doing isn’t it? Him trying to leave the band again. Letting me down.’
Alice tried to walk past him. ‘It’s nothing to do with me,’ she said.
He grabbed her arm. ‘He’ll be back. He always is.’
She prised his arm away and hurried away. ‘He’s probably still with Susannah,’ he shouted after her. ‘Because that’s what he’s like.’
Alice wanted to scream. Stop, stop, stop. Leave me alone. Just leave me alone. But as she began to rush on her phone pinged. Then again. Then again. The first message was from Luis.
Will be as quick as I can. So sorry. L xxx
And the second, which had been sent half an hour later.
I’m sorry. Things have changed. I can’t see you anymore. It’s done. L.
She stared at the words. Then she read it again and again trying to make sense of it. But she couldn’t. Marcella and Antonio – they were right, they must have been telling the truth. The wine at lunchtime and the champagne at dinner were fuzzing her thoughts. She began to run up the hill. This couldn’t be happening. How could this be happening? First Adam, then Luis. Both of them. Betraying her. In one day. On her birthday. She wanted to cry, but she couldn’t. Not here.
The phone pinged but she couldn’t bear to read the message in case it was Luis telling her again that they were finished. If I get back to the apartment it will disappear, she thought. I’ve got to get back to the apartment. As she got to the stone bridge opposite the lighthouse, the phone buzzed again. Images of Luis with a woman with horns and vampire teeth at the house Alice had been helping him to restore spun round her head, joined by Adam and Veronique laughing manically, wrestling the keys of her beloved home in London from her cold, tight hands.
She remembered how free she’d felt as the torn-up remnants of Adam’s postcards fluttered down from Tower Bridge into the Thames all those months ago. She glanced at the moon. It made a triangle of glistening light on the tranquil ocean. So she took the phone and aimed for the middle then ran again, not waiting to hear the satisfying splash.
Two men that had been following her to make sure she was okay waited until she was out of sight, then scrambled onto the rocks. ‘It is just as well she is a very bad shot,’ Felipe said to Ignacio. ‘She missed the sea. The phone is just here.’
‘Typical woman,’ said Ignacio. ‘Can’t throw.’
Chapter Twenty-One
The unfam
iliar pitter-patter of rain roused Alice from her slumber. For one peaceful moment she thought she was at home in London, but then Aphrodite nuzzled into her face and previous evening’s events came crashing into her mind. A raging thirst drove her out of bed rather than a desire to get up, and she lumbered to the kitchen, feeling heavy and sad.
Taking a glass of water through to the living room, she opened the shutters and watched the rain splash onto the glass as the clouds rolled by. How could he end it like that? she wondered. So callous, so cold. That’s the kind of man she attracted into her life, obviously. One’s that could change how they felt in the blink of an eye. The sky was every shade of grey, not a patch of blue or even white in sight. ‘I don’t want to be here any more Aphrodite, I’m sorry. I want to go home. This is too hard.’
Aphrodite sat, gazing up at her with big green cat eyes. ‘Stop looking at me like that,’ sighed Alice. ‘Do you want to come to London at all? I’d be lonely without you.’
Scooping her up and nuzzling into her fur, Alice searched for the phone in her bag for a few moments until she remembered what she’d done the previous night. Sinking onto the sofa helplessly, she lay motionless for a while, immobilised by thought until she drifted off into a listless sleep full of rapid dreams of hammers and walls and paint and bells and being sucked into a children’s ball pond full of tiny shiny beads. Down, down, down she went, sucked down to the bottom of the pool onto a cold, hard floor.
Her eyes flickered open. For the second time in an hour Alice awoke unsure where she was. This time it was the floor in the lounge. She had slipped off the sofa. ‘Ow!’ she said. ‘Aphrodite. Ow!’
The cat meandered disinterestedly towards her and jumped on the table to get a better view. ‘I wanted some sympathy, actually,’ muttered Alice clambering to her feet.
Smatterings of blue and white dotted the sky outside, the grey clouds dispersing, blustered away by a fierce west wind which shook the trees in the garden, scattering leaves on the grass. ‘Yep. I feel like that now. Am I controlling the weather?’ She sat down, exhausted again.
‘Cup of tea, I think. Sugar,’ she said, pulling herself up. The laptop in the spare room caught her attention. Staring at it for a minute, she darted in, turned it on, and ran towards the kitchen. ‘Real life is out there,’ she shouted to Aphrodite who was still sitting on the table in the living room. ‘And I suppose I have to deal with it … don’t want to though.’
Valuations of 32 Creek Street, Muswell Hill. Alice reluctantly opened the email, heart racing, wanting to read it, but not wanting to read it. She read it.
Further to your request, we have instructed three local estate agents to value your property …
‘Oh ... really … really?’ Her eyes widened. ‘Good Lord! No wonder Adam wants half of it, right. So we bought it for … so we’ve made … and all the reports say that substantial value had been added by the renovations … plus the housing market in London … so …’
This is a tentative enquiry, she typed. The property is in joint names, but the mortgage has been paid by myself for most of the time we have owned it, as well as the majority of the renovation work. I have mentioned this to you via the phone, but can you put in writing how would I go about dividing the assets fairly should we decide to sell? Also, how would I go about buying the other party out should I decide to go down that route?
Her finger hovered over the send button. Are you sure? said the voice in her head. They will reply. You will have to read it. And you will know the truth. Whether you like it or not. Are you sure? She sighed, pressed send, then turned off the computer and closed the door. ‘Nobody is going to take my hard work and love and commitment and throw it in my face ever again,’ she said to the room.
