by Fanny Blake
‘I wish I’d had a calling like that.’
‘But you’ve got a family. I forfeited that.’
‘Deliberately?’ Kate couldn’t believe that anyone would forgo the all-consuming pleasure of children.
‘Yes. Rob and I decided that we would throw all our energies into making the business work. And it did.’
‘Did?’ Kate hadn’t missed the catch in her voice.
‘Yes, did. We’re not going to be working together any longer.’ She was not inviting questions. ‘We disagree about the direction we should take so I’ll be looking after the business on my own from now on.’
Kate looked at her, but Amy’s eyes were hidden by her sunglasses, and the rest of her face gave nothing away.
‘That’s brave.’
‘Not really. I’ve got a great team.’ She sat up quickly. ‘In fact, talking of them, I ought to just catch up with emails before everyone surfaces again. Do you mind?’
‘Not at all. You go ahead. I’m very happy here.’ Kate shut her eyes again as Amy went inside. Left alone to her thoughts, Kate had to try to shake off the apprehension she was feeling. The next few days didn’t look as if they were going to be quite the restful time promised. If Amy planned to confront Jane or Linda over what happened, things could get pretty uncomfortable. Jane was not someone who backed away from confrontation. Kate, on the other hand preferred an easy life. And she’d put money on Linda doing the same. What was more, there was definitely something that Amy was not saying. If it emerged over the next days, however much she might prefer it not to, Kate would support her if she could.
8
Jane shut her bedroom door, thankful to be on her own at last. She pulled off the short kaftan that she’d brought back with her from Pondicherry when she and David had spent a couple of weeks in Tamil Nadu. That was the last big holiday they’d taken together. A couple of years ago now. She lay flat on the rug near the end of her bed. A few stretches would help get rid of the residual stiffness from the flight. She pulled her knees up to her chest and rocked gently from side to side, feeling the pull on her spine.
Very soon, she’d be meeting Rick in Barcelona. That had been the final deciding factor in making this trip. That and the fact that she wanted to get away before the tribunal. She would have to face up to what she’d done just a few days after she got back. What better reason to escape and recharge her batteries?
When he called her, she had mentioned that she ought to come to Mallorca for Kate’s sake even though she didn’t want to. Quick as a flash, he’d said: ‘Why don’t we meet up while you’re out there? Perfect excuse … Just a suggestion,’ he added when she didn’t immediately reply.
‘We couldn’t.’ But the temptation was almost irresistible.
‘Not in Mallorca. But you could fly to Barcelona.’
‘What about David?’ A flicker of guilt troubled the edge of her conscience. After all, he had suggested they take a break together, too.
‘What about him?’ Rick’s voice was like warm chocolate. ‘Tell him you’re at a conference for a couple of days. He’ll never know.’
Caught by the spirit of his idea, she had caved in. David hadn’t questioned her. Quite the opposite.
‘This gives me just the excuse I need for a couple of bridge evenings and that concert I said I wanted to go to,’ he’d said a couple of days later.
‘But you don’t play bridge.’
‘I’m going to learn. Might be a good thing to do of an evening when there aren’t any emails to answer.’ She said nothing. Though she shouldn’t, she wanted both men in her life – they complemented one another and between them gave her everything she couldn’t find in just one of them. Selfish? Perhaps. But practical too.
He had driven her to the airport, kissed her cheek as she got out of the car. ‘See you next week, love. Enjoy your reunion and I hope you get something out of the conference.’ He didn’t ask any more about the subject of the conference or who would be there. He’d long ago given up trying to involve himself in the gritty detail of her job, easily satisfied with the basic generalities. He didn’t have the stomach for half the cases she dealt with. Of course, with his medical background, Rick did.
She stretched out her legs, then twisted her torso from one side to the other and back, feeling the stress ease from her body. Rather than think about the impending tribunal, she turned her mind to David and what he would be doing now. She bet he’d be in the garden with the newspapers, a cup of coffee, music drifting outside from the speakers in the living room. Content.
