by Fanny Blake
Eventually he climbed out. ‘Fancy a coffee?’ He shook his head so spray rained off him, just missing her, then towelled his hair.
‘I’d love one.’
‘Coming right up.’ He left wet foot prints on the tiles all the way into the house.
Well. She had not been expecting this. Her book was less attractive now than ever. Taking advantage of his absence she sat up and rubbed sun cream over her legs, pretending the dimples of cellulite weren’t there. She had just started on her arms, when …
‘Need any help with that? On your back I mean?’ He must have seen her surprise.
‘Do you always sneak up like that?’
He put down her coffee. ‘Only if I want to surprise someone.’ She was glad he had found himself a pair of dry shorts and put them on.
‘Why would you want to surprise me?’
‘Your face was a picture. Let me help.’ He stretched out a hand for the cream.
‘I’m fine, thanks.’ She popped the top back on the tube and put it back in her bag. Anything else would unacceptably intimate.
He put up a parasol so that it shaded his lounger. ‘Are you going in?’
‘Not yet.’ Sweat pricked her forehead as the heat became unbearable but she was too self-conscious to get in the pool. The last thing she wanted was to swim up and down in front of him. She didn’t want him considering her in the way she had him.
‘Ah well.’ He stretched himself out with his arms behind his head. She could have counted his ribs if she’d wanted to. ‘You don’t mind if I join you for a bit?’
‘Of course not.’ There was hardly a choice.
He grunted his thanks. ‘So. A school reunion. Whose bright idea was that?’ He sounded amused.
‘Amy’s, actually.’ She was unnecessarily defensive.
His eyes gave away his amusement but he wasn’t put off. ‘I’m surprised you’ve all kept in touch. She’s done so well that people are frightened of her now.’
‘Are they?’ She didn’t believe that.
‘Aren’t you? Really?’
‘No.’ Although she had felt better once Amy and the others had left for their walk, but she wasn’t frightened. Intimidated maybe. A little bit.
He changed position so he was lying propped on one elbow, his eyes on her.
Feeling uncomfortable and hotter still under his scrutiny, she walked to the pool steps and splashed down them, as inelegant as you like, hardly able to breathe because she was pulling in her stomach so hard. However the water was deliciously cool and once in she felt less self-conscious. As she swam up and down she made up her mind not to be intimidated by either of the Greens. She was here to enjoy herself, and that’s what she would do. When she got out, she pulled over a parasol to shade herself and settled back on the lounger.
‘I do remember you all, you know.’
‘I should hope so.’ That sounded sharper than she’d meant to. The coffee he’d brought her, though lukewarm now, was delicious.
‘Jane was the leader of the pack then, wasn’t she? Amy had such a crush on her.’
‘I think we all did back then.’
‘But she blew hot and cold, right?’
‘Maybe a bit.’ But of course that was exactly how it had been. ‘It’s so long ago, I can barely remember.’
‘I can. Amy was once so upset when she was the only one not invited to some birthday do. There was something else she was left out of too.’
‘That must have been years ago, long before we got to the sixth form. There was always stuff like that going on back then. The flipside was that there were plenty of others she was invited to. Anyway it wasn’t just Amy and it didn’t happen all the time. I think we all fell in and out with each other over the years.’ Once Jane had told her that no one in their class liked her. That slight had gone unforgotten but no doubt there were others that she was guilty of too. ‘That’s just girls.’
‘Does that make it OK, then?’ He pulled an elastic band out of his pocket and pulled his hair back into its ponytail.
‘Of course not. But we’ve survived and got over it.’ She wasn’t sure why she had to be so defensive but she wasn’t going to subject herself to a lecture from him about the rights and wrongs of their friendships. ‘Amy’s tough.’
‘Don’t be so sure. She might be successful but not in the way she wanted. You know how her dreams of being a doctor went up in smoke. That still hurts. And someone’s to blame.’
‘If you say so.’ But she was puzzled. ‘But if she wanted it so badly why not take the exams later? Being expelled wasn’t what stopped her.’
