She sat down beside Lesley.
‘Coffee?’ Lesley asked her.
‘Yes, please,’ Stella nodded, side-eyeing the plate of pastries as Lesley poured her a mug.
‘Have one,’ Scott said, pushing the plate towards her.
She shook her head. ‘I’ll just have this, thanks,’ she said, nodding at her bowl.
‘Go on,’ Scott urged with a grin. ‘Step away from the muesli. We won’t tell Dad.’
Stella smiled, tempted. ‘Well ...’
‘I’ll eat that for you, if it’d make you feel better,’ Scott said, holding out a hand for her bowl.
‘When in France,’ Lesley said beside her, handing her a small plate.
‘Okay, deal.’ Stella handed Scott her bowl and took a pain au chocolat from the plate. ‘Just this once.’ She tore it in two, smiling guiltily as she smudged her fingers with buttery grease, and crumbs of pastry flaked onto her plate. She popped a piece into her mouth, savouring the luxury of it. Sighing, she closed her eyes as melting chocolate and soft pastry mingled on her tongue. It was heaven.
She opened her eyes to find Rafe watching her, his gaze dark and intense. Their eyes locked and held for a moment before Stella looked away, staring down at her coffee.
‘You should eat chocolate more often,’ Rafe murmured. ‘It suits you.’
Her breath hitched as she looked up to find his eyes still on her. The air between them seemed to crackle with electricity, and she felt hot and flustered. Surely Rafe wasn’t actually flirting with her – right in front of everyone? She was engaged to his father, for God’s sake. She must be imagining it.
Nevertheless, maybe she shouldn’t have agreed to go hiking with them today. She’d been disconcerted yesterday when Peter said it was something the young people did, not sure where she stood, which group she belonged to. Now she wondered had she done the wrong thing, aligning herself with the younger generation, thus putting more distance between herself and Peter. She should have opted to stay with him, and establish her place by his side as his partner. But it was too late to back out now.
‘Put away your Mr Darcy look and leave Stella alone,’ Scott said, rolling his eyes at his brother. ‘You’re putting me off my breakfast.’
Stella was grateful to him for making a joke of it and breaking the tension.
‘Don’t mind him,’ Scott said to her. ‘He can’t help himself. Doesn’t even know he’s doing it half the time.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Rafe said stiffly. But he looked cross and uncomfortable, and Stella could swear he was blushing.
The intense panty-dropping look was gone in an instant, and Stella was relieved. It was just Rafe being Rafe, she told herself. Scott was right, flirting was simply a reflex with him. He was Peter’s son, after all; it was in his genes. It didn’t mean anything, but, try as she might, she couldn’t shake off that look in his eyes, or the way it had made her feel.
‘Is your new boyfriend coming with us?’ Lesley asked Scott.
‘No, unfortunately, he has to work. Those jet skis won’t sell themselves.’ He polished off the bowl of muesli and pushed it away.
Stella was relieved. At least it wouldn’t be all couples. She didn’t want to end up paired off with Rafe.
‘Come on and we’ll pack up the car,’ Rafe said to Scott as he stood. Al followed them, leaving Stella alone with Lesley.
‘Maybe I should stay here with Peter after all,’ she said, once they were alone.
‘No! You have to come,’ Lesley said. ‘Please! You can’t leave me alone with the guys.’
‘I don’t know ...’ She bit her lip. She’d feel bad about ditching Lesley, and she had been looking forward to the hike.
‘Don’t worry about Rafe, if that’s what it is. Like Scott said, it’s just the way he is. He can’t help himself.’
‘You’re right,’ Stella nodded. ‘I’m being silly.’
‘Anyway, we’re meeting up with friends of theirs, so there’ll be plenty of other women around for him to practise his charm on.’
‘True,’ Stella said. But somehow she didn’t feel as reassured as she should at the thought of Rafe flirting with other women. And that just made her feel more unnerved than ever.
Lesley sat beside Al in the front, as they wound around the twisty mountainous roads, climbing towards the hilltop village of Eze. The scenery was stunning as they drove along the coast, an endless vista of sun-dappled water and spiky green palm trees.
