The Villa of Dreams

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The Villa of Dreams Page 17

by Lucy Coleman


  ‘Tomas is insisting he take the pressure off me while he’s back for a while, and I do need that, but I honestly can’t remember anything about it.’

  ‘He’s on top of it and so is Filipe, so you can relax.’

  Reid merely shrugs his shoulders, but he doesn’t look bothered about it. ‘When I’m working in my studio, it’s easy to switch off. Do you mind if I do a little sketching at the weekend, while you’re reading?’ he asks.

  ‘I’d love that; it’s a chance to see you at work.’

  ‘I warn you, my cooking skills are sadly lacking.’

  ‘Mine aren’t much better,’ I laugh. ‘I’m sure that between us we won’t go hungry.’

  Neither of us wants to end the call and I can tell when we say goodnight, there is that urge to be reckless hovering on our lips. We are a twenty-minute drive apart, but it isn’t about the distance, it’s about the delicacy of our respective situations.

  The call leaves me feeling sad on the one hand and elated on the other. Hearing the excitement in his voice and knowing how much effort he’s putting into planning our weekend away is beyond touching. And it’s thrilling. My head is sounding warning bells and yet I’ve never felt so happy. Now I finally understand the meaning of the words ‘love hurts’ because it does. Nothing about our relationship is normal.

  Reid’s life has shades of my past that are so uncomfortable, it grates on me. I can’t ask him to give his family and career up, no more than he could ask me to let go of my dream of a simpler, more relaxed lifestyle. Is there a middle ground? Am I really prepared to settle, make no demands and end up alone and bitter if Beatriz reaches out one day to reclaim him again? Or worse, he begins to understand what I’m doing now is simply a means to an end and the life I see stretching into the future is of no interest to him. Honesty is the only way forward and it’s time I made Reid aware of my plans.

  Part III

  April

  14

  A Glimpse of Paradise

  It’s been agony counting down the days, and, today, the hours, until I could leave work. If ever I had that ‘thank goodness it’s Friday’ moment, that was it, multiplied by a hundred, and Carolina could see I was excited about the weekend ahead.

  The smile hasn’t left Reid’s face since he picked me up fifteen minutes ago, but his attention is firmly on the road ahead.

  ‘Are you going to tell me where we’re going?’ I ask.

  ‘No. It’s a part of my surprise. Be patient, it’s a thirty-five-minute drive if the traffic heading away from Lisbon at this time of the evening isn’t too heavy. But first I’ll lay out the rules.’

  I turn my head to stare at his side profile. ‘Rules?’ I reply, sounding mortified. ‘Surprises don’t come with rules.’

  ‘Mine do. Rule number one is that we don’t discuss work.’

  I’ll give him that one. ‘Agreed.’

  ‘Rule number two is that our first stop on the way is a supermarket and we go food shopping together.’

  That makes me laugh. ‘Okay… we need to eat, that’s only fair. Let’s hope that between us we can rustle up a few meals that will at least be edible. How long is this list?’

  What I don’t tell him is that Maria has been giving me lessons and I now have two traditional, Portuguese dishes committed to memory. I wanted to let Reid know that I appreciate this weekend, a little respite for us both during a frenetic period of our lives.

  ‘Two more. Rule number three is that at some point when you are reading, you let me sketch you.’

  ‘Really? Okay, but I’m not sure how good I will be at sitting still. Last one, then, and that’s it.’

  ‘There’s an envelope in the glove compartment. I want you to open it and when I explain, I want you to say thank you, Reid and accept it with good grace.’

  I continue staring at him, noticing his thickening beard – it seems he doesn’t shave when he’s in his studio. And his hair could do with a trim. But I can see he has switched off from all his worries and he’s happy to live in the moment, with me.

  ‘Go on,’ he bids me.

  I reach forward and, sure enough, there’s a padded envelope with my name written on the front. Holding it in my hands, I can’t imagine what’s inside. It’s surprisingly bulky.

  ‘Open it, then.’

  I tip it out onto my lap and two sets of keys fall out. Left inside is a little bundle of paperwork which I slide out, but it’s all in Portuguese.