Who are you talking about? said the voice in her head. Adam or Luis?
As she closed the shutters, Alice spotted the birds with the bright blue bellies that swooped and fluttered to the pool every morning. But today as they soared up from the water there was no luminous plumage – just ordinary grey mottled feathers. And she realised her mistake. When the sun shone they reflected the blue of the swimming pool. Today there was none.
‘Idiot,’ she said, walking out of the apartment, glancing at the piles of bracelets on the table. ‘Idiot. About everything.’
Her feet guided her because her head did not know where it was going – it was so full of regrets and questions, anger, frustration and an overwhelming, crushing disappointment. What was I thinking anyway – getting involved with a man like Luis? With a reputation. And I only came here to recharge my batteries. It was never in my head to stay. At all. I have to pay a mortgage for goodness sake, I have to live. I could only do this for a few months more. Although I may not have to pay a mortgage soon.
She stopped as a dog walked languidly across the cobbled lane, collapsing in the shade of a shabby yellow cottage with a ‘for sale’ sign hanging from its balcony.
She realised she was in the old town. She continued to walk, not knowing and not caring where she was going. I don’t know what to do about my house, she thought, I just don’t. I can’t afford to buy Adam out – I know that at least. So, I have to sell. My house … and I don’t even know if I’ll get what’s mine. I don’t even know if I can fight for it … and once it’s sold what do I do? Where do I go?
A car squeezed up the hill towards her, driving through a tunnel of tiny pink, white and yellow houses, draped in yellow bougainvillea and purple wisteria. Nice colour combination for a bracelet, she thought and almost smiled. Even in the middle of all this anguish she was thinking of bloody bracelets. She moved on. Well at least I can sell my jewellery on the internet from anywhere.
Putting her head down and looking at the floor, the thoughts tumbled out of her mind. I may as well admit it to myself. I did, on silly days, think I could stay here. And my house would be over there for me, waiting just in case, open arms. But that was when Luis was around. I should never have fallen in love with him in the first place. She stopped suddenly, surprised. Did I just think that? Oh no … idiot – IDIOT! Better book my flight home. Must let Mary know so she can get someone else to look after Aphrodite … Aphrodite. A tear hung on her cheek. Stop crying about a cat!
Alice walked on, head still down, inspecting the cobbles. ‘Idiot.’ she whispered.
The tables clustered under the almond tree, and the sun cast a dappled shade over the chairs as Alice sat, nursing her drink. She had stumbled upon the tiny square as she had wondered aimlessly through the narrow streets, the sun slowly breaking through the darkness of the morning. A family was moving furniture into a tall, narrow town house, their children running around noisily whilst an older man barked orders at everyone. Alice tried to imagine what the rooms looked like, where they would put the solid old wooden table being manoeuvred through the door, where the family photographs would hang, where their dog would sleep.
She thought of her own empty house, so lovingly brought to life, now to be abandoned. To whom? she wondered. Would they love it as much as she did – those four walls that had protected her and kept her safe? It would have to be a family that bought it. A family like the one she was watching. Big and noisy and warm. That’s what her house deserved. A happy family. She stood up and walked back up the hill towards the apartment. A new phone could wait until later. Time to Skype her mother. Time to act.
She rushed through the apartment building’s foyer and pressed the lift button quickly, in no mood to make small talk with the porter. As she stepped inside and the doors began to close she glimpsed him darting out of his office towards her. ‘Madam. Madam. I have …’ The doors closed and she sighed, closing her eyes. No more news, no more anything, she thought. Just hide.
As she walked through the door another wave of sadness overwhelmed her. She was leaving. This place had been her home as well, and now she was being pulled away from it. She turned on the computer and Skyped her mum, hoping she was there and could hear the call.
‘Alice! How lovely t
o hear from you again.’ Her mum’s nose was visible on the screen. ‘Why are you Skyping me? Where’s your phone?’
‘I lost it mum,’ she lied. ‘Can you sit a bit further back so I can see your face properly?’
Her mother scraped the chair away from the screen and Alice smiled as she came into full view.
‘I’m glad you phoned. We tried to tell you last night. A letter has arrived for you. It’s from a solicitor. It must be from Adam. Anyone else would have sent it to your house. Do you want me to open it?’
The anger returned in a rush. ‘I think you should open it,’ said Alice ‘I can’t believe he’s already got his solicitor to send a letter. He told me he hadn’t got a solicitor involved yet. He said he was going to. But he hadn’t.’
‘Alice Dorothy, sit down. Stop pacing around.’
‘Sorry mum.’ Alice perched reluctantly on the sofa as her mother began to open the letter. ‘When did it arrive?’
‘Yesterday.’
Alice sprang to her feet again. ‘I can’t believe it. Actually I can believe it. I bet he deliberately timed it to arrive on my birthday. What did I see in him, Mum? Why didn’t you warn me?’
‘I did, darling.’ She sighed, unfolding the paper and placing it on the table in front of her. ‘Now please sit down. You keep disappearing from view on the screen.’
‘Okay, okay.’ Alice sat down again. ‘What does it say?’
‘As expected. He wants to sell the house and get the money. In a nutshell.’
‘Right. Right ...’ Alice bobbed up again.
‘Alice, please ...’ Her mother sounded frustrated.
‘I know I’ve got to sell it.’
‘Yes.’
‘But I don’t want him to have half of it.’
‘No.’
‘But if I fight, he may fight back and all the appeals will cost a lot of money.’
‘Yes, they will.’
‘And I may not win, and he will get half and I would have lost that money.’
The House That Alice Built Page 25