They found a space in the car park at the base of the village and stood in the sun, waiting for the others to arrive. Before long, a pale-yellow open-top car pulled up alongside them with a flurry of whooping and waving, and four people spilled out, engulfing Al and his cousins with enthusiastic hugs and back-slapping, while Stella and Lesley stood by and watched.
Al introduced them to everyone. Toby was floppy-haired and pretty, with the same sort of posh English accent as Al, and his sister Emma was a pale, long-limbed beauty with a mane of blonde curls, dark glasses perched on top of her head. Their friend Jill was petite, her short dark hair worn in a chic pixie cut that showed off her elfin features, and her boyfriend Luc was a wiry French-Moroccan with a shaved head.
Lesley had been a little insulted when Al had offered her a walking stick from the boot of the car, telling him she wasn’t a geriatric. But when she saw that the very cool Emma was using one, she changed her mind and took it, and she was very glad of it as they walked up a steep incline towards the village. Rafe was in front with Alex and Emma; Scott, Al and Stella a little behind them. She was bringing up the rear with Luc and Jill, and they chatted as they walked. Luc was in IT, and Jill was a graphic designer, and they lived as digital nomads, travelling the world in between bouts of living in France or England.
Jill was originally from London, as were Toby and Emma. Their families all owned properties in the area, and they had been spending summers in Nice since they were children. Jill had told her, ‘We’ve all known each other forever.’
It was a steep walk to the medieval village of Eze, but nothing like as difficult as Lesley had expected. She really didn’t see the need for hiking boots. Eze was impossibly pretty. Perched on a cliff overlooking the sea, it looked like something straight out of a fairy tale.
They came to a little cobbled square, a few tables dotted around on the terrace in front of a tiny café. Toby and Emma were talking to a couple sitting at one of the tables, and as they approached, the woman looked over and waved. Al raised a hand in greeting, and joined them. He bent to kiss the woman’s cheek, then shook hands with the man seated opposite her.
‘Oh,’ Jill said, stopping beside Lesley. ‘Shit! I didn’t know she was going to be here.’
‘Who?’ Lesley asked, squinting at the woman, who looked strangely familiar. She tried to figure out where she might have seen her before. Maybe she just reminded her of someone.
‘Cassie,’ Jill said. ‘Al’s ex?’
‘Fuck!’ Scott breathed, coming to a halt behind her.
‘Oh! I wondered why she looked familiar,’ Lesley said, almost to herself, as they started walking again.
‘Have you met her before?’ Scott asked, surprised.
‘No, but I’ve seen photos on Al’s Facebook.’
‘I wouldn’t worry about it,’ Jill said kindly.
‘Oh, I’m not,’ Lesley said quickly. ‘I just ... wasn’t expecting her to be here, that’s all.’ She wondered if Al had known she’d be here. If he’d been blindsided by it, he was doing a good job of hiding it, she thought, watching him chatting to the couple, his hand resting casually on the back of Cassie’s chair.
‘Yeah, her parents own a house in Cannes, and they come here around this time every year, same as the rest of us. She and Al first met over here. She was an old friend of Jean Claude’s.’ She nodded at the man sitting opposite Cassie.
‘Oh, right.’ Lesley tried to appear unfazed. But she felt very much out of the loop, and she didn’t like it.
Scott grinned at her. ‘Really, you don’t have to worry about Cassie,’ he whispered in her ear as they moved forward. ‘You’re much more Al’s type. Come on, I’ll introduce you.’
‘Cassie!’ Scott pulled Lesley forward as they surrounded her table. ‘This is Al’s girlfriend, Lesley. Lesley, this is Cassie, Al’s ex, and Jean-Claude, the guy she dumped him for.’
‘Hello, Lesley,’ Cassie said. ‘Lovely to meet you.’ She shielded her eyes and looked at Scott in amusement. ‘Scott, I see you’re still as big a shit-stirrer as ever.’
‘Just telling it like it is, darling.’ Scott grinned.
Al put an arm around Lesley’s shoulders and pulled her into his side, and she nestled closer, appreciating the gesture. She felt Cassie sizing her up us as they shook hands, and she did the same, pleased that Cassie wasn’t as intimidatingly stunning as she was in her Facebook photos – clearly a fan of filters, Lesley thought.
‘We didn’t know you were going to be here today,’ Scott said to Cassie. ‘You didn’t reply to the group WhatsApp.’
