Wish You Were Here

by Phillipa Ashley

  ‘And the wine habit? The chocolate addiction? Rumor has it that Martha has a loyalty card at Starbucks and the Sainsbury’s Metro.’

  He threw her an indignant look. ‘Are you suggesting I don’t look after myself? My body is a temple, Beth, or will be when we get back. I intend to live a blameless life. Nothing will pass my lips except Goji berries and mineral water.’

  She had to put her hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle, as he stood up straight and stiff backed, a solemn expression on his face. It didn’t really go with the stubble, jeans, and shirt. Two old men stared at them so he wished them a cheery ‘bonsoir’ and pointed in the direction of the narrow streets snaking into the citadel.

  ‘Come on, let’s go for a coffee and a nightcap. I know just the place.’

  They slipped into the labyrinth of narrow streets. Buildings, five and six stories high, loomed on either side of them, lined with restaurant tables, filled with diners laughing and eating, smoking and talking. Dodging past waiters bearing trays of drinks and food, they climbed steadily until they rounded a corner and she saw the sea again.

  There, literally at the top of the town, overlooking a huge black sky sprinkled with stars, was a little cave of a bar. Nightlights flickered on the tables. It was like a tiny, magical grotto and from the way Jack was looking at her right now, they might have been a million miles from home, let alone a thousand.

  She ordered digestifs—two coffees and two glasses of myrte, the local herb liqueur and for a while, they sat in silence, gazing over the sea to the opposite coast as they waited for their drinks. A tiny spark of hope, as faint and distant as one of the stars, had begun to glimmer in her heart and mind. Did she dare to hope that she’d been wrong about Jack? That he might have changed into a man who was regretful about leaving her, maybe even hoping to renew their relationship?

  ‘It’s so beautiful,’ she said as the patron placed their drinks on the table.

  ‘Indeed, it is,’ he said. ‘Idyllic, in fact.’

  ‘Makes you not want to go home.’

  ‘It does makes it difficult,’ he said, emptying the contents of a sugar packet into his café crème. ‘So, how are things with you and Marcus?’

  ‘How are things with you and Camilla?’

  Jack stopped stirring his coffee and laid his spoon carefully in the saucer. ‘I guess I asked for that.’

  She sighed. ‘Marcus and I are… we’re trying to make things work, but it’s hard with us both being so far apart.’

  ‘I guess it is. Long-distance relationships are incredibly tough. I’m sorry if it’s not working out as well as you hoped. Maybe,’ he added, ‘you can sort it out when you get back home for good.’

  ‘Maybe,’ she said, feeling a catch in her throat at being reminded she would soon be out of Jack’s world permanently.

  ‘Are things still serious between you and Camilla?’ she asked, adding sugar she didn’t want to her own coffee so she didn’t have to meet his eyes.

  He paused so long that she had to look back at him.

  ‘Serious? I’m not sure what that really means,’ he said carefully. His eyes seemed to match the midnight sky as the candlelight flickered behind them. ‘Do you want to talk about the trip tomorrow?’ he asked as a cool breeze gusted in from the sea, rippling the fairy lights.

  ‘I suppose we should really,’ she said, her heart sinking. ‘We are supposed to be here on business.’

  They managed to discuss work for a full ten minutes before the conversation led to Jack’s reminiscences of Olivier, then Beth shared some stories about Louisa and her father.

  ‘I think the owner is hinting,’ she said as the lights went out, throwing Jack’s face into dark shadow. He got out his wallet, fumbled for some bills, and laid them on the table.

  ‘Let’s go before we find ourselves locked out of the hotel.’

  They threaded their way through dark streets and cobbled alleys, always close enough to touch each other but never quite meeting. As they reached the hotel, Jack following her up the stairs, she found her heart was beating harder with every step. When she unlocked the door of her room, it seemed the most natural thing in the world that he should follow her inside.

  She turned on the old bedside lamp and their shadows leapt into life like giant marionettes dancing across the walls. Dropping her bag on the white coverlet, she turned slowly, feeling her heart trying to escape from her chest. He was so close now, she could sense the warmth of his body, smell the fresh night air clinging to his shirt and skin.

  ‘I guess it’s time to say good night,’ she whispered.

