Afterwards, Caragh snapped shut her phone in satisfaction. Silly cow, she thought. What difference did the hideous Hannah Baldwin think a mere nose job was going to make?
13
The next few days saw a mighty heatwave. The lanes around Mariscombe were crawling with camper vans and Porsches, the former looking for somewhere to park, the latter looking for somewhere to stay. There was a national skive as people wilted in the heat and gravitated to the coast for some fresher air.
‘If only we’d been ready,’ groaned George, working out on his calculator what they could have made.
‘But we’re not. And there’s no way we could have been. So there’s no point in worrying about it,’ said Lisa.
Victoria printed off a load of leaflets announcing their imminent opening and bribed Mimi to go and stick them under windscreen wipers in the public car park.
‘Only Porsches, BMWs, Audis and Jeeps,’ she instructed. ‘Range Rovers if they’re private reg. Discoveries if they’re less than three years old. New Beetles – not the old ones. Minis if they’re convertible with leather upholstery. And avoid anything with child seats like the plague –’
‘For God’s sake, just do the whole lot!’ exclaimed George. ‘We need all the custom we can get. Personally, I don’t mind if they’re driving Robin Reliants.’
Lisa picked up the leaflet.
‘You’re offering fifty per cent off!’ she protested. ‘We didn’t agree that.’
‘A limited number of rooms available at this special price.’ Victoria pointed out the small print patiently. ‘And obviously they won’t be available if they ring up.’
‘That’s fraud.’
‘No. It’s an introductory offer.’
Lisa looked at George, who shrugged.
‘Fine,’ said Lisa wearily. ‘I’m off to the warehouse in Bristol for towels and bedding.’
As Victoria and George opened their mouths, she put up a hand to stop them.
‘I know. I know. White, white. And more white. High thread count. Egyptian acrylic. Down from Hungarian geese raised on south-facing slopes. Whatever.’
She flashed them a smile, fond but exasperated, as she left the room. Since her conversation with Bruno a few days before, she’d gained in confidence and learned to deal with George and Victoria. Besides, she had to admit that Victoria was mellowing. Once or twice she had actually taken Lisa’s side against George. In fact, if the truth was known, Lisa was beginning to warm to her. It was nice to have another woman in the house to giggle with and moan about cellulite. Not that Victoria had any, but she liked to pretend she did. Lisa had basically fallen back on the old adage that if you can’t beat them, join them, and it seemed to be working well. Victoria had been incredibly helpful and Mimi was certainly no trouble – they’d barely seen her; she flitted in and out to change her clothes between working down at the beach and going out in the evening.
And, anyway, Lisa told herself, they’d soon be gone. They couldn’t stay here after the hotel was actually open, after all. There simply wasn’t room.
‘Do you really think it’s safe to let her choose the duvet covers?’ asked Victoria once Lisa had gone. ‘She might spot a bargain and come back with something nasty and floral.’
‘I don’t think so,’ said George, but he wasn’t confident. He had a dim memory of Lisa’s duvet cover in Stratford and it had definitely had flounces. Definitely.
Mimi was looking at them in distaste.
‘You two are complete control freaks, do you know that?’
‘Yep,’ said Victoria happily.
Mimi turned away. Inside she was churning with guilt. Don’t bottle out now, she told herself. Mum needs George. Mum needs George. Lisa will have men queuing up to console her. She’s a coper. A doer. A manager. It will be a minor blip in her life.
She forced herself to visualize the future that she saw for them, to give her the motivation for what she was about to do. Mum and George at the helm of The Rocks, which would become the hippest hotel in the West Country. Meanwhile, she and Matt would become the hot new couple in town. She could go and do theatre studies at the college in Bamford – she’d already looked into it. Or maybe she could open a shop, selling her own label surf clothing. The possibilities were endless.
There was just one small sacrifice to be made in order for this nirvana to be reached. She’d go to the post office this morning, after she’d handed out the leaflets. Mimi pulled on her crocheted sunhat, stuck her feet into her day-glo flip-flops and set off down the hill.
