by Sandie Jones
‘No,’ he says, going back into the bathroom.
‘I was thinking . . .’ she starts, without knowing where she’s going.
‘That sounds dangerous,’ says Jack, laughing.
‘Why don’t we try and track Rick down?’
‘Rick?’ he calls out, as if it’s the first time he’s ever heard the name.
Rachel gives him a moment to see if he catches on. He doesn’t.
‘Who’s Rick?’ he asks, poking his head around the doorframe.
How can he not know? ‘The guy who you think Ali had an affair with,’ says Rachel, trying hard to hide her exasperation and growing sense of unease.
‘Oh him,’ he exclaims theatrically. ‘I wouldn’t even know where to begin.’
‘Well, maybe you should challenge her on it then.’
He makes a funny noise. ‘And what difference is that going to make? It is what it is. She can’t undo it and pretend it never happened.’
‘No, but perhaps she’ll deny it.’
‘Oh, she’ll definitely do that!’ He laughs bitterly.
‘But she might be telling the truth,’ says Rachel. ‘It might have just been wishful thinking on Rick’s part. A bit of office banter between the lads.’
‘I don’t think so,’ says Jack. ‘I know Rick well and he’s a pretty sound guy. He’d have no reason to lie about something like that.’
‘You know him well, yet you don’t know how to contact him?’ asks Rachel, unable to help herself.
Jack comes towards her and picks up her hands, which have been hanging limply by her side. ‘I shouldn’t have told you,’ he says, looking at her intently. ‘It wasn’t fair to land this on you so close to the wedding. But you pushed me.’
‘No, I didn’t,’ says Rachel. ‘Paige did.’
‘Well, whoever it was, I shouldn’t have aired my grievances. But hey, it’s out there and now you understand why I don’t want to be within three feet of the woman.’
Except you just were, Rachel wants to shout. Right here in this room.
She goes to the door and stares out across the mezzanine that overlooks the living room below. Opposite, towards the stairs, is Paige and Noah’s room, but as much as she looks, desperate for there to be another door, to give Ali a reason to be up here, there’s nothing.
Maybe it had been a trick of the light. Perhaps the sun had bounced off the polished concrete walls in such a way that it had created the illusion of someone rushing from one side of the mezzanine to the other. Perhaps Ali is still in her room . . . or out on a walk . . . not even wearing orange.
‘I’d better go and help the others,’ she calls out, sticking her head around their bedroom door.
It’s then that she sees it; the tiniest dot sparkling in the sun, on the floor, right outside the bathroom. She goes to it and picks it up, examining the perfectly cut diamond. It’s only on closer inspection that she sees a tiny hole in the top, as if, until recently, it was a sewn-on embellishment.
She doesn’t own anything quite so blingy, so pops it in her pocket and heads back to the kitchen, the whole time telling herself, convincing herself, that she couldn’t have seen what she thought she’d seen. It was a moment in time – it could have been anything.
Rachel has almost talked herself into believing it by the time she reaches the kitchen.
‘Jeez, that dress is gorgeous!’ Will whistles through his teeth as he picks Ali up and kisses her. ‘Is it new?’
Rachel doesn’t want to look, but her brain already knows what’s there and is battling to backtrack against itself; as if trying to convince her that what she knows is there, isn’t, and what she knows she saw, she didn’t.
‘It’s a kaftan,’ says Ali, her eyes like saucers as she looks at Will. ‘And yes, I bought it in Selfridges last week.’
‘Not many people can get away with that colour,’ says Paige, leaving the words hanging there, so nobody’s quite sure whether it’s an insult or a backhanded compliment.
‘Thanks,’ gushes Ali, opting to go with the latter.
‘Most women end up looking like an escaped convict,’ Paige goes on, hammering the point home even further.
‘It’s always been my favourite colour,’ Ali enthuses. ‘I would have worn an orange wedding dress if I could.’
