by Emlyn Rees
‘What do you mean, darling?’
‘Oh, nothing. He’s just not being his usual self.’ Rachel knew Claire wouldn’t have mentioned it unless it was a real problem. ‘He seems a bit panicky, that’s all. It’s probably just stress.’
Rachel thought back to the funeral, remembering how Sam had stuttered and been so strange when she’d announced he was taking over the business. At the time, she’d been more concerned with Christopher’s and Nick’s reactions to her announcement. She’d seen immediately that they’d been jealous and annoyed and she’d had to take them both aside and remind them that Sam, as a trusted member of their family, had done more for her and Tony than either of them could possibly have ever imagined. She was still annoyed that she’d had to shame them into being supportive.
But now, looking back, Rachel felt guilty for not paying more attention to Sam, for not having checked if he was OK at the time.
‘He’s not annoyed I asked him to take over, is he? I mean, I thought he would have wanted it. It’s what Tony would have wanted. I thought he was pleased. I thought it was the right thing –’
‘Oh God,’ Claire groaned, shaking her head. ‘I should never have said anything. Listen, forget I mentioned it. Sam’s thrilled with the promotion, as am I. He’s not taking enough time off, that’s all. I tell him all the time to chill out, but you know what he’s like. He’s stopped sailing and going to the gym. It’s just work, work, work. I hardly see him any more.’
Rachel could sense how upset Claire was. She loved Sam desperately.
‘I’ll talk to him,’ Rachel assured her.
‘Please don’t,’ Claire begged, but only half-heartedly. Then she picked up Archie. ‘I didn’t come here to talk about my problems. Come on, let’s go out and cheer ourselves up.’
It wasn’t until late the following afternoon that Rachel had the chance to talk to Laurie again alone. She was surprised to learn from Dante, the gardener, that Laurie was using the old boathouse as her studio down on the beach. How strange that Laurie should choose such a secluded, inaccessible spot to work when the house had such wonderful light.
As she made her way down the path, Rachel realised that it had been ages since she’d been to the beach. There was so many wonderful aspects to Sa Costa, but she seemed to have forgotten how to enjoy them. But then, she’d hardly had the time. She’d been swamped with visits from friends on the island, Maria’s mother, who wanted every detail of the funeral, a delivery from Fabio who brought his new baby (on the moped). She’d also made a short trip into the Ararat offices to catch up with the staff.
She’d been in constant contact with the office via fax, but going there herself had been a total shock. The plush offices, which Rachel had chosen herself for their secluded courtyard location in Palma’s old town, had been completely rearranged. Sam had installed a new secretary, receptionist and a whole new team of marketing staff. Rachel had tried not to show how dismayed she’d felt, but as Maria showed her into the boardroom, with its new utilitarian furniture, Rachel had felt close to tears. She wasn’t in charge any more. The whole atmosphere of the company seemed to have changed.
Still, everyone she’d met seemed to be pleased to see her, although she’d found the baffled glances she’d received from the new people quite disconcerting. Feeling as if she were in the way, she’d decided not to stay long, but the discreet enquiries she’d managed to make about Sam had revealed nothing untoward. The opposite, in fact. All the staff members she’d spoken to seemed happy and business was booming.
If anything, though, this had made Rachel more anxious. Because if it wasn’t work that was getting Sam stressed, then what on earth was it? Tony. That was the only answer. Like her, Sam must be grieving. And also, like her, he probably needed some time to relax.
Down on the beach, Rachel approached Laurie’s new work space from the side entrance. With the front and the back doors wide open, the old shed was filled with light and the sound of the water gently lapping on the shore.
Laurie was at the far end, working on a canvas. She had her back turned and Rachel couldn’t see the look of concentration on her face, but she could sense Laurie’s intensity, even from several metres away. An upturned rusty oil drum was next to her. On top of it were several mixing boards of paint, a jug of water and a small radio, which was playing a crackly Spanish guitar piece. The weathered concrete floor was covered in sand and a few lumps of gnarled driftwood. In the middle, an ancient peeling rowing boat was filled with cushions, a towel and a swimming costume were drying over its side.