That morning George had set himself the task of oiling the new decking they’d had laid outside the dining room, a particularly smelly and dirty task, but one which had to be done while the weather was dry and it was certainly that. By one o’clock he was drenched with sweat and suspected he might have sunstroke. He decided he’d go and get himself a little bottle of beer and a sandwich.
As he headed back in through the French doors he spotted Victoria curled up on a picnic rug in the shade of a tree, leafing through some papers, a pen tucked behind her left ear. She smiled up at him.
‘I was just going to get a bite to eat,’ he said. ‘Do you fancy something?’
‘Lovely. I’m starving.’
He went through the dining room and into the kitchen. The house felt eerily quiet and he was suddenly aware that this was the first time he and Victoria had been properly alone together since her arrival. Lisa was out, Mimi was out, the decorators were off on another job while the bathrooms were being finished. He rummaged in the fridge and found some ham and tomatoes, then quickly assembled a plate of sandwiches. He filled a jug with a couple of bottles of beer and topped it up with lemonade, then put everything on a tray with plates and glasses, adding a bowl of crisps and a couple of rosy apples for good measure. Then he wandered back outside.
‘Nothing like an impromptu picnic. Though it’s not exactly gourmet, I’m afraid.’
‘It’s perfect. Come and sit down.’ Victoria patted the rug next to her invitingly. ‘You look as if you could do with a rest.’
‘How are things going, anyway?’ asked George as he sat, placing the tray carefully between them.
‘You know what?’ said Victoria, reaching out for a sandwich. ‘I’ve put on three pounds already since I’ve been here and I don’t care. Normally, I’d be slitting my wrists or checking myself into some clinic to have my jaw wired. But I really couldn’t give a toss. It doesn’t matter in this place what you look like.’
‘I’ve never seen you look better.’
George was perfectly genuine. Victoria looked softer. Her hair was twisted up into a clip, tendrils falling down round her face. She wore hardly any make-up, and the sun had brought out the freckles dusted across her nose that were usually covered in foundation. She was wearing a turquoise kaftan over a bikini and beaded flip-flops. He ran his eyes along her legs, the smooth, hairless calves, the knees she always complained were knobbly but that he used to love to kiss behind, her thighs with the sprinkling of pale golden hairs that were almost invisible to the naked eye…
George tore his eyes away and hastily poured them each a shandy, waiting for the foam to subside before he passed her a glass.
‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘And… thank you for letting us stay.’
George gave a small, non-committal nod.
‘I can’t believe the change in Mimi,’ Victoria went on. ‘She’s so happy. Vivacious.’
‘I know. It suits her down here.’
‘She seems to have real friends. Proper friends. And I think there’s a boy involved, though she hasn’t said as much.’ Victoria bit her lip, anguished. ‘What am I going to do, Georgie? I know I can’t crash at The Rocks forever. It’s not fair on you.’
‘What do you want to do?’
‘I’d love to stay around here. It’s just a question of whether I can earn any money in this area. And I’d have to find somewhere to rent. I can’t afford to buy, that’s certain. Trouble is, I know the area’
s gone mad but I don’t know if they’re ready for PR yet. There’s a guy on the beach who teaches surfing – he was talking to me about needing some publicity. And there’s a couple of new restaurants opening. But it’s not like anyone’s got a PR budget… And what else do I do?’ Victoria looked at him, her green eyes troubled. ‘I’d open a shop but I haven’t got any capital. Fucking bastard Nick Taverner. He didn’t need my money.’
A big fat tear rolled down her cheek. George found himself wanting to say all sorts of things, not least that Nick Taverner had ended up with her money because she’d been spectacularly stupid. But she didn’t need telling that.
‘Hey,’ he said softly. ‘Don’t cry. We’ll sort something out.’
