The Secret Cove in Croatia

by Julie Caplin

  ‘I’m not looking at your size, love. You are perfectly proportioned. Those shoulders, seriously, they are to die for. Hip-shoulder ratio is just divine and you have a waist and boobs.’

  ‘Next you’ll be telling me I could be a model,’ replied Maddie with withering, embarrassed sarcasm.

  Siri cackled. ‘No. They make those sample clothes ridiculously small … keeps costs down, they don’t use as much fabric. That’s why teeny-weeny bundles of bones like Tara and Cory are models. But no one would think they have gorgeous figures. Too bony, no curves and more like boys.’

  ‘Men seem to like them.’

  ‘Yeah, that bit I’ve never figured out. Pretty faces but not a lot up top.’ She gave Maddie’s body another assessing look, which left Maddie desperate to put her T-shirt back on.

  ‘You could look amazing, you know.’

  ‘Yeah, with a million pound budget, I’m sure.’

  ‘Hello, do you know who you’re talking to? When the Oscar nominations are announced, my phone rings off the hook 24/7 for a week. It’s not about the budget, I’ve got skills.’

  ‘Wow.’

  ‘Yeah, the A-listers have me on speed-dial. Why do you think Cory and Tara lay off their shit when they’re talking to me?’

  ‘I had noticed.’ Maddie grinned. ‘I thought you were the mob or something.’

  ‘Or something in the fashion world.’ Her answering smile was positively evil. ‘But I’m also bloody good. Under these clothes I’m a dumpy little pear shape. You know Esther Macmillan?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Up-and-coming rapper, with the shortest legs and biggest thighs you’ve ever seen. And so self-conscious about them, poor chick. Sweetest girl. By the time I’d finished with her, in her last photoshoot you’d never know.’

  Maddie nodded not knowing what the heck to say.

  ‘You need style advice, which is where I come in.’

  Maddie felt herself weakening, having always been a bit clueless about clothes. On the odd occasions when she had tried, she’d ended up getting it so badly wrong she’d stopped bothering. Having lived in Paris for a while, where French women made being perfectly dressed an absolute art form, it had reinforced her own sense of inferiority. How nice would it be to feel confident in the way she looked for once?

  ‘Your cabin, now.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I’m going to go through your wardrobe. I’ve been itching to sort you out.’

  Reality stepped in and gave Maddie a sharp kick up the backside. Come on, she wasn’t Cinderella and Siri was not her fairy godmother, not with that sharp tongue. ‘That’s a kind offer, but you people forget that I’m working.’ Besides, she was well acquainted with the phrase, You can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear.

  Siri raised an eyebrow, amused rather than insulted. ‘It’s more than kind; it’s very generous. In the States I can charge a thousand bucks a half day for personal styling. Now, get a move on before the others come back.’

  Chapter 15

  ‘Would anyone like anything else to eat?’ asked Maddie.

  ‘No,’ said Douglas a little bit too quickly.

  ‘Actually, yes,’ said Siri with a defiant lift of her head, knocking back the last of her white wine. She’d been drinking heavily throughout dinner. ‘I’d like some cheese, please. And another glass of wine.’

  ‘Cheese, please, Louise,’ said Simon.

  ‘I think we ought to get going, don’t you?’ said Douglas.

  ‘What happened to keep them waiting until half ten?’ asked Siri, her eyes flashing.

  Douglas shoulders drooped. ‘I … They …’

  ‘They’re a pair of spoilt bitches who did what they wanted to and now they can take the consequences. I really am sick of you pussyfooting around Cory all the time. You’re worth ten of her.’

  ‘And I’m sick of you slagging off my choices all the time. I love her and if she makes me happy what’s that got to do with you?’

  ‘But she doesn’t make you happy.’

  ‘She does.’

  ‘Rubbish.’ Siri’s heated tones carried on the still night air. ‘When was the last time you were at a party and you could let her out of your sight, confident that she wouldn’t be chatting someone else up? Not watching her batting her eyelashes at some film producer or casting director?’ There was a brief pause, almost as if she were balanced on the edge of the precipice, the split second before she went beyond the point of no return. ‘Can you even be sure she’s not slept with some of them?’ she asked and then, like a car slamming on the brakes, she pulled up, her face suddenly ashen, realising what she’d said.

  Douglas’s head reared back as if she’d hit him, which Maddie thought she might as well have done.