Dotted around the walls, several canvases were propped up, some of them supported by old pieces of rope hanging from the ceiling. They were all similarly themed – large abstract sunsets and seascapes – the colours perfectly blended and merged, the light in each one captured perfectly.
But as Rachel stepped inside the shed to get a better look, Laurie made a small yelp and raced towards her, the colour high in her cheeks.
‘Half of these aren’t finished,’ she said, barring Rachel’s view. ‘I’d rather show you when they’re done.’
Rachel took a step back outside the shed. She hadn’t come across anyone as stubborn as Laurie for as long as she could remember. Well, probably not since she’d last seen Bill.
‘Listen, I’m sorry about yesterday,’ Rachel said, as Laurie came out to join her. ‘I guess I overreacted.’
Laurie pulled a dirty rag from the waistband of her shorts and wiped her hands. ‘Why upset her when she doesn’t need to know?’
‘Well, thank you. For everything. For doing that for me.’
‘I’d better get used to it, hadn’t I? If I’m to persuade Dad to come out here.’
She said it flippantly, as if it were no big deal, but Rachel could tell that she meant it. She stared at Laurie, tongue-tied.
‘Anything else?’ Laurie asked, obviously keen to get on.
‘No,’ Rachel answered.
‘OK, well, I’ll be up to the house when the light fades,’ Laurie said, turning away.
Rachel remembered another reason for her visit: to tell Laurie about Sam and Claire coming for dinner. But Laurie was already walking back to her canvas and Rachel didn’t want to disturb her again. She hesitated and then turned up back towards the path.
Rachel was used to people in her life being transparent, or if not transparent, then at least clear in their motives. But as she prepared dinner later on, she realised that it was different with Laurie. She sensed a private, passionate side to Laurie which intrigued her. Just seeing how she’d transformed the old boat shed had shown Rachel how sensual she was, and she was even more intrigued by the glimpse she’d had of Laurie’s secretiveness.
Which was why she didn’t hesitate when Laurie’s mobile phone rang just before suppertime. Laurie had left it on the small table by the door and it was only after Rachel had pressed the green button to answer it that she realised how stupid she’d been. What if it had been Bill?
But a second later, as James Cadogan introduced himself, all thoughts of Bill vanished. Here he was, Rachel thought, marvelling at her good fortune as she grilled red peppers and the impressive young man at the same time. Here was the chink in Laurie’s armour. Laurie had a new lover! And in no time Rachel was already concocting a plan.
By the end of the short call, Rachel was smiling. Not only had she conspired with James on a sure-fire plan to cheer Laurie up and get her to relax, but in a few minutes she’d found out more about Laurie than from a whole morning of chatting. Why on earth hadn’t she mentioned James? He was wonderful. Rachel was so excited about her secret with him, she was itching to run down to the beach and tell Laurie.
But then, she started to get nervous. What if Laurie hadn’t mentioned James for a reason? She’d had plenty of opportunity during their conversations to bring up her love life and to talk about her feelings. Now Rachel started to panic, cursing herself for being so rash. What if she’d assumed too much? What if she’d accidentally put he
r foot in it?
But her thoughts didn’t get any further before she heard the screech of tyres on the driveway. Rachel turned down the grill and went to open the front door. As she got there, she saw Claire and Sam getting out of Claire’s light blue Audi convertible. There was a faint whiff of rubber from where Claire had braked. Claire slammed her car door and stormed towards the house, tottering purposefully in her high heels and skimpy jeans.
‘Tell him to stop being so bad-tempered,’ she snapped, storming past Rachel into the house.
Sam, who’d shut his passenger door more carefully, walked towards Rachel who was holding the front door open. He slung the jacket of his cream linen suit over his shoulder, holding it by the hook. He looked as if he’d just come from work.
‘Hi.’ Sam stooped wearily to kiss Rachel’s cheek. Even if Claire hadn’t mentioned Sam being anxious to her, she would’ve been able to tell. He looked as if the new burden of responsibility she’d given him had made him suddenly older. His tanned face was less boyish, with more lines around his eyes than she remembered. It suited him. Rachel knew that Sam was one of those men who would only become more attractive with age. Even with a shadow of stubble around his chin, he looked undeniably handsome.
