Helena wandered back across the terrace and into the kitchen. In retrospect, she now realised William had been right; that the build-up to this holiday, with all its complexities, had been extremely stressful. Apart from anything else, she had not known before she arrived how she might feel if she saw Alexis again – and if she did, what she would tell him about her disappearance all those years ago after the summer they’d spent together. Now, she had to believe the eye of the storm had passed and if anything, blown away a few cobwebs, leaving the main structure intact.
The rest of the messy jigsaw puzzle, created both by fate and her own clumsy hands . . . well, who knew?
She would live for today. And today was beautiful.
‘Morning, darling.’ William appeared and kissed her on her bare shoulder as she filled the kettle. ‘What’s on the agenda today?’
‘Nothing too stressful. I must ask Angelina to get the guest room ready for Fabio, he’ll be arriving in a couple of days.’
‘Well, I’m sure you’re looking forward to seeing him, but I have to admit, it’s been lovely being just us.’ He put his arms round her waist and kissed her neck.
‘Yes, it has, but you’re right: I feel like an over-excited child. It’s been so long.’ Helena broke away from him to reach for the cereal bowls. ‘Don’t forget that you need to drag Chloë away from Michel for a few hours and take her out to lunch before she leaves. You should have a good father–daughter bonding session while you can.’
‘I’ll do my best, but convincing her to have lunch with her ancient dad, compared to the youthful charms of Michel, will be a toughie.’
‘Oh, and I’ve been meaning to ask you whether you could have a look at that drawer I told you about in Angus’ desk? I don’t want to ruin it by breaking the lock, but I’m desperate to know what’s inside.’
‘Let me take the kids for a morning swim, then I’ll see what I can do.’
Helena checked her watch. ‘It’s almost ten o’clock! I never thought I’d hear myself say this, but could you go and wake up Immy and Fred or we won’t get them into bed before midnight this evening.’
Helena hummed as William left and she pottered round the kitchen. Glancing out of the window, she saw the oddest sight. Cycling down the hill was Rupes, precariously balanced on Viola’s small borrowed bicycle.
He drew to an ungainly halt beside the back door, and walked towards the house.
‘Come on in, it’s open,’ called Helena.
Rupes appeared, his face red and his T-shirt drenched with sweat.
‘Hello Rupes. You look boiled, do you want some water?’
‘Yes please, Helena. Christ, it’s hot! I’ll be glad to get back to Blighty. The air conditioning in the villa’s on the blink and I can’t sleep.’
‘The newspaper said yesterday it’s the hottest summer here for almost a hundred years.’ Helena went to the fridge, poured a large glass of water and handed it to him. ‘How’s your mum?’
‘She’s okay.’ Rupert gulped back the water in three swallows. ‘Better than she was, anyway. Mind you, she couldn’t have been much worse, could she?’
‘No. Well, it’s nice to see you anyway.’
‘Yeah. I’ve come with a message. Two things: Mum wants to ask you all over for dinner tonight, if you aren’t busy.’
‘Oh, that’s nice of her. I was just about to call and ask her the same. I’ll have to check with Angelina about babysitting, as it will be too late for Immy and Fred, but the rest of us would love to.’
‘And also . . . er . . . is Alex around?’
‘Somewhere, I should think. Shall I call him for you?’
‘Thanks.’
Helena walked into the hall. ‘Alex? Someone here to see you, darling.’
‘Coming,’ groaned a sleepy voice.
‘He’ll be along in a second. I’m afraid we’ve all started lying in quite late,’ Helena apologised. ‘How’s Viola? She didn’t come to see us yesterday.’
‘She’s okay. Missing our father, and the heat’s getting to her, too.’
‘It would, with her colouring.’ Helena was struggling for conversation and was glad when Alex appeared. She watched his face fall as he saw who the visitor was.
‘Hi, Rupes,’ he grunted.
‘Hi, Alex.’
‘What can I do for you?’
‘Well, umm, the thing is . . .’
‘I’ll leave you to it, shall I?’ Helena said quickly, realising she wasn’t wanted. ‘See you tonight, Rupes. Eight-ish?’
