The Mermaid Garden

by Santa Montefiore

  “It’s just you, Clementine,” he said seriously, and his gaze felt like a caress as it swept across her face.

  They drove back into town with Biscuit at Clementine’s feet. The air was highly charged now that they had both gone some way towards declaring themselves. And yet they hadn’t, quite. Clementine wished Rafa would just stop the car and kiss her, then it would clear the air like a thunderstorm after days of heavy humidity. But he pulled up outside Joe’s house and got out to open her door. She stepped onto the pavement.

  “Would you like me to wait for you?” he offered.

  She wanted to run upstairs, grab her bags, and drive off into the sunset with him. “No, I’ll be fine, thank you,” she said instead. “I don’t know how long this is going to take.”

  “Do you want me to warn Marina?”

  “No, don’t say anything. I’ll say it myself when I see her.”

  “She’ll be very pleased, you know. I think she’s missed you.”

  Clementine sighed heavily. “To tell you the truth I’ve missed them all, too. I knew from the beginning that I was making a mistake. I feel bad for Joe.”

  “Text me if you need support.”

  “After your heroics in the sea, I have no doubt that you would come to my rescue if I needed you.”

  “You know I would.” He watched her unlock the front door.

  “Here goes,” she mouthed, before disappearing inside and closing it behind her.

  Rafa drove back up to the Polzanze. He took his time, taking pleasure from the lush countryside and cotton clouds that caught the wind and raced across the darkening sky like sailing boats. He was beginning to love it here, but most surprisingly of all, he was beginning to love Clementine.

  He bit the inside of his cheek as he recalled how close he had come to kissing her. In any other time or place he would have swept her into his arms and kissed her days ago. He would have kissed her in the house that God forgot, he would have kissed her in the sea, he would have kissed her when she was furious with him and asking him to leave, and he would have kissed her many times since—countless opportunities, desire growing steadily stronger, but one thing standing in his way.

  He kept his eyes on the road ahead and drove on.

  30.

  Marina and Grey were sitting at the kitchen table finishing supper when Clementine’s car drew up outside the hotel. She got out and stood awhile in the dark, mustering up the courage to face them. Moving in with Joe had been an act of defiance, but she admitted now that it had also been a cry for help. It hadn’t extracted the reaction she had hoped for. Or if it had, her father and stepmother hadn’t let their feelings show.

  She thought of Rafa and the advice he had given her. It was time she talked to Marina. The English were great avoiders. They were happier plodding on pretending issues didn’t exist. Her family was worse than most. They had never discussed the past or opened up about the way they felt. But Rafa had given her the courage to do it. She would listen to her stepmother’s side of the story, accept it, then let it go.

  She pulled her bag out of the boot and, with a deep breath, strode over to the stable block. Marina heard the door open and assumed it was Jake. When Clementine stood in the doorway, she was caught off guard.

  Grey noticed her suitcase in the hall behind her. “Clementine!” he exclaimed happily. “How nice to see you.”

  “Is everything all right?” Marina asked, reaching for her glass of wine.

  “I’ve come home,” Clementine stated.

  Marina knew her reaction was crucial if she didn’t want the girl running off again. “Do you want to talk about it?” she asked carefully.

  “I broke off with Joe.”

  “Come and sit down, darling. I think you need a drink, don’t you?” asked Grey, getting up to find her a glass.

  “I should never have left in the first place.”

  Marina noticed the heavy cloud that usually accompanied her everywhere was no longer in evidence. She had put down her sword and come in peace. “I’m so pleased you’re back,” she said truthfully. “I’m sorry you and Joe didn’t work out. That must be a great disappointment. But I’m happy you’re home.”

  “It’s not a disappointment at all. I never cared about Joe. I never really cared about myself. But I do now.” A smile crept onto her face like a smug cat. “I see the world through different eyes. I’m never going to settle for second best again.”

