‘Can Immy make me breakfast every day, Mummy? She does it really good. Better than you,’ he added gleefully.
‘I’m sure she does. Why didn’t you come in to wake me up like you usually do?’ she asked.
‘We did, Mummy, but you didn’t wake up. You must have been very tired. Here’s a drink for you.’ Immy smiled and handed Helena a plastic cup full of some rank-smelling green gunk. ‘I made it. Taste it. It’s got lots of good things in it.’
‘I . . . will, in a minute.’ Helena almost gagged on the smell, feeling the effects of last night, which had prompted an alcoholic and emotional hangover. ‘Thank you, Immy,’ she managed as she put the cup down.
‘Where Daddy?’ asked Fred from his hidey-hole.
‘He went with Uncle Sacha to do some . . . business. He’ll be back later.’ Helena decided to forget the coffee, and went to the fridge to pour herself a pint of water instead. She took a large gulp as the kitchen door opened and Angelina came in.
‘Good morning, leetle ones.’ She peered under the table at Fred and kissed Immy. ‘You have good time last night, Helena?’
‘Yes, thank you.’
‘My friends tell me eet was good party. And you dance beautiful with Mr Alexis.’ Angelina’s dark eyes sparkled.
‘Did you dance, Mummy?’ Immy asked, wide-eyed.
‘Yes, I did, Immy. Everyone did. Angelina, I was wondering whether you could take them both down to the pool and watch them whilst they have a swim? Would you like that, you two?’
Fred was out from under the table like a shot. ‘Yes, please!’
‘I will take them. But first’ – Angelina put her hands on her hips and surveyed Immy and Fred – ‘who make this mess in my tidy kitchen?’
‘We did! We did!’ Fred started jumping around excitedly, as Immy looked on guiltily.
‘Then first we tidy together, then we swim? Hokay?’
‘Hokay,’ they agreed in unison.
Gratefully, Helena took the opportunity to exit the kitchen and take a shower.
‘Hello, Auntie Helena. I was just looking for you.’ Viola was standing at the top of the stairs as Helena made her way upwards.
‘How are you, darling?’ she asked.
She looked down at Helena and shrugged miserably. ‘Was it all a bad dream?’
‘Oh Viola, I’m so sorry, but we both know it wasn’t. Do you want to come with me into my bedroom? We could sit and have a talk together.’
‘Okay.’ Viola followed Helena into the bedroom, and onto the little balcony. ‘Mummy’s door is still locked. I just tried it.’
‘Perhaps she’s still sleeping, but I’m sure we can wake her up if you want to see her.’
‘No, she’ll just say horrid things about Daddy. I’m sure it’s not all his fault, but she’ll blame him anyway.’
‘Darling Viola.’ Helena’s heart went out to her. ‘You have to understand that she’s as upset and as shocked as you are.’
‘Will they get divorced, do you think? Alex said they might.’
‘I really don’t know what will happen. They need to talk, that’s for sure.’
‘But they never do talk! Daddy tries, but then Mummy just shouts at him. She never listens to him, ever. What will happen to me, Auntie Helena?’
‘Darling, you’ll still have your mum and dad, and Rupes, but maybe you’ll need to move somewhere else, go to a different school, that’s all.’
‘I don’t care about that. I hate my school anyway. But if Daddy and Mummy divorce, I’m living with Daddy, so there!’ Viola buried her face in her hands. ‘I still love him, even if Mummy doesn’t.’
‘I know, darling, and he loves you.’
‘If I can’t live with Daddy, can I live with you instead? You’re so kind, and so is Alex. And I’d help with Immy and Fred, I promise,’ Viola offered desperately.
‘We’d love you to live with us, but I think your mum might not want you to.’
‘She won’t care. She’ll just want her precious Rupes. I think they should get married, they love each other so much.’ Viola let out a small, strangled chuckle.
‘Oh Viola, don’t say things like that. Mummy adores you.’
‘No she doesn’t, Auntie Helena. I don’t know why she adopted me in the first place.’
‘Because she loved you. And still loves you.’ Helena struggled to find the right words of comfort.
‘Besides’ – Viola’s face darkened – ‘she’s a liar.’