‘Yeah, sure.’
‘Well,’ Rupes cleared his throat when Helena had left the kitchen. ‘You, er, know . . . what’s happened to our family?’
‘Yes.’
‘The problem is, my parents can’t afford to send me to Oundle now, even with my sports scholarship. It’s only twenty per cent of the fees, you see.’
‘I do see,’ Alex agreed.
‘Mum got in touch with the Bursar to explain, and he’s said they might consider giving me a full financial bursary, means-tested of course. They still want me for the rugby, you see. I’m trialling for the England under-18s team in a few weeks.’
‘That’s good news, isn’t it?’
‘Sort of, yeah.’
‘So?’
‘Well . . . my Common Entrance exam score wasn’t that great. To be honest, I didn’t really work that hard, because I knew they wanted me for the sport. But to get the bursary, they want me to sit their own academic exam in a week’s time.’
‘Oh,’ said Alex. ‘Right.’
‘The thing is, if I don’t pass, I’ll be off to a local comprehensive somewhere.’ Rupes hung his head.
‘Okay, I get it. But where do I fit in?’
‘Where do you think?’ Rupes waved his hands in agitation. ‘We all know you’ve got a brain the size of Russia.’
‘Russia’s actually far smaller than it used to be these days, but thanks anyway.’
‘Alex.’ Rupes put his palms flat on the table. ‘I’ve got to pass this exam, but I’m crap at English, worse at French and just about passable at maths and science. I need some extra coaching in the humanities. Will you . . .’ He cleared his throat. ‘Will you help me pass?’
Alex whistled. ‘Blimey, Rupes, you want me to teach you?’
‘That’s about the size of it. Mum’s had some test papers sent over. Can you go through them with me?’
Alex rested his chin on his hand and sighed. ‘To be honest, Rupes, I’m not sure I’m the right person to ask. I’ve never taught anyone before.’
‘You’re all I’ve got. I’ll pay you, if you want. I have a few quid stored away, even if my parents don’t. In fact, I’ll do anything. You are my only hope.’
‘There’s no guarantee I can get you through. It’ll be down to you in the end.’
‘I’ll work and work. Anything you say. Please.’
‘Okay,’ Alex said with a slow nod, ‘but I don’t want your money. Just an apology for behaving like a prick.’
‘Fine.’ Rupes puffed up his chest and winced as he breathed out. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘For behaving like a prick,’ prompted Alex.
‘For behaving like a prick,’ muttered Rupes.
‘Right. When do you want to start?’
‘As soon as possible.’
‘No time like the present.’ Alex stood up. ‘This afternoon I want you to write me a five-hundred-word comprehensive essay on how you believe bullying can be stamped out in schools, and how the bullies should be punished. I will mark it accordingly, then go through it with you to look at your mistakes. Okay?’
Rupert reddened, but nodded in agreement. ‘Okay, deal. Now I’d better go.’
‘’Course. See ya, Rupes.’
‘Yeah, see ya.’
‘Darling, I’ve finally managed to open that drawer,’ William announced as he came into the bedroom that evening.
‘Really?’ She turned to him, her face full of anticipation. ‘And?’
‘I’m afraid it’s empty, although I think we ought to get the desk treated for woodworm. The little blighters are eating it alive.’
‘Oh,’ she said, disappointed. ‘I really thought there might be a clue to Angus’ lost love in there.’
‘Well, at least I managed to get in without breaking the lock.’ William looked at his watch. ‘Ready to go? It’s nearly eight o’clock.’
‘Jules, you look fantastic! Doesn’t she, Helena?’ said William.
‘Absolutely,’ Helena agreed. Jules had obviously lost weight in the past two weeks, and her newly defined figure had given her a statuesque elegance and accentuated her toned, tanned legs. Her normally nondescript brown hair now shimmered with sun-induced auburn highlights, and hung softly around her face. A pair of chiselled cheekbones had appeared and her dark eyes shone with a new-found confidence.
