In the Shade of the Blossom Tree

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In the Shade of the Blossom Tree Page 21

by Joanna Rees


  But it was only when she’d finally psyched herself up enough to ask Paige where she and Hud now stood that she realized it wasn’t the financial severance that was frightening her. It was the horrible concept of being permanently emotionally rejected that now sent a tremor down her spine.

  ‘So how is Hud?’ she asked. ‘With regard to me?’

  Paige grimaced. She’d clearly been dreading the question. ‘Hud? I guess he’s pretty much the same,’ Paige said, but there was something in her tone of voice that made Savvy remember the night at La Paris, when she had been on her drunken rampage.

  ‘Does he know you sorted all this out? Does he know you’re here?’

  Paige nodded. ‘Yes,’ she said, but Savvy noticed a hesitation.

  ‘But . . . ?’ What’s he told you to say? Doesn’t he even care how I am?

  ‘Sav, he’s still very bitter,’ Paige said.

  ‘You mean he doesn’t want to see me?’

  ‘No. Not yet . . .’

  ‘Not even now that I’ve sorted myself out?’

  ‘He knows rehab might have helped . . .’

  ‘Only helped?’ Savvy couldn’t believe she’d been to all that effort and none of it meant anything to him.

  ‘Listen,’ Paige said. ‘And this isn’t easy for me to say. But your behaviour – particularly around Elodie’s death . . . your behaviour compared to hers . . . the comparison between what he’s lost and what he still has . . . It makes it all ten times worse, don’t you see?’

  Hud still hated her. She’d been measured against her saintly sister and found wanting again.

  ‘I’ve been giving it a lot of thought,’ Paige said. ‘And I hope you don’t think I’m interfering, but I was thinking that maybe you could . . . I don’t know . . . go to college?’

  ‘College?’

  ‘Well, Sav, you’ve got to do something,’ she said. ‘And it’d be fun. And you know, that way you could prove to everyone that you’ve really changed.’

  She didn’t have to say it for Savvy to realize what she meant. It was clear that Hud required some serious grovelling. Penance, no less. Even to be in with a chance of forgiveness.

  But college? Savvy was still reeling. Was that really how Paige, Luc and her father viewed her? As a messed-up kid who might just about be ready for a college education? Was that what they said behind her back? Better late than never.

  ‘Just think about it. You don’t need any pressure in your life right now. But some structure would be good. There are so many fabulous courses out there. If I had my time again, there’s so much I’d like to do . . .’

  ‘I’ll think about it,’ Savvy said.

  ‘There is some good news, though,’ Paige said. ‘An attorney is going to contact you anyway, but I thought I’d tell you to your face myself.’ Paige smiled. ‘Elodie left a will. Your father challenged its authenticity, which is why it’s only just been settled. Elodie’s attorney said she tried contacting you several times last year . . .’

  Savvy pictured the mountain of mail that had piled up in her apartment.

  ‘I wasn’t exactly corresponding back then.’

  ‘Elodie named you as her next of kin. The apartment, her car, her money and shares – everything she owned separate to your father – are all yours. And she was quite a smart cookie. She’d made some great investments of her own in the last few years. If only half the banks and businesses had had the foresight she did.’

  It was as if Elodie had reached out from beyond the grave and come to Savvy’s rescue in her hour of need.

  ‘I’d like you to come back to Vegas with me, Savvy,’ Paige said. ‘I’ve got keys to the apartment.’

  Savvy felt momentarily giddy. She remembered suddenly how she’d lied to Paige about how Elodie had accidentally tripped down the stairs. How she’d come out of the bathroom to find Elodie on the floor. How she’d had to repeat the same story to Hud. And the look in his eyes as she’d told him . . .

  ‘No. Not after what happened.’

  ‘I understand. But remember that she loved that place. It was her pride and joy.’

  ‘I can’t go back there. Ever,’ Savvy said.

  ‘Then maybe we can find you somewhere else in Vegas,’ Paige said. ‘I’ve got a flight back booked for us both.’

  ‘No.’

  Paige seemed startled by the forcefulness of Savvy’s reply.

  ‘I mean . . . not yet,’ Savvy clarified. ‘I want to go back to my own apartment first. It’s part of the rehab programme. I need to clean up what I messed up. I need to take control, not run away.’

