by Fanny Blake
She sank her teeth into the pastry. Oh! Something like a croissant that gave way to a brioche – soft, sweet and delicious inside. She couldn’t help smiling.
‘Come down here.’ Amy took them down some steps, then stopped and pointed. ‘Look up.’
Linda craned her neck to see faded red signs painted on the underside of some eaves.
‘Those date back as far as the fourteenth century, when people believed they protected the building against evil. Don’t you think that’s incredible?’
‘I can hardly see them,’ said Jane, brushing icing sugar off her T-shirt. Linda had seen her stuff her bun into a bin. You didn’t get a figure like that without denial. She took another bite.
The three of them left the village, following the path that wound up the other side of the valley. Amy and Jane were just ahead of her. Obviously they were fitter than she was and nor were their shorts chafing the insides of their thighs.
‘How come you went into medicine in the end?’ Amy broke the silence as the path evened out at last and they were walking parallel to the valley bottom, the village on the other side. ‘I don’t remember you wanting to be a doctor. That was my dream. Weren’t you going to be an actress? I can still remember that Romeo and Juliet.’
‘When I was Juliet to your Romeo! “Romeo, Romeo wherefore art thou …” God, we were so good.’ Jane put her hands on her hips and posed with her chin in the air. ‘I loved those school plays.’
Amy laughed.
‘Because you always scooped the best parts.’ Linda remembered how she had longed to be cast as Juliet but ended up as one of the crowd, while Jane walked off with the main part.
Jane looked surprised. ‘Did I? I thought it was Amy who was always being picked.’ She turned to her. ‘Everyone loved you in The Importance of Being Earnest.’
‘To your Gwendolen.’
Linda remembered that production too. She had been relegated to the wings as the prompter.
‘Yes, well. I did want to be an actress then but things changed,’ Jane said. ‘I joined the Dram Soc at uni but I wasn’t good enough.’
‘I suppose your dad wanted you to be a doctor.’ Amy was pulling up a piece of long grass from the roadside as she walked. She sounded almost envious.
Jane’s father had been an orthopaedic surgeon at the local hospital. ‘Consultants were gods back then and he was used to people saying yes to him, but I don’t remember him ever pushing me.’
Amy pressed her lips together. ‘Hmm.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘We were all scared of him when we came to your house,’ Linda explained.
‘He wasn’t that bad.’
‘Remember when he caught us drinking in the kitchen?’ Amy reminded her. ‘After that party when your mum had roped us in as waitresses and we went round knocking back the dregs?’
‘I don’t remember that,’ said Jane.
‘Probably because you were sick as a dog over the hall floor.’ Linda reminded her.
‘And his feet. He went ballistic,’ Amy went on. ‘He dragged you upstairs to the bathroom and we had to follow because we were staying the night and didn’t know what else to do. We were terrified. Kate too.’
‘If we hadn’t been there …’ Linda let the thought hang in the air. Somewhere nearby sheep bells jangled.
‘Are you sure?’ Jane looked completely blank. ‘Maybe I should have been more of a rebel. But when I tried they just yanked me back into line.’
‘I wish someone had yanked me,’ said Amy.
‘What happened?’
Linda hung back, realising this was the moment. Her head was pounding.
Amy stopped walking. ‘You can’t have forgotten that. I was expelled because no one believed a teacher would do what Mr Wilson did to me. No one would take my word over his. And then I was set up by someone so I was blamed for stealing his watch …’ She waited as if she was expecting Jane to say something but she had started to walk ahead. ‘I should have done brilliantly but I was so furious about how I’d been treated that I screwed everything up and did too badly to get into university. I didn’t care what happened after that. I’d let everyone down. My mum’s disappointment was unbearable, so I did everything I could to escape it.’
‘And we lost touch.’ Jane stepped aside to let a man leading a donkey through. ‘I saw you a few times after you’d left but …’
‘I cut you dead, I expect. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to know. I was so angry with all of you then.’
‘That’s OK. I understand better now. And if it weren’t for Kate making the effort to contact us, we might never have been in touch again.’