  ‘Keys? Is this some sort of treasure hunt?’

  I watch as Reid’s tongue moistens his lips, he’s so happy he can’t stop beaming and I can see that he’s dying to turn his head to look at me.

  ‘The set of keys with a fob is a birthday present.’

  ‘But… you don’t know when my birthday is, Reid,’ I reply, haltingly, because it’s clear that he does.

  ‘Why do you think I arranged this weekend? I have contacts everywhere.’ He begins to laugh as I look at him, amazed. ‘It’s on Monday, my informant tells me. Unfortunately, it would have meant contacting Filipe to arrange for you to have a couple of days off and I knew that wasn’t the right thing to do. So, I hatched a plan. It’s a car and it’ll be delivered in about a week’s time. Someone will be in touch to sort out the insurance for you. I’m assuming you have a driving licence as you were talking about hiring a car at one point.’

  ‘Yes, of course I have a UK licence, but I can’t accept a car as a present, Reid. A box of chocolates, a dinner out… but not a car.’ This isn’t right.

  ‘You know how hard I work, Seren, you are no stranger to hard work yourself. If I can’t give someone a present because I want to, then what’s the point of earning money? I want to do this, and I will be offended if you refuse it.’

  He’s serious.

  ‘Reid, I don’t need something expensive to impress me.’

  ‘Ah, now I’ve made you cross. That wasn’t my intention at all. You make me happy, Seren. Whatever happens from here on in, I have no expectations or demands because that’s not my right. But it makes me happy to do something for you and, believe me, it wasn’t easy finding out when your birthday was, because I had to do it discreetly. Allow me a moment of joy, please. You know what they say about gifts, the pleasure is in the giving. The car is yours and I hope you like it. I’m confident you will. For me, planning all this has been more exciting than Christmas.’

  His delight is genuine, but I’m not sure how I feel about it. I don’t want to appear ungrateful. No one, even my father, has ever done anything like this for me before. However, I can’t help but wish that Reid hadn’t.

  ‘Please indulge me and I’ll explain why. When I was eight years old, I often stayed with my grandparents down in Devon, for the weekend. Their neighbour, George, was a great old guy who spent most of his time tending his garden. He’d hear me kicking a football against the side wall of the house and he’d shout over the hedge, “Ready to pick a few veggies, little ’un?” and I’d make my way down to the lane at the back. There was a communal path and I’d walk the few paces as he unlocked his rusty old gate.

  ‘It was like wandering around a market garden. Row after row of neatly planted onions, lettuces, carrots, potatoes, and canes bearing runner beans and peas. He’d head off to find me a box and we’d wander around picking a bit of this and a bit of that, chatting as we went.

  ‘You see, George didn’t have any close family, no one knew why, but I was happy to spend time with him. He was very patient and a kind old guy. In fact, it was always one of the highlights of my trips. As an adult, I looked back fondly on those times, realising that it delighted George to share the results of his labour and teach me a thing or two about horticulture. He said nothing you bought in a supermarket could compare to something you grew in your garden. And he was right. But I also enjoyed listening to him explain what each plant needed to grow strong and healthy, and how to keep the slugs at bay by sinking yoghurt pots full of beer into the soil. Yes, beer. He once told me: “Always give
without remembering and receive without forgetting, and you won’t go wrong in life” which didn’t really mean anything to me back then. But it does now. I wanted to make your birthday special, because you’re special, and you’re far away from the people who have known you all your life. That can’t be easy.’

  How can I be cross with him?

  ‘What means more to me is the thought you put into this. My father would give very generous presents every birthday and Christmas, but it wasn’t until I went to work for him that I found out his secretary bought them. Not just for me, but for Mum, too. It was diarised and each year she’d take a couple of hours to go shopping on his behalf. I always thought it was strange he bought such appropriate gifts, things I’d certainly have chosen myself. But she had a daughter of about the same age and it must have been easy for her. A nice little break from the office, too.’

  ‘Oh, Seren, I’m sorry to hear that, it’s sad.’

