‘Both.’
‘You might have a stress fracture,’ I said.
He made a face. ‘I don’t do enough to get injured.’
‘If you’ve been training on a treadmill and then moved to the road, you could have done something,’ I said. ‘You should get it looked at when you go home.’
‘It’s happened before,’ he said. ‘It’ll be fine.’
‘Why are men so reluctant to get something seen to?’ I demanded as we went downstairs again.
‘Because we’re afraid we’ll be told it’s something terrible.’ Max grinned at me. ‘And that we’ll be given advice about our lives that we don’t want to take.’
I laughed. We went into the kitchen, where Banquo had taken up a position at the door.
‘Your guard cat.’ Max scratched him behind the ears and Banquo purred with pleasure.
‘He does a good job,’ I said. ‘But I don’t know why he’s taken such a shine to me. I’m sure he has a perfectly good home somewhere.’
‘The cat from the other end of our road adopted us,’ Max remarked as he continued to pet Banquo. ‘We thought he was a stray. It was only when we saw the “Missing” notices on lamp posts that we realised he was using us for extra food.’
‘You might be right about this one too,’ I said as I refilled Banquo’s bowl. ‘He eats like an elephant, and I’m sure he’s put on at least a kilo since I came.’
Despite the fact that it was late afternoon, the sun was still blazing down. I offered Max a glass of water, which he accepted, and the two of us sat in the shade of the umbrella.
‘How long will you stay here?’ he asked.
‘I’m on a three-month leave of absence,’ I said. ‘So I’ll be home before the end of the summer.’
‘I feel bad that you needed it,’ said Max.
‘I won’t lie.’ I put my glass on the table and turned to him. ‘I thought my life had ended when Brad’s did, both because he’d died and because he’d lied. I wasn’t holding it together at work, and that’s why I came here. But I’m over it now. The scars are still there – and they will be for a while yet, I know. They’re scars, though. That’s all.’
‘I think you’re amazing,’ said Max. ‘I’m still coming to terms with it myself, and yet you . . .’
I caught my breath as I realised that, once again, I’d been monumentally self-centred. Most of my conversations with Max about Brad had focused on me. What had happened to me. How I’d felt. What I’d done. But we’d only barely scratched the surface of how he was feeling, and how he was getting over the loss of someone who’d been very close to him.
‘I’m doing all right,’ said Max when I put the question to him. ‘It’s hard, of course. Brad and I were very close. Not as close as I thought, obviously,’ he added with a hint of bitterness. ‘I didn’t know about you, but perhaps that’s why he texted looking for advice. He used to call on me – at least, when it was something practical . . .’ He broke off and gave me a lopsided smile. ‘Maybe that’s what he always needed in his life. Someone practical. That’s who you say you are, isn’t it?’
‘I’m sure his practical needs were well covered by you and his wife,’ I said. ‘I really don’t know if he needed me at all. Maybe he just wanted me and I was available.’
‘I didn’t give much thought to how you were affected,’ said Max. ‘I guess I thought of you as the other woman and somebody who might need to be managed. I didn’t think of you as a person who was grieving.’
‘I didn’t deserve to grieve,’ I said. ‘That should have been reserved for you and the rest of his family. I haven’t thought about your feelings half enough, either. I’ve been too self-obsessed.’
‘Not at all.’ Max reached over to me and took my hand. ‘You were in a relationship with him. You’re entitled to be sad.’ His grip was warm, and firm and comforting. We stayed like that for a moment, then I slid my hand free again.
‘It was hard for a time,’ I said. ‘But I’m better now. I really am. And I’m glad I met you.’
‘I’m glad I met you too,’ said Max.
It seemed wrong to feel good at that moment, but I did. Previously, I thought I’d reached acceptance, but now I knew it had only been a halfway house. This time, I truly had. Not just the acceptance of Brad’s death, difficult though that had been, but also of the type of relationship we’d had. I’d accepted that the life I’d hoped to live with him would never have happened. And I was OK with that. It still hurt. It would always hurt. But I knew that I would never again be almost poleaxed by grief and by missing him. I exhaled slowly and steadily. Then Banquo jumped up on my lap and started kneading my stomach with his claws.