‘Let’s not talk about this any more,’ Linda said. ‘Not here. We’re meant to be enjoying ourselves.’ She didn’t want them to talk about Mr Wilson any longer than necessary.
‘That’s true. And anyway, I’ve moved on.’ Amy gazed at Jane’s back, then tipped her panama over her eyes.
After that, they didn’t talk but concentrated on the walk, on the views back to Fornalutx on the other side of the valley, and towards Sóller. On either side of them the neat terraces were separated by drystone walls; occasional gateways signalled houses hidden in the trees, while well-tended olive groves sheltered sheep who studied them gravely as they passed.
Eventually they descended into another small village. By this time, Linda was gasping for a coffee. Lukewarm water wasn’t enough. But the café they came to was closed and they didn’t pass another. Amy led them down a pedestrian street that wound between green-shuttered houses towards a tarmacked road signed to Sóller.
‘I hope Kate’s OK.’ Linda swatted an insistent fly. Her legs were aching.
‘Left with my reprobate brother? I should say there’s little chance.’ Amy pushed her hair off her face and replaced her dark glasses. ‘I’m sorry he’s descended on us. I’d no idea he was going to.’
‘Doesn’t he ever warn you?’ Linda had often wondered what it must be like to have a sibling. Being brought up alone by her aunt had been a lonely business, despite her friends at school.
‘No, he’s utterly useless. And it probably won’t be just a friendly visit. He’ll have run out of money or something.’ But she spoke with affection.
‘Doesn’t that drive you mad?’ Jane bent over to retie her shoe.
Amy scratched her arm, leaving a white mark on her tan. ‘Used to it. He knows better than to ask unless he absolutely has to because he knows I’ve reached my limit with him. He may get a job round here somewhere and stay at the house rent-free until he’s ready to go again.’
‘He’s family, though,’ Linda pointed out.
‘Exactly. And I’m all he’s got now.’
‘When did your parents die?’
‘A long time ago. Dad lost his marbles and had to go into a home which was thankfully short-lived. Mum eventually went to live with her sister near Bath. That’s why I moved there. That must have been one of the most considerate and brave things she ever did, so we didn’t have to worry about her. She was almost blind by then and Auntie Leekie was happy to look after her. She died about seven years later. What about yours?’
‘You must remember? My mother abandoned me and Aunt Pat brought me up. We never heard from my mother again.’
‘Oh God, I’m so sorry. Of course.’ Amy looked stricken.
‘Don’t worry. I’ve had a long time to get over it.’ As she had everything else that had happened to her when she was a young woman. She wasn’t going to tell how she cracked under the pressure of the second-year exams. Or how her boyfriend Smithy had gone off with Briony right under her nose. More abandonment. It never took much to summon up the hopelessness she had felt or the crazy reasoning that, if no one loved her and she was going to crash out of the exams, life was not worth living.
The trajectory of her life had chang
ed after that. Her academic ambitions, which had been sizeable, seemed unachievable after all so she scaled them down. If it hadn’t been for Mike picking her out when she was shelving in the university library and then later getting her to help with his early modern cookery collection, she couldn’t imagine what might have happened to her. Aware her life must seem a failure to anyone who had once known her, she tried to forget the part of her past which was, as it was proving now, unforgettable.
‘Have you ever tried to track down your mum?’ Jane hadn’t grasped that she wanted to end the conversation. This was how Linda remembered her, always confident she was right, slightly hectoring, making you feel inadequate if you didn’t go along with whatever she wanted.
Linda stopped in her tracks. ‘Why would I? She didn’t want me. I don’t want her. And, before you ask – everyone always does – no, I’m not in the slightest bit interested in what she made of her life.’ She looked embarrassed. ‘I’m sorry, I’m sure you’re not that interested either. So no, I don’t have any parents, my aunt’s in her eighties. I help her as much as I can but it’s difficult now.’
They turned on to a main road with a sign to the centre of Sóller.
