Emma’s thoughts were interrupted by a loud splash followed by a screech. ‘He pushed me in! Tell him off, Mum. And he’s taken my phone!’
The woman rolled her eyes. ‘My daughter is addicted to the wretched thing – not to mention her laptop. I’ve tried putting her on a digital detox but she just went mental.’ She gave a little confiding look. ‘I know this is going to sound a bit strange, but I didn’t really want anyone to know we were here. My husband is quite famous. You might recognise him …’
She stopped, hand clasped to mouth as though she’d said too much. ‘What I’m trying to say is that we want some privacy. So do you mind not telling anyone from home that we’re here – not until we get back, that is?’
How odd, thought Emma. It wasn’t even as if she knew their names, so how could she tell anyone? Quite famous, she’d said. So that was why his face had looked familiar. Why oh why couldn’t she recall who he was? That was motherhood for you. It shrivelled up your brain.
Meanwhile, her new friend was looking so worried, twisting her shiny gold wedding ring round and round, that she didn’t feel it was her business to ask any more questions. ‘Sure. That’s fine.’ She tried to make a joke out of it. ‘Mum’s the word.’
There was a little sigh of relief. ‘Thanks. I really appreciate it. We’ve had enough problems already. It’s meant to be our honeymoon, you see, but my first husband couldn’t have the children. To make it worse, there’s been a mix-up over the rooms.’
Emma didn’t want to say she’d gathered that from the fuss when they’d arrived. It might have sounded as though she was eavesdropping. Mind you, she hadn’t realised they were on honeymoon too. Was that why they wanted privacy? A secret wedding?
‘I’ve left my two kids behind,’ she said, feeling a lump rise in her throat as she spoke. ‘It’s the very first time I’ve been away from them.’
There was a rather sweet smile of sympathy. ‘I remember that stage so well. It’s like missing a limb, isn’t it?’
Emma’s head bobbed up and down. ‘Exactly! My mum’s looking after them but …’
‘But you never feel that anyone else can look after them quite like you!’
Got it in one. So she wasn’t being fussy, like Mum and Tom said. That made her feel a whole lot better.
‘You know,’ the woman was now whispering, ‘I’m secretly quite glad the children are here with me now, because I don’t really trust my ex to keep an eye on them. Still, on the plus side, at least you’ll be able to relax a bit without yours, won’t you?’
‘My husband’s feeling sick,’ Emma heard herself saying. ‘So we’re not exactly having the most amazing time at the moment.’
Oh dear. She hadn’t meant to moan but, despite being so glamorous, this other mother was surprisingly easy to talk to. Really sympathetic, even though she did sound posh. ‘Poor him!’ She touched Emma’s arm lightly. ‘I’ve brought some stuff with me that might help.’
Not another lot! ‘That’s very kind but I’m not sure that Tom will—’ she began to say. However, the woman was nodding vigorously. ‘Honestly. It’s no trouble. I’ll just go and get it. Mind keeping an eye on my two while I’m gone?’ She smiled. ‘Otherwise they’ll only try to kill each other again.’
‘Fuck off, Alice!’
‘Shitface!’
Emma gasped but the woman just rolled her eyes again. ‘I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that. Sometimes it’s easier.’ She held out her hand. ‘My name’s Melissa, by the way.’
What gorgeous nails! Her own wedding polish had already begun to chip from cleaning out the bathroom after Tom had been ill again. ‘I’m Emma.’
‘Great to meet you, Emma!’ Her new friend gave a little gasp, putting her hand to her mouth. It was something she seemed to do a lot. ‘I’ve just thought of something. Is that how you heard about this place – through that advert at school?’
Emma nodded. ‘Sort of. At least, a friend did. She got it for us as a wedding present, you see.’
‘How sweet!’ Melissa’s voice dropped. ‘Tell me, is it what you thought it would be? I mean, we wanted somewhere private but it is a bit basic, isn’t it? The pool’s tiny. There’s not enough hot water and the food is pretty average. I know they’re waiting for the new cook, but you’d think they’d have it sorted for the season, wouldn’t you?’