‘It was a last-minute decision,’ Cassie said. ‘It’s been so long since I’ve seen you all. I miss you.’ Her eyes flicked to Al and she gave a playful pout. Al didn’t respond, but Jean-Claude looked sulky anyway.
‘Right!’ Cassie slapped the table and stood. ‘Are we ready for this hike, then?’
‘Oh.’ Lesley looked to Al uncertainly. ‘Didn’t we just do it?’
‘The walk up from the car park?’ He laughed. ‘Hardly. This is just the starting point.’
‘Oh. Right.’ She tried not to look as dismayed as she felt as they all set off again up a winding path away from the village.
‘Last one up’s a rotten wanker!’ Cassie turned to shout at the rest of the group, before she and Jean-Claude took the lead, racing ahead like a pair of mountain goats.
‘First to the top gets to give me a blow job!’ Jean-Claude yelled, charging after her.
‘I think we already have a winner in the rotten wanker category,’ Scott said, rolling his eyes.
‘God, it’s not a competition, is it?’ Lesley huffed. Then she remembered what Al had told her about the man Cassie had cheated on him with – always first to the top. Poor Al – it must be hard on him seeing Jean-Claude and Cassie together like this.
‘Are you okay?’ she asked him, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze.
‘Yes, fine!’ He looked surprised by her show of solidarity.
She really didn’t want to give Jean-Claude a blow job, but she felt the least she could do was make sure Al got to the top first.
‘Come on, let’s beat them to it,’ she said, tugging on his hand.
‘Don’t pay any attention to them. It’s not a race.’
‘I’d still like to win. Come on – I’ve got a second wind. Quick before we lose them.’
Half an hour later, Lesley was red in the face, panting and dripping with sweat. She’d have killed for a sit down and a cold drink, but instead she staggered on after Al until her chest was bursting and her throat aching with the effort. The sun was beating down and her clothes were stuck to her. They’d raced ahead and passed out all the others, even leaving Cassie and Jean-Claude behind in their wake, but the initial sprint had taken too much out of her. She hated giving up, but she had to stop or pass out.
‘I just ... have to ... stop ... for ... a minute,’ she panted to Al’s back, barely managing to get the words out. He’d strode ahead and hadn’t noticed her slowing.
‘Oh.’ He turned and walked back to her. ‘Are you okay?’
Lesley nodded as she didn’t have any more breath to speak. She took a long slug from her bottle of water. ‘Just need a little breather.’
‘Are you sure?’ Al frowned at her in concern. She dreaded to think how she must look. ‘We don’t have to do this, you know. It’s not a race, despite what Jean-Claude might think.’
‘No. I want to,’ Lesley said, dragging air into her lungs. She didn’t want to let Al down in front of his ex. He might not be real, but he was the nicest boyfriend she’d ever had, and she felt she owed it to him. She’d make it to the top before that pair of cheating sleazebags if it was the last thing she did – and it could well be. ‘Come on,’ she said determinedly, glancing down the hill. Cassie and Jean-Claude were catching up, Stella and Rafe close behind them.
Determined to stay ahead of them, she pressed on, but after another ten minutes, she had to admit defeat. She’d done her best, but it was no use. She couldn’t go another step without collapsing – and that wouldn’t impress anyone. She stopped, sinking down onto a large rock, her legs buckling beneath her.
‘Are you okay?’ Al looked down at her, frowning in concern.
‘I can’t go any further, Al. Sorry.’
‘It’s fine.’ He sat down beside her and smiled.
‘You go ahead,’ she said, waving at the path. ‘I’m just slowing you down.’
‘No way. If you’re staying here, so am I. No one gets left behind.’
‘You and your bloody boy scout code of honour.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Stop being noble, and save yourself! You can still be first to the top.’
He shook his head. ‘No. I’m not leaving you here.’
‘Sorry,’ she said, feeling pathetic. ‘But thanks for being so nice about it.’
‘It’s fine. I didn’t really fancy giving Jean-Claude a blow job anyway.’
Lesley giggled. Then she had an idea. ‘We wouldn’t look like losers if we just stopped because we had better things to do.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘If we were overcome with lust, for instance, and we just had to throw down here because we couldn’t keep our hands off each other.’
Al looked at her closely. ‘It could happen.’