  ‘I guess it is,’ he said.

  Reaching out his hand, he touched her face with his fingertips, sending anticipation shooting through her like fire. He tilted her chin upwards and traced a path with his thumb along the curve of her cheek from temple to jaw.

  ‘Good night then, Beth,’ he murmured as he drew her to him gently. Now she knew what the ache inside her since that day in the office had been. It had been the desire, the need to know if Jack’s kiss would still taste as sweet as once it had.

  As his mouth met hers, she had all the answer she needed.

  Her lips responded to his, desire trailing though her body like warm velvet being drawn across bare skin. Her palms ranged over the firm muscles of his back, exploring almost with wonder, the hard ridges of his spine. Their kiss was warm, tender, and moist, and made her feel as if the breath had been sucked from her body, the bones from her limbs.

  His mouth moved to the bare flesh of her shoulders and softly his teeth grazed her collarbone, making her gasp and cling tighter to his body. He kissed the spot he had nipped, to soothe it and she felt as if she’d melted clean away. Her palms slid down his back to the waistband of his jeans, edging down, an inch away from slipping under his shirt and exploring the naked skin that lay beneath.

  ‘Until tomorrow then,’ he murmured as her fingers stalled at the belt on his jeans.

  Her heart plummeted and she took her hands away.

  ‘Tomorrow,’ she whispered against his shirt as they broke their embrace.

  Then he was gone, leaving her with only the sound of the waves crashing a hundred feet below and the wind rattling the shutters.

  When his footsteps had ceased to echo on the stairs, she unlocked the shutters, leaning out and allowing the breeze to cool her hot cheeks. Despite all her good intentions, she knew her heart was teetering on the edge of a cliff every bit as sheer and dangerous as the one below her window.

  Chapter 21

  By dawn, she’d given up on getting any meaningful sleep so she pulled a tank top over her head, shimmied into her new shorts, and slipped out of the hotel. On the quayside, she found an early morning café that was already buzzing with fishermen and shop workers on their way to work.

  After ordering an espresso, she grabbed a copy of Corse Matin and tried to find the space to think before she had to see Jack again. The previous evening had begun with awkwardness and tension yet had ended with an intimacy that had left her glowing inside even now. Their kiss, so tentative yet so charged, had made her dare to hope there might, perhaps, be a second chance for them in spite of everything. Dropping some coins on the café table, she jumped up, trying to stop herself from skipping back to the hotel.

  He wasn’t in the little breakfast room as she’d expected and she didn’t dare to hope he was sitting on his bed, wondering, like her, what last night had meant—or what would happen next. Too afraid to knock on the door of his room, she repacked her bag, hoping that he might knock on hers.

  When she’d waited as long as she dared, she climbed the stairs down to the reception and checked out, jumping at every tread on the stairs. Outside the hotel reception, a squeal of tires heralded the arrival of Olivier’s minivan in front of the hotel. She flew to the door in time to see him squeeze the car between a delivery van and a moped. Then he strode forward, arms outstretched.

  ‘Bonjour, Beth! I see you are ready, but what about Jacqu
es? He is OK?’

  She returned his kiss. ‘I hope so. I haven’t seen him yet today.’

  Olivier’s eyes glinted in the morning sun. ‘So, you didn’t share your petit déjeuner with him?’

  She managed a smile. ‘No.’

  He raised his eyebrows. ‘I think Jack must have a very bad hangover, not to have woken and had breakfast with you. Maybe too much myrte last night?’

  ‘We went to a restaurant on the marina and then for a coffee and liqueur in one of the bars, but I don’t think either of us had enough to make us miss breakfast.’

  ‘Then perhaps Jacques is just very tired indeed,’ he said, fixing his eyes on her face. ‘Maybe he is having a, how do you say it? A lie-in?’

  She felt her cheeks glowing. ‘I think he must be still packing. How’s Marisa?’ she said brightly, as he stowed her pack in the back of the car.

  His face fell. ‘Ah, I have some news about that. Marisa is not, after all, accompanying us. We have a new traveling companion.’

  She tried to hide her disappointment. ‘Oh, and who’s that?’

  ‘Someone I think, who is connected with your company. A moment, here’s Jack.’