  ‘Sorry,’ Siri gasped. ‘Sorry, Douglas. I shouldn’t have said that.’

  ‘No,’ said Douglas, getting up from the table, throwing down his napkin, ‘you shouldn’t.’ He walked with slow defeat through to the lounge area, where Ivan sat in the cockpit chair. ‘We’ll leave straight after dinner, as soon as Maddie has cleared the table.’ He walked out of the door at the front of the lounge out onto the bow.

  Siri immediately burst into tears. ‘I … I didn’t mean to say that.’

  ‘Well, you did,’ said Simon. ‘And it wasn’t well done at all.’

  ‘I … I know. It just makes me so mad. The way she treats him. And now I’ve really upset him.’ She clutched at her stomach, chewing at her lip.

  ‘All you can do is apologise,’ said Nick calmly. ‘It will blow over. Sometimes what those closest to us say hurts the most. They feel they can be more brutally honest because it’s a reflection of how much they care for us.’

  When the launch pulled into the harbour area at ten-thirty that evening, Tara and Cory were perched on their cabin bags like a pair of disconsolate parrots.

  Hvar twinkled in the darkness, the lights reflected in the harbour with a dramatic floodlit fort dominating the skyline of the town. Interesting-looking buildings in the now familiar white stone lined the big harbour, although, as Ivan had said, there was very little mooring for larger boats. Instead a central area was rammed with lots of motorboats, reminding Maddie of a car park on the last Saturday before Christmas, but Ivan guided the launch over to a less crowded area on the far side of the harbour near a little park area with palm trees and benches.

  ‘Where have you been?’ wailed Cory. ‘We’ve been waiting for hours. And we didn’t have any money because nowhere takes cards. Everything is in cash.’

  This was something that Maddie had noted in Bol, although it explained why there were so many ATMs everywhere.

  ‘Sorry,’ said Douglas with determined cheerfulness, hopping out of the launch onto the side, ‘but we’re here now. Who’s for a drink?’

  The atmosphere in the launch coming over had been a touch tense, to say the least.

  ‘I fancy a cocktail,’ said Siri in response, all breezy and isn’t-this-fun, although Maddie could sense the slight hint of strain in her voice as she desperately tried to act as if everything was normal.

  ‘A nice cold beer would be great,’ said Nick with further fake encouragement.

  To Maddie’s mind they sounded hammy and insincere.

  ‘A drink,’ cried Cory, looking horrified and exchanging a look with Tara. ‘But we’ve been waiting for you all day. We’re exhausted.’

  ‘I just want to go to bed,’ said Tara wistfully, turning her big luminous eyes Nick’s way. She straightened, pushing her glorious hair over her shoulder, and rushed up to him, flinging herself at him. ‘Oh, Nicky darling, I’ve missed you.’

  Nick pulled away, putting a little distance between them, and Tara’s face fell for a brief second, before she looked at him. Slightly in awe, Maddie watched as Tara turned huge brown beseeching eyes on Nick, her mouth quivering, and wait, was there an added sheen of tears?

  ‘I know, I’ve been very naughty.’ She wound her graceful arms around him. ‘I should have
told you, but Cory was determined to come and I couldn’t let her come all by herself.’

  ‘And what – you couldn’t text or phone?’ Nick lifted his eyebrows.

  ‘My battery ran out, and I knew you’d be cross.’ The little girl coy smile coupled with the studied gesture when she smoothed his hair away from his forehead made Maddie feel a little sick. She’d never seen such a pathetic non-apology. In fact she hadn’t even used the ‘s’ word.

  ‘It was a dreadfully naughty thing to do; I shouldn’t have done it.’ She looked beyond him. ‘Where’s the boat?’

  ‘Apparently mooring is in short supply here, so we’re anchored in one of the bays a little way out.’ Nick’s voice was still stiff but Tara seemed not to notice or was ignoring it. Maddie suspected the latter.

  ‘Oh, that’s a bit rubbish. It would have been fun to be over there.’ She pointed to the busy promenade on the other side of the harbour. ‘There are lots of big boats over on the other side. Honestly, you should see them. People drinking Cristal. Partying all day. It’s just like St Tropez.’

  ‘That, Tara darling, is your own fault,’ said Simon. ‘If you and Cory hadn’t jumped the gun, we’d have moored up later in the week when we’ve got a slot.’