  ‘The one thing he knew how to do was to write a cheque. No thought went into it for him, it was just like any entry in his diary, an obligation that required an action.’

  ‘I didn’t mean to hit a raw nerve. Forgive me.’

  ‘It’s fine, you have nothing to apologise for, Reid. You weren’t to know and it’s my hang-up. A car is way too generous, though.’

  He steals another quick glance at me. ‘Can you find it in your heart to forgive my exuberance and accept the gift in the spirit in which it’s given? I had this picture in my head of you driving along the road, the top down, sunglasses on and your hair floating on the breeze. The thought made me smile. It’s in pepper white, but that’s the only thing I’m going to tell you about it.’

  We burst out laughing.

  ‘Oh Reid, you are impossible to resist. I feel ungrateful saying this and I don’t mean to be, really, but it has to be a one-off.’

  ‘I’ve never known a woman get upset over a present before. Next time I’ll make sure I get it right. I’ll take you shopping, that way I won’t get myself into trouble.’

  ‘Expensive presents aren’t my thing, that’s all.’

  He can feel my discomfort. ‘Maybe you are placing a value on money that it doesn’t have, did you ever think of it in that way? Money can never buy love, can it? And I’m not the sort of man who throws money at people. If I give you something it’s because I want to and, personally, I can’t see anything wrong with that, but I will respect your views in future.’

  He’s probably right, but for me expensive gifts are a trigger. My father thought money was the solution to every situation and I ended up despising him for it, because what Mum and I wanted was his time.

  ‘The other set of keys are to the place we’re spending the weekend. I’ve rented it for the entire summer and it’s yours to use whenever you want. Not just when you’re with me, but if you decide to take a break from work or use it when your friends fly over from the UK. It will sleep six people in total.’

  I’m speechless. ‘That’s really thoughtful, but, I mean, well—’

  ‘Please don’t overthink this, Seren. I want you to be able to get away. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, personally. I know you aren’t comfortable at the Casa da Floresta. And I really don’t want to upset your neighbour, so that rules out late-night visits and early-morning departures.’

  I can feel the heat rising up from deep within. A little place we can escape to, together.

  ‘Now, are you ready for an entirely different kind of shopping experience?’ Reid adds, putting on a silly voice as if he’s doing a commercial and I groan at him as we turn off the main road and pull into a supermarket car park. Drawing to a halt, he unhooks his seat belt and does a half-turn to sit looking at me. ‘Just because my life is the way it is right now, doesn’t mean it will always be like this, Seren. I can change, but nothing happens overnight, it’s a process. Just hang onto that thought.’ And then he grins at me, before easing out of his seat to walk around and open the passenger door. ‘Right,’ he says as he offers his hand to help me out. ‘My one impressive signature dish is fish stew. What’s yours?’

  ‘Duck, arroz de pato and Maria’s version is amazing.’ I search around in my bag and produce a little list of items, waving it at Reid. ‘I came prepared and I also make a passable pastéis de bacalhau.’

  He pulls me close, leaning in to place a swift kiss on my cheek and lingering for a second as if he can’t believe we are here together.

  ‘For the first time in years, I feel able to switch off and I couldn’t be happier,’ he whispers softly into my ear. ‘It’s all because of you, Seren.’

  ‘I need you to close your eyes now and don’t open them until I say you can.’

  ‘Seriously?’

  ‘It’s an order. What do you not understand about the word surprise? It’s about time someone spoiled you, and before you give me one of your fixed stares, I simply want to make this a fun experience for us both. I’m excited and I want you to feel the same way. Humour me and relax.’

  I do as Reid asks and I wonder why I find this all so difficult to cope with; is it surrendering myself to someone else’s control that I find hard, because I’ve spent my entire adult life fighting that? Every man who has tried to step into my life, however briefly, has failed to keep my interest. I don’t want a man whose ego means he’s constantly trying to prove how superior he is and showing off doesn’t impress me. Reid is the first man I’ve met who is making an effort to understand what makes me tick, because it matters to him. What’s not to trust? He’s done nothing wrong, it’s just too much, too soon, and I can forgive that because his motives are genuine – can’t I?