The moment of serenity was broken and I shrieked. Banquo gave me an offended glare.
‘You’ve punctured me in a thousand places,’ I complained. ‘You do it all the time and you don’t care.’
‘I’d better go.’ Max stood up. ‘I know the circumstances were difficult, but it was good of you to meet me and talk to me. And—’
He broke off as we both heard the sound of a car pulling up close to the house. I picked Banquo up from my lap and walked to the edge of the patio.
Luis Navarro got out of a white BMW. He was looking very smart in a dark suit and white shirt.
‘Hola,’ I said. ‘I didn’t expect you here today.’
‘No.’ His eyes flickered between me and Max. ‘I came because my mother wished to invite you to lunch tomorrow. Catalina and José will also be there. Mamá thought that, as you were on your own, you might like to join us. But I see you are not alone, after all.’
‘Luis, Max. Max, Luis,’ I said.
‘Mucho gusto,’ said Luis.
‘Pleased to meet you,’ said Max.
As they shook hands they reminded me of two cats eyeing each other up. I could sense the tension between them. So could Banquo.
‘Juno?’ Luis gave me an inquiring look. ‘You can come? Or no?’
I glanced at Max, who was gazing towards the jacaranda tree.
‘It’s a very kind invitation, thank you.’
‘If your friend wishes to come, he would also be welcome,’ said Luis blandly.
‘I don’t know if—’
‘My flight is at midnight,’ said Max. ‘It would be lovely to join you all for lunch, if you don’t mind, Juno. And if Luis’s parents really want to include someone else in their generous offer.’
‘Of course you must come,’ said Luis. ‘We will see you at two o’clock.’
‘Perfect,’ I said. ‘Please thank your mother, Luis.’
He nodded and walked back to his car.
‘The Navarros live in the adjoining finca,’ I explained. ‘They’ve been very welcoming.’
I felt my face redden as I recalled exactly how welcoming Pep Navarro had been.
Max misunderstood the blush.
‘Oh,’ he said. ‘I didn’t realise. You and Luis are clearly . . . Of course, I won’t come to lunch if I’m in the way. I don’t want to embarrass you.’
‘No,’ I said. ‘It’s not like that at all.’
‘Isn’t it?’ Max gave me a quizzical look. ‘It felt like there was something between you.’
‘He doesn’t trust me,’ I said.
‘Why?’
‘I think he thinks I’m trying to muscle my way into the Perez family, somehow,’ I said. ‘He hates that I’ve done up the house.’
‘That’s daft.’
Max no longer thought I was some kind of marriage-wrecking floozy, so I wasn’t going to tell him that Luis was also wary of me because I was sleeping with his younger brother. I didn’t want him to revise his opinion of me. At least, not this quickly.
‘But the rest of the family is lovely,’ I said. ‘And I’m sure you’ll enjoy meeting them.’
‘I’m looking forward to it,’ said Max.
Then he got into his car and drove away.
I dived into the pool and swam five lengths under the water. When I surfa
ced again, Banquo was sitting by the steps, watching me intently.
‘What?’ I asked as I towelled myself dry. ‘Why are you looking at me like that? Don’t you dare be judgemental. Whatever it is you’re being judgemental about.’
Banquo said nothing. Well, of course he said nothing. He’s a cat. But he didn’t need to be able to speak to somehow impart a general level of disapproval. I just had to figure out exactly what he was disapproving of. And then my phone beeped with a WhatsApp call from Pep.
I didn’t generally use my phone for video calls, because the broadband connection at the Villa Naranja was slow. But I wrapped a towel around me and walked closer to the router to accept Pep’s.
‘Hey!’ His pixellated face finally sharpened into focus. ‘How are you?’
‘Good,’ I said.
‘You have been swimming? I get you out of the pool?’
‘I was out anyway,’ I said. ‘It’s very hot today.’
‘Here also,’ said Pep. ‘There is heatwave coming. The pool is OK? Luis is doing a good job?’