  ‘Well, it was all a waste of time because, apparently, William Randall isn’t even here yet and me and Cory have had the most boring day. And the water taxi cost us a fortune to get here.’

  ‘Serves you right,’ said Siri, ruthless as ever, although she shot Douglas a quick wary glance. ‘Now, let’s find somewhere to drink. Maddie and Ivan are coming with us.’

  Cory’s eyes shifted and she frowned, opening her mouth as if she might be about to say something.

  ‘Yes,’ agreed Douglas, looking round at everyone but Siri. ‘Buying Ivan a drink is the least I can do after messing up his schedule.’

  Cory shut her mouth with the quick snap of a Venus flytrap.

  Ivan smiled, all charm again. ‘It is no problem.’ Maddie kept her face in the shadow. Not what he’d said at nine o’clock this morning. ‘I know a very nice bar. Follow me.’

  To the left of the harbour area there was a large stone-flagged piazza full of restaurants, their outdoor tables packed with people sitting enjoying the balmy evening air. At the far end of the square, more floodlights illuminated a beautiful five-storeyed bell tower adjoining a gable-fronted church. Hvar, Maddie decided, was very pretty.

  They passed several little steep narrow alleyways where the tall stone buildings crowded each other and walked along white flagstones, so polished by years of footsteps that they were slippery underfoot. Plenty of smart and trendy bars and restaurants, along with interesting-looking boutiques, lined the narrow streets.

  ‘Gosh, this place is lovely,’ said Siri, falling into step next to Maddie. Despite her words, her tone sounded forced, as if she were trying to sound enthusiastic. ‘And so different from Bol.’

  ‘It’s certainly much busier,’ observed Maddie.

  ‘And much smarter,’ said Simon, touching Maddie. ‘I think I’m going to like Hvar a lot.’

  ‘And you’re looking rather lovely this evening,’ he whispered in her ear as Siri stopped to look at some jewellery in one of the windows.

  ‘Thank you,’ said Maddie, blushing, grateful for the loan of Siri’s dress.

  Siri had been quite ruthless in her assessment of Maddie’s wardrobe and had confiscated quite a few items, including the Breton T-shirt and red trousers which she’d thought were so natty. As consolation, she’d pressed a couple of dresses upon Maddie, insisting that dresses were her new best friends.

  This white shift dress was far shorter than she would normally have worn but as soon as she’d put it on she’d fallen in love with it, unable to believe her reflection in the mirror. Who was that tall, almost elegant woman? Even Nick had given her a look of admiration when she’d climbed into the launch at Douglas’s clumsy compliment of, ‘Gosh, don’t you scrub up well?’ Which had mercifully raised a laugh from all, scotched any feelings of being self-conscious and helped to defuse some of the tension in the air, although Douglas and Siri refused to even look at each other.

  ‘A shame we can’t ditch everyone,’ he said, glancing around.

  Maddie turned. At the bottom of the street, Tara and Nick were having a furious whispered conversation, although she’d clamped herself to his side like a baby koala to its mother. Ahead, Douglas and Cory were walking along behind Ivan, hand in hand.

  ‘We can’t leave Siri; she’s really upset.’

  ‘But if we were on our own, we could have a lot more fun,’ he whispered, his hand skimming her thigh under the edge of her dress. She jumped, anxiously looking around, hoping no one had seen.

  ‘Simon,’ she hissed, feeling the colour rushing into her face.

  He laughed. ‘What do you expect? I can hardly keep my hands off you. That is one tantalising dress. You do have a cracking pair of pins.’

  She stared at him, a horrible sense of anxiety burning in the pit of her stomach. He was being complimentary, wasn’t he? He mixed with the beautiful people. But his words made her uncomfortable.

  ‘Don’t be daft,’ she said, moving away from him, grateful to see that Siri had rejoined them.

  ‘I am so coming back here tomorrow. There are some gorgeous shops and there were some serious signature necklaces in that window.’ She looked at the simple neckline of Maddie’s dress. ‘That’s another trick I need to teach you: jewellery and scarves. Accessorising, the friend of travelling light.’

  ‘Maybe you should teach Cory and Tara,’ said Simon. ‘Not sure either of them have ever heard of travelling light.’

  Siri didn’t respond but her jaw tightened as if she were holding back her usual acid observations and she fell back into step alongside Maddie.