  Marina didn’t have to ask who was behind the change of perspective. Grey, however, was oblivious and frowned quizzically. “That’s good,” he said, and poured her a glass of Pinot Grigio.

  “Marina, I’d like to talk to you alone. Do you mind, Daddy?”

  “I’ll give her some fortification, then,” he said, replenishing Marina’s wine. The two women stood up.

  “Let’s go outside,” Clementine suggested.

  Marina refused to give in to temptation and catch her husband’s eye. She could feel his baffled stare. She assumed Clementine wanted to talk about Rafa and felt her heart swell with pleasure that the child was at last looking to her for guidance. She’d tell Grey later when they were alone.

  “I’ll just get my coat,” she said, striding into the hall.

  “Me, too. It’s a chilly evening, but it’s so beautiful. I want to sit under the stars.”

  Grey did notice the change in her tone of voice, however; the way she said “beautiful” was different, as if she said it with her heart and really meant it.

  The night was deep and dark but as soft as velvet. A brisk wind swept off the sea, but it was a warm wind that smelled of salt and damp grass, and the roar of waves crashing against the rocks below was a distant, friendly rumble. The moon shone brightly, every now and then hidden from view by swift clouds that rolled across the sky. Clementine and Marina walked down the lawn to sit on the bench. They were quite exposed there, overlooking the ocean and far-off peninsula where the lighthouse shone its warning light through the inky blackness. They wrapped their coats around them and sat down.

  “I never understood why you loved it here so much,” said Clementine with a contented sigh. “I was a town girl, happier on pavement than on grass. Yet now, it’s as if a veil has been lifted from my eyes, and I see the extraordinary beauty of this place.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes, and it makes me feel good inside.”

  “Nature is a wonderful healer. If ever I’m unhappy, I come out here and absorb it. I always return feeling better.”

  Clementine took a gulp of wine. “Marina, I want to apologize for being such a cow.”

  Marina took a gulp, too, astonished by her stepdaughter’s admission. She didn’t think she had ever heard her say sorry in all the years she had known her. However, she wasn’t entirely convinced and decided not to say anything until she was sure that there wasn’t an ulterior motive to her apology.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Clementine continued. “And I deserve it. If I was in your position, I wouldn’t believe me, either. But I really feel sorry. I do. Ever since I was little I’ve believed that you broke up my family and stole my father from under Mummy’s nose. And I felt that you stole him from me, too. But there are always two sides to every story, and I want to hear yours, if you’ll tell me. I’d like to understand from your point of view and put an end to my childish interpretation. I’m adult enough to know that nothing is ever black and white.”

  Marina felt her throat constrict and blinked back tears. She took her stepdaughter’s hand. “I don’t know what to say. I never thought we’d ever have the chance to sit alone like this and be honest and open with each other. You have no idea how long I have wished to talk to you, woman to woman, and beg your forgiveness.”

  Clementine was surprised how tender her heart felt. For a moment she wondered whether it was the wine that had turned her all soft, but then she felt the warmth in Marina’s hand and realized it was love that had thawed the ice there and opened it up like a tulip. “You don’t n
eed my forgiveness,” she said softly.

  “I do. When I fell in love with your father, he was married with two small children. I could have walked away and left him in his unhappiness, but I didn’t. I don’t suppose your mother ever spoke of the acrimony. According to your father, you were a family intact, but so broken.

  “Grey and I found each other because I, too, was lost. I recognized the loneliness in him because I felt it so profoundly myself. There was a big difference in age, and he was very well educated, while I was not. But we shared something, and together we found we had the power to heal one another. I never set out to steal him, and I certainly never wanted to destroy a happy family. But, Clemmie, you weren’t a happy family, and in the end our love eclipsed everything else. I carry that on my conscience.

  “What we did wasn’t right, but we felt it was best for everyone, including you and Jake. I don’t know whether children are better off with unhappy parents, or with happy stepparents. I don’t have the answer. But you can be sure your father has always loved you and Jake above all others, including me. You might not have felt it; as a little girl you were always so angry you pushed him away whenever he reached out to you. I expected you to push me away, but I tried all the same. You must know that his love for you is unconditional.”