What on earth did she mean? It was all lovely, as far as Emma could see – although it would be a lot better if Tom wasn’t sick. ‘I like it,’ she shrugged. ‘I can’t wait to do the yoga tomorrow morning.’
Then she stopped. How selfish. That would mean leaving Tom, which wouldn’t be fair, would it? On the other hand, maybe he’d be a bit better by then. That reminded her. ‘I’d better go.’
Melissa grabbed her hand. ‘Sorry. I got carried away; I can be a bit scatty at times.’ She blushed. ‘I still can’t believe all this is real, can you? Getting married and all that. Now just wait there and I’ll be back in a second with my magic medicine. Trust me. This stuff always works.’
For someone she’d only just met, Melissa was very forthcoming, thought Emma. Still, it was nice to make friends, especially as there was still no sign of life from the holiday cottage next to theirs. Was anyone actually staying there? It really was very quiet down by the cottage.
Then again, wasn’t that what you wanted on your honeymoon?
‘You’ve got lice, you’ve got lice!’
‘No, I haven’t!’
‘Yes, you have! Just take “A” off your name and you get l-i-c-e …’
‘Piss off, Freddie!’
Those two needed a good telling-off. She would never, resolved Emma firmly, allow Gawain and Willow to get away with language like that when they were older.
Sitting down on the lounger to wait for her new friend to return, Emma closed her eyes in the gorgeous sunshine and automatically twiddled her new ring. Except that it wasn’t there …
Oh my God! Her eyes snapped open. No. She wasn’t imagining it! Sweating with fear, she leaped to her feet and began frantically searching the ground. ‘My ring!’ she called out desperately. ‘Someone help me! I’ve lost my wedding ring!’
TRUE HONEYMOON STORY
‘My then-husband abandoned me on a Scottish mountain during our honeymoon. I should have seen the warning signs then.’
Liz, now happily remarried
Chapter Eleven
WINSTON
Winston heard the commotion from the top of the hill above the villa, where he’d been working out. He’d found the spot soon after they’d arrived. It was perfect for some privacy – Winston didn’t like exercising in front of anyone else unless he was being filmed – and at the same time, there was quite a nice view of the bay.
The villa might be basic but there was something about this place that was very appealing.
‘My ring! My wedding ring!’
It was, he could see, marching down the slope, the plump blonde bride. She was running round the pool area in a pair of tight shorts that didn’t do her any favours. Oh God. Alice and Freddie were there too, shooting him hostile looks. Winston was tempted to turn round and tear back up the hill again.
‘I’ve lost my wedding ring!’ The woman’s eyes were shiny with tears and her face was all red and blotchy. Winston’s heart went out to her; the poor woman really was in a state. ‘Look!’ She thrust out her hand at him as if he needed proof. ‘I had it this morning when I woke up. I’m sure I did.’
Her breath was coming out in short puffs, as though she was having a panic attack. Automatically, his training kicked into action. ‘Inhale,’ he instructed firmly. ‘Lean on me – that’s right – and take long, deep breaths.’
It was working, even though the kids were giving him funny looks. The woman’s fingers were beginning to relax now; a few seconds ago, her nails had cut into his back. ‘Better?’ he asked.
She nodded.
He led her to a bench by the side of the pool. ‘Sit down. That’s right. You’ve
lost your ring, you say?’
Her eyes filled with tears again. Quickly, before she could have another panic attack, he continued, using the low, steady voice they’d been taught, right at the beginning of their training. It was a voice to fool someone – usually a comrade in trouble – that everything would be all right, even if there wasn’t a cat in hell’s chance of making it.
A voice which he’d used on Nick.
‘When exactly do you last remember seeing it on your finger?’
‘This morning, in the cottage.’ Her voice came out in gasps, as though she was making a huge effort. Probably embarrassed. He knew about that, too. ‘I remember waking up and giving it a little twist.’ She gave him a sad smile. ‘I can’t help doing that – couldn’t, I mean. It feels – felt – so new.’
He knew exactly what she meant. His own ring felt like an impostor. In the registry office, it had taken a while for Melissa to slide it onto his finger; something that had made her giggle with nerves. The recollection gave him a funny pang. Had that really only been two days ago? He hadn’t even considered the possibility of their honeymoon being hijacked then by two spoilt brats.