  Ivan led them to a bar, which spilled down several wide flat steps on the side of the street, the plush seating areas lit by flaming torches in wrought iron baskets suspended from the walls. It was already busy with tables full of empty glasses, groups of laughing people crowded into the woven seats.

  ‘This is very nice,’ said Cory graciously as she lowered herself into one of the seats, her arm stretched along the back, immediately looking at ease, as if she owned the place and taking up the lion’s share of the corner seat.

  ‘Mikail who owns the bar is an old friend of mine,’ explained Ivan. ‘This is one of the best bars in Hvar. Tom Cruise was here last year, Chris Hemsworth. Lots of famous people come here.’

  ‘Good evening, everyone. What can I get you to drink?’ asked a chirpy-voiced young girl with a slight Scandinavian accent and a gorgeous perfect white-toothed smile. Maddie almost laughed out loud as all of the men, without exception, sat up straighter at the sight of her swathe of pure white blonde hair that fell in waves to her bottom and the deep golden tan that set off her long lean body to perfection. Fresh-faced, she wore not a scrap of make-up and Maddie could almost see Tara and Cory’s hackles rise.

  ‘I’d like a Strawberry Daiquiri,’ announced Tara.

  ‘Where’s that on the menu?’ demanded Cory. ‘I didn’t see that.’

  ‘There isn’t one, but –’ she turned to the girl with a sugary sweetness that was as fake as saccharine ‘– I’m sure you can do one.’

  ‘Ja, it’s not a problem. Eric, the barman, he’s a professional mixologist. Nothing is too hard for him.’ The Scandinavian girl gave her an infectious perky smile, oblivious to Tara’s deliberate posturing.

  ‘I’ll have the same,’ said Cory a touch sulkily, as if once again Tara had upstaged her.

  Maddie had decided to keep her wits about her. ‘I’ll have a Coke, please.’

  ‘Diet or regular?’

  ‘Regular, please.’

  ‘Ooh, no! You can’t drink regular. Have you any idea how much sugar is in regular Coke?’ squealed Cory.

  ‘Clearly not,’ muttered Tara, under-her-breath, shooting a disdainful glance at Maddie’s middle.

  A
fierce red blush rolled over Maddie’s cheeks but she managed to school her face so that she didn’t react or even look at Tara.

  ‘I’ll have a cold beer,’ said Nick quickly. ‘What’re you having, Siri?’

  ‘A Pornstar Martini for me.’

  ‘What’s in that then?’ he asked, trying to bring a smile to her face, which was missing its usual bright-eyed sparkiness. ‘Not real porn stars, I’m assuming.’

  ‘Oh, Nicky, you are silly. Everyone knows what’s in a Pornstar. Gosh, I remember drinking it for the first time in the LAB bar in Soho. That was the night that Madonna was in there. Remember, Cory?’

  ‘Here you go.’ The waitress doled out the drinks and Maddie admitted to a tiny bit of envy at the colourful exotic-looking cocktails in their glamorous-shaped glasses as she lifted her plain old Coke in the toast of cheers with everyone. Nick clinked her glass with his lager and winked as if he knew exactly what she was thinking.

  ‘Mmm, I think the mixologist knows his flavours,’ murmured Cory as she sipped at her bright pink concoction. ‘Do you remember the Daiquiris we had in Antibes that time, T?’

  Tara giggled. ‘And Simon bet that up-and-coming pop star – what was his name? – that he couldn’t drink three strawberry daiquiris.’

  ‘I think you mean Bruno Mars, sweetie,’ said Simon.

  ‘Wasn’t he a darling man?’ Cory sighed.

  ‘Although they weren’t as good as the drinks in that bar in St Tro; do you remember, Douglas?’ Tara leaned forward.

  Douglas laughed. ‘All the drinks in St Tropez were good; they had to be, they were bloody pricey and you girls insisted on drinking on the front. Double the cost.’

  ‘Oh, Lord, that was a fun evening,’ said Simon. ‘Do you remember going on Jay-Z’s yacht?’

  Cory began to giggle. ‘Yes, and remember Douglas calling him Mr Z all night. That was hilarious.’

  ‘I didn’t know the chap was famous. He was American, he seemed jolly nice. We talked for a long time about investments. I thought he worked on Wall Street,’ Douglas said with indignation although it was tinged with a touch of pride as he looked down at his phone. He straightened.