Rachel wished she could hug him and tell him that whatever his row with Claire was about, she was proud of him. Just being around Archie and Claire, not to mention Laurie, these past few days had been such a tonic. And now that Sam was here, the Mallorcan branch of her family was complete.
‘Sam, darling, I’ve missed you so much,’ she said, honestly, as she drew him into the house and shut the door. ‘You’ve hardly been around.’
Sam smiled wearily and she saw the hint of the charm she knew so well. ‘You can’t have it all,’ he said. ‘If you will give me a company to run, what do you expect?’
Rachel smiled back. She wanted to mention her trip into the office today, but she was worried that he would think she was interfering. She’d handed over the reins to him, after all; she had to trust him. If she mentioned Ararat, he might think she was snooping behind his back. No, this was family time and she would have to start learning to separate the two.
‘Do you want me to give you two a moment?’ she asked, looking through the open double doors into the living room towards where Claire had disappeared out on to the terrace. A trail of her cigarette smoke lingered with her perfume in the air.
‘No,’ Sam said. ‘It’s nothing. It’s just a silly argument about Archie,’ he added, unconvincingly. ‘You know what Claire’s like – she’ll have forgotten all about it in a minute. Why don’t I fix us some drinks?’
‘That would be lovely.’
But Rachel’s plans for a relaxing dinner failed to materialise. Laurie, on her return from the beach, seemed unduly annoyed that Rachel had failed to tell her that she was expected to join them for dinner, or indeed that people were over for dinner at all. Huddled in a towel, her hair in rat’s tails from where she’d been for an evening swim in the sea, she greeted Sam and Claire with a slightly aloof air that irked Rachel.
Rachel tried to smooth things over and play it down, but after Laurie had showered and joined them outside, she seemed withdrawn and contemplative. It was too late for Rachel to apologise for her social blunder and she kicked herself for not having warned Laurie. Instead, she had no choice but to carry on as if nothing had happened. Yet the more she tried to inject some fun into the evening, the more tension she could sense around the dinner table. Only Claire seemed to be making an effort, trying to draw Laurie into conversation – and failing every time.
Meanwhile, Sam glowered in silence, taking no interest in the conversation, as he busied himself with the barbecue on the terrace. Rachel watched him, as he turned over the chicken kebabs and steaks, the aromatic smell from the marinade she’d made from the garden herbs and local wine filling the night air. He was obviously still fuming over the spat he’d had with Claire in the car.
It wasn’t until dinner was over and the night had turned chilly and Claire had taken the dirty plates inside, giving an ‘I told you so’ look to Rachel as she passed, that Rachel decided that the time had come to tackle Sam.
‘Sam, I was thinking: you must take Laurie out on Flight,’ Rachel said, watching Sam’s face in the soft glow of the candles on the table.
‘I’m sure Laurie has better things to do than come sailing –’
‘Nonsense. You’d love it, wouldn’t you, Laurie?’
‘Well, I . . .’ Laurie raised her eyebrows, clearly embarrassed, Rachel deduced, by Sam’s reticence, but Rachel wasn’t going to be put off. She stretched across the table and poured more red wine into Laurie’s glass and into her own.
‘The boat’s Sam’s pride and joy. He sails so well.’
‘I’ve hardly had the time, recently,’ Sam mumbled, putting his hand over the top of his glass to bar Rachel from pouring him any more wine. She put the bottle back, disappointed. She knew that Sam would relax if he had a few more drinks. How often had they all sat here on the red-cushioned chairs, the scent of jasmine from the trellis around the dining area, making it an oasis of calm? Rachel loved sitting out here at night surrounded by her family. It was one of her favourite places. Sam had once said it was one of his, too.
‘All the more reason that you should go, then. Take Laurie out for a spin. Show her the bay. I bet you’ve never seen the whole bay of Palma from the sea.’
‘Only on a postcard,’ Laurie said, quietly.