And just like that, Rachel knows that she can no longer pretend to see what she wants to see. She’d wanted to allow her eyes to trick her into believing that Ali’s dress, or kaftan, is a shade of pink, or even red. She would let her eyes convince her it was green if it meant that it didn’t match the flash of orange that she saw leaving her and Jack’s room just now. But more than that, she wishes that the diamantés hanging off it weren’t the very same as the one that’s in her pocket.
5
‘Ah, here he is!’ says Will, as Jack walks out onto the terrace where they’re all sitting around a table laden with Mediterranean fare. Sliced salami, serrano ham, French cheese and olives are laid on platters. Ironically, the only Portuguese produce is the sardine paste that Will has lined up in the tiny foil pots it comes in, alongside great hunks of freshly baked bread.
‘Good morning,’ coos Ali. ‘Or should I say, good afternoon.’
Jack ruffles his still-wet hair. ‘Just in time for a hair-of-the-dog,’ he says, looking past her to Will.
‘No alcohol until after we’ve been in the water,’ says Will, smiling and holding up a can of Diet Coke.
Jack groans like a child who’s been told he can’t have an ice-cream until after dinner.
‘How you feeling?’ asks Noah, pouring a puddle of olive oil onto his plate. ‘You were putting in some serious dance moves last night.’
Rachel smiles as she pictures Jack twirling her around, the pair of them lost in the moment. But then she remembers what she’s just seen and is hit by a sudden image of his head between Ali’s legs.
The very thought of it makes her take a sudden intake of breath and she gasps, and everyone’s heads turn towards her.
‘You okay?’ asks Ali.
Rachel can’t look at her for fear of seeing her lying on their bed, with her eyes closed and her hands on the back of Jack’s head.
‘Fine,’ she says tightly, picking up her glass of water.
‘Well, this looks amazing,’ says Jack, blithely unaware of the all-too-vivid images flashing in front of Rachel’s eyes.
‘Don’t eat too much,’ says Will.
‘Blimey, you sound like Mum when we were kids. “Wait for your food to go down before you get back in that water,”’ Jack mimics in a high-pitched voice.
‘You just don’t want to be going in after you’ve eaten a big meal,’ says Will.
‘Isn’t that a myth?’ asks Noah to no one in particular. ‘Am I honestly going to drown if I eat all that bread?’
‘You’ll have to be quick,’ says Paige, nodding her head in the direction of Ali’s full plate.
‘Hey, don’t knock a girl for her appetite,’ says Ali, with an edge.
‘All power to you,’ says Paige, retrieving an olive stone from her mouth. ‘I just don’t know where you put it.’
Ali smiles sweetly. ‘I guess I’m one of the lucky ones,’ she says.
‘So, you can eat whatever you like and don’t ever put on an ounce?’ asks Paige incredulously.
Ali nods. ‘Pretty much.’
‘But you must exercise, surely?’
‘When I feel like it,’ says Ali, laughing. ‘Which isn’t very often.’
‘Oh, to be born with a body like this,’ says Will, giving Ali’s pert behind a squeeze.
Ali smiles awkwardly, pretending to be embarrassed.
‘Well, I can assure you that I will need to hit the tarmac at some point,’ says Paige. ‘Especially after all this.’
‘Did you even bring your trainers?’ asks Noah, sounding surprised.
‘Of course I did,’ says Paige, as if affronted by his lack of faith in her commitment to exercise. ‘Did you?’ She’s looking at Ra
chel. ‘We could go for a run together if you like?’
In her mind’s eye Rachel can see her trusted Nikes sitting forlornly on their bedroom floor at home, having been booted out of the suitcase, in favour of her hairdryer.
‘Are you honestly going to need them?’ Jack had asked, as she’d decided on which to sacrifice.
‘I’m going for a run at some point,’ he says now.
‘You brought your running shoes?’ asks Rachel, unable to hide her surprise. ‘I thought we didn’t have enough room.’
‘I substituted my boat shoes,’ he says. ‘I didn’t see that I’d need them, and I think I made the right call, because, after all the eating and drinking we’re going to be doing, I’m going to have to do something.’
‘I might join you then,’ says Paige. ‘Though, I’m not sure I’ll be able to match your pace. You’d be best to go out and do three circuits before I join you on the last.’ She laughs. ‘Hopefully you’ll be knackered enough by then for me to keep up with you.’