He went to wipe away her tear with his thumb. She put out her hand and held him by the forearm. For a moment they stared at each other, then she put her lips to the inside of his wrist. His pulse was beating at an incredible rate. She must be able to feel it. Despite himself he put out his fingers to stroke her face, to cup it in his hand. Her eyes closed, she ran her mouth over his palm, then over the tips of each finger.
He should never have touched her. He knew that. But he just couldn’t resist, because the memory had never faded. She was the only woman who had ever made him lose his self-control. It was pure animal instinct that made him pull her to him and kiss her savagely. George, who could always be relied upon to keep his head, was a man bewitched. At that moment, he would have gladly given up everything just to feel her skin against his, her mouth, to run his hands through her hair.
When their lips met, it was incredible. Could he stop here? George wondered wildly. A kiss was excusable. A kiss could be a gesture of fondness, reassurance; he could justify it to himself later, no problem. Just pull away, he told himself. Be strong –
Strong? Jesus, who was he trying to kid? No man on earth would be able to resist. He ran his hands up the inside of her chiffon kaftan, recalling each familiar rib with the tips of his fingers, then finally reaching her breasts. She gave a whimper, as she always did, as he brushed her nipples.
Before he knew it, they were rolling around on the picnic rug like a pair of randy teenagers. And George didn’t care. The only thing he wanted in the whole world was to take her, have her, ravish her, feel himself inside her. Dropping his shorts in a frenzy and pulling her bikini bottoms to one side, the next moment he was. And as her muscles tightened in convulsion around him he let himself go, in a climax that seemed to last a lifetime. As he shrank to nothing, she let herself fall on to his chest, so they could feel their hearts pounding together, their sweat mingling.
‘Shit.’
‘I know,’ breathed Victoria. ‘That was amazing.’
‘I don’t mean shit wow,’ said George grimly, extricating himself and pulling his shorts back up. ‘I mean shit I shouldn’t have done that.’
‘Listen,’ she said. ‘Don’t worry. It never happened. I’m sorry.’
She gave a twisted little smile.
‘It’s a long time since I’ve had a shag.’
George didn’t reply. It stung him to hear what had just happened referred to as a shag. To him, it had been almost spiritual. That moment of simultaneous orgasm had felt like a real bond, an incredible moment when time was suspended. He told himself not to be so fanciful. Victoria was right – it was just a shag, and shags often tried to masquerade as something deep and meaningful.
He should be grateful Victoria was being so sensible for once. He was amazed that she didn’t leap upon his weakness straightaway and start manipulating him. It was a pretty fierce weapon, after all. If she chose to use it, his whole world would be blown a part in an instant.
‘So,’ he said shakily, re-buttoning his shorts with trembling fingers. ‘Where do we go from here?’
Victoria adjusted her clothing, pulling back down her kaftan so she was decent. She lifted her hair from the back of her neck, in a gesture that made his heart hammer even faster. It was still pounding furiously, but now more from panic than the exertion of sex.
‘I mean, what do we do?’ he gabbled. ‘You can’t stay at The Rocks much longer, Victoria. It’s not fair on any of us.’
‘I know.’
She took both of his hands in hers, staring into his eyes with a mixture of fondness and regret.
‘I’m just so sorry I blew it. I can’t believe I was such a crazy, fucked-up bitch and destroyed what we had. You were the only good thing that ever happened to me, George, and I chucked you away like last season’s shoes. But that’s just me all over, isn’t it?’ She sighed. ‘Do you think I’ll ever get another chance? With someone else?’
‘I’m sure you will.’ George did his best to sound convincing, but at that moment he would gladly have killed anyone who stepped into the frame and tried to win her affections.
‘Hey, you,’ said Victoria. ‘You’d better take a shower.’
She ran a finger down his chest, which was glistening with perspiration. He shivered. Should he say it now? Should he say fuck it, he’d have her back? Face the music with Lisa? Destroy everything they’d built up? Create total chaos and mayhem? Safe in the knowledge that he would be plunging straight back into a life fraught with danger, insecurity, tantrums and histrionics. Victoria could say what she liked, but George was fairly certain she hadn’t changed. Not deep down. But it had to be worth the risk. They’d just proved that. And he’d take control this time. Remind her of the lesson she’d learned.