After a few more stretches, she got up and lay on the bed, able to relax at last. She looked down at herself, pleased with what she saw. She worked hard to keep her body in this good shape. David had taken it for granted for years. Rick was the one who still appreciated it. The thought made her breath catch. How ridiculous to feel like this about the man she had married and then let go. But this way was better for both of them. She picked up her phone and started to text him then deleted it. Instead she sat up, arranged her body so she looked her most seductive and took a selfie. When she’d finished editing it and changing the filters, she texted it to Rick.
Thinking of you. Only four days to go and she pressed send.
She lay back, eyes closed, remembering the last time they were together. Drifting, her hand slipped into her bikini bottom, touching, imagining. She was brought back to the present when her phone pinged with Rick’s response. She picked it up.
Are you feeling all right?
Not the response she’d been expecting. She was working on a pithy rejoinder when her eye caught the name of the sender. Shit! She checked again. No! Not possible. But it was.
David.
She had sent the photo to David by mistake.
Suddenly she was wide awake. How could she have done that? She checked the thread, disbelieving, only to confirm that was exactly what she had done. Her photo sat right underneath the last text she’d sent to him, asking if he’d bring back some onions for supper three nights earlier. How could she have been so careless? After so many years of extreme caution, of warning Rick to be nothing but discreet when communicating with her, in one unguarded moment, she had been the exact opposite. She would have to reply. Say something. She thought quickly and typed …
Fabulous. Just thought you should see what you’re missing
She sent it. Would that wash?
Another ping alerted her to a photo of a cup of coffee and a newspaper.
I wasn’t invited, remember, so no choice. Making the best of things here though.
She smiled as relief rushed through her. She wasn’t safe to be left on her own.
There was a knock at the door. ‘Jane!’ Her name was whispered.
She grabbed her kaftan and flung it over her head. ‘Yes?’
‘It’s Kate. Fancy a walk? Amy’s got to pop down to Sóller.’
‘Isn’t it a bit hot?’ She tried to excuse herself.
‘I wasn’t planning a trek, just a short explore. Apparently there’s a nice circular walk we could do – about forty-five minutes. Linda’s staying by the pool.’
After that text mess-up Jane was far too wired to sleep. Goodbye siesta. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed. ‘OK. I’ll be with you in a minute.’
Walking along a lane edged by olive trees growing on terraces held in place by the neatest of drystone walls, their route ran parallel to the rooftops of Fornalutx below.
‘Isn’t this wonderful?’ Kate flung out her arms to encompass the surrounding landscape. ‘I knew it would be gorgeous. She obviously surrounds herself with beautiful things – you can tell that from her website. But this is … just heaven. I feel quite different here.’
‘I’m hoping for a bit more than trees, pretty villages and sunshine.’
‘Like what? Don’t be such a misery. If you don’t
try, you haven’t a hope of enjoying yourself. It’s very generous of her to have us here.’
Jane laughed. Kate was the only person who ever dared tell her like it was. ‘I know. I’m cross because I’ve just done the stupidest thing. I’m sorry.’
‘What?’
‘I’m an idiot, I sent David a text meant for someone else.’
Kate raised an eyebrow. ‘That isn’t so bad, surely? Can’t you just explain to him?’
‘Not that easy.’ She tipped her hat forward to shade her face. ‘Not that sort of text.’
‘What sort of text was it?’ Always curious.
Jane was wishing she hadn’t said anything and tried to brush her off. ‘Oh, you know.’
‘No I don’t,’ Kate insisted. ‘What was it? You can tell me. You know I’m like the grave when it comes to secrets.’
That was one thing Jane had learned long ago. Kate enjoyed gossip but if entrusted with a secret, her discretion was rock solid. ‘It’s nothing, honestly.’
‘Then why are you cross?’
Jane folded in the face of her persistence: another of Kate’s sterling qualities. ‘It wasn’t anything I said. I sent a picture of me in a bikini to a man I’ve been seeing. At least I thought I did.’ Jane picked her way up some stone steps that shortcut the bend in the road as it wound up the hill, fuming at having put herself in this situation. ‘In fact I sent it to David by mistake.