  ‘You’re not peeking, are you?’ he chastises me, as my fingers begin to drift apart and I quickly draw them together as they linger over my eyes.

  ‘Of course not!’ I exclaim, offended. ‘I love surprises, who doesn’t?’

  ‘That wasn’t at all convincing. Sit still, I’ll come and get you out of the car. I want your first glimpse of the view to be unobstructed. You’re in safe hands, I won’t let you fall, I promise.’

  Seconds later, he’s lifting me to my feet and then he wraps an arm around my waist, gently leading me forward. At first, there is loose gravel, then the soft, springy feel of turf beneath my feet. I can already hear the sea and the soft lapping of waves. We are walking up a gentle incline and I take a deep breath, filling my lungs with the pungent smells wafting around me. The sea air is invigorating, as the light breeze catches my hair and whips it back and forth against my hands.

  ‘You can open them now,’ Reid says, tightening his grip around my waist and turning me slightly to my left. Then he draws me even closer to him.

  I stand, slowly scanning around to take in the panoramic view. Directly in front of me, as the grassy mound on which we are standing drops away, is a swathe of empty beach and beyond that the blue sea ripples gently, the brilliant sunshine turning it into a mirror of light. The breeze forces the water up onto the beach like arms reaching out and, as it ebbs, the sun’s rays turn the tips into a myriad of sparkling little jewels. It’s a tiny little cove, the beach part sand and part cobble. We stand in total silence for several minutes enjoying the beauty and tranquillity of the moment.

  Reid eases his arm from around my waist and uses his hands to swivel my body to our right. A mere fifty or so metres away on the headland above the cliffs, is a cluster of buildings surrounded by tall, whitewashed walls. The look is geometric and from here the only thing I can see is what looks like white boxes, the side profile showing the angular shape at the front. They all look out over the sea and, cleverly, with all the windows front-facing, when you are inside it must give the impression of having no one and nothing around you.

  ‘This is a beautiful view, Reid. Where are we?’

  ‘Carcavelos. This neighbourhood is called Sassoeiros. There are eight villas here and they were all designed by the same architect.’ He releases me, letting his hand stray down to catch mine. ‘We’ll head back
to the car. You grab the bunch of keys and I’ll carry the shopping. We can come back for our bags in a minute.’

  He parked in front of a triple garage to the rear of the first property. Rescuing the padded envelope from the side pocket of the passenger door, I turn to follow him. As we approach the tall wooden gate, he hangs back, instructing me to press the fob against the electronic pad. It swings back with ease. The path follows the line of the building, which runs off at an angle. When we reach the end of it and I turn the corner, the path opens out into a fan-shaped area and for the first time I glimpse the front of the property.

  ‘Oh, my goodness. What a clever design. This is not at all what I was expecting.’

  Reid juggles the two large shopping bags, so he can stand a little closer to me as we gaze out to sea. The view is, as expected, unobstructed, but immediately in front of us there is an infinity pool, surrounded by a wooden deck. Either side of that, the lawned areas are a luscious, manicured green. Instinctively, I turn to walk along the dusky-pink swathe of terracotta tiles forming a wide patio that spans the entire width of the property.

  We walk past a pair of wide, glass doors and this part of the building is a cube, set at a slight angle, and next to it another pair of similar doors are at a right angle to them. Both look out onto two of the boundary walls forming a courtyard to the side. One is covered in a leafy green climber, the other is a profusion of vibrant pink blossom, which tumbles down in a cascade of colour like a waterfall.

  As we turn slightly to the right, we approach the main part of the building and a set of triple sliding glass doors. Glancing inside, I see that it’s a spacious sitting room. Overhead, a huge angular box rises up, forming the first floor and an overhang, giving some welcome shade. Beyond that, the straight wall to our right continues on for another three metres and the second set of triple glass doors is the kitchen and dining room. This part of the house is single-storey again. An oversized solid oak table and chairs stands directly in front of the doors, over which there is an open metal structure made up of square posts. Glancing up, there are hooks for sails to give some shade.

 

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