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The Mermaid Garden

Page 25

by Santa Montefiore


  “The point is, nothing you do is in isolation. So you see, your choices are important. If you choose to hold on to grudges you will create a future that is unhappy, because every decision will be borne out of your resentment. Marina fell in love with your father and married him. It doesn’t matter anymore whether she stole him from your mother, or rescued him from an unhappy marriage—and believe me, each person involved will have their own interpretation of the events and they will all be different. But you, Clementine, can choose how you react. You’re an adult now with your own future to build. If you detach emotionally, give them your blessing, try to see the good in Marina instead of looking for the bad, you will forge a happier present for yourself.”

  She thought about it awhile, her gaze drawn out to sea. “I’ve never given Marina a chance,” she said softly. “I’ve always resented her for taking Daddy away from me.”

  “Your father is still here. Perhaps you need to be the bigger person and reach out to him.”

  “You make it sound so easy.”

  “Look, we are not caricatures but complicated, flawed human beings. Love is bigger than all of us. Just understand that they had their reasons, probably not the reasons you think they had, and make a conscious decision to let them go. They’re a great big liner you are pulling across the waves. Cut the rope. Release yourself. You can rise to great heights in spite of the terrible start you had in life.” He smiled with empathy. “But more probably because of it.”

  “You said I should ask Marina her side of the story.”

  “Maybe one day, down here on the beach, when you’re alone and uninterrupted, you might ask her to tell you what happened. But only when you’re ready to listen without judging her. Only once you have detached enough not to bring it all back to you.”

  “You’re very wise, Rafa.”

  “That’s what everyone says, but I’m not. I’m still learning, still searching.”

  “You seem to know a lot already.”

  “The more you know, the more you realize what there is to learn.” He poured another glass of wine. “Need a refill?”

  She nodded. “You know, you’re going to have to carry me back up the path.”

  “A few more drinks and I might carry you all the way home!”

  The tide crept in as they sat chatting on the sand. The orange sun sank low on the horizon, turning the clouds a deep purple against the pale blue of the sky. It was so romantic, against the hypnotic rhythm of the waves and the melancholy cry of gulls, that Clementine was sure he was going to lean over and kiss her. Inside, her heart began to thump with anticipation. The intense way he looked at her, the jaunty way he smiled, the playful way he teased, all indicated that he was attracted to her. The wine had made her senses more acute, and she could feel every vibration that passed between them, as if they were made of electricity.

  At that moment, just when she thought he was going to kiss her, there came the barking of a frightened dog, way out at the other end of the beach, where the sea was crashing against rocks.

  Rafa stood up. “Can you hear that?” He scanned the beach. “I can’t see him. Can you?”

  Clementine was mildly irritated that the moment had been interrupted, but the panic in the bark soon distracted her. “Let’s go and see.”

  They hurried down the beach, leaving their picnic on the sand. The barking was constant and insistent, and the terror in it fired them with a sense of urgency. Soon they were running. They stopped at the end of the beach and listened. Rafa looked at her solemnly. “It must be stuck on the rocks.” They both scanned the cliffs, but saw nothing.

  “How can we reach it?”

  “I’m going to swim round.”

  “Isn’t it dangerous?”

  “I hope not. But there’s a dog in trouble, and I’m a sucker for an animal in pain.” He quickly stripped down to his underpants.

  “Then I’m coming with you.” She, too, started to undress.

  “You’re very brave, Clementine.”

  “Reckless, you mean.” But the way he looked at her gave her courage.

  They waded out to sea. The water was cold, but after a while their bodies grew accustomed to it. They swam together, but neither said a word, they were too busy listening to the barking and trying to ascertain the dog’s whereabouts. Clementine would never have dared swim out so far on her own. The waves crashed against the rocks, and the beach seemed way behind them.

  “Look, there’s a cave!” Rafa shouted. “I think it’s coming from in there.” They swam round to the cove where the water was calmer, and hurried up the little beach. The tide was coming in fast, it wouldn’t be long before the cave was full of water. The dog sensed their arrival and began to whine.