‘Not as good as you,’ I said. ‘He was here a short time ago. Your mum has invited me to lunch tomorrow.’
‘You will go?’ asked Pep.
‘Yes.’
‘I hope you have fun.’
I wasn’t entirely sure about that. I still felt a cloud of disapproval hanging over me whenever Luis Navarro was around.
‘You miss me?’ he asked.
‘Yes,’ I said.
‘I am hoping to come home very soon. My aunt has new person to help her. Is good. I am working lots of hours with no time for anything else.’
I told him that I’d been working too.
‘More painting?’ he asked. ‘Or garden?’
‘I’ve finished painting downstairs,’ I told him. ‘And the garden is looking good too. Maybe I’ll start painting upstairs now.’
‘You are crazy Irish girl,’ said Pep. ‘Nobody comes to Spain in the summer to paint houses.’
‘It wasn’t my original plan,’ I admitted.
‘You have to learn not to be busy all the time,’ he said. ‘You have to learn to just sit.’
‘I’ve been doing nothing but sitting every evening,’ I protested.
‘When I come home I will keep you active in the evening,’ he said with a chuckle.
I missed what he said next as the connection worsened and his face pixellated again. When it refocused, the background behind him had changed. Previously he’d been indoors. Now he was on a balcony overlooking a port.
‘Are you still at your aunt’s house?’ I asked. ‘I thought it was in the country.’
‘At her apartment,’ he said. ‘She has one near the coast. For the summer when she is very busy with the boats.’
‘Does everyone in Spain have a house in the country and an apartment by the sea?’ I asked. ‘It’s what Pilar’s mother wants too.’
‘An apartment by the sea is lovely,’ said Pep. ‘Especially now. The breeze is welcome.’
I knew what he meant. In the last few days the temperature at the Villa Naranja had gone up significantly, and this evening was the warmest and most sultry of my stay so far.
‘Anyway, I look forward to seeing you soon,’ he told me. ‘I hope you have nice day tomorrow.’
‘I’m sure I shall,’ I said. ‘Your parents are lovely.’
‘They think you are lovely too,’ he said.
We said nice things to each other for another couple of minutes. Then he kissed the screen and ended the conversation.
I dreamed about Brad that night for the first time in weeks. We were walking along Custom House Quay, hand in hand, the sunlight glinting off the gunmetal grey of the Liffey and the glass fronts of the buildings opposite. We had walked along the quays together many times. But this time he was telling me about Alessandra.
‘She’s my wife,’ he said. ‘So, obviously, you have to work around that. You can stay in the attic when she’s in the house.’
‘Who will be doing the cooking?’ I asked.
‘She will.’ His response was swift. ‘She’s better at that sort of stuff.’
‘What am I better at?’ I stopped and turned to look at him.
‘The sex, of course,’ he replied.
And then I woke up.
I checked the time on my iPad. Almost six. Nearly daybreak. I lay in the bed staring up at the ceiling. Had I been better in bed? I wondered. Was that why Brad had kept seeing me? Was that why Pep was seeing me now? Was I some kind of total sex kitten who knew how to keep men satisfied? Was that my only appeal?
But Sean had left me, I remembered. So it couldn’t be the sex.
I heard a thud downstairs, which I assumed was Banquo returning from a night on the tiles. His comings and goings didn’t wake me any more but I got up to check, anyhow. When I walked into the kitchen he was sitting in the middle of the floor.
‘Pre-dawn snack?’ I asked.
Banquo never refused food. I unlocked the kitchen door and retrieved his bowl. I filled it and left it on the floor while I stood in the doorway and looked over the garden. It was still very warm and there wasn’t a hint of a breeze. The moon was high in the sky, lighting up the garden. The sudden shriek of an animal startled me, and Banquo’s ears pricked up. I looked towards the jacaranda and shivered.
There are no ghosts, but the things we do live on forever.
So doing the right thing is important.
I poured myself a glass of water and went back to bed.
