The Secret Cove in Croatia

by Julie Caplin

  ‘Streisand?’ asked Maddie, wide-eyed, much to Aaron’s amusement. He let out an appreciative bark of laughter, while Cory let out a little Chihuahua-like yip.

  ‘No, honey, Broccoli.’ Bill winked again at her. ‘And Daniel might call in, with Rachel.’

  ‘Craig?’ she asked with a questioning wince, hearing Tara gasp next to her.

  Bill raised his hands in an I-couldn’t-possibly-say gesture. ‘You’ll have to wait and find out.’

  ‘Oh, we’d love to,’ gushed Tara, right on cue. ‘Absolutely love to.’

  Chapter 31

  Robinson Crusoe, eat your heart out. The colour of the sea here never got old. Nick would always remember this incredible turquoise. He eased the paddleboard onto the tiny strip of shingle beach and immediately slipped the drawstring bag from his shoulders, removing his flip-flops and his wallet, wrapped in two layers of ziplock plastic bags. Aside from a T-shirt and a bottle of water, he hadn’t brought anything else with him. Not much of a running-away kit, but he hadn’t been thinking of much beyond getting off the boat. His panicky state brought to mind the frightened baas of the sheep when they were penned for shearing and their mindless changes of direction, only to find bars at every turn.

  Dumping the paddleboard, he sat down in the shade of the pines that tumbled across the rocky ground down to the shoreline, grateful for the peace and quiet. This morning, despite the complaints of Cory and Tara, Ivan had moved the yacht out to this tiny island just opposite the port of Hvar. Nick, for one, was grateful for the solitude and so, he suspected, were Siri and Douglas. The silence buzzed in his ears and he dropped his head in his hands, conscious of a curious light-headed numbness. All his life he’d known his next step: what to do, where to go. At this moment he had no clue.

  Since he’d woken up yesterday and discovered Maddie had gone, things had been a nightmare and it had got even worse after they’d bumped into Bill. The ugly scene in the piazza after they’d left the restaurant came back to him, with all its unpleasantness.

  ‘Well, you kept that one quiet,’ hissed Tara, her whole body radiating indignant fury as she stalked along the cobbled street, her fingers pinching hard on his bicep. ‘We’ve been waiting to spot William Randall for over a week and you … you had met him.’ She’d stopped dead and jabbed him in the chest with a sharp index finger, her face ugly and vindictive. ‘I can’t believe that you would do that to me.’

  ‘Do what?’ he’d asked, genuinely bewildered. Contempt and derision marred her features and he took a step back. It was as if she were a different person.

  ‘Let me down so badly. What were you thinking? I’ll keep this one up my sleeve. Keep her on her toes. Was it your ace?’ Her eyes had glittered with malice and spite.

  ‘Ace?’ He frowned.

  ‘Yes. Thought you’d use it,’ she crowed.

  ‘Use it for what?’

  ‘As a bargaining tool. Negotiation.’ Her mouth curled.

  ‘But for what?’ he asked again.

  ‘Oh, come on, Nick. It’s what everyone does. Keep something in reserve so that you’ve got something to hold over me.’

  ‘But why would I do that?’ Seriously, she wasn’t making any sense.

  ‘Everyone wants something.’ She tossed her head, her voice snappish and irritable as if she was having to explain something to a child. ‘That’s how the game is played. I scratch your back, you scratch mine.’

  But he’d never wanted anything. This hadn’t been a game to him. And in that moment it was as if all the colour in life had faded and he’d felt like that child, the one who was too stupid to realise how the real world worked. The country farmer who didn’t fit in at all. It hit him with a dull thud of realisation that she’d assumed he was like her, that he wanted something.

  ‘Tara, what is it you want from me?’

  Her heavy disdainful sigh made him feel even more stupid as she looked him up and down. ‘You were supposed to play the game. You’re my foil. Look good beside me. You’re good-looking enough to pass for someone famous. Enough that people give us a second glance and wonder who you are.’

  ‘Huh! Well that’s … that’s put me in my place.’

  ‘What? I’ve just paid you a compliment.’ She rolled her eyes with impatience. ‘Told you you could pass for someone famous. What more do you want?’