Jack smiles. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll take it slow.’
‘I’ll come with you,’ blurts out Ali.
It’s such a sudden outburst that the whole table turns to look at her. ‘I need to make sure I can still fit into my dress.’
‘I don’t know when I’ll go,’ says Jack tersely. ‘It might be tomorrow morning.’
‘Fine,’ says Ali. ‘I’ll come with you then.’
‘I’m sure our yoga session will dispense with any unwanted calories,’ says Rachel, not knowing whether she’s trying to protect Jack or warn Ali off.
‘True enough,’ says Ali. ‘But there’s nothing like a run to get your blood pumping to all the right places, is there?’
Rachel wishes she’d imagined it, but for a split second Jack and Ali lock eyes, as if in that moment, they’re the only two people there.
‘I wouldn’t exactly call my husband a natural, would you?’ Paige laughs as they watch Will taking Jack and Noah through the basics on static surfboards down on the shoreline. ‘He looks like he’s doing a difficult poo.’
Rachel looks on with affection as Noah crouches on bent knees, his expression vexed with concentration. ‘Let’s not write him off just yet,’ she says. ‘If I remember rightly, he was a pretty good water-skier back in the day.’
‘Really?’ says Paige, as if she doubts it very much.
Rachel wishes she’d kept her memories to herself, as they only serve to remind Paige that Rachel and Noah shared a life before her, and that perhaps she doesn’t know her husband quite as well as she thinks she does.
Despite herself, Rachel pictures Noah laying her down gently on a bed, his eyes staring intently into hers and wonders if Paige isn’t wrong.
‘Are you sure we should be doing this?’ Noah had asked, in between kissing Rachel’s neck.
Yes. No. Yes. No, had resounded on a loop in Rachel’s head as she battled with her trepidation and conscience. Why, in the four years they’d known each other, had they chosen that night to cross the line from friendship to something more?
He was going on a year-long trip to Asia the following morning and all they were supposed to do was go out, get drunk and send him off in style. So, how come they were back at her flat about to have sex?
‘Come with me,’ he’d said.
‘Don’t do this,’ she’d pleaded. ‘The decision’s made.’
‘But we’ve been planning this for months – this was our dream.’
‘I know,’ said Rachel. ‘And I’m sorry for letting you down, but it just doesn’t feel right for me to go anymore. Not now that Jack . . .’
Noah had stroked her hair from her face. ‘But you’ve only just met him. Are you honestly going to put all your plans on hold for a guy you’ve only known for a couple of months?’
‘I don’t know what’s going to happen,’ she’d said. ‘Who does? But I just know that right now, I don’t want to go halfway around the world and risk never seeing him again.’
‘And what about us?’ he’d said, lifting himself off to study her.
She’d pulled herself up onto her elbows. ‘What about us?’ she’d said. ‘You’ve had four years to work on that, but you chose to sleep with pretty much every fresher who’s come onto campus instead.’
‘Are you saying you’ve wanted more, before now?’ he asked incredulously.
How had he not noticed? She’d obviously become too adept at hiding her true feelings, and now he was finally reciprocating them, she didn’t feel fully able to. It’s what they called Sod’s Law.
She’d shaken her head in answer. It seemed easier to lie.
‘Why don’t you just come with me to Thailand?’ he pleaded. ‘Just to give us a chance of seeing where this might go.’
She’d laughed. ‘And if it doesn’t work?’
His hand had trailed between her breasts with a feather-light touch and down her flat stomach.
‘I would have lost you and Jack.’
‘But this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, Rach. This is never going to come around again. Before you know it, we’ll be chained to a desk and married with kids.’
‘We’re twenty-two,’ she said, arching her back as she felt his fingers. ‘We’ve got all the time in the world.’
Perhaps if she’d known then what she knows now, she’d think again, because all of a sudden, time isn’t so infinite. It does run out, for all of us. Days run into weeks, and months run into years, and we find that the twenty-year-old we thought we’d always be was lost decades ago.