  ‘Yes, I see,’ Paige said. ‘But I just thought it would be a good idea if you were closer to me, so I can . . .’

  Keep an eye on you. She didn’t need to say it, but they both knew that was what she meant.

  ‘No,’ Savvy told her. ‘This is something I need to do by myself.’

  And when I’m ready for Vegas, I’ll arrive on my own terms, she was already thinking. Feeling good and looking good. And with a plan in mind. A future. Goals. Something more ambitious than college. Something that would make all of them – Paige, Hud and Luc – sit up and pay attention.

  ‘Suit yourself,’ Paige said, with a disappointed smile. ‘But it’s a shame. I was looking forward to hanging out.’

  She reached into her Anya Hindmarch bag and pushed a wedge of fifty-dollar notes across the bar’s polished surface.

  ‘Living expenses,’ she said. ‘You can pay me back when you’ve settled things with your attorney.’

  ‘Thanks, Paige,’ Savvy said. She smiled, genuinely grateful for Paige’s friendship and trust. And also for the fact that she no longer felt an automatic urge to peel off the top of these crisp bills and roll it up into a tight cylinder, ready to stick up her nose.

  Paige excused herself to go to the bathroom, leaving Savvy alone at the busy bar. The place was louder now than when she’d arrived, the faces redder, the beautiful people getting stuck into happy hour.

  They all looked like they were having a great time, but Savvy just wanted to leave. She’d resisted temptation. She’d had no drink. No drugs. Her sheet was still clean. Just as she’d promised Red.

  She closed her eyes for a moment, remembering the rainforest, the cry of the birds and the musky smell of the earth. And she remembered Red too, picturing him once more walking away from her. She wondered where he was. What he was doing. Would she ever see him again?

  And then, before she could stop herself, she was thinking of Elodie, about when they’d been little kids, chasing across a burning hot beach in the sunshine, laughing, crashing hand in hand into the surf.

  Oh Elodie. I was never much of a sister or a friend to you once we grew up, was I?

  She remembered how she’d tried to exclude Elodie from her friendship with Paige. ‘Three’s a crowd,’ she always used to tell her sister, making up excuses for seeing Paige alone. How they’d partied here in the Montrose that summer whilst Elodie had gone to Europe with Hud, tagging along on business trips and visiting museums and galleries alone. Had Elodie been lonely? Jealous? she wondered now.

  Several times these past few weeks she’d felt like her sister was somehow still here. Maybe it was a twin thing. Maybe it was just the way Savvy’s grief process was playing out, but the more sober she’d become, the more in tune with herself, the more the feeling had grown. Was she imagining it? Was she pretending she had some kind of sixth sense? Or was she just holding on to something Red had once said about letting Elodie live on inside her? Because she felt more protective now of Elodie than she ever had before. And the feeling gave her an odd kind of strength. Like goodness had been poured into her, where before there’d only been bad.

  When Paige came back, they both gathered up their belongings ready to go.

  ‘Are you sure you won’t come with me, Sav?’ Paige asked.

  Savvy shook her head. ‘Quite sure. But Paige, in the meantime, there’s something I want you to do for me.’

  ‘
Sure.’

  ‘Tell Hud . . .’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Tell Hud that I love him.’

  Paige smiled and raised her eyebrows. ‘Really? You’re sure?’

  ‘Yes, I’m sure. He’s always said that blood is thicker than water. We’re family, Paige. He can’t ignore me for ever. Tell him I’ll be home soon. As soon as I can.’

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Lois woke to the buzz of powerboats. A wave of nausea swept over her as she opened her eyes. Squinting into the gloom, she realized the room was moving. The boat. Of course. She was on Aidan’s boat.

  She couldn’t tell whether it was Aidan’s boat rocking on the water or her hangover that was making her feel worse. She put the sheet up over her face and groaned.

  Oh my God! She’d had a one-night stand.

  But the wave of remorse or shame she’d been expecting didn’t come. Instead, she found herself smiling like the twenty-year-old she suddenly felt.

  Lois bit her lip as flashes of last night came back to her. The sex had been great. Better than great. Fantastic.

