by Fanny Blake
He dismissed that with another laugh and a disbelieving shake of the head.
‘Why have you changed your name?’
His expression changed, and she thought she saw a glint of fear.
‘What are you hiding?’
‘Nothing.’ His knuckles whitened as his grip on the table tightened. ‘I just wanted a new start.’
‘Linda! Are you back here?’ Dan shouted before knocking on the door and looking round. ‘You OK? Oh!’ He stopped when he saw Jack.
‘This is Jack Wilson, Dan. He once taught us all art. He was just saying that he’d like to come up to the house.’
‘So you’re the guy who couldn’t keep his hands to himself.’ Dan’s face flushed as he advanced into the room, fists clenched. ‘The younger the better, eh?’
‘Steady on.’ Jack pushed back his chair and stood up, ready to protect himself. ‘I was a young man myself. No one was under age. No one said no.’
‘Not true. My sister said no, and look what happened to her.’ He took a step towards Jack.
‘Don’t!’ Linda stood in his way. ‘He’s not worth it. Now I’ve seen him, I can see what a pathetic man he is. Amy should have the chance to see too.’
‘And what if I won’t come to see her?’ He was belligerent now, challenging her.
‘What’s an apology going to cost you?’ Linda couldn’t believe she was saying this. Wouldn’t it just be easier to leave now she’d seen him, enjoy the unexpected sense of release she was experiencing. Confronting him had been the right thing to do, it turned out, so perhaps Amy should come down to the gallery herself? On the other hand, she was relishing having some kind of small control over him at last. ‘I think William would be very interested in the story. He could have this exhibition taken down in hours.’
‘He couldn’t.’ The alarm on his face was gratifying.
‘But do you want to risk it?’
19
After she’d been to the bakery for essentials, Amy had left Kate in the village.
‘You don’t mind, do you? I’ve got more bloody emails I need to answer, and I want to talk to Jane.’
‘Not one bit.’ Kate was pleased to be given an excuse not to be there when they locked horns again. ‘I need to get some postcards and I’d like to explore.’
The supermarket was easy to find, a little further along the main street on the corner of the village square. Kate chose her postcards carefully from the rack outside. She would be home way before they arrived but at least they would show that she hadn’t forgotten everyone while she was here. The supermarket was surprisingly big, much more than the door that opened on to the village square would suggest. Before paying, she wandered up and down the aisles, enjoying the funny ham-and-cheesy smell and checking out the unfamiliar packaging. In the end she treated herself to a packet of biscuits.
She decided to sit down for a coffee and an ensaimada while she wrote her cards so took a table outside the café next to the supermarket. Next to her, a couple were locked in a game of cribbage. Up to her right, above a retaining wall, the church stood solid and square, its small clock tower crowned with a weathervane. Above her fluttered tatty white-and-orange tickertape-type bunting strung from the spreading lime tree by the road to all sides of the square. Down a wide alleyway opposite, two other cafés were beginning to fill with customers. But here outside this one, Kate, definitely had the best seat to watch the goings-on in the square where locals stopped to chat to one another, children ran about and a couple of walkers with sticks and backpack were poring over a map.
She looked down as a one-eared grey cat wound its way around her legs, miaowing for food. She tickled its neck as if it was one of the farm cats. She missed them: Black Bomber; Mandy; Mouser; Tallulah; the Boss. In fact, she was missing home altogether. She envisaged herself and Alan walking across the wild moorland landscape with the sheepdogs at their heel. It was strange to be so disconnected from everything that made her who she was. Of course she missed the kids too, especially Noah and Molly who, though grown-up, still treated their family home as if it were a campsite. As she pictured Noah’s room – he was twenty-seven for God’s sake – and the constant mess in the kitchen where neither of them ever put anything away, perhaps she didn’t miss that side of them so much. At least Kit and Lara were making their own way but Home Farm would always be there for them. Then she remembered Alan’s call this morning. He couldn’t find a clean shirt. Had he never been into her laundry room? Of course he had. He just hadn’t thought to look there where she had left a couple hanging up freshly ironed for him along with everything else he might need. Perhaps she shouldn’t complain. In fact, perhaps she should go away on her own more often.