  Jack emerged from the hotel reception, his pack slung over one shoulder. His black T-shirt and cargo shorts showed off his long, tanned legs and arms. He was wearing a pair of black Cebe shades and her heart started to beat a little harder.

  ‘Jacques, mate! Beth tells me you did not have any breakfast. You are a little delicate?’ teased Olivier.

  ‘As a matter of fact mate, I feel fine,’ he said, stealing a glance in Beth’s direction. ‘I took an early call from Martha, my PA.’

  Relief flooded through her. He hadn’t been deliberately avoiding her then. He didn’t seem to be regretting their kiss.

  ‘Bien. Now we have the bags loaded, we should try and leave before it gets too hot.’ said Olivier, checking his watch. ‘But first, we have another trekker to meet and I hope she will be here soon. Ah. I think this may be her.’

  Tottering towards them up the narrow cobbled street from the town was a tall blonde woman wearing a cream suit and sunglasses the size of welding goggles. The woman waved at them and Olivier waved back. Jack seemed to be struck dumb yet as the blonde drew near, he suddenly burst into a smile and strode forward to greet her. Instantly, Beth’s stomach seemed to plunge from almost the highest point of the roller coaster to the very bottom.

  ‘Jack, darling!’

  ‘Camilla,’ said Jack, kissing the blonde on both cheeks.

  Beth bit her lip hard, hoping the horrible lump in her throat would disappear before she burst into tears. The past 24 hours had been a bubble, as fragile as it was beautiful. It had grown and grown in its brightness and now it had just burst in front of her.

  ‘Hello, Beth’ said Camilla, her arm around Jack.

  Beth squeezed out a reply. ‘Um… Hi, Camilla. What a lovely surprise. Are you on a job for the magazine?’

  She puckered her brow and pursed her lips. ‘Oh dear. Hasn’t Jack told you, yet? I’m coming on the trek with you.’

  If fate had been kind, thought Beth, a hole in the ancient cobbles would now open up and swallow her. Jack had invited Camilla on the trip. He had been playing with her the previous night. ‘Oh, I—I didn’t realize…’ she stammered.

  ‘I haven’t told anyone, Cam,’ said Jack, looking hard at Beth before turning to Camilla with a smile. ‘Because I didn’t know you were on the island. Not that we’re not delighted to see you, of course.’

  ‘Really?’ she asked sharply. ‘I thought Olivier had explained everything to you last night. I phoned his office when I arrived at the airport and he said there would be pas de problème.’ She threw a triumphant smile at Beth. ‘No problem whatsoever.’

  Olivier looked downcast. ‘I am afraid that I am to blame. You see, I try to phone you last night but you both have your portables switched off…’

  Camilla narrowed her eyes. ‘Both?’

  ‘Mais oui, but the hotel say you are not in your rooms or the bar, so I sent Marisa round to the reception with a note.’

  ‘Perhaps you were too preoccupied with talking shop?’ offered Camilla.

  ‘Actually, we were,’ said Jack quickly, taking her arm and steering her in the direction of the car. ‘We turned off our phones so we could focus on the planning for the trip.’ He smiled. ‘I’m really sorry we didn’t get your note, Olivier.’

  ‘Maybe the porter forgot to deliver it?’ said Beth as Camilla pursed her lips.

  ‘Maybe you were so hard at work together that you forgot to pick it up,’ she said.

  Jack kissed her cheek. ‘No matter, Cam. You’re here now. Shall we just get on with things?’

  ‘You did say it was an open invitation and when I found from Martha that you’d decided to head out here with one of your staff, how could I not come?’ said Camilla, stroking his arm. ‘After all, the opportunity to get a little R&R and research a feature on one of your tours, all at the same time, was just too tempting to miss. I thought it was a brilliant idea, don’t you think, Jack?’

  Beth sank a little lower into the stone cobbles as he smiled indulgently. ‘It’s fine, Camilla. A little notice might have helped us make you more comfortable, but now you’re here, we’ll do our very best.’

  ‘And how nice of you to write about us, Camilla,’ added Olivier, giving her an apprising look.

  ‘It is, isn’t it?’ she said, treating Olivier to a dazzling smile. ‘It’s a huge coup to get space in our publication you know. I have travel PR’s phoning and emailing me night and day, simply begging me to mention their companies.’