‘Flatterers,’ Jules replied coyly as she led them onto the terrace of the villa. ‘I just haven’t been hungry recently. It seems trauma is the best diet on the market. And it’s free,’ she said with a little laugh. ‘Chloë not here?’
‘No. Surprise, surprise, she’s gone out with Michel,’ answered Helena. ‘They only have a couple of nights left together before she has to go to France.’
‘He’s a nice lad, Michel,’ Jules acknowledged. ‘He came down here to mend the air conditioning earlier on. Drink, anyone?’
‘Hello, Auntie Helena, Uncle William.’ Viola kissed her godfather, then clasped Helena around the waist.
‘Hello, darling. How are you?’ she asked.
‘I’m good.’ She nodded excitedly. ‘Guess what? Mummy’s let me adopt a kitten!’
‘Has she?’
‘For the holiday only, Viola,’ corrected Jules. ‘Alexis will look after it when we leave.’
‘Will you come and see her?’ Viola pulled on Helena’s arm. ‘She’s sleeping on my bed and she is so cute!’
‘I’d love to, darling.’
‘I’ve called her “Aphro” after the goddess, and also ’cos she has all this long frizzy hair,’ Viola explained as she led Helena by the hand into the villa.
A few seconds later, Rupes appeared at the entrance to the terrace. He beckoned to Alex, who nodded and followed him inside.
‘So, William,’ Jules said, handing him a glass of wine, ‘what do you think of this place?’
He walked across the vast terrace, obviously recently laid with immaculate cream stone. ‘It’s got a view to rival Pandora’s, that’s for sure,’ he said as he paused to take in the vista.
‘Alexis built it specifically so it had the best view of the sea.’ Jules pointed across the valley. ‘Right between those two hills. I love it here. Everything is new and fresh and comfortable. I wish I could stay for longer.’
‘How are things?’ William asked. ‘I haven’t heard from Sacha since he went to England, though I’ve left him a number of messages.’
‘We’ve been communicating by email. He’s told me they’ve given him six weeks to pack everything up at the house and get out. And I’ve said I’m not going back to help him. To be honest, William, I just couldn’t face it. If he’d only put the house in my name originally as well, it might have been a different story.’
‘I’m sure,’ William acknowledged. ‘What will happen to all your things?’
‘I’ve asked him to put them in storage until I’ve decided where the three of us are going to live.’
‘Any ideas?’
Jules shrugged. ‘The jury’s out at present. I’m still hoping Rupes can get the Oundle bursary, if he can pass the academic test, that is. And if I do go back to England, I’ll probably move close to his school and rent somewhere. Viola would have to go to a local junior school for now.’
‘That all sounds sensible.’
‘Well, there’s part of me that never wants to see England again, as you can imagine. I love it here, but I’ll have to work from now on, of course. ’
‘What will you do?’
‘I was a pretty good estate agent before I gave it all up to look after Rupes, remember? I’m sure I can find someone to employ me on the back of my experience.’
‘Well, I’m glad you’ve started to move on, Jules,’ said William. ‘It’s been a tough old time for you.’
‘I don’t have a lot of choice, do I? Sink or swim, I’d say. And Alexis has been fantastic. He’s the polar opposite of Sacha, in every way. He’s really looked out for me since I moved in here and nothing is too much trouble. He’s joining us for dinner, but he had to go to Limassol today, so he said he might be a little late.’
‘Mummy, Auntie Helena loves the kitten,’ said Viola as she and Helena emerged through the French windows.
‘Who wouldn’t? She’s adorable.’ Jules smiled at her daughter. ‘So, shall we eat?’
William, Helena and Alex left just before midnight to drive home.
‘Fancy a brandy on the terrace?’ asked William, as Alex said good night and wandered off upstairs to bed.
‘No thanks, but I’ll keep you company if you like,’ replied Helena, sitting down under the pergola as William went inside to get the bottle.
‘Another completely clear sky,’ she remarked, as he returned and sat down next to her.
‘Yes. The stars here are truly amazing.’
‘Jules was different tonight. She seemed . . . softer, somehow.’