Sam held the stem of his empty glass and stared at it. Rachel knew him well enough to know that he was angry, but couldn’t fathom out why he was being so deliberately obstructive. Why wasn’t he making more of an effort to be friendly towards Laurie? It was so unlike him. One of the qualities Rachel had always admired so much about Sam was his ability to make people feel special. Where had his charm disappeared to? she wondered. Well, she wasn’t going to stand for it.
‘Sam, I don’t know why you’re being difficult, but I think you should make a date, right now. Otherwise you won’t do it. You’ll get too busy –’
‘Rachel, it’s a nice thought, but I really want to get on with my painting,’ Laurie pleaded. ‘Can’t we –’
What was wrong with everyone today? They were all behaving like spoilt children. Well, fine, she’d treat them like that, too, and force them into going whether they liked it or not. Why shouldn’t she? After all, it was for their own good.
‘Next Tuesday,’ she said, throwing her blue linen napkin on the table. ‘Sam, you’re obviously working far too hard. I want you to take the whole day off and enjoy yourself. And, Laurie, you need a break, too. I’m not having any arguments. It’s next Tuesday. It’s a public holiday, so there won’t be a problem with work.’
‘Next Tuesday what?’ asked Claire, coming back with a cardigan for Rachel.
‘Sam’s taking Laurie sailing on his boat.’ Rachel put the cardigan on.
‘Is he now? Well, I’d rather you than me,’ Claire laughed. ‘I can’t stand it. It’s so . . . splashy. And I warn you, he’ll squash you when he’s changing tack.’
Laurie took a small sip of wine. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t even smile.
‘Well, I think it’ll do you both the world of good,’ Rachel said, hoping that Claire would be pleased that she’d kept up her end of the bargain and had forced Sam into some leisure time. She hadn’t expected it to be such hard work.
‘Absolutely. That’s what I’ve been telling him,’ Claire said, walking behind Sam and planting a kiss on the top of his head. ‘I try to exercise him as best I can, but it’s not the same as fresh air, I suppose.’
Sam shirked away from her, clearly irritated and embarrassed by such an obvious innuendo.
‘What!’ Claire laughed at him.
Sam suddenly shifted back in his chair, forcing Claire to move out of the way. ‘You know what?’ he said. ‘I’m getting cold too. I think it’s time we headed back home.’
‘You can’t g
o yet.’ Rachel thought he was joking.
‘I’ve got an early meeting,’ Sam explained, rising from his chair. ‘Thank you for dinner, Rachel.’
In spite of Claire’s protests, Sam couldn’t be swayed and it wasn’t long before he kissed both Rachel’s cheeks and nodded towards Laurie. ‘I’ll see you next week, then,’ he said.
Less than five minutes after Claire’s car had sped up the driveway, Laurie made her excuses and retired to her room.
Left alone, Rachel pulled the cardigan tighter around her and buried her nose into the soft fibres, smelling the faint aroma of cigar smoke. It reminded her so strongly of Tony that she felt weak sadness and self-pity.
Tonight had been a disaster. Everything was crumbling around her and her lack of control made her feel more lonely than ever. If only Tony had been there, then Sam and Claire would have been happy and Laurie would –
Laurie wouldn’t have been there, she reminded herself. No wonder it was so difficult playing happy families when she’d changed all the rules.
Chapter XII
Stepmouth, May 1953
Bill’s friend, Richard Horner, was humming softly to himself as he continued his slow tour of inspection of the Jowett Jupiter, lovingly trailing his fingers across the car’s sleek waxed black bodywork that he and Bill had been busy polishing all morning.
‘It’s not a woman, you know, Richard,’ Bill laughed.
‘No,’ Richard agreed, ‘but there’s plenty of them who’ll want to ride in it with you and it’ll probably turn out to be a hell of a lot more reliable than any of them.’ He winked at Bill. ‘Though if the girls turn out to be faster than the car,’ he joked, ‘then I bet you’ll not be disappointed, either.’
Richard was Bill’s closest friend in the town. Nearly a foot shorter than Bill, he was a hard, straightforward man with a wiry figure and an angular face.
Bill and Richard’s friendship stretched back to playing football together at school and after-school clubs. Richard had trained up as a mechanic in the army and Bill had been best man when Richard had married his childhood sweetheart, Rosie, four years before.