‘Here we are,’ said Amy. ‘Time for a coffee.’ Despite the heat, she upped the pace, regardless of Linda wilting in the heat behind her, wishing she hadn’t given so much of herself away.
As they approached the centre, the streets filled with people. They passed stalls selling fresh fruit and vegetables, fish, dried meats and salami, the ubiquitous leather-handled reed baskets, clothes, jewellery, olive oil. Linda’s heart beat faster as she looked around. This felt quite different from the markets she knew at home.
They found a table at one of the cafés on the edge of the main square. In front of them, vast cream parasols and stretches of canvas suspended between posts shaded the stalls that hummed with activity. Over the whole scene presided the vast baroque façade of the church standing shoulder to shoulder with the flag-strewn town hall on one side and a bank on the other, while the other three sides of the square were made up of apartment blocks, restaurants, cafés and shops.
‘Dos cortados y un café con leche, por favor.’ Amy ordered for them all.
The waiter took their order, to return with the drinks almost immediately. The three women gazed at the busy scene in front of them. Linda’s legs zinged with the pleasure of being still at last. That was more exercise than they’d had for ages.
‘Fun, isn’t it?’ An American voice came from behind them. Its owner had a kind face under his misshapen straw hat and looked like an expat gone native in his unbuttoned white shirt, khaki shorts, and worn navy espadrilles on his feet. For some reason Linda didn’t understand, Jane was glaring at him.
‘Brendan, hi. Are you going to join us?’ Amy gestured towards the fourth and empty chair at the table. ‘I heard you met Jane but you haven’t met Linda.’
He nodded towards Jane, who avoided his gaze. ‘Good morning.’
Linda inclined her head towards him as she lifted her coffee cup. ‘Hello.’
As he shook her hand, a woman in a long floaty dress with a yapping dog clutched under her arm joined them. Over her other shoulder was slung a straw basket full of vegetables.
‘Wouldn’t be easier to leave him at home?’ asked Amy.
‘Brendan will never stay where I want him.’ A hint of a smile cracked the woman’s face.
‘Oh, ha ha.’ He put his arm around her shoulder, disregarding the snarling from under her arm. ‘Listen. I’m glad we’ve bumped into each other because I’d like to make up for yesterday. It wasn’t the best start – so, I’d like to invite you all on to our boat.’
Jane didn’t look bowled over by the idea but Linda was excited. Why come to a Mediterranean island if you weren’t going to see the sea? ‘I’d love that.’
‘This afternoon?’ he added. ‘We can take the tram down to the port.’
‘We ought to get back,’ said Jane, interrupting Amy. ‘We’ve left Kate and Dan up at the house.’
‘Dan’s here? When did he blow in?’
‘Last night. From Goa.’ Amy drained her coffee. ‘We’ve just walked down for the market and then he’s going to collect us.’
But Brendan was not so easily deflected. ‘Tomorrow morning, then, ladies?’
Linda cringed, hating that patronising way of being addressed.
‘Or afternoon?’ he went on. ‘It’ll blow the hangovers away.’
Was it that obvious? Linda tried one of the little biscuits that came with the coffee.
‘Can we tell you later?’ said Amy, quieting any objections from Jane with a raised hand. ‘At the party tonight? You’ll be there?’
‘Of course. It’s only a suggestion.’ But he sounded disappointed.
After the two of them had got lost in the crowds, Amy turned to the others. ‘No one has to go, don’t worry. They may not be for everyone,’ she gave Jane a pointed look, ‘but he’s got a good heart. You haven’t got long here, but going out on a boat might be fun. We’ll see what Kate thinks and what we feel like tomorrow.’
Linda gazed at the crowds, enjoying the sun on her skin and the activity around them.
‘Can we explore?’ Jane was already on her feet. ‘Let’s. We could meet back here in an hour?’
Amy showed no sign of getting up. In fact she was getting her phone out of her bag.
‘Sure.’ Linda galvanised herself. ‘I’ll come with you.’
Jane barely looked back as she said, ‘Let’s start with the church.’