  ‘It’s very generous of you,’ said Jack briskly. ‘But shall we get on our way before it gets too hot?’

  Placing his hand on her elbow, he steered Camilla towards the car. Beth’s heart was now in her scuffed boots. In her beautifully cut cream suit and strappy shoes, Camilla seemed like a rare and exotic butterfly. Beth knew a new pair of shorts and a few highlights couldn’t change that.

  ‘Don’t forget to call at my place!’ warned Camilla as Olivier rattled down a cobbled street, barely missing some tourists and a girl with a tray of pastries.

  ‘Do you have your own place here?’ said Beth in amazement.

  ‘Well, not mine exactly. I’ve borrowed it from a friend. Well, actually he’s the publishing director. Besides, you didn’t possibly think I was going into the wilds dressed like this did you?’

  Just then, she caught sight of Jack in the wing mirror; his face set in an expressionless mask.

  ‘I think Camilla looks très chic,’ called Olivier, as they whizzed past the sea wall. She clutched the grab handle and wondered if she was going to get her first bout of car sickness since her father had taken her round Scotland in an old Ford Mondeo. Minutes later they were hurtling between the gates of a smart marina apartment block. Camilla exited the car as elegantly as she’d got in and stopped by the entrance door. ‘Do you want a quick coffee while I change and collect my luggage?’ she asked.

  ‘Thanks, but we’d better get started if that’s OK,’ said Jack.

  ‘I’ll be five mins, darling. You won’t even know I’ve gone.’

  Half an hour minutes later the car was still parked in the reserved parking space, and after discussing their itinerary, everyone except Olivier had subsided to a stony silence.

  ‘Beth, why don’t you go and see if our guest is OK?’ he asked.

  Jack nodded. ‘Good idea.’

  When she rapped on the door, she found Camilla had changed into tailored navy shorts, a white macrame bikini top and a pair of kitten-heeled flip-flops.

  ‘Nearly ready!’ she trilled. ‘Just need to get my rucksack.’

  Beth could hardly miss the pack, lying huge and bulging on the floor. Jars and bottles and clothes were scattered on the bed.

  ‘Shall I take your bag?’ she asked, not daring to mention the flip-flops.

  ‘I haven’t finished packing yet,’ snapp
ed Camilla.

  Beth picked up the bag anyway. ‘Would you like a hand?’

  Camilla shrugged as she hauled it up off the floor tiles and winced. ‘I hope it won’t be too heavy…’ she said tentatively, worried for Camilla’s sake.

  ‘Well, I’m not taking anything out and I absolutely will not do without my essentials. I have my own bodywash custom-produced by a man in Dulwich Village. If I use mass-produced toiletries, I break out in zits.’

  Beth saw the determined look in her eye and backed down. ‘What about if I take some of your stuff in my pack?’

  ‘Of course, I’m forgetting,’ said Camilla handing over three large plastic bottles and a jar of Crème de la Mer, ‘you’re used to this kind of thing. I expect you could carry an elephant and still not be tired.’

  Olivier and Jack were sitting on the bottom of the apartment steps as Beth struggled down with the rucksacks.

  ‘Jump in Camilla, chérie,’ said Olivier, beaming as he and Jack loaded the bags in the car. ‘Place your lovely derrière on that seat and relax. We will make sure you have a simply marvelous time.’

  ‘Shall we go?’ said Jack, stone-faced as he handed her into the back.

  Camilla swung her legs into the SUV and buckled up. Jack jumped into the front seat and Olivier revved the engine.

  ‘So, Beth,’ she called as they set off. ‘How’s that boyfriend of yours? The used car salesman? Have you set a date for the wedding yet?’

  Chapter 22

  Funny how 36 hours could seem like a lifetime, decided Beth, as she opened her eyes the following morning to find herself alone in the girls’ tent. Next to her lay a crumpled sleeping bag, the Crème de la Mer, and the flip-flops. Camilla had been forced to abandon them within an hour of starting the walk and, with the utmost reluctance, had been persuaded to borrow Beth’s favorite O’Neill trekking sandals. They were still barely halfway through their trek and by now, Beth was praying that Freya might actually find a transporter to beam her back to base.