‘Here they go,’ says Ali, as she lowers herself slowly into a side split on her yoga mat. She demonstrates her suppleness even further by pushing her head forwards so that the peak of her baseball cap touches her knee.
Rachel doesn’t know whether she should watch her, or the men, as they run into the sea with their surfboards under their arms. Will deftly jumps up and straddles the board as soon as he’s past the breaking waves, whilst Jack and Noah struggle to untangle themselves from the leash that attaches their ankles to theirs.
‘Oh my God, it’s Dumb and Dumber!’ Paige laughs, as Noah manages to get himself up onto it, only to fall straight off the other side, whilst Jack’s lying down on his, paddling furiously but going nowhere.
‘They call that the dick dragger,’ says Ali, laughing. ‘He’s going to feel that later on.’
There’s a tightening in Rachel’s chest as she watches the three of them move further towards the monstrous waves.
‘He’s not going to take them all the way out, is he?’ she asks no one in particular.
‘Don’t worry,’ says Ali. ‘The waves look bigger than they actually are.’
Rachel would imagine that the reverse is true when you’re out there and there’s one looming large over you.
‘Will knows what he’s doing,’ says Ali, as a dark-haired man, with a moustache and a body to die for, approaches them.
‘You iz Ali?’ he says in broken English.
‘Yes,’ she says without getting up from the splits. ‘You must be Ramiro.’
She throws a glance at Rachel and raises her eyebrows, as if to say, ‘Surprise!’
Rachel groans inwardly. Having to do a downward dog on a busy beach is surprise enough, without being told to contract your pelvic floor by an Antonio Banderas lookalike.
They laugh, though, as he manhandles them all into the bridge position and then instructs them to ‘Frust, frust, frust,’ as fast as they can.
By the time he asks them to adopt the lotus pose, Rachel suspects he’s actually a comedy act rather than a yoga teacher, and keeps one eye open, on the lookout for what he’s going to come up with next.
Her heart lurches as a wave starts building out at sea, rolling and rolling towards a line of surfers straddling their boards.
Her instinct is to shout, ‘It’s behind you’, but they know it’s coming – in fact, that’s exactly what they’re waiting for. She wonders for the umpteenth time what would possess anybody to
want to do that.
She squints to see if she can pick any of the boys out of the line-up, but in their dark wetsuits they all look the same; like sharks rising up out of the depths. Then she catches a flash of fluorescent green, the topside of Will’s surfboard, and sees him frantically waving his arms above his head. She stops breathing as her eyes follow his call to see Jack and Noah floating aimlessly into the path of the rising swell.
She gets to her feet, for all it will do, as the crest of the wave starts curling over onto itself. It’s like watching in slow motion as the white water comes crashing down, taking everything in its path with it. A few brave or stupid surfers ride it in, but it gobbles Noah and Jack up and all that Rachel can see are the bright tips of their boards going over and over as if they’re in a washing machine.
‘No!’ she shrieks, running to the water’s edge.
It’s as if the cycle will never stop spinning, for as quickly as her eyes catch sight of one of them, the other disappears. She imagines them trying to come up for air, but having it snatched away from them as the current whips them back under.
Will is frantically paddling towards them, yelling something that Rachel can’t hear over the deafening roar of the next wave crashing onto itself.
A head finally pops up through the foam, but it’s impossible to tell who it is. And in that moment, Rachel realizes that it really doesn’t matter, as she feels the same intensity of fear for whoever’s yet to surface.
‘Is that Noah?’ screeches Paige, holding a hand to her forehead.
‘I . . . I . . .’ stutters Rachel, rendered speechless.
‘Fuck!’ says Ali, as Will pulls a deadweight body onto his board.
Rachel’s legs wobble beneath her as she attempts to run along the shoreline to where they’re coming back in. Other surfers are selflessly making their way towards Will, all of them no doubt aware of the next swell that’s building behind them.
‘Jesus Christ,’ says Paige. ‘They need to get out of there.’
The lifeguard, who Rachel hadn’t even noticed before, jumps down from his white-painted tower and tears off his yellow sweatshirt as he races into the sea.