Luckily for George, at that moment Justin came round the corner, back from his trip.
‘What have you two been up to?’ he demanded.
‘Fucking like snakes,’ drawled Victoria. ‘This heat always makes me incredibly horny.’
She picked up her paperwork and wandered off. George could barely meet Justin’s suspicious gaze as he hastily jumped to his feet and picked up the lunch tray.
‘I hope you haven’t.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not a fool.’
Justin looked at him coldly.
‘You’d better go and have a shower before Lisa gets back. You reek of it.’
‘I’ve been treating the decking!’
‘Yeah, right.’ Justin looked him up and down with distaste. ‘Just get your brain out of your dick and put it back where it belongs, will you?’
George clutched the sides of the tray for strength. He really did feel peculiar. The morning’s exertion, the heat, the shandy, the sex, being nearly caught out… his head was swimming. For a moment he thought longingly of a lie-down, but that was out of the question.
He smiled winningly at Justin, hoping to distract him.
‘Come and have a look at what’s been done while you’ve been away.’
Later that afternoon, when Justin had admired the transformation that had taken place during his absence, he cornered Victoria as she came out of her room. She was looking deceptively demure, in a white cotton cardigan and linen skirt, a silk camellia tucked behind her ear. Justin wasn’t taken in for a moment. He grabbed hold of her hair and pulled her head back, holding her against his chest as if he was taking her hostage.
‘I don’t know what you think you’re playing at, but pack it in now,’ he breathed into her ear.
‘Stop it, Justin. You’re turning me on.’
She tried to squirm out of his grasp, but he tugged harder on her hair. He knew it was hurting because she took a sharp breath in, but she still fought back.
‘Not that you’d be up for it, of course. I don’t know why you don’t admit it.’
‘Admit what?’
‘I’m not your type, am I? After all, I’m the wrong sex.’
Justin gave a bitter bark of laughter.
‘You think I’m gay? Just because I don’t fancy you? Don’t flatter yourself.’
‘No, darling. Because you’re in love with George.’
Justin released his grip on her hair and she twisted round until they were face to face. The two of them locked gazes, staring into each other�
�s eyes, as if the first to look away would be the one to lose.
‘Why else would you buy into this place?’ she taunted. ‘It was just so you could be near him. And it’s why you don’t want me around, isn’t it? Because you know I drive him insane with lust. Lisa’s not a threat. Lisa doesn’t get under his skin. Lisa’s safe. Plus she doesn’t mind having you around, because she’s as naive as George is.’ She laughed. ‘I’m amazed George has never sussed it. Why else have you never had a girlfriend? Only those flaky little fag hags who only hang off your every word because you give them money. And why else do you follow those cute little metal bands around, lusting after their tight arses? And as for the beach here, well – you must be in seventh heaven. All those tanned surfer dudes to drool over.’
She finished her tirade with a brilliant smile of triumph. It was all Justin could do not to put his hands round her throat and throttle her. He gazed back at her coldly.
‘For your information, I’m not gay. I’m just not particularly interested in sex. To my mind, it messes everything up. It stops you getting on with the important things in life. Therefore I am not, as you so smugly assume, in love with George. I happen to respect and admire him. He’s one of the few people in the world who isn’t a total jerk – except when he comes into contact with you. So I will do everything in my power to make sure you are out of his life.’
Victoria gave him a slow hand clap.
‘Beautifully spoken.’ Her voice was mocking. ‘Lucky old George, to inspire such loyalty in his friends. It’ll be interesting to see where his loyalties lie, I must say.’
Justin watched her sashay back down the corridor, bubbling with hatred, thinking that if he’d had a gun on him at that moment he would quite happily have shot her. In the back as well. That was the thing about Victoria. You couldn’t be ambivalent about her. You either loved her or hated her.
Love on the Rocks Page 29