‘Wasn’t it?’ His eyes were darker than she remembered. ‘She was thrown badly off course and went off the rails for quite a while. When she was trying to get herself back on the straight and narrow, she didn’t have the confidence to do more than help Mum.’
‘It happened so long ago.’
‘You must know who was behind it?’
He made it hard to tell whether he was teasing or asking her a serious question. She frowned, not trusting herself to speak.
‘Amy told the truth about that teacher, you know,’ he said. ‘She may be many things, but she’s not a liar.’
Unlike some, whispered a voice in her head.
‘I don’t know what happened.’ But you do have an idea, came the voice again. You do. ‘It’s not important any more though, is it?’
‘Something as life-changing as that is always important.’ His face suddenly was serious. ‘She may look as if she’s brushed all that under the carpet but it’s still there – just out of sight.’ He traced his finger along the line of the paving. ‘She could have gone to uni – she’d have been the first person in our family to do that – and she would been a doctor. I’m not sure that having something as big as that snatched away from you is something you’d ever get over.’ His voice rose as if he was asking a question, but it wasn’t one.
‘Perhaps you’re right.’ She spoke quietly. ‘But if she wanted it that badly, she could have done her A levels again later, applied for medical school when she was older.’
‘Oh, come on. Have you forgotten? Our parents barely had a pot to piss in. Once Amy started making money it all went to them. By the time she could have afforded to change direction, she was far too entrenched in her business and, dare I say it, too old.’ He slapped his hand on the ground. ‘Of course she wants to know what really happened. I understand that.’
He was right. Nothing was ever entirely buried in the mists of time. How could Amy possibly have forgotten? Kate had hoped that time might have obliterated that summer from everyone’s minds, but that had been naïve.
‘Know this.’ He sat up, swinging his legs off the lounger so he faced her, leaning forward. ‘If anyone hurts her again, they’ll have me to answer to.’
‘Where were you then?’ Kate felt her courage returning. ‘Why didn’t you help her when she needed you?’
‘I’d left home.’
Of course he had. She remembered his farewell party in the basement of a York pub, all dark wood and engraved glass. She and Jane had gone with Amy and stood on the sidelines – his little sister and her friends. No one took much notice of them, least of all him.
‘I’d escaped to London, was working in a record shop and living in my first squat.’ He grinned. ‘I heard it all through Mum and Dad at the time and had no idea how serious it was. I was way too caught up in my own life. It wasn’t till I came back and it was all over that I really understood.’ He paused. ‘If I knew who did for her, I … well, I’d …’ He clenched his fist, then laughed. ‘I don’t know what I’d do.’
‘Well, you don’t have to worry about it being one of us.’ She picked up her book and opened it to signal the conversation was over.
‘That’s good.’ He lay back on his lounger and hummed an unidentifiable
tune that gradually faded away.
Kate was far from asleep. Her mind was buzzing as it tried to grab at the memories that dodged her reach just as she closed on them. She remembered the basics of what happened in that summer of ’76 but not the detail any longer.
Dan started humming again, tapping his fingers on the edge of his bed. She cleared her throat.
‘I’m sorry. Force of habit.’
‘This yoga platform …’
He lifted his head. ‘Mmm?’
‘Is that all you do now?’ Amy had said he drifted from job to job. She could believe that of a twenty-something but Dan was in his sixties, for God’s sake.
‘I do anything that’ll make me a buck or two. That was in Goa. A Canadian guy I know was opening an Ayurvedic retreat there. I offered to help in exchange for a treatment or two, bed and food. Barter works for me.’
‘Have you always been …’ She stopped, trying to find the word.
‘What? Good for nothing?’ He grazed his hand over his stubble.
She smiled back. ‘Yep.’