‘Right.’ He forced himself to concentrate on the drama in front of him. ‘So you had it when you woke up. Then what did you do?’
‘Had a shower.’ She blushed. ‘That didn’t take long because the water was cold …’
Tell me about it, Winston almost said. Not that the inadequate plumbing system bothered him but he so wanted everything to be right for Melissa. And frankly, tepid showers in a cubicle that wasn’t even big enough for one (not someone his size, anyway) weren’t what he’d had in mind.
‘Then I had to clean up after Tom.’ The woman was going red again. ‘He keeps being sick, you see. At first we thought it was food poisoning – the chicken vol-au-vents were off at our wedding reception – but now he reckons it was the plane or the sun or both.’
She lowered her voice. ‘In fact, he’s asleep right now. I crept out of the cottage so I didn’t wake him. I’m hoping a rest will do him good.’
The woman was talking as though her husband was a baby. ‘When you cleaned up after your husband,’ Winston said thoughtfully, ‘did you wear rubber gloves?’
There was a nod. ‘I did, actually. There were some in the kitchen in our cottage. It’s got everything, hasn’t it?’
Winston snorted. ‘I wouldn’t know. We’re in the owner’s room.’ He stood up from the bench. ‘This is just a thought, but why don’t you go down to the cottage and take a look inside your gloves?’
‘Fuck off, Freddie!’
‘You fuck off!’
Winston shot round. ‘Enough of that. You two can come with us. That’s right. Four heads can be better than one. Where’s Mum, by the way?’
‘Gone to get some medicine for my Tom.’ The woman was twisting her hands. ‘I’m afraid we’re causing a lot of trouble for you.’
‘Not at all.’ It’s good to have a project, he almost said. Besides, it would give him an excuse to check out that cottage next door; the one where he could have sworn he’d seen a light flashing the other night. ‘Now why don’t you take us to your place? We need to go back exactly the way you walked up here. Keep your eyes peeled on the ground, everyone.’
Even if the plump blonde hadn’t been leading the way, Winston would have known where to go from the sound of the snoring. Bloody hell. That man wouldn’t have lasted two minutes on the front line. Those adenoids would have alerted the enemy within seconds.
‘He’s still out for the count.’ The woman sounded exasperated. Not surprising. A noise like that would drive him nuts.
‘Cool place,’ exclaimed Alice behind him. ‘You’ve even got a television!’
‘Leave it alone,’ warned Winston.
‘I wasn’t going to touch it, anyway.’ The girl’s voice was sulky. ‘You don’t have any right to talk to me like that. You’re not my father.’
The bride shot him a sympathetic look.
‘I know I’m not,’ said Winston in a low voice. ‘But since he has managed to get out of looking after you, I’m doing so instead.’
The pained look that shot across Alice’s face, coupled with the disapproval in the woman’s eyes, made him wonder if he’d been a touch too hard then.
‘I washed out Tom’s sick bowl in the sink.’ The plump bride’s voice reminded him of why they were here. ‘Look. There are my gloves.’ She held up the left one and shook it. Nothing.
‘Put your hand in,’ he suggested.
She did so, hopefully. Then her face fell. ‘It’s not there!’ Her cheeks reddened again and tears rolled down. ‘I’ve lost it.’
Winston looked around for something long and thin. A barbecue stick with a kink at the end. That might do. ‘Let’s take a look at the bathroom.’
The woman was blustering behind him. ‘I’m afraid it might smell a bit.’
Not as much as rotting corpses in Afghanistan, he almost said.
‘Ugh.’ The girl was giggling. ‘Did you make a smell, Freddie?’
‘Piss off.’
‘Stop it, both of you.’ Winston handed the stick to the boy. ‘Hand this to me when I say.’
‘Please,’ said the girl sharply.
Winston stood up. ‘OK. You do it. Go on. Put your hand down the loo bowl and see what you can find.’
The girl glared at him. ‘Fine.’
He had to give her credit. She wasn’t squeamish.
‘Freddie, push the stick down from the top. That’s right.’