Chapter 27
When Max arrived at the house just after one forty-five the following day, I was ready and waiting for him. I was wearing the purple sundress with the yellow floral border, and my wedge sandals again, and was thinking that it was just as well my social life was relatively limited in Spain because I was hauling the same clothes out of the wardrobe every time I went out. Max himself was wearing a rather gaudy pink shirt over a pair of chinos.
‘It’s a bit bright,’ he admitted when I complimented him on looking very cheery. ‘But it’s the only holiday-type shirt I have with me. I’ll be changing back into something duller before I head home. My bag’s in the boot. I know my flight isn’t until later tonight, but I don’t mind getting there early.’
I nodded. I’m a bit anal when it comes to getting to the airport early myself, ever since I got stuck in traffic and missed a flight to London. I was going to a friend’s wedding and it cost me a fortune to rebook, so I’m hopelessly paranoid now.
Before we left I put some food in Banquo’s bowl, although he hadn’t returned since our dawn encounter. I left the kitchen window open so that he could access the recycling box if he wanted, then locked the door and the grille of the Villa Naranja.
‘I always thought the grilles were because of crime,’ said Max when I explained why I’d left the window open. ‘I didn’t realise they were for cats!’
I laughed. ‘If I closed up all the windows, the house would be stifling,’ I said. ‘That’s the real reason.’
‘Isn’t there air conditioning?’ he asked.
The Villa Naranja had two units: one in the living room, and another in the bedroom I was using. I hadn’t bothered switching them on before now because, although it had been warm, the big celling fans were usually enough to keep the air reasonably comfortable. But if things continued like the last few days, I told him, I could see myself giving in.
‘They have super-chilled air con in the hotel,’ he remarked. ‘It’s actually quite nice to feel warm.’
We got into the car and I directed Max down the road to the Navarro house. I hopped out to ring the bell on their gate, which then swung gently inwards.
‘I could get used to this,’ said Max. ‘Big detached houses with electric gates and driveways.’
‘Where do you live?’ I asked, surprised at myself that I hadn’t asked the question before.
‘Donnybrook,’ he replied. ‘I bought one of those little artisan cottages in the village a couple of yea
rs ago.’
‘Oh.’ I was still surprised. ‘I thought you’d have been in Belfast.’
‘I’ve lived in Dublin for years,’ said Max. ‘I went to college in Cork. I don’t get back to Belfast that often, to be honest – though, obviously, over the last couple of months I’ve had to be there a lot.’
‘I did wonder why your accent was so different to Brad’s,’ I told him.
‘He used to tease me about it,’ said Max as he brought the car to a stop. ‘My mum is from Cork, and she never lost her accent. I was born there, so that’s why I chose to go to college there too.’
We got out and walked around to the back of the house. Once again, the long table was set and the green umbrellas were open. But although it recalled the last photo Brad had sent, the sight wasn’t the hammer blow it had been before. Beside me, though, I could feel Max’s sharp intake of breath and I glanced at him.
‘It looks like Italy,’ he said. ‘Brad—’
‘I know.’ I took his hand and squeezed it. ‘He sent me the same photo.’
Elena Navarro was already walking towards us, smiling in welcome. She kissed me on both cheeks and ushered me towards the table where Miguel was pouring glasses of wine. Behind him, an enormous paella was already cooking on the fire.
‘Men cook the paellas here.’ I repeated the information Rosa had given me. ‘Apparently, it’s like barbecuing.’
Max laughed. I introduced him to Miguel, who shook his hand and offered him a glass of wine. Max refused, saying that he had to drive to the airport later, and it was Elena who bustled forward and gave him a glass of minted water. Meanwhile, Catalina and José arrived, this time without Xavi, although baby Agata was wriggling in her mother’s arms.
‘Xavi is at my sister’s in Calpe,’ she said.
I hadn’t been to Calpe, which was another costal town about half an hour’s drive from Beniflor. Catalina told us that her sister worked in a language school there. Every few weeks Xavi stayed with her for a sleepover. Liliana had a son of around the same age.
‘Although no husband,’ Catalina said to me while Max got into conversation with José and Miguel. ‘Daniel’s father lives in Bilbao, which is not very convenient.’
I knew Bilbao was on the northern coast, so it had to be a good distance.
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