For Love or Money: A laugh out loud, heartwarming romantic comedy

by Clodagh Murphy

  It should be a good thing to be calmer, more content. But he hated the way aging chipped away bit by bit at everything that made him who he was. Inside he was still the same person he’d always been. But only the people he’d known all his life saw that – saw him. To everyone else, he was just a gentle, subdued old man with everything he used to be consigned to the past.

  ‘Can you believe that son of ours?’ Jane said, flopping down on the lounger that Stella had vacated. ‘Poor Louis not cold in his bed.’

  ‘Scott?’ Peter grinned. ‘He was ever thus. He always made friends easily.’

  ‘Yeah.’ Jane smiled crookedly. ‘He takes after you.’

  ‘For better or worse.’

  ‘I like to think our children have the best of both of us. That’s why they’re perfect.’

  ‘At least that suggests I had some redeeming qualities.’

  ‘You weren’t the worst. The good always outshone the bad.’

  ‘Almost always,’ he murmured.

  ‘Almost,’ she said with a faraway look.

  ‘Well, you’re still speaking to me. That must say something.’

  ‘It says a lot,’ Jane said, smiling at him. ‘I think we’re doing okay for an old divorced couple.’

  ‘We’re bloody marvellous. I’m glad you were able to come,’ he said to her. ‘It’s nice being back here, all of us together. It makes me feel like my old self again.’

  ‘Your young self, you mean. That’s what you really want.’

  ‘Isn’t that what we all want?’

  Jane shrugged. ‘I have no desire to be twenty again. I think it suits me being a wise old owl. I’ve grown out of my looks and into my personality.’

  Peter raised his eyebrows. ‘When did you get to be so mature?’

  ‘Three-score years and ten will do that to you.’

  ‘Or not,’ Peter said with a cheeky grin.

  Jane laughed. ‘Or not.’

  ‘Anyway, you haven’t grown out of your looks. Age has not withered you.’ It was true. She had a different kind of beauty now, but it was no less compelling.

  ‘Says the man engaged to a twenty-six-year-old.’

  ‘We didn’t split up because I stopped fancying you,’ he reminded her.

  ‘No.’ She smiled bitterly. ‘We split up because you didn’t stop fancying everyone else.’

  Peter sighed. No good would come of picking at those old scabs. ‘I finished your book,’ he said, nodding to the iPad beside him.

  ‘Well?’ She raised an eyebrow, sitting up straighter, probably as glad to change the subject as he was.

  ‘I thought it was marvellous.’

  ‘Really?’ Her face lit up with delight.

  ‘Absolutely. Your best yet.’

  ‘You always say that,’ she said dismissively, but she still looked pleased.

  ‘What can I say? It’s always true. You get better and better. I don’t have a single note.’

  ‘Can you be my editor? Because I just got an email from Kate this morning, and she’s got pages and pages.’

  ‘Well, there was just one thing. It’s very minor, but—’

  He was interrupted by Jane’s mobile ringing.

  ‘Oh, hold that thought. Hello?’ She stood as she answered the phone, making an apologetic face at him.

  She went to the wooden walkway, and he watched her pacing back and forth as she talked on her phone. She returned after a few minutes, and plopped back down in the lounger next to him, tossing her phone on the table beside her.

  ‘That was Jonathan,’ she said. ‘They’re having a party on Saturday at their place and we’re all invited.’

  ‘That’s nice,’ Peter said. ‘I haven’t seen Jonathan and Sophie in ages.’

  ‘Philippe will be there too,’ Jane said. ‘He’s staying with them for the week.’

  ‘Oh God, really?’ Philippe – that idiot, Peter thought disgustedly. He’d always had the hots for Jane. And suddenly there it was – jealousy. He smiled, welcoming it back like an old friend even as it churned bitterly in his gut. It felt good. It felt like old times. He was almost grateful to Philippe.

  ‘I don’t know what you’ve got against Philippe,’ Jane said, but her smug smile told him she knew damn well.

  ‘Randy bugger! I don’t know if I can stand an evening with him oiling his way around like he’s God’s gift. Maybe we should skip it. We can have Jonathan and Sophie over after he’s gone.’

  Jane fixed him with a weary look. ‘Suit yourself,’ she said, ‘but I’m going.’

  She picked up her book and opened it, reclining back in her chair.

  ‘Yes, I suppose I’ll go too,’ Peter said. ‘Be rude not to.’

  27

  ‘You were right!’ Lesley said to Al as they removed their life vests. ‘That was brilliant!’

  He grinned at her, revealing his even white teeth, water dripping from his face and hair, and she couldn’t help thinking how handsome he was. If she fancied him at all, she’d be seriously lusting after him right now. Just as well she didn’t, because she’d be seriously tempted to throw down right here, and sex on the beach really wasn’t her thing.

  ‘Glad you enjoyed it.’

  Jet skiing had possibly been the best fun she’d ever had with her clothes on. She looked behind them at Stella and Rafe coming out of the water. They looked so perfect together. Stella was shaking out her long, blonde hair, laughing up into Rafe’s face. She’d been so happy and exhilarated out on the water, laughing as they ripped through the waves, her long hair flying out behind her as she clung onto Rafe. She and Lesley had shouted and whooped over the roar of the engines as they zipped past each other. It was the first time Lesley had seen Stella cut loose like that. There was something so buttoned-up and contained about her usually. But out there, she’d looked carefree and excited, and ... young, Lesley thought with a little pang of pity. It was like she was acting her age for once, and the change in her was remarkable.

  ‘Hungry?’ Al asked, breaking into her thoughts as they walked up the beach.

  ‘Starving!’ All that sea air and salt water had given her an appetite.

  When they had dried off and pulled on some clothes, they joined the others at the beach bar. Michael, Joy and Peter were already sitting at a long table set for ten, bottles of Perrier and rosé open in the centre. Jane was standing by the bar, talking on her phone as they passed.

  Rafe and Stella followed them shortly after.

  ‘Did you have fun, darling?’ Peter asked Stella as she took a seat beside him.

  ‘Yes, it was brilliant,’ she said, darting a shy smile at Rafe.

  Was Lesley imagining it, or was Rafe looking at Stella the way he used to look at Elizabeth Bennet when he was being Mr Darcy? His eyes had that soft, mushy look.

  ‘Where’s Scott?’ Peter asked.

  Rafe shrugged. ‘Who knows?’

  ‘Last we saw of him he was zipping off over the horizon with his new boyfriend,’ Lesley said.

  ‘Ah!’ Peter nodded. ‘He’ll probably be married before us,’ he said to Stella. ‘I hope you won’t mind being gazumped.’

  ‘You won’t believe who that was,’ Jane said, returning to her seat and tossing her mobile onto the table.

  ‘Don’t tell me,’ Peter said. ‘Philippe?’ He pronounced the name with an exaggerated French accent, imbuing it with such venom, Lesley almost laughed out loud.

  Jane rolled her eyes at him. ‘No. It was Conor O’Neill. He offered me a part.’

  ‘Good Lord!’ Michael said.

  Lesley and Al exchanged brief meaningful looks.

  ‘How odd!’ Peter reared back in surprise. ‘He knows you gave up acting ages ago.’

  ‘Yes, but ... he asked me if I’d consider doing this as a favour to him. He practically begged me, in fact.’ Lesley could tell she was flattered. Good old Conor, she thought.

  ‘Huh!’ Peter exclaimed. ‘What’s the part?’

  ‘Nell in Endgame. They’re doing it in Septe
mber. Lorcan’s directing.’

  ‘Endgame! Good Lord! We’re not that old, are we?’

  ‘Well, don’t expect to be offered Hamlet anytime soon.’

  ‘Did you tell him no?’

  ‘Conor? You know what he’s like. I said I’d think about it.’

  ‘Really?’

  She shrugged. ‘You try saying no to him.’ She gave a smug little smile as she poured herself a glass of rosé. ‘Because he’s asking you to play Nagg.’

  ‘Want me to do your back?’ Al asked, as Lesley creamed herself up for the afternoon.

  ‘Oh.’ Well, he was her boyfriend, after all. ‘Yes, please.’ She handed him the bottle of sunscreen and lay down on her stomach, flipping her hair to the side.

  ‘So, Conor’s come through, then,’ she murmured, closing her eyes as Al began massaging the sun cream into her skin. His hands felt good – warm and firm – and Lesley sighed deeply as they moved over her back. ‘Do you think Jane will go for it?’

  ‘She seemed pleased to be asked. And Conor can be very persuasive.’

  ‘I can see how he would be. Plus it’d give her an excuse to spend time with Peter.’

  She felt a little tingle of pleasure as Al’s hands moved over her waist and down to her lower back, and she had a sudden longing for them to go lower, to slip inside her bikini bottoms and—Gah! What was wrong with her? Al was just putting on her sun cream. It wasn’t foreplay. She had to remember this was a job. They were just pretending. ‘So who’s this Philippe?’ she asked, to distract herself.

  Al chuckled. ‘He’s a cousin of old friends of theirs. He’s always had the major hots for Jane.’

  ‘Oh, interesting.’ Lesley perked up. ‘I wondered what Peter’s problem was with him. He’s obviously jealous. That’s good.’

  ‘He’ll probably be at the Simpsons’ shindig.’ Jane had announced at lunch that they were all invited to a party on Saturday night.

  ‘Even better,’ she said. ‘Jane should flirt with him.’

  ‘I’m sure she will. There,’ he said, ‘all done.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Lesley said, turning over and resisting the urge to take off her bikini top and get him to do her boobs. She felt herself flush at the thought, and shoved her sunglasses back on.

  ‘Now you do me?’ Al asked, holding the bottle out to her.

  ‘Sure,’ she said, taking it from him. He lay down on his stomach, and she squeezed some cream into her hands and started rubbing it into his back, taking her time, allowing herself to luxuriate in the feel of his warm skin as her hands glided over the firm muscles of his back.

  ‘Al?’

  ‘Mmm?’

  ‘Did you see the way Rafe was looking at Stella at lunch?’

  ‘Yeah, he was laying it on pretty thick, wasn’t he?’

  ‘He said he wasn’t going to make a move on her, though.’

  ‘Did he?’

  ‘Well ...’ Lesley had the distinct impression that Rafe had said no, but now that she thought about it, she wasn’t so sure. ‘Are you sure he doesn’t fancy her for real?’ she asked as she worked down to the hollow of his lower back. ‘He looked pretty ... smitten.’

  ‘He’s just a good actor. Do you think Stella might be tempted?’

  ‘I don’t know. But he’s pretty irresistible, you have to admit. Especially when he goes full Darcy like that.’

  ‘Hmm,’ Al said. He didn’t sound too happy about it.

  ‘What? That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? If he can entice her away from Peter, all your troubles are over.’

  Nevertheless, Lesley couldn’t help feeling bad for Stella. She was starting to like her, and even if she was just marrying Peter for his money, it didn’t necessarily mean she had evil intentions. They knew nothing about her background. Maybe she’d grown up in poverty, and just wanted a comfortable life. And who could blame her if she was tempted by all this, she thought, looking around at the rows of golden, pampered bodies stretched out in the sun, while liveried waiters catered to their every whim. It was pretty damn seductive.

  As she worked down towards the top of Al’s shorts, she felt suddenly aware of how almost naked he was, and once it occurred to her, all she could think about was the fact that it would only take pulling those swim shorts down and he’d be completely naked. If he turned around she’d see his dick. She could touch it. She wondered what he looked like; what he’d be like in bed. He was good at everything – he’d probably be brilliant. As she stroked her hands slowly over his broad shoulders, she wondered was this making him hard, even a little bit.

  Gah! Get a grip, Lesley. What the hell was wrong with her? She had no interest in seeing Al’s dick. It was too long since she’d had a shag, that was all, and all this sun and sea air was making her horny.

  ‘There, done!’ she said, giving his back a firm, businesslike slap. She replaced the stopper on the bottle and went back to her own lounger, lay down and picked up her book.

  Later, back at the villa, when she was sure Al was otherwise occupied, she went to their room and called Romy.

  ‘I’ve been having … thoughts,’ she told her, after they’d chatted for a bit.

  ‘Thoughts?’

  ‘About Al. And his penis.’

  ‘Impure thoughts?’

  ‘I don’t think so. Just the fact that he has one, really.’

  ‘But you always knew that, right?’

  ‘Well, yes – in the back of my mind, I suppose. But it’s sort of … come to my attention and now I can’t stop thinking about it.’

  ‘Come to your attention how? Did he flash you?’

  ‘No! Nothing like that. But we were at the beach today, so I saw him in his togs, and I suddenly started thinking what it would be like to see him without his togs.’

  ‘Are these thoughts troubling you, my child?’

  ‘Well, it’s a bit disturbing. I mean, I don’t fancy Al, so it’s not as if I want to get with him. But it’s like – you know when you have a sexy dream about someone who you’ve never thought about like that before, and suddenly you start seeing them in a whole other way?’

  ‘Yeah. It doesn’t always work that way, though. I mean, I once had a sex dream about Mr Bean.’

  ‘Ew!’

  ‘I know. He still doesn’t do it for me. So do you want to see Al without his togs? Because you probably only have to ask.’

  ‘No, I don’t. I’m just horny, I guess.’

  ‘Well, why not take it out on Al? I’m sure he’d be happy to oblige. And you could do worse. You have done worse.’

  ‘I don’t know. I’m here to do a job. It’s better to keep it professional. Besides, I don’t think he’s into me in that way.’

  ‘He asked you out, didn’t he, the first time you met?’

  ‘Yeah, but ... he hasn’t made any move on me since. I guess he wasn’t that bothered.’

  ‘Back to DIY, then?’

  Lesley sighed. ‘I don’t even have my own room here because everyone thinks I’m shagging Al. So DIY is tricky.’

  ‘Well ... I don’t know what to suggest then. There’s always the shower?’

  ‘Yeah. I’ll just have lots of cold showers, I guess.’

  Romy laughed. ‘I meant you could do DIY when you’re alone in the bathroom.’

  ‘Oh, yeah.’ Lesley heaved a heartfelt sigh. ‘Well, it’s not my favourite, but I suppose I’ll just have to make do.’

  28

  ‘Are you ready?’ Stella asked Peter as she came out onto the terrace the following morning. ‘We’re leaving in a few minutes.’

  Peter snapped his book shut and looked up at her. She was wearing a red and white polka-dot dress, a matching scarf tied in her hair. Her slanting green eyes sparkled, and her skin was dewy and radiant. Everything about her seemed to vibrate with youth and vitality. He felt weary just looking at her.

  ‘I think I’m going to stay here,’ he said. ‘Laze by the pool and finish this.’ He indicated the fat tome he was reading.

  ‘Oh.�
� He saw the flash of disappointment in her face, but it was gone in a second, replaced by a placid smile. ‘I’ll stay too, then. Keep you company.’

  Peter sighed, dropping his head back against the padded cushion of his chair. ‘No, you should go – enjoy yourself. You’ll love Villefranche.’

  ‘But why don’t you want to come? Are you feeling okay?’ She frowned in concern.

  He tried to swallow his annoyance. She was just being thoughtful. ‘I’m fine,’ he said. ‘Just not in the mood. I’ve been to Villefranche. Bought the T-shirt, as they say. Don’t worry about me, I’m just being an old fart.’

  ‘Well, we could go together another time.’ She sank onto the seat beside him. ‘I’d rather see it with you anyway.’

  Irritation bubbled up inside him. ‘Oh, for God’s sake, go, and stop fussing over me!’

  Stella reared back, hurt etched on her face, and Peter felt a stab of remorse.

  ‘Sorry,’ he said gently, taking her hand. ‘I didn’t mean to snap. But I don’t need a nursemaid. I’m not an invalid.’

  She opened her mouth to say something, but shut it again.

  ‘That’s exactly what you are, Peter,’ Joy said, coming out through the patio doors and surprising them both.

  ‘Touché,’ Peter said softly, smiling at her.

  Joy looked from one to the other. ‘You two had better get a wiggle on,’ she said.

  ‘I—I’m not sure if I’m going to go,’ Stella said, twisting her hands and looking warily at Peter.

  ‘I’m sorry, darling,’ he said. ‘I shouldn’t have bitten your head off like that. But you go, have fun. I’m quite happy here on my own, honestly.’

  ‘You won’t be alone anyway,’ Joy said. ‘Michael and I are staying here too – he’s not feeling well, poor love. And Jane wants to get some work done on her edits.’

  ‘There,’ Peter said to Stella. ‘No need to worry about me. I’ll have plenty of company.’

  ‘Are you ready?’ Rafe asked them, coming through the patio doors, and rattling car keys impatiently.

  ‘I’m not coming,’ Peter said to him. ‘But this gorgeous girl is.’ He stood and pulled Stella up from her seat. ‘You’ll look after her for me, won’t you?’