‘Why do you say that?’
‘Mummy has money that she’s never told Daddy about.’
‘How do you know?’
‘I saw her bank statement in her handbag once, just after Granny died. It had noughts on the end of the number.’
‘Did it?’ Helena remembered Jules mentioning the amount her mother had left her the other night. ‘Well, surely that’s good news? Maybe things aren’t so bad, after all?’
‘She might not share it with Daddy, though. Which is wrong because he shares all his money with us. Do you think I should tell him?’
‘Not for now, no.’
‘Okay.’ Viola rubbed her nose distractedly. ‘Do you think he will come and see us today?’
‘I really don’t know. I think that’s up to your mum and dad to decide.’
‘But what about me?’
‘Oh, darling.’ Helena reached for Viola, and pulled her gently onto her lap. ‘I’m so sorry for what’s happened, but you’re safe here with us for now, and I’m sure your mum and dad will sort things out. They’ve both had a big shock too.’
‘I want to see Daddy, Auntie Helena. He needs a hug.’
‘I know he does, and I’m sure you’ll be able to give him one soon. Now, how about finding your bathing costume and coming downstairs with me and Immy and Fred for a swim?’
‘Okay,’ Viola said with a defeated shrug. Pulling out of Helena’s embrace, she padded miserably out of the bedroom.
By eleven, Helena was feeling much better. A swim, coupled with the exuberance of her children, had revived her, although she was still distracted by what was happening up at the winery between William, Alexis and Sacha.
Alex emerged to join them, as did Chloë, and the two of them organised games to keep the little ones amused. Helena was relieved to see Viola shouting and screaming with the rest as Alex chased her up and down the pool.
‘Helena.’ Angelina sidled up to her, smiling. ‘I clean house this morning, but when I finish may I take little ones to the village? My parents wish to meet them. We will have tea together. And Alexis . . . I mean, Alex, and Chloë and Viola with the lovely hair too, if they wish.’
‘I’m sure they’d love to come with you, Angelina, but please don’t go to any trouble.’
‘Eet is no trouble! We love the childrens here, you know that. Maybe one day, I have some too, but for now, I adopt yours instead.’
‘That’s absolutely fine by me,’ Helena said with a grateful smile.
As she walked back up to the house to change out of her wet bikini, she found Rupes sitting alone on the terrace.
‘Hello, Rupes,’ she said tentatively.
‘Hi.’
‘How are you?’
He shrugged listlessly.
‘Seen your mother yet this morning?’
He nodded in reply.
‘How is she?’
‘How do you think she is?’
Helena sat down beside him. ‘Not so great, I’m sure.’
‘She’s too ashamed to come out of her room. She says she can’t face anyone at the moment.’
‘I can understand that. Would it do any good if I went to talk to her? Tried to make her see that no one’s judging her? That none of this is her fault? We all just want to help. If we can.’
‘Dunno if it’d do any good or not,’ Rupes shrugged. ‘It’s her pride, you see.’
‘Of course.’ Helena laid a hand on his arm. ‘It’ll be all right, you know. These things always are.’
‘No, it
won’t be all right.’ Rupes shook her hand away. ‘Dad’s ruined all of our lives. It’s as simple as that.’ He stood up and walked across the terrace and around the house, heading for the sanctuary of the vines. Helena knew it was because he didn’t want her to see him cry. She walked into the kitchen and saw her mobile was blinking.
It was a text from William.
‘Hi. Sacha not good. Call u later.’
Helena studied the text, realising what was missing. There was no kiss.
After lunch, Angelina loaded the children into her car to drive them up to the village. Rupes was still off on his own, and Sadie hadn’t yet returned to Pandora at all. Taking a deep breath, Helena went upstairs and knocked softly on Jules’ bedroom door.
‘It’s Helena. Can I come in?’
There was no response.
‘Jules, I can quite understand you might not want to see anyone, but can I at least get you something to drink? Tea? Coffee? Triple vodka?’
Helena was just about to walk away when a voice said, ‘Oh, what the hell! Why not? If you promise to make the vodka a quadruple. Door’s open.’