  Somehow, with Aidan, she hadn’t felt shy, but able to do anything. The dawn had broken by the time they’d finished and had drifted off, utterly spent, in one another’s arms.

  But that was last night. And this was this morning. And Lois was old enough and wise enough to know that sex always complicated things. Especially sex as great as that. She couldn’t help wondering what the hell Aidan must think of her now. The opinions men formed after sex were always so unpredictable. Would he have categorized her already? Slut . . . conquest . . . partner . . . lover . . . or still just friends?

  Friends with Aidan was one thing, but there was no way she could get involved in a relationship. Not now. She had her career to think about. Cara. She didn’t have time to get emotionally involved with anyone.

  Plus, he was far from perfect, she reminded herself. The guy was a ferocious drinker and a gambler. Could she really contemplate a relationship with someone who had such a different attitude towards money from her? Not to mention the risks he took with his own life. After all, those trips he’d described – could she really handle the stress of being involved with someone who regularly went to the world’s worst war zones?

  But her thoughts were running away with themselves. Aidan hadn’t at any point suggested that this might be leading anywhere.

  But where the hell was he anyway?

  She twisted and looked out on to the water. But even with the tinted glass, the glare of the sun on the horizon was too much for her. She groaned and got out of bed.

  In the bathroom, she found a cotton kaftan – purple and yellow, not her colours. She put it on, thinking how typical it was of Aidan not to have a mirror in here. She picked up a bottle of aftershave and pressed the nozzle to her nose. God, he smelt good, she thought to herself, her face breaking into a smile.

  She opened the hatch door heading out on to the deck and blinked in the bright morning light. She hadn’t been able to see too clearly in the dark last night and, judging from the way her head felt, had probably been more drunk than she’d realized, but she saw that Aidan’s barge was at the end of a row of equally beautiful and idiosyncratic houseboats.

  But what was truly astonishing was that the whole of the city was right there, just across the water, towering over them. It looked impossibly close, like a child’s drawing where the perspective was all wrong.

  The choppy harbour in between was buzzing with activity. She could hear the distant honk of tuk-tuk horns, the low murmur of road traffic and the chugging of diesel engines nearby. The smell of brine and fuel mingled in the air with the sweet perfume of the potted jasmine plants on Aidan’s deck.

  ‘Mr Aidan, Mr Aidan . . .’ she heard. She saw now that Aidan was crouched near a hatch in the bow of the boat. A couple in a dilapidated water taxi with a torn yellow canvas awning were passing him a wooden crate of exotic fruit, which he lifted aboard. He also took in two suit carriers and what looked like a hat box, before paying the man, who waved and zoomed away.

  ‘So you’re awake,’ he called, as he turned and saw Lois.

  Was he as embarrassed as she was? She couldn’t tell. He was wearing three-quarter-length cotton trousers and an undone short-sleeved shirt. He looked calm and collected and, compared to her, surprisingly fresh. She sensed a sudden stirring within her as she looked at his body, remembering how great it had felt pressed hard against hers last night.

  She put her hand to her hair. She had crazy bed hair and she knew it. She could feel herself blushing.

  ‘Yes you do,’ he said with a grin, walking along the gunwale towards her now, the wooden crate in his hands.

  ‘Do what?’

  ‘Look like you’ve been dragged through a hedge backwards.’

  She laughed. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘But don’t worry.’ He patted the roof of the cabin. ‘Despite appearances, this old tub’s got an excellent power shower, complete with a fine array of lotions, potions and perfumes from some of the world’s finest hotels.’

  Lois laughed. But his filibuster wasn’t over yet.

  ‘All of which is a very long-winded way of saying that you look just as beautiful this morning as you did last night.’

  Beautiful? She grinned back at him. It was comforting to know that he was charming after as well as before. Not that it mattered. Because she wasn’t planning on getting involved with him, she reminded herself.

  ‘I’ve got breakfast,’ Aidan said, putting down the box full of ripe pineapples, mangoes and papayas.

  ‘What are those?’ she asked, nodding behind him to the suit carriers.

  ‘Oh, those?’ he said. He seemed caught out and bashful. ‘They’re clothes. Stuff for the races.’

  Lois nodded. But then she saw that one of the suit carriers was slightly open. She spotted a flash of orange. Which could mean only one thing . . .