Kate stopped dead, looking torn between shock and laughter. ‘Who?’
Jane felt the urge to say something. Unburdening herself would come as a relief after so long but, however tempting it was to offload, she didn’t want to hear her friend’s disapproval.
‘But what about David?’ Kate had always had a soft spot for David, found his tiresome old jokes funny. Life would be so much easier if Jane did too, but she had heard them too often and, like most jokes, they had dimmed with repeated telling.
‘He has no idea. That’s the point. I’ve been seeing …’ She hesitated. ‘Well … Rick … if you must know.’
‘Rick?’ Kate was disbelieving. ‘Not Rick, Rick?’
Jane nodded, already regretting she had said anything.
‘But you divorced him years ago. It’s not true!’
‘We met up again at a medical conference years back. It’s just sex, nothing else,’ she added hurriedly. ‘But obviously I don’t want David to find out.’
‘Just sex!’ Kate‘s disbelief had turned to disapproval.
Jane had expected shock but usually Kate sat on the fence in any debate, seeing the issue from both sides, unable to come down on either.
‘How often do you see him?’
‘Not often. Two or three times a year. Twice in the last month – but that’s an exception.’ She wouldn’t mention Barcelona.
‘But why? I thought you were happy with David.’
‘I am, but Rick and I have still got that …’ She cast about for the right expression. ‘Sexual chemistry. That’s all it is. We both know that.’
They were walking side by side, both of them looking at the ground.
Kate kicked a stone so it skittered off the track. ‘And now you’ve given David a clue.’
‘But I think I covered up OK.’
‘Then why tell me?’ Kate tipped her face back to the sun. ‘God, I love it here … Of course I won’t say anything but I think you’re a fool.’ She looked towards Sóller, the town further along the valley. ‘I wish you hadn’t told me.’
Why indeed had she said anything to Kate? Because she wanted someone to understand, someone she could talk to in order to understand herself. But she should have known better than to expect sympathy from someone whose views on marriage were traditional. She should have kept her secret to herself.
‘How did Amy do so well?’ Kate changed the subject.
‘Grit and determination. Don’t you remember what she was like at school?’
‘That cross-country running. How I hated it. But she never gave up, even when it was sleeting and the rest of us had hidden in a barn.’
As they reminisced, a scrappy little dog raced out of a rusty iron gate, straight towards them, barking as ferociously as an animal three times its size. There was a shout and a man ambled out of the gate behind it. ‘Jove!’ But the animal ignored him and raced towards Kate.
She bent over, her hand out for Jove to sniff, otherwise not moving, waiting till it calmed down.
‘Don’t touch him!’ yelled the man, an American, hopping on one foot as he used a finger to pull the back of his trainer over his other heel. ‘Come here, you bloody animal. So sorry.’ He ran towards them. ‘My wife’s dog.’
‘Because he couldn’t possibly be yours.’ A stringy, over-tanned woman in a black crochet bikini, her blonde hair scraped back into a ponytail, appeared at the gate behind him.
At that moment, before they had time to get into a full-blown argument, Jove, who had been sniffing suspiciously at Kate’s proffered hand took the opportunity to snap at her finger. Just as quickly, he dashed past her and on up the hill.
‘He bit me!’ She shook her hand in the air, before squeezing her fingers with her other hand.
‘I’m so sorry.’ The man drew level with them. He was good-looking in that way some men are when just turning the corner from their best days: greying curly hair, tanned, lean and angular in his shorts and flapping open shirt. His gaze travelled over their shoulder in the direction Jove had taken. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Of course she’s not,’ said Jane. ‘Let me see.’ She took Kate’s arm.
‘Jove!’ The man’s wife ran past them, taking no notice of them. ‘Where are you? Come here.’
‘He’ll come home on his own, Sheila. Brendan Barrett,’ he said, holding out his hand.
Both women ignored it.
Kate was examining the middle and index fingers of her right hand. ‘He hasn’t broken the skin.’