Helena turned the handle and walked in. Jules was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed, still wearing the gold top from the previous night. There were clothes flung everywhere, and the enormous suitcase lay half packed on the floor.
‘Are you leaving?’ Helena asked.
Jules shrugged. ‘I thought I would, so I started packing, then I remembered . . .’ she choked back a sob, ‘I don’t have anywhere to go.’
‘Oh Jules.’ Helena went to her and put an arm round her. ‘I’m so, so sorry. For everything,’ she added.
‘How could he have let it get so bad without telling me?’ she cried. ‘I’m not an ogre, am I, Helena? I mean, unapproachable? I’ve tried so hard to get him to talk to me about work, but he just clams up and pours himself another drink.’
‘Of course you’re not, and I’m sure Sacha didn’t mean not to tell you. I suppose that things reach a point when you’ve lied so much that another lie doesn’t seem to matter.’ Helena sighed. ‘He was very stupid not to share it with you, and none of this is your fault. You must remember that.’
‘I’ve tried, but every time I think of him standing there, drunkenly parading our dirty washing in front of all those strangers, I think what they must have thought of me: a woman whose husband couldn’t turn to his wife in his hour of need. I’ve tried to be a good wife, I really have. And my God, it’s been hard sometimes.’ She shot a look at Helena. ‘Sacha is not a William, as you know.’
‘No, I’m quite sure he isn’t. Listen, all the kids are up with Angelina in the village. The house is empty, so why don’t you freshen up, then come downstairs and we’ll have something to eat on the terrace?’
Jules nodded. ‘Okay. Thanks, Helena.’
Ten minutes later, Jules was sitting at the table on the terrace, devouring a chicken sandwich that Helena had hastily prepared, and drinking a large glass of wine.
‘I’m literally speechless, to be honest. I just don’t know what to think or say. I suppose I must take what Sacha said at face value and assume everything’s gone.’
‘You really need to sit down and have a proper talk with him, find out exactly how things stand.’
‘I know how things will stand if I set eyes on that idiot at the moment: he won’t have any teeth left to talk with! No’ – Jules shook her head – ‘I really can’t face him just yet. And if he calls you, please tell him not to come near me until I say so.’
‘If it’s any consolation, I doubt he’s feeling any better than you are.’
‘He’s not getting an ounce of sympathy from me ever again. Things are bad enough, but why the hell he had to publicly humiliate not just me, but the children as well, I really don’t understand. What got into him, Helena?’
‘Desperation, fuelled by booze, I would think.’
‘Oh, I know he’s got a drink problem – has done for years. But I’ve rather given up, as if I even mention it, he calls me an old nag. Like my horses, the poor things,’ said Jules, taking a gulp of her wine. ‘So, what can you do? Until he accepts he’s got a problem, it’s a road to nowhere. A bit like my future looks right now.’
‘I know it must feel that way, but there’s always a solution, Jules.’
‘Forgive me, Helena, I know you’re trying to help, but I’m not in the mood for wholesome Pollyanna-type platitudes. The truth is, he never loved me, and God only knows why he married me in the first place.’
‘Don’t say that, Jules, please! Of course he loves you.’
‘No, he doesn’t and he never has. Fact. I’ve always known it. The trouble is, I let him get away with blue murder for years just so I could hang onto him, grateful for any small nugget of affection he cared to throw my way.’
‘I’m sure—’
‘Don’t even waste your breath,’ Jules snapped. ‘I know it’s made me bitter, but if you only knew what I’ve had to turn a blind eye to, you wouldn’t believe it . . .’ Jules paused, then turned away and stifled a sob. ‘Really, I’ve tried everything, from supporting his ambition as an artist, having children – even adopting the baby girl he always said he wanted when we couldn’t seem to make one of our own – to a comfortable home and a hot meal on the table every night. I even tried a full selection of Agent Provocateur undies, but it hasn’t made any difference. You can’t force something when it just isn’t . . . wasn’t there.’
Helena said nothing, knowing all she could do was listen.