  She drained her glass and swallowed hard, though her throat was so tight it hurt as the wine went down. She stared out over the sea, and Clementine felt a chill ripple across her skin from the inside.

  “As you know, Clemmie, I cannot have children. It is my deepest sorrow and something that claws at my heart every day and every night. Sometimes, I can barely function because the desire to love is so strong. Most of the time I throw myself into the hotel and give that all the care and nurture I would give a child. It is a poor compensation, but it is all I have. You and Jake will never be mine, I have inherited you, and I thank Fate for that blessing. We haven’t had it easy, you and I. But I understand. I can never be a mother to you, and I wouldn’t expect to be. But I do very much want to be your friend.”

  Clementine began to cry. She realized then that she had so misunderstood her stepmother. The facts of her parents’ marriage breakup were irrelevant, as were the facts of Marina and Grey’s affair—they had never been the issue. When the artichoke of her life was peeled away, petal by petal, the core was love and the fact that Clementine had felt she had not been given enough.

  “I’ve been so selfish.” She sniffed. “I’ve only ever thought about myself and how little attention I’m getting. That’s all it is. I feel such a fool.” She thought of Rafa and how he had seen past the prickly petals to the core all along. “And, Marina …?”

  “Yes?” Her stepmother put her arm around her and drew her close. “What is it?” Clementine was crying so much now she was unable to speak. “It’s okay, you mustn’t feel bad. It’s only natural to feel like you do. Every child wants their parents to love them above all others, and marriage breakups—”

  “It’s not that.” Clementine wiped her face with her sleeve and sat up.

  “Oh, I see. There’s something else.”

  “Yes. I’m in love. I’m desperately in love, and I don’t know what to do about it.” Her breath caught in her chest.

  “Rafa?”

  She nodded. “I don’t know how he feels about me. One moment I think he’s going to kiss me, then he pulls away. I don’t know whether he leads everyone on like that, or whether I’m special. It’s been such a short time, but I’m crazy about him.”

  “I can’t say I haven’t noticed that you’re keen on him. But I haven’t seen you together enough to tell you how I think he feels.”

  “Today he told me that I’m special. He took my hands and told me I’m beautiful. Then, when I asked him if he said that to all the girls or if it’s just me, he said that it was just me. I could have sworn he was about to lean over and kiss me. He looked at me so intensely. But we got up and drove back into Dawcomb, where he dropped me off outside Joe’s flat. He knew I was going to break up with him.”

  “And he didn’t suspect that he’s the reason?”

  “I don’t think so. He said he could tell that I wasn’t in love with Joe.”

  “I think we all worked that out.”

  “So, what shall I do?”

  Marina didn’t hesitate. “Absolutely nothing.”

  Clementine was surprised; she was expecting a long lecture on how to play hard to get.

  “You’re lovely, Clemmie, just the way you are. He’d be a very stupid man to let you go.”

  Clementine wanted to cry again, with gratitude. “Thank you.” She put her arms around her stepmother’s small shoulders and hugged her tightly. “I’m so happy we’re friends.”

  “Me, too,” Marina agreed, closing her eyes.

  When the two women returned to the stable block, Grey was still up, watching a documentary about sea creatures on Sky. He was surprised to see them both red-faced and shiny-nosed. Without a word of explanation, Clementine marched up to him and put her arms around his neck. She gave him a long, hard squeeze and planted a kiss on his cheek. “I’m going to have a bath—my feet are freezing.” He watched, amazed, as she walked lightly out of the room.

  “What’s she taken?” he asked Marina.

  “Come upstairs and I’ll tell you. I need to warm up, too.”

  “What the devil have you been up to?”

  “Long story, but I feel wonderful.” She sighed heavily, unburdening years of pain, and grinned at him broadly. “You’re never going to believe it.”