‘I know what you mean,’ William agreed. ‘Ironically, just when she had every reason to be bitter, the hard edge has gone, and she looks happier and more relaxed than I’ve ever seen her. Did you . . . see what I saw tonight?’
‘You mean Jules and Alexis?’ replied Helena.
‘Yes. They seemed very comfortable with each other. I can’t speak for Alexis, but I think she’s definitely fallen for him.’
‘Who knows? They could both use some love and companionship, that’s for sure.’
‘A few weeks ago, the thought wouldn’t have crossed my mind, but it did this evening,’ William mused. ‘Even if it’s only a fling, I doubt it would hurt either of them.’
‘Alexis isn’t the type to hurt anyone. It’ll be interesting to see what happens.’
‘And . . . if it does go further,’ he said, ‘how would you feel about it?’
Helena reached for William’s hand and held it tight. ‘I promise, I would feel absolutely fine.’
ALEX’S DIARY
9th August 2006
I understand now why those in control become power freaks and lose the plot.
Henry VIII, who dumped God and decided he’d take over the job instead.
Stalin, Hitler, Mao, who were the Devils Incarnate.
Bush, who wants his god to be Top Dog.
And Blair, the puppy, who’s lost his hair and his good intentions along the USA way.
Tonight, while I was reading through Rupes’ essay – which was abysmal to say the least and wouldn’t get him into nursery, let alone a top British boarding school – I had a sudden glimmer of that same feeling.
As he looked at me, desperately searching my face for a positive reaction, I knew I could make or break him.
It was magic! For a few seconds, at least.
Then I felt sorry for him. My kind heart is what will stop me ever attaining a position of serious authority, because I can’t bear to see anyone suffering. A girly trait, I know, but I was born to it; to see the other side of the story.
If I’d been presiding over Saddam Hussein’s first trial, I know what would have happened: even though I loathe the evil bastard for all the suffering he brought to so many, I’d have seen him sitting there in front of me, a sad, mad, broken old man.
All he’d have to have said is something like ‘My mother didn’t love me,’ and I might have sent him off to a comfortable prison cell to spend the rest of his days having counselling and watching reruns of Friends.
It does make me wonder whether at heart I am destined to vote Liberal Democrat.
So even Rupes, my sworn enemy, wh
o’s caused me more pain than Chinese water torture and mosquito bites combined, got to me today. I saw his vulnerability.
He’s a thick, thick-necked rugger-bugger, whose future really is buggered if I don’t lend a hand. And of course I will.
He needs to learn to spell tout de suite. I have left him poring, or, as he would undoubtedly put it, ‘pouring’, over the Oxford Dictionary. I have written out a list of impressive-sounding adjectives he is to learn by heart, which can be slotted in ad hoc to jazz up an essay.
His French is a nightmare. Tonight we are at the ‘un, deux, trois’ stage, and I think I may have to enlist some expert help if we are even to get close. I will make the ultimate sacrifice and ask the fluent Chloë to lend a hand with the French letters . . . I mean, lessons, tomorrow. That is, if she promises to wear a yashmak while she works on his verbs so that he can keep his mind off his French Mistress as she does so.
Rupes, dear boy, you have set me the ultimate challenge.
And however much I want to walk past you in the gutter one day, homeless, with only a rabid, scabby dog for company, I know I cannot be party to your downfall.
I also feel that ‘academic tutor’ will look good on my future CV.
Eventually, I settle down and try to sleep. Rupes is coming for tuition at eleven tomorrow morning, and I lie here thinking how I will plan the lessons. And I suddenly feel grateful to my still unknown gene pool for providing me with a brain that seems to function fairly effortlessly.
This brings me back to another ‘subject’: that of my own history. Whilst I’ve enjoyed the past couple of weeks of stress-free living, I haven’t forgotten the question that I swore to myself I’d get an answer to before I leave Pandora.
Beware, Mother dearest, you are not off the hook.
I will ask it.
κ′
Twenty
‘Morning, Dad.’ Chloë drifted sleepily into the kitchen and pecked her father on the cheek. ‘Did you have a good night?’
‘Surprisingly, it was actually very pleasant. Jules was on really good form.’
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