‘I think Sacha was looking for someone to “fix” him,’ Jules continued. ‘I was always grounded, and he was a dreamer, with his head up in the clouds. I brought him down to earth, I suppose, organised him. Responsibility has never been his strong point, as you know so well,’ Jules sighed. ‘But you know what really galls me?’
‘What?’
‘It’s the way everyone feels sorry for him! “Poor old Sacha, having to live with that dreadful woman!” And don’t tell me you and William don’t think it, Helena, because I know you do. You all do!’ Jules thumped the table and Helena just caught the bottle of wine before it toppled over. ‘Even now, I’ll bet the sympathy’s with him, not me. And even Viola, my own daughter, protects and defends him against me. I know there’ll be a certain element who will be thrilled to see me getting my just reward.’
‘Jules, I’m sure that’s not true.’
‘Oh come on, Helena!’ Jules rounded on her. ‘You and William tolerate me so you can see him! I’m not a complete idiot, you know, and I’m sick to death of it! I really am.’
Jules topped up her glass again as Helena looked on. ‘God, I wish I was like you.’
‘Why on earth would you want to be like me?’
‘Because everyone adores you, Helena. You glide round in your golden light, gathering people to you, bathing them in your glow, so that when they’ve been near you, they feel as though a little of the Helena magic has rubbed off on them. But I don’t have empathy or natural charm like you. I’m awkward, not comfortable socially, shy if you must know, so the things I do and say often come out wrong. Whereas I’m sure that even if you have done wrong, you know what to say and do to put it right.’
‘I promise you, I don’t, Jules. I’ve made some terrible mistakes,’ Helena said with feeling.
‘Haven’t we all?’ Jules looked away and took another large gulp of wine. ‘And maybe . . . just maybe,’ she breathed, ‘this is the best thing that could have happened. Perhaps I need a fresh start. God, Helena, I just want someone who loves me. It’s as simple as that. Anyway, I know I’ll have to face Sacha and talk the situation through, but not yet, not until I’ve got my thoughts into some kind of order. There’s only one thing I know for certain; our marriage is over. Finito, dead and buried. And please don’t tell me it isn’t, because I promise you I shall scream.’
‘I won’t, I promise.’
‘And don’t worry, I won’t be here for much longer. My family h
as already wrecked what should have been a relaxing holiday for you all. Just give me a couple of days to think what to do, okay?’
‘Really, Jules, there’s no rush. Of course you can stay as long as you want.’
‘You know what, Helena? You really are a sweetie, despite everything . . .’ Jules sighed. ‘Right, I’m going to go up and try and get some sleep. That wine’s done the trick. I didn’t get a wink last night.’
‘I’ll be here when the kids get back. Don’t worry about them.’
‘Thanks. And no matter what’s happened in the past, you’ve been a good friend to me. I really value that.’ Jules squeezed Helena’s hand so tightly, it was all she could do not to wince.
With a heavy heart, Helena watched as Jules walked across the terrace and into the house.
And wondered which of the two of them was feeling worse.
ALEX’S DIARY
22nd July 2006
Forgive me, but . . .
I just have to say it. I’ve been holding out, and can’t do it any longer. So here goes . . .
This afternoon was fun. An entire family of Cypriot strangers, offering us revolting cake, inedible biscuits and coffee with bits of grit added for extra substance.
They talked to us – and boy did they talk – but there was only one little problem . . .
It was all Greek to me.
Hah! I’ve said it now.
And I won’t say it again.
Halfway through the Mad Hatter’s tea party, Chloë disappeared. She said she was popping along to the shop. I begged her to let me go with her, but she said she needed to buy ‘ladies’ things’, which is a total no-no as far as I’m concerned.
That whole secret area of a girl’s life is another world to me. At my old school, the female members of the class spent hours in corners chatting away about ‘stuff’. As soon as myself or another male approached them, they’d giggle and whisper and tell us to ‘eff off’.
It’s such a shame, really, when the great male and female divide happens at the onset of puberty. Up until the age of eleven, one of my best friends was a girl called Ellie. We used to chase each other round the playground and share lunch together, and secrets. She’d confide in me who she fancied, and I’d confide in her that I fancied no one. Year six at my local school was not exactly bursting with Scarlett Johanssons or Lindsay Lohans.
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