‘Are you sure?’ Jane leaned over to see. ‘You shouldn’t take any risks with a dog bite. Perhaps you should see a doctor, just in case.’
‘I’m sure there’s no need for that.’ Brendan was frowning. ‘Come into the house and wash it. A cup of something.’
‘You should keep your dog under control.’ Jane shouted at him over Kate’s shoulder as she followed him towards the gate.
‘It’s fine, honestly,’ said Kate. ‘It was just a shock. He did warn me.’
‘Not many people walk along here,’ Brendan said as if that was an excuse as he stood back to let them through first. ‘Where have you come from?’
‘Amy Green’s,’ said Kate.
‘Oh, Amy,’ he said, as if that explained everything. ‘You’ve taken a wrong turning if you’re on the circular walk. I’ll take you back.’
‘That’s okay. We’ll manage.’ Jane had taken an instant dislike to these people, but followed him and Kate into the garden. Hidden behind the drystone wall was a low building, the door in its centre wide open. Through the shady hallway was a white-walled living room with a high vaulted beamed ceiling and furniture draped with colourful throws, a dining table covered with books and papers. Pictures hung squint on the walls and over everything hung the faint smell of dog.
‘I insist you have a drink – for the shock.’ Brendan gestured towards the open folding door that gave on to a wide sheltered terrace and a plunge pool beyond. He spun round. ‘But forgive me. The bathroom’s this way.’ He led Kate back into the hall and out of sight, leaving Jane on her own. She walked through to the terrace, turning as she heard the pad of bare feet on the tiles behind her. Sheila stood behind her with Jove in her arms, the dog’s upper lip rolled back in a snarl.
‘Your friend shouldn’t have held out her hand. He’s very nervous.’ She stroked the animal’s head. ‘Shh, baby. He doesn’t like strangers.’
Jane pursed her lips. �
�We gathered. You’re lucky that it wasn’t more serious.’
‘Shut him in the bedroom, Sheila.’ Brendan reappeared. ‘Now, what will you have? Sit down.’ He gestured towards a table with four white plastic chairs gathered round it.
‘Something soft. Lime and soda?’
‘Lime and soda it is. Your friend’s joining me in a glass of rosé.’
‘Isn’t it a bit early, Brendan?’ The woman returned without the dog, having covered up in a floaty kaftan.
‘Guests, Sheila. They’re on holiday.’
‘But we’re not.’
He ignored her.
Being with them was uncomfortable despite Brendan’s hospitality. He knocked back his wine and poured himself another under his wife’s disapproving eye, all the time chatting about the area, the things they should be sure to see, relieved Jove hadn’t inflicted any greater damage. In the background they could hear the dog barking from the bedroom. Sheila said little, once or twice looked at her watch. Her relief when Jane suggested they had to get back was embarrassing, although Brendan seemed not to notice. ‘I’ll drive you.’
Jane glanced at his third glass of wine, glinting in the sunlight. ‘No, it’s fine. We’ll walk.’
‘We want to find our way around,’ said Kate needlessly as she stood up, leaving her glass three-quarters full.
‘Let me at least put you on the right track.’
A bit late for that, thought Jane, taking another meaning from his words. She was the only one who could put herself back on the right path. If only she had the courage and resolve.
9
That first night, we sat outside on the terrace with the paella Carmen had made for us – one of her specialities. The smells of saffron and garlic drifted across the table. Fat pink shrimps jostled with plump mussels in their shells, tender chicken pieces and chunks of spicy chorizo in a mixture of rice, tomatoes and peppers. Above us, the inky black sky was spangled with hundreds and thousands of stars. It couldn’t have been more perfect. Superficially, we were getting on better, though I suspect I wasn’t the only one feeling the occasional undercurrent of tension. We all recognised there was one subject we’d have to address but at the same time we steered around Mr Wilson and what had really happened. However I was in no hurry and Kate’s enthusiasm and energy kept us all on an even keel and the conversation flowing. Even Jane began to loosen up a bit.