She saw Brendan before he saw her. He was ambling down the steps that led down from the church door on the opposite side of the square. He stopped by one of the souvenir shops, checked his reflection and adjusted the angle of his battered panama, then carried on down. He was wearing his uniform of baggy shorts, an old shirt, espadrilles and the ubiquitous basket. Kate bent over her postcards, trying to look busy. She didn’t want her time alone to be interrupted.
‘On your own? Mind if I join you?’ Before she had time to reply, he had plumped himself down at her table. ‘I always have a morning coffee here if I’m around, catch up with friends and acquaintances.’ He raised a hand to greet a local woman who was passing – ‘Bon día’ – before turning back to her. ‘Have you ordered?’
‘Not yet.’
‘Then let me treat you. Diego!’ He called over the waiter and ordered them both coffee. ‘Anything else? An ensaimada?’
‘If you are, it would be rude not to.’ She put her pen on the bag of cards. They would have to wait.
The order was in front of them within minutes.
‘Where are the others?’ he asked, stirring three packets of sugar into his coffee.
She tore a piece off her pastry and put it in her mouth. ‘Jane and Amy are up at the house, and Linda’s gone to Valldemossa with Dan. I came down here to have a bit of me time. Something I don’t get much of at home.’
‘And I’ve ruined it. I’m sorry.’ He picked up his basket as if he was about to leave.
‘Not at all. You count as part of this amazing place. I was trying to imagine what it must be like to live here.’
He smiled, his eyes almost disappearing in the creases round them. ‘It’s like anywhere. It has its marvellous points – sunshine, sea, mountains, beautiful walks – but it has plenty of negatives too. You guys only see what goes on on the surface. You’ve no idea of the petty feuds, the gossip, the objections to local planning – all that sort of stuff.’
‘I live in the country so I know very well. I’d love to think it doesn’t happen here.’
‘Sorry to disappoint. But I want to know more about you.’ He put his elbows on the table and cupped his chin in his hands. ‘ How come you’ve fetched up here?’
‘I’ve kept in touch with the others since school and suggested we met up. I didn’t think the others were keen but then Amy invited us here. I loved the idea because …’ She couldn’t tell him about Alan giving her the duvet and her childish resentment that she was being taken for granted. ‘I’ve never been here before,’ she finished up. ‘I gather the boat trip was a big success.’
‘You’ll have to come aboard.’ He saluted as if to the captain of a ship. ‘Will you have time?’
Perhaps she was meant to salute back, but she refrained. ‘We’re leaving tomorrow, so probably not.’
‘But you’ll be back?’
‘There’s so much we haven’t had time to see, but who knows.’ Kate thought of Dan, sorry she might not see him again. ‘Who knows? I hope so.’ She pulled herself up short. She wasn’t an infatuated teenager or, like Lara, desperate for a boyfriend. Dan was the kind of guy who flirted with everyone, and she had been flattered. Ha
ving his attention, even for that short while, had been like discovering an oasis in a desert.
‘A walk?’
‘I’m sorry?’
‘Let’s go for a walk. I’m going to visit a friend and I could take you with me and then you could walk back. You won’t get lost and it’s beautiful up there.’
‘Why not? I haven’t got anything else to do.’ She surprised herself. Her only plan had been to visit the souvenir shop on the way up the hill on her way home, but she could do that later.
He raised his hand for the bill. ‘On me. I insist.’
As he stood up, he picked up his basket and planted his hat on his head, revealing a neatly mended tear under the arm of his shirt. ‘This way.’
They walked up to the closed front door of the church and turned left through the village along the narrow pedestrian streets. The road widened as they walked out of the old centre, past a wall smothered in blue flowering plumbago. At last they came to a road that led out of town. Voices came from above a high wall to their right along with the clink of cups and saucers. As they left the buildings behind, the land dropped away to their left; drystone terracing, olive groves populated by sheep and their bells, a view across to the other side of the valley where they’d walked down to Sóller. With the warmth of the sun on her skin, the smell of roadside herbs in her nostrils, Kate felt there was almost no better place.
‘So how do you find Ca’n Amy?’ Brendan’s voice startled her.
‘Quite beautiful. Amy’s got an extraordinary eye. Nothing’s—’
‘And Amy herself?’ He spoke over her, uninterested in a eulogy to Amy’s taste.
‘She’s fine. Why?’ Was his interest for small-town gossip or out of genuine concern?
‘They’ve got an odd sort of marriage and I worry about her.’
‘Hasn’t everyone?’ She remembered Sheila and Jove. ‘Why do you say that?’
Brendan’s face lit up at her interest. ‘Well … far be it from me, but … they’re here separately quite often these days.’
‘That doesn’t mean anything. Plenty of couples have relationships that work better because they do things independently. Allowing each other to be your own person can be a good thing.’ Not that she and Alan were like that – until now.
He laughed and kicked a stone to the edge of the road. ‘Don’t get me wrong but for years, he’s brought other women here on and off. I’ve seen for myself. Not many, and not often. They usually stay up at the house but of course people have noticed. And recently he’s brought the same one more than once.’
All this news disturbed Kate. She didn’t like the suggestion that Amy’s marriage might be in trouble, she didn’t want the perfect image to be hiding something so painful. And surely Rob couldn’t be so stupid as to think that no one would notice if he had brought other women to the island. But that was none of her business. Did Amy even know, she wondered. If she didn’t, should she say something? Alert her? But wouldn’t that be too intrusive when the way Amy and Rob ran their relationship had nothing to do with her? She didn’t like Brendan’s attempt to elicit information from her, and she wasn’t going to be the one who helped him.
‘Perhaps you should talk to her yourself.’
‘Wouldn’t like to rock the boat – to use a sailing term.’ His wink made her recoil. ‘We’ve been friends of theirs for years. He’s a laugh, Rob. He doesn’t care what anyone thinks. We’ve had plenty of good times together.’
‘Even if I did know anything, I wouldn’t tell you.’
He lifted his hat so she could see his eyes avid for gossip. ‘I only thought you might be interested in finding out what’s going on. For her sake.’
She stopped for a second. ‘Afraid not.’ But inside, she was dying to know so that she could offer Amy any support that she might need.
He stood still too. ‘Ah well.’
Kate was glad to have disappointed him.
‘Well, this is where we part ways,’ he said as if they hadn’t had the conversation at all. ‘You can go on,’ he indicated a sturdy post with an arrow carved into it for walkers that directed her up a narrow path alongside a low stone wall. ‘Or you can turn back.’
‘I’ll go on for a bit.’
So they went in their separate directions, Brendan turning into a driveway to their left, leaving Kate with her own thoughts. The pleasure of walking alone in the open air, sun on her skin, breeze in her hair, to the sounds of birds and sheep bells, was too great for her to want to turn back.
As she walked, she thought about what Brendan had said. Amy seemed so composed, so on top of her life. Could her carefully curated image of a beautiful woman with a perfect marriage and a successful business be hiding something quite other? How different that was from her own set-up, where what you saw was what you got. Except that wasn’t quite true. Alan was a wonderful husband who had given her everything she had ever wanted. As a young woman, she had dreamed of a beautiful country house (tick), a large family kitchen (tick) for her large family (tick). She had wanted nothing more than to bury herself in family life and that was what had sustained her for years until all the children grew up and began their own lives. The thing about living on a farm was that there was never any shortage of things to do. All those sheep needed looking after if they were to make any kind of a living from them. And yet … Like Amy’s, from the outside, her marriage was a success but now, if she was honest with herself, the lustre had dulled and cracked. Her mind turned to Dan …
A sudden ‘Baaa!’ made her jump. At head height, on the top of a drystone wall, a sheep looked down at her, not moving but poised to get on to its spindly legs and run if it had to.
‘Don’t you judge me,’ said Kate. ‘A little bit of a flirtation never did anyone any harm. And who knows when I’ll get another chance.’
The sheep got to its feet and crapped a neat little pile of droppings before ambling off in the direction of its flock.
‘Well, thanks. If that’s the best you’ve got to offer.’ If she kept going, perhaps an answer would come to her. With age, one’s chances were narrowing all the time. Opportunities came less often so had to be grabbed when they did. That’s why she was here, after all.
But, Dan. Was he an opportunity to be grabbed? Or was the sun going to her head? He obviously liked her. Should she relax and let herself go? She allowed herself a little smile at thought. What harm would it do? The flattery and the fun were a treat, and no one at home need ever know.
When they first got together, Alan did try. He even surprised her with an engagement ring that he had chosen with the help of his mother and sister, although the knowledge that he didn’t choose it on his own took some of the magic out of his proposal.
She twisted her rings round her ring finger. The top one was the one she’d had made from a diamond and ruby brooch Alan’s mother had given her, the second was the Victorian engagement ring Alan had given her, a sapphire flanked by two diamonds, the third her slim gold wedding band that had never left her finger since the day they married. Her marriage might be frayed at the edges and worn like a favourite piece of clothing, but the warp and weft of the fabric was still intact and strong.
However, if the scissors cutting it were sharp enough …
At nearly midday she turned around and began to make her way back to the village. Her thoughts reverted to Amy and Rob. Amy hadn’t talked much about him, but that was some people’s way. She had only seen the one photograph of him in the living room that had been removed the day after they arrived. Was that a sign that all of them had missed that something was wrong? Surely not. Kate didn’t want any cracks in Amy’s façade. She liked the idea that having had nothing, Amy, through her own hard work, now had everything.
20
While the others were in the village, Jane took her iPad to the terrace table and got to work. Obsessing over the identity of Jack Walsh w
as giving her something think about other than her messy home life, so she started googling with determination. If he really was their Mr Wilson, there must be a reason for him changing his name. Even if done on a whim, that still begged the question – why the whim? Finding the answer took much less effort than she’d anticipated but the reason why was far more shocking.
She took a good long look at the photo of a Jack Wilson taken on a security camera at Gatwick, and another at the mugshot on a newspaper website. There was no doubt that was the man they had all known. His face then, its contours, the way his mouth curved very slightly downwards on one side when he smiled, they were all etched on her memory. He was a little older here, perhaps ten years but not so much he wasn’t recognisable. She bookmarked the page and waited for the others’ return.
As soon as she heard the sound of the car, she was on her feet. Showing Amy what she had found could be a bridge between them. She didn’t like being given the cold shoulder even if they were only giving her a taste of her childhood medicine. Not that Amy had been unpleasant but since the party, she had put a distance between herself and her guests that was uncomfortable. Perhaps something else had happened because, since last night, she’d been more distracted and had dropped her interest in whether Jane had shafted her or not. At least she had in front of the others. Thank God.
Amy came out to the terrace. She looked tired and her smile was strained. ‘Kate’s stayed to explore but I thought I’d get back. I’ve got a work thing I need to sort out – one of the shops has a lower turnover than forecast this month, and we’re trying to work out why. Also I wanted to talk to you and clear the air. Coffee?’
‘Love some. Thanks. But look, I’ve got something to show you.’
‘Let me make the coffee first.’
‘I think you’ll be interested in what I’ve found.’ Possibly the understatement of their stay. While she waited, made impatient by Amy’s lack of immediate interest, Jane watched the bees busy in the lavender growing by the edge of the terrace. A lizard paused, shiny green in the sun, then raced for the shade of a stone. Smoke rose from a bonfire further down the valley, bringing with it the smell of burning wood. Voices rose from one of the orange groves below. Several throaty motorbikes roared along the top road. What was taking Amy so long?