Despite realising Jane didn’t really want her company, Linda joined her. The elaborate façade, with its large rose window and gothic turrets, soared above the square and suggested something too intriguing to miss.
11
After the others had left for Sóller, Kate cleared up breakfast, despite Amy’s assurances that Carmen would be up later. Having staff made her uneasy and helping out was the least she could do in exchange for their stay. Once the crockery was returned to its place on the open wooden shelves, she went to her room to get everything she needed for a morning by the pool. But first she phoned home.
Alan picked up his phone immediately. ‘How’s it going?’
She could hear the throb of an engine in the background. He must be out on the moors. ‘Better. We’re going to a party tonight.’
‘When are you coming back?’ As if he didn’t know. ‘I had trouble with getting the oven going last night so I ate the stew cold.’ Her special lamb stew.
‘Honestly, Alan! How hard is it to heat something up?’ She tried to control her irritation. ‘Perhaps you put the oven on automatic? The instruction manual’s in the kitchen drawer. You’ll have to look at that.’
He sighed as if this was the most onerous task she could have set him. ‘OK, I’ll find it. It’s not the same without you here though.’
She could imagine only too well. No one to get the oven working. No one to cook breakfast and make the beds. ‘I’ll be back soon.’ She stretched out on hers, looking out at the high grey crags of the mountains on the east side of the valley, the vivid green of the mountain pines, the grey green of the olive trees lower down, merging into the rich deep green of the citrus trees in the valley basin, all of them punctuated by the occasional graveyard green of a yew tree.
This place was a slice of heaven. If only she didn’t have to go back so soon.
A speck of an aeroplane left a long white vapour trail cutting across the sky.
Time for the pool and a spot of me time.
‘If you can’t tone it, tan it.’ Her daughter’s words flew into her head as she stretched out, feeling the sun on every bare inch of her cellulite. Too late to tone anything now. She was here and the most relaxed she had felt for ages. No husband, no children, no farm, no guilt, and no need of her book. She could just lie, staring at h
er surroundings and the blue, blue pool.
Behind her was the house, the wide veranda with one end covered by a pergola overtaken by deep red bougainvillea, the other a relaxed seating area with cushioned comfy seats, parasols and low tables. Shutting her eyes, she could hear birdsong and the bees in the lavender. Not a tractor for miles. In the distance, the sound of sheep bells. Someone had lit a fire so the smell of woodsmoke drifted by. She hadn’t enjoyed peace such as this for almost as long as she could remember.
A door slammed, startling her out of her reverie. Her eyes opened to see a completely naked Dan advancing towards her. His body was lean, not unattractive, tanned all over. All over. She quickly averted her eyes. Almost. Her husband was the only man she had seen naked for years and, fit as he was, he didn’t quite come up to scratch beside Dan. As for everything else – there wasn’t much competition there either.
‘Morning!’
He was still there. She turned back to look at him, surprised that he hadn’t run for his swimming shorts or something when he saw her. In fact, he held a towel in his hand and showed no intention of covering himself. She adjusted her sunglasses and held his gaze, careful not to look down.
‘Isn’t it beautiful?’ He flapped the towel in the direction of the mountains. ‘I never get tired of it.’ He was walking along the edge of the pool quite at ease with himself. He obviously wasn’t trying to embarrass her or expecting a reaction of any kind. So, she wouldn’t give one. This was just what he did. She tugged at the bottom of her swimsuit to stop it riding up and made herself comfortable. He wouldn’t come and sit beside her, would he? That would be impossible to deal with. She observed the muscles in his legs as he walked.
‘Have you had a swim?’
She cleared her throat. ‘No. Not yet. I’m waiting till I’m much hotter.’
There was a splash. He surfaced into a relaxed crawl. Up and down. Even with his hair plastered to his head, he was still a handsome man. Studying him, now he wasn’t looking at her, she could see the boy that they had all known and fancied. The blond mop of hair might have thinned, greyed and got longer but those blue eyes hadn’t faded. His face might be weathered and lined but it had at least avoided being buried in a middle-aged layer of fat. That young man was still there.