‘Depends who’s asking. I haven’t always, although Amy would have everyone think so. I was married – briefly, admittedly,’ he acknowledged. ‘And I’ve had relationships since, even got me some children along the way. Arlo’s thirty now,’ he said in answer to her raised eyebrow. ‘He’s a lighting engineer. Works for the BBC – steady job. Nothing like me. Takes after his mum. Leaf’s twenty-nine. She went to Australia with her mother so I never see her. She’s a teacher there. And Jackson’s sixteen. He lives with his mum in France.’ He looked sad for a moment then recovered himself. ‘Yeah, I’m the original Teflon man – no one sticks to me for long.’
‘Why’s that?’
He laughed. ‘God knows. Too many bad habits, too selfish, too prone to temptation – all of the above.’
A burst of music interrupted them. He pulled his phone out of the purse that hung round his neck. ‘Yeah, we’re fine. Just had a swim and now we’re chatting. Sure.’ He held the phone out to Kate. ‘It’s she who must be obeyed.’
She took it. ‘Amy?’
‘Just checking you’re OK.’
‘Couldn’t be happier. Are you still in Sóller?’
‘Yep. Dan’s coming to get us, and we’ll have lunch at the house again. Brendan’s invited us on to his boat tomorrow.’ She didn’t wait for a reply. ‘Anyway, no one has to go, I just thought it might be fun.’
‘It would be.’ Kate couldn’t think of anything she felt less like doing. Being beside the pool was enough for her. She wished Dan hadn’t reminded her that Amy might have an ulterior motive for them being there. Now she felt more apprehensive than before.
12
They were in and out of the church in a matter of minutes. Jane’s interest in things religious was always short-lived, but she liked to be able to say that she’d been inside various European churches and seen whatever was notable in there. Once through the small door within a huge heavy one, the cool and quiet welcomed them in. A few tourists milled up and down the aisles, intent on the various gilded side chapels that were illuminated by flickering votive candles. Frankincense and polish flavoured the air.
Jane headed straight down the centre aisle to the ornate main altar. She had no time for anything else. She gave it a quick glance, aware that Linda had sunk into a more sober reflection of the gaudy extravagance in front of them. They stared up at the cherubic faces peeking out of gold clouds surrounding the virgin and child. Above them, in an elaborate cupola, flew the dove of peace.
‘Done?’ Jane spoke briskly. How did all this ostentation tally with anyone’s faith? She didn’t get it but turned to gaze at the stained-glass rose window above the door they had come in by and took a step towards it. The outside world beckoned.
‘Well, I—’
Still smarting from the earlier conversation about her father, she ignored Linda’s hesitation. If she wanted to stay to look at the side chapels, Jane could go on ahead and they could meet up later. No one criticised her family. They might not have been perfect but that was for her to say, no one else. Her parents had adored her, their only child, and only wanted the best for her. In return she did all she could to please them, even though she got it wrong time after time.
There was the time when her father found her with the boys who hung out in the playground, smoking dope, drinking cider. He’d come looking for her when her mother got worried when it was getting dark and she still wasn’t home. He had leaped out of the car and made her get in, to the jeers of the boys. When they had turned the corner, he stopped the car and slapped her cheek. ‘I’ve been driving around looking for you for half an hour!’ She never saw those boys again except to avoid them. When they got home, her mother reacted as always – turned her face away from Jane, making her disappointment clear. They had been hard to please, so she learned early on that bending the truth to get the reaction she wanted was the way to deal with them. Going into medicine had been her last-ditch bid for approval – and it had worked.
‘Shopping beckons.’ She took a quick snap of the rose window on her phone without looking at it too hard then headed to the door, leaving Linda to follow her.
Outside, enveloped in a wave of heat and noise, Jane felt her pulse quicken in response. She circled the tourists photographing each other on the church steps and went down into the square that buzzed with activity, stopping to take one of her own on the way.
A couple of high-pitched toots announced the approach of a wooden tram on a track that ran through the middle of the square. People scattered as it came through. The four carriages were crowded with tourists waving and looking out of its open sides.