‘I’ve got something!’ The girl’s voice had a squeal to it. ‘Shit. It’s gone again.’
Deftly, Winston unscrewed the waste pipe. A bit stiff but it was coming …
‘Will you be able to put it back?’ asked Freddie worriedly. Clearly his father hadn’t taught him any DIY.
‘Sure.’ Kneeling, Winston tried to put his hand in. ‘You do it,’ he instructed Alice. ‘Your fist is smaller.’
Amazingly, she didn’t need asking twice. The girl had more guts than he’d thought. ‘I’ve got it,’ she shouted. ‘I’ve got it!’
Triumphantly, she withdrew a small, dirty-looking band of gold. Emma gasped. ‘Thank God!’
She flung her arms around Winston and then both the kids. ‘How can I say thank you?’
Winston shrugged. ‘We’re just glad we can help. Aren’t we, you lot?’
The girl’s face had gone all stony again. ‘We? I’m the one that found it.’ She turned round and started washing her hands.
‘Alice, that’s not fair,’ began Freddie.
‘Hey,’ interrupted Winston. ‘It doesn’t matter. What’s important is that this lady’s got her ring back.’
‘Please call me Emma.’
She waited as if expecting him to give his name in return but he couldn’t. It was too risky. There was a low mutter from the girl. It sounded suspiciously like, ‘Pity Mum can’t lose her ring too.’
Winston felt a ridiculous pang of disappointment. For a minute, when they’d all been working together, it had felt rather good. How stupid he’d been to think that he’d managed to mend fences. Whatever he did with these two was never going to be enough to win their approval. He’d suspected as much before the honeymoon, but now it was written, clear as day, on Alice’s face and, to a lesser degree, Freddie’s.
Meanwhile, Emma had washed the ring and was now dancing around like an overweight fairy. ‘I’ll never, ever lose it again. Thank you, thank you.’
If she wasn’t careful, she was going to wake up Mr Adenoid there.
‘We’d better go back to Mum,’ said Alice sulkily. ‘She’ll be wondering where we are.’
Winston walked to the door, looking out through the patch of trees to the blue-and-white wooden cottage next door. ‘Met your neighbours yet?’ he asked casually.
Emma shook her head. ‘Someone said they were French. Maybe they keep different hours.’
She was quite sweet really, Winston decided. A little
irritating but her heart was definitely in the right place. Pity about her husband not being well. Never flown before, she’d said. Incredible. Some people led such insular lives. Then again, was that such a bad thing? Sometimes he wondered if he’d have been better off having fewer expectations in life.
‘By the way,’ she added brightly. ‘I was talking to your wife earlier and discovered why your face looks so familiar!’
He stiffened. Surely Melissa hadn’t told her the truth? He’d warned her not to get too close to the English woman in case she twigged about his identity. At times his new wife was like a child: trusting those who clearly weren’t to be relied on.
‘It’s through the school, isn’t it?’ She was still twisting her ring as though to reassure herself that it was back in place. ‘I must have seen you pick up the children.’
There was a snort from Alice’s direction and a dismissive glance that suggested he knew nothing. ‘He only collected us once and even then he went to the wrong entrance. ’Sides, we either walk home or else Mum or our real dad picks us up.’
That was telling her! And him. The poor woman realised she’d put her foot in it now, not that it was her fault. Meanwhile, Winston told himself as he walked back to the pool – the kids racing ahead to meet Melissa, who was waving at them – he had to do something to get his stepchildren off his back.
They were driving him bloody crazy.
Winston waited until dinner to carry out his plan. Unwittingly, Melissa helped by suggesting that they had dinner at the villa instead of going out.
‘It would be nice to show some support, don’t you think?’ she’d said, taking his arm. She only showed affection, he noticed, when the children weren’t looking. Yesterday, when he’d been kissing her on the beach, she had suddenly sprung away from him when Freddie had come along. But they were married now, he’d wanted to say. Surely they were entitled to show each other some affection!
‘That nice young man, Jack, asked if we wanted a table and I said yes.’ She squeezed his arm lightly. ‘I hope that’s all right.’
After the Honeymoon Page 11