  Aidan had someone else on the scene. He wasn’t as single as he’d made out . . .

  For all she knew, he could be married for a second time. Or have a serious girlfriend. Now it all made sense. The open condom box. This kaftan – oh, gross. Did this belong to . . . ?

  ‘I should leave,’ she said.

  ‘What?’ Aidan looked crestfallen. ‘No, no. Don’t. Stay,’ he said, hurrying over to her, ‘I’ve got the whole day planned. Tickets for the Hong Kong races. I know gambling’s not your thing but it’s more of a cultural event out here. And look,’ he went on, racing off to collect the suit carrier and holding it out to her. ‘I even got a friend at the Four Seasons to get you some clothes delivered in time. I had to guess your size, but . . .’

  He was so flustered, so schoolboyish, that Lois felt her suspicions melting away.

  ‘I don’t usually do this,’ he said. ‘I mean, I would have taken you out before . . . you know . . . but things got a bit out of hand last night. I only meant to bring you back here for a drink, I swear. But will you? Will you come with me today?’

  Lois felt a laugh of relief escape her. And shock too. Aidan was nervous about asking her to go with him. How ironic that they’d slept together but he was fumbling around now.

  And of course the answer was yes.

  ‘OK,’ she said, her hand on her hip. ‘On one condition.’

  He flushed. ‘Anything . . . what?’

  ‘Tell me how you tracked me down last night.’

  He hadn’t stopped smiling, but there was an added alertness to his eyes. ‘You mean you don’t believe it was just fate?’

  Lois rolled her eyes. ‘Tell me.’

  ‘OK,’ he admitted. ‘I’m here in Hong Kong to meet Jai Shijai’s people. For business.’

  Jai Shijai. That name again. Wherever she seemed to go these days, it just kept on popping up.

  She was tempted to ask Aidan exactly what that business was, but she doubted that he’d tell her. And anyway, she didn’t have the chance.

  ‘And, well, Angela Ho let slip your boss Roberto w
as coming to town to meet you. So . . . I called in a favour and got an ex-military contact to track your cell with GPS . . .’

  ‘You must have some powerful friends,’ Lois said, impressed and outraged in equal measures.

  ‘Comes with the turf, I guess,’ he said, a twinkle in his eye. ‘Now we’re going to have to hurry. I don’t want to miss the first race. I promise you, it’ll be worth it.’

  ‘But I’m just going for the experience,’ she said. ‘Because you know I’m only here for two days. And then I’ll be gone.’

  She felt she had to say it. To lay down her cards. To make sure there was no confusion later.’

  ‘Sure. Just for the experience,’ he assured her. ‘I mean, what else is there, right?’

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Happy Valley Racecourse was a green oasis in the centre of Hong Kong Island. It was surrounded on all sides by tower blocks, as if the very buildings themselves were leaning in, ready to place a bet, watching in anticipation beneath the bright blue sky.

  As soon as Lois stepped out of the cab with Aidan, she was glad she’d come, just to experience the sheer craziness of the atmosphere. The street outside the stadium was a logjam of screaming cabbies, blaring their horns. It seemed that everyone in Hong Kong was here – locals from all walks of life, crowding around the makeshift noodle stands and beer stalls and swarming around the ticket touts. Tic-tac men teetered on packing crates, shouting out in a rapid, high-pitched code to one another, adjusting odds and offsetting their risks.

  ‘Come on,’ Aidan shouted, gripping Lois’s hand. ‘This way.’ Hauling her through the crowd – it was like wading through mud – he finally got them past the turnstiles and into the stadium. Everyone was jostling against each other, gripping their betting slips as they vied for a position with a good view of the track. It made Fight Night in Vegas seem sedate by comparison.

  They reached an elevator and waited their turn in the chattering masses, until they managed to squeeze a ride up to the seventh floor. Even in the elevator, the talking didn’t stop, nor the sense of good-natured anticipation.

  As soon as they came out of the elevator, Lois had her first glance at the racetrack spread out below. With its lush green infield stretching into the distance beyond the crowd, it was an impossible, awe-inspiring luxury in a city where real-estate values were some of the highest in the world and overpopulation and pollution were threatening to choke it to death.

 

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