‘This way.’ Jane threaded her way through the crowds to a long stall covered with bags of every description. ‘I love these.’ She picked up one of the straw baskets that Brendan and Sheila had been carrying and slung it over her shoulder. ‘I’ll take it.’ She glanced back towards the café where they had left Amy. She was still sitting at the same table, bent over her phone, engrossed in conversation.
Jane was in her element, mooching around the stalls, exclaiming over handmade jewellery, jams, beefy tomatoes, sponges, locally woven fabrics or turning over objects carved out of olive wood, buying a chopping board for her husband. ‘He loves cooking. I’m so lucky,’ she explained unnecessarily. Linda bought a rose-coloured scarf.
At a clothes stall, Jane leafed through the racks and produced a blue and white top. ‘You’d look great in this.’ Anything would be more summery than the dreary tan and taupe Linda had plumped for that morning.
Linda held it up in front of the mirror. Once upon a time, she would have leaped at something like this.
‘It’s perfect. Really lifts your face. You must get it.’ Jane was good at this. Shopping was one of her favourite ways of relaxing.
‘Oh, I don’t know.’ Linda handed it back to the stallholder.
‘If you’re at all tempted, you should. You only ever regret what you don’t buy.’ Jane was impatient with any kind of indecision.
‘You mean “do”,’ said Linda, smiling.
‘Whatever. Put it on over your T-shirt to get the idea.’ She picked it up again.
Linda did as she was told and lifted the garment over her head and slid in her arms.
‘See.’ Jane clapped her hands. ‘It’s perfect.’ Linda looked brighter, younger, more alive. More like her younger self.
‘I’ll never wear it to the library.’ She turned side to side.
‘So what?’ Jane looked for the price tag. ‘It’s only seventy-five euros. A snip. Go on, you’re on holiday.’
Linda took one more look at herself and pulled the garment over her head. ‘OK! I’ll take it,’ she said, handing the top to the stallholder and getting out her purse.
‘Right top, right decision.’ Jane was holding up a fitted yellow shirt
against herself. Linda clearly needed her approval so she gave it easily.
They walked away from the stall clutching their purchases with a renewed bond struck up between them. For the next half hour they meandered down the town’s noisy side streets where the market continued and shops had their own stalls outside, lingering over the fruit and veg and deciding to buy some strawberries to contribute to lunch.
‘It’s funny us all being together again …’ Jane spoke her thoughts aloud.
‘So generous of Amy to have us here. She would have been successful whatever she did – although it didn’t look like it for a while.’
‘You mean when she was hanging out with the punks? Remember how they used to stand on street corners, intimidating passers-by? They were trash.’ Jane dismissed them. ‘My parents told me I shouldn’t have anything to do with her after that. But all that’s so long ago now. Nonetheless, it’s odd that she was the one who organised this.’
‘Perhaps she wants to set the record straight.’ Linda stopped in front of a bakery with a long queue waiting in front of a window full of croissants, ensaimadas, sweet potato cakes, pizza pieces, and much much more. ‘Look at these.’
‘Set the record straight – what do you mean?’ Jane felt a stab of panic.
‘Sort out what really happened. She always claimed she was telling the truth about Mr Wilson and his watch. Perhaps she was.’
‘He would never make a move on one of his pupils. She must have made that up. He wasn’t that stupid.’ He had been gorgeous. Jane’s first case of unrequited love. In fact, as far as she could remember, her only case. She could picture his chiselled bone structure, piercing blue eyes and thatch of sandy blond hair, a dead ringer for Robert Redford whom they had all fallen for in The Sting. Mr Wilson was the next best thing.
But Linda had already walked on. It was funny she didn’t want to discuss those days. She had never been so prickly or self-effacing way back when. On the contrary, she had been form captain, sports captain and vied with Jane and Amy to be top of the class. And she had been beautiful. With the perspective of age, Jane now knew that every girl in her late teens was beautiful however they might think of themselves, but then Linda had been the pick of the bunch. Everyone thought so. Straight brown hair, bee-stung lips, and a model figure. They all wanted to look like her. What had happened to all that promise?