  Sitting here on the beach, that awful sick feeling came back to him. Not at her words but at his own naïve stupidity, the pride and vanity that had let him believe Tara wanted him for himself. His head had been turned by her sophistication, glamour and worldly experience.

  Now he winced at the memory of his response.

  ‘Is that all you want? To be seen with the right person?’

  ‘Oh, dear God. You’re so wet behind the ears, aren’t you, darling? Of course it’s about being seen with the right person. Do you know how many followers I have on Instagram? You know our proposal has gone viral. My agent is delighted.’

  ‘What about … love, a relationship, a partner?’ He’d stared at her, unable to believe he’d got it so wrong.

  ‘Don’t tell me you thought you were in love with me? That’s so sweet.’

  His fingers clenched around a pebble, remembering the sudden surge of anger he’d felt when he realised she’d played him. Sobbed all over him. Cried because he didn’t love her. Made him feel guilty.

  ‘No, Tara,’ he’d said, snapping his head up and looking directly in her eyes. ‘I never thought I was in love with you. I cared about you. Because I’m a decent bloke. You might think sweet is weak and derisible, but you’re missing out.’ He’d laughed, harsh and mirthless, because he’d messed up so badly with the one person who should have counted. ‘I know what love is.’

  He held his hand up to his face, rubbing the smooth sides of the pebble between finger and thumb, trying to slow his breathing. The panicky bird’s wings beating in his chest. He loved Maddie. He had to see her, talk to her. Tell her what an idiot he’d been. Explain that he’d been too stupid to see through Tara’s manipulation. He shook his head as her final words came back to him.

  ‘I know what love is,’ Tara had mimicked in a cruel, childish voice. ‘Bully for you. In the meantime, we have a few more days to get through of this holiday. I expect you to play ball. Pay for the holiday. You breathe one word about our non-engagement, I will make sure the whole world knows what a love rat you are. Instagram, Twitter, the papers.’ And with that she’d stalked off to link her arm through Cory’s and moments later he’d heard her laughing along with the other model.

  Nick hurled the pebble into the sea as hard and as far as he could. Like he cared about that.

  At least no one in the family had heard anything about the engagement and he thanked God that his Dad was wedded to The Times and the rest of the family weren’t that into Instagram. He wouldn’t want his family dragged into the mess.

  Maybe he should have given them the heads-up, but he was too embarrassed and ashamed. What an idiot, too big for his boots, thinking he was in the big league. Dan and Jonathon would never let him hear the end of it.

  Nick rubbed a hand over his tired, gritty eyes, feeling the ache in his shoulder from paddling this far. The wind whispered through the feathery pine needles of the trees around him and from high above him birdsong echoed, clear and high, as he breathed in the sharp, clean air. There was a moral to this story. The nagging feeling that life was passing him by had been well and truly exorcised. Painful clarity brought with it the realisation that he missed the farm more than he could ever have imagined and he missed Maddie. He could picture her in the kitchen at home, taking the piss out of him with Dan and Jonathon. Telling them what an arse he’d been, recounting with great glee the ‘We are hot, the boat has been paid for’ story, describing the salmon-pink shorts as well as sending herself up and revealing she’d been wearing the same FatFace shorts as him.

  No wonder Maddie had been so furious with him.

  What a fucking idiot.

 
Douglas was the only one on deck, studying the screen of his laptop as usual, when Nick clambered aboard, hauling up the paddleboard.

  ‘Good trip?’

  ‘Yeah. Good to get some exercise.’ Nick rolled his shoulders, feeling a welcome ache in the muscles.

  ‘I’m missing my weekly game of squash,’ said Douglas, patting his pudgy middle. ‘Going to be hell getting back to it. You play?’

  ‘I’m a five-a-side man,’ said Nick. ‘Never played squash.’ He didn’t even know where the nearest squash court was.

  ‘You getting changed for this shindig?’ Douglas grimaced. ‘Everyone’s getting very excited.’

  Nick sighed. ‘Who wouldn’t want to catch a glimpse of James Bond?’ It would be something to tell the family; they’d be impressed at that, if nothing else.

  Douglas laughed. ‘Probably won’t turn up. It’s all hype, although Cory and Tara are beside themselves with excitement.’

  ‘I can imagine,’ said Nick dryly. Tara had already given him