  “It’s okay, boy. You’re going to be all right.” Rafa crouched down and stroked him. The dog wagged its little tail excitedly.

  “Look, it’s been tied to a rock.” Sure enough, the animal had been deliberately sentenced to death in that cave. “I can’t bear it!”

  “Can you untie it?”

  “Yes.” She set about undoing the knot, aghast that anyone could be so cruel. Once it was untied she joined Rafa on the sand to stroke it. “What sort of dog is it?”

  “Mongrel. Which is why its owner probably didn’t want it anymore.” He began to talk to the animal in Spanish.

  “How are we going to get it to the beach?”

  He glanced at the mouth of the cave. “We’d better get going. It’ll be dark soon, and the tide is coming in. We don’t want to be stuck here for the night.”

  “I don’t think we’d survive the night. This cave is probably underwater at high tide.”

  “Okay, boy, you’re going to have to come with us.”

  At first it looked as if it would be impossible to move him. The dog was so upset and frightened that his trembling legs wouldn’t budge. If they hadn’t had to get across the sea, Rafa could have carried him, but they had no choice; if the dog was to be saved, he had to swim.

  Rafa took his face in his hands and looked him in the eye. Then he spoke calmly but with authority, as if he were speaking to a child. “You’re going to come with us, little friend. We’re going to look after you and take you to safety, but you have to trust us.”

  He stroked the dog’s ears and muzzle, and after a while, as the sea crept into the cave, the dog calmed down. He followed them out and into the water. All the time Rafa spoke to him, encouraging him, coaxing him, praising him. Clementine swam on the other side of the dog so that he felt protected on both sides. Slowly, they made their way round the corner. The wind had picked up, and the sea was choppier now. It required more effort to swim, but Clementine gritted her teeth and kept her eye on the beach. The little dog swam with all his might, his nose in the air, nostrils dilating, eyes wide with anxiety. But on he swam, his courage greater than his fear.

  At last they reached the beach. The dog trotted onto the sand and shook the water out of his fur, then wagged his tail so hard it looked as if his bottom would come off. Clementine and Rafa staggered out of the waves and collapsed onto their knees to pat him.

  “Clever dog!” they exclaimed breathlessly, and the dog seemed to understand, licking their faces with happiness.

  “We’ve got to get him home. He’ll be cold and dehydrated. God knows how long he’s been tied up in that cave.”

  “We’ve got water in our picnic bag,” Clementine suggested.

  “Good. Come on, boy, let’s get you home.”

  The dog drank from the bottle and ate the remains of the sandwiches. He was indeed hungry and thirsty.

  “You know, Marina hates dogs,” said Clementine.

  “How can a person hate dogs?”

  “I don’t know. She just does.”

  “We’ll worry about that later. Let’s get him dry first and then we’ll talk to her. You can’t have him at work, so she’ll have to tolerate him being at the hotel.”

  “She’ll make you take him to a dog home.”

 
“This dog is staying with me. It’s Fate, don’t you see? We were meant to find him.” He grinned at her playfully. “It’s my choice to keep him.”

  She smiled back, relishing having something that they alone shared. “Then it’s mine, too.”

  They dressed over their wet bodies and shivered all the way up to the car. Rafa offered to carry Clementine, but she declined, explaining that the dog needed their attention. Coming down the hill with her on his back was one thing, but going up was an entirely different matter, and she didn’t care how many thorns ripped her skin as long as she was spared the humiliation of having to be put down halfway because she was too heavy.

  They put the animal on the backseat, where he lay like a sodden mop. After a while, the rumble of the engine lulled him to sleep.

  In spite of the heating in the car, Clementine and Rafa were both still shivering when they reached the Polzanze. They were cold right through to their bones.

  “Let me deal with Marina,” Rafa suggested as the car pulled up in front of the house.