  “The hotel’s heaving,” said Bertha the following morning, settling onto the kitchen chair like a nesting hen. “Shame it’s in such trouble.”

  “What do you mean, trouble?” Heather asked, hugging her mug of coffee.

  “I’ve heard they’ve run out of money,” Bertha said in a low voice. “Though you didn’t get that from me.”

  “Who did you get it from then?”

  Bertha pulled her earlobe. “Ear to the ground. Apparently, some bigwig is coming down from London to make them an offer.”

  Heather’s jaw unhinged. “Are you sure?”

  “He’s Jewish.” Bertha raised an eyebrow.

  “So?”

  “Jake says Jews are clever. Very clever.”

  “Clever won’t get them to sell the hotel if they don’t want to.”

  “Well, I heard Jake talking to his father in the stable block, and it sounded to me like they don’t have much choice in the matter.”

  “They’ll have to bury Marina first. She won’t give in without a fight. What’ll happen to us?”

  “I don’t know. They might get rid of some people, but not us. We’re independable.”

  “You mean indispensable?”

  “That’s what I said, indispensable.”

  “You might be, Bertha, but I’m not so sure about me. Anyone could do my job.”

  “It’s not anyone they’d want, now, is it? They’d want experienced staff who know their way around.”

  “Hope you’re right. Keep your ear to the ground and let me know if you hear anything else.”

  Clementine was no artist, but the only way to spend time with Rafa was to join his class. He was pleasantly surprised when she appeared on the cliff top to paint the lighthouse with Pat, Grace, and Veronica. “I’ve got nothing else to do this weekend,” she said, sitting on a blanket with Biscuit.

  Rafa gave her a sketch pad and some watercolors.

  He bent down and whispered in her ear, “You’ve made it more fun for me.”

  “I’m really bad, though,” she replied, smiling at his compliment.

  “Don’t stunt your ability with your negative attitude.”

  “Well, I haven’t painted since school.”

  “You’re here to have fun and to enjoy this peaceful place. I bet you haven’t sat and observed every wave and every cloud, every blade of grass and flower?” She looked at him quizzically. “Most of the time we race through life with
our eyes closed, absorbed in endless thought. We miss the simple magic of a buttercup hidden in the grass. Now you can really take the time to look around you with your eyes wide open and enjoy the beauty of nature. You can fully exist in the present.” He grinned and stood up.

  She dipped her brush into the water. “Very well, I’ll exist in the present. But I’m not sure my picture will be any better for it.”

  He put his hand on her shoulder. “But you will be.”

  The six hen weekend girls had gone to spend the day at a spa, and the bird-watchers from Holland had gone in search of the solitary sandpiper. “I’m glad we’re not having to spend our last couple of days with those vulgar girls,” said Grace, tying a Hermès scarf under her chin to preserve her hair from the wind.

  “They’re young, Grace,” said Veronica. “They’re just having fun.”

  “Still, they have no style. In our day there was no such thing as a ladette.”

  “I came pretty close,” said Pat. “I was a tomboy.”

  “That’s different. You didn’t go throwing yourself at young men.”

  “Had I had your looks and Veronica’s grace, I think I might have,” Pat retorted.

  At first Clementine was unable to lose herself in her surroundings. As much as she tried she was too aware of Rafa walking up and down, giving advice. It was only when he sat down beside her and began to lose himself in his own painting that she was able to relax. The silence was comfortable. She didn’t feel the need to fill it with chatter. Rafa seemed to fall into an all-absorbing world, and soon she joined him there, noticing every seagull and every rock until she ceased to notice herself.

  It was sunset when they returned to the hotel. Rafa was impressed with Clementine’s painting.

  “You’re just being kind,” she protested.

  “You have an interesting way of using color.”

  She laughed. “Interesting, certainly, but not very good.”

  “Let me be the judge of that.” His gaze lingered on her for what felt like a long time.