‘They may be the first to the top, but they’d still wish they were us.’
Al’s gaze dropped to her mouth. ‘But we’d have to—’
Lesley shrugged. ‘I’m game if you are. It wouldn’t be so bad, would it? I’m a very good kisser, you know.’
‘So am I.’ Al grinned.
‘Okay, quick,’ Lesley said, grabbing Al as Cassie’s booming voice could be heard getting closer. ‘Kiss me!’ She shifted off the rock onto the grass and pulled him down beside her as she pressed her lips to his. Al lay half on top of her, his mouth warm and soft on hers. Heat washed over her as she curled her hand into the short hair at the nape of his neck, the smell of warm grass mingling with the clean, soapy smell of Al’s skin. She moaned loudly as she heard footsteps approaching, just in case Cassie wouldn’t spot them. But in reality there was nothing moan-worthy about the way Al was kissing her. Maybe he was off his game because he was thrown by seeing Cassie. Or perhaps he was holding back because he didn’t want to take advantage of the situation, so he didn’t open his mouth, or try to slip her the tongue. He was keeping it professional, which on the whole she appreciated – especially in light of her recent horniness. She lifted her top as she heard the others approach. ‘Stick your hand up my shirt,’ she hissed at Al, aware of Cassie and Jean-Claude approaching in her peripheral vision.
He frowned and shook his head.
‘Just do it!’ When he hesitated, she grabbed his hand and moved it under her T shirt herself. She was very aware of her damp skin and the rivulet of sweat between her breasts, but it was all for a good cause. His hand felt warm, barely touching her skin as it hovered uncertainly over her stomach and curled around her waist, carefully avoiding going anywhere near her breasts. ‘Oh Al,’ she moaned for effect.
She heard Cassie’s disgusted tut when she saw them, muttering something about acting like teenagers as she passed, and she clamped Al’s hand to her and continued kissing him until the footsteps had faded into the distance. She released her hand then, but he didn’t move his, and carried on kissing her.
‘Um ... Al.’ She pushed him away gently. ‘They’re gone.’
‘Oh.’ He lifted himself off her, bli
nking dazedly, as if waking up. ‘So they have. Sorry.’
‘Jeez, get a room, you two!’ She heard Scott’s laugh, and looked up to see him and Stella looking down at them. ‘Come on,’ he said to Stella, grabbing her hand. ‘We’re beating them to the top. I’m after that blow job from Van Damme.’
Al sat up as Stella’s giggle faded into the distance, resting his elbows on his knees. Lesley was interested to see that now he was the one out of breath.
He turned to her as she sat up beside him. ‘Well, that was ... nice.’ He smiled at her, his eyes crinkling, and she thought what a lovely warm smile he had.
‘Yeah, it was.’ She ran her hand idly over the grass. ‘It was lovely.’
They sat in silence for a few minutes, both looking out over the view.
‘So,’ Lesley said finally, brushing blades of grass from her hands, ‘should we go on to the top?’
Al shook his head. ‘Let’s just stay here for a while.’ He looked at her questioningly. ‘Enjoy the view.’
‘Fine by me,’ she said happily, relieved she wouldn’t have to go any further. ‘Plus that way we avoid being rotten wankers.’
30
‘So, what are we doing today?’ Adam asked, eyeballing Lesley in the mirror as he raked his fingers through her hair.
‘Just a trim, I think.’ It was the day of the Simpsons’ party, and Lesley thought it would be a good excuse to get her hair done at the same time as quizzing Adam – kill two birds with one stone.
‘Really?’ Adam looked disappointed. ‘You wouldn’t like to go for something a bit different?’
‘Well ... maybe.’ She didn’t want to get too much off, but a quick trim wouldn’t give her much time for grilling Adam. ‘What would you suggest?’
‘A different parting maybe? It’s a bit old-fashioned.’ Adam played around with Lesley’s hair, parting it on one side, then the other, looking at it thoughtfully in the mirror each time, his head tilted to one side. ‘I think it’s best parted this way,’ he said, sweeping Lesley’s hair to the right. ‘It suits the shape of your face better.’ He looked at Lesley in the mirror, his eyebrows raised questioningly.
For Love or Money: A laugh out loud, heartwarming romantic comedy Page 21