  “I’m not going to argue with that,” Clementine said, biting her lip nervously. “I hope we can keep him.”

  “We’re going to keep him, don’t worry.”

  “I’ll go and get some old towels and a blanket.”

  “Do you have anything to change into?”

  “I’ll borrow Dad’s dressing gown.” Tom strode out of the hotel. He stared at them in surprise as they climbed out of the car. “Tom, will you stay with the dog while I go and get some blankets?” Clementine asked.

  “Dog?”

  “Yes. We found a dog tied up in a cave. He was going to drown. We had to swim out to rescue him. Now he’s asleep on the backseat, poor thing.”

  Tom shook his head. “Uh-oh, you know what the boss thinks about dogs.”

  “This is different. He’s frightened and has no one to look after him.”

  “Where is Marina?” Rafa asked.

  “In the conservatory with the brigadier and your ladies.”

  “Right, I’m going to put on some dry clothes, then I’m going to see her.”

  “Good luck,” said Clementine.

  “You need more than luck,” Tom added.

  Clementine emerged a little later, swamped in Grey’s dressing gown and slippers, armed with an old towel and blankets. Rafa, in fresh jeans and sweater, was coming out of the hotel with Marina. It was clear from the look on her face that he hadn’t told her. Clementine glanced into the back of the car. The dog was still asleep. He looked very sweet, his brown hair curled by seawater, his little body rising and falling as he breathed. How could anyone reject such a helpless creature?

  “So, what’s the surprise?” said Marina, approaching the car. Tom looked terrified and backed away quietly, but near enough to watch.

  “We have rescued a dog,” said Rafa carelessly. “He was tied up in a cave and left to drown. Clementine and I had to swim out to rescue him.”

  Marina’s jaw dropped in horror. “A dog?”

  “Yes, isn’t he adorable? He’s asleep now. He was so frightened.” Rafa was clearly trying to appeal to her compassionate nature.

  She peered in, ringing her hands anxiously. “You know I can’t have dogs in the hotel,” she said, but Rafa sensed the weakness in her voice and pushed on.

  “But he was going to die. We have a responsibility to look after him. He’s very young, not much more than a puppy. We cannot give him away.”

  Marina stared at him. The fear in her eyes took them all aback. Quite unexpectedly, Clementine felt a sharp ache in her chest, and her heart flooded with pity. Marina looked so small, as if a gust of wind would blow her over.

  “It’s okay, Marina, I’ll have him,” she volunteered. “Mr. Atwood will just have to put up with him in the office. He can sleep under my desk.”

  “No, you can’t have him at work,” said Rafa.

  “I can ask my mother,” Tom suggested. “She’s got a cat, but you never know, they might get on.”

  Marina seemed to be struggling with her conscience. “I can’t give him away,” she muttered. “I can’t. We have to take care of him.”

  “I can look after him up in my room,” Rafa said gently. “You’ve given me an enormous suite, Marina; there’s room enough for both of us.”

  She looked into the car and gazed on the sleeping mongrel. Then her eyes filled with tears. No one knew what to say. They had not expected her to react in this way.

  “I’m sorry, Marina. I didn’t realize you were frightened of dogs.”

  “I’m not frightened of them,” she replied, straightening up and composing herself. “He’s very dear. What are you going to call him?”

  “We hadn’t thought,” Rafa replied, looking to Clementine for help.

  “Biscuit,” she replied, grinning at her stepmother.

  Marina gave a small smile and wiped her cheek. “Biscuit.” She laughed. “That’s a good name.”

  “I thought you’d like it.”

  “Sure,” Rafa agreed, oblivious of the joke that passed between the two women. “I’ll carry him upstairs and put him to bed.”

  Marina seized control. “Tom, go and tell the kitchen to prepare something for him to eat and take up a bowl of water. Clementine, you go with Rafa and make up a little bed. I’m sure we have a basket somewhere—I’ll go and have a look.” She marched off to the stable block.

  They watched her go. “What was that all about?” Rafa asked.

  Clementine shrugged. “I don’t know. She’s a mystery. At least we know now that she’s not afraid of dogs.”

  “If she’s not afraid of them, what’s the problem?”

  “Perhaps it’s the fur. She’s very proud of her house.”

  “No, it’s more than that. She nearly lost it.”

  “She does that occasionally. Usually Harvey or Dad is near to put her back together again.”

  Rafa frowned. “Why?”

  “You ask too many questions, Rafa.”

  But he stood staring at the stable block long after Marina had disappeared inside.

  Rafa carried Biscuit upstairs and put him onto the blankets Clementine laid out for him on the spare bed. He was so sleepy he could barely keep his eyes open. Tom appeared a little while later with a bowl of water and some leftover chicken, and Marina had found an old wicker picnic basket as a temporary solution. Tomorrow they’d go and buy supplies at the pet shop. It looked like Biscuit was here to stay.

  Clementine ignored the three missed calls on her mobile from Joe and agreed to stay for dinner while her clothes dried. They retreated to the stable block and sat around the kitchen table eating spaghetti with mussels, which Marina cooked better than any chef. Grey joined them, interested to hear about the dog, but more concerned about his wife and how she was reacting to her new guest. It astonished him that she had allowed the animal onto the premises at all. Rafa longed to ask why she didn’t like dogs, but intuition told him that that particular avenue was dark and treacherous.

  At eleven Rafa got up from the table. “I’d better go and check on Biscuit, in case he wakes up and finds himself alone. He might be frightened.”

  “After his adventure, I imagine he’ll be nervous for quite a while yet,” said Grey.

  “I should go, too,” said Clementine. “Dad, can you give me a lift? I left my car in Dawcomb.”

  “Of course,” said Grey, getting up.

  Marina frowned. She sensed Clementine’s reluctance and wished she had the courage to admit that she’d been wrong and come home.

  “I’ll walk you out,” said Rafa, then he turned to Marina. “Thank you for dinner. You cook spaghetti better than an Italian.”

  Marina smiled. “Thank you. That’s quite a compliment, coming from a half Italian.”

  Rafa accompanied Clementine onto the gravel. “What a day,” he said, putting his hands in his pockets.

  “Why is it that whenever I’m with you, I end up taking off my clothes and jumping into the sea?”
r />   “If you can’t work that out, you’re not as clever as I thought you were.”

  She smiled. “Then you go to extraordinary lengths to get a girl to undress.”

  “Some girls require more guile.”

  “Will you give Biscuit a kiss from me?”

  “I’ll give him more than one. Come up and see him tomorrow. After all, he belongs to both of us.”

  “I will.”

  “I’ll call you in the morning to tell you how he is.”

  “I hope he has a good night.”

  “After the fright he had today, he’ll sleep like a baby.” He laughed. “And so will I.”

  Clementine climbed into her father’s car, and they motored up the drive. She saw Rafa watching her in the mirror and waved out of the window. He waved back. She knitted her fingers and took a deep, satisfied breath.

  Grey dropped her off outside Joe’s, but instead of going inside, she waited for her father to leave, then slunk off to find her Mini. She didn’t want to face Joe yet, she wanted to sit awhile and feel close to Rafa, so she drove to the house that God forgot.

  The moon was big and bright, drenching the landscape with enough light for her to see her way down the field. She didn’t feel afraid on her own. It felt good to be out in the wind, blanketed by the night. It was too dark to enter the church, so she sat on the step at the entrance and leaned against the wall, listening to the rustling of leaves and the steady murmuring of the sea below. Moonlight caught the tips of waves as they rose and fell, splashing them with silver. Tonight, the beauty didn’t make her feel melancholy, but happy. Her heart felt full and warm as if it were a cupcake, just out of the oven. She knew now that there was such a thing as Big Love and that it could creep up on a person very suddenly, almost before she recognized it. Well, she recognized it, all right, and, with a shudder of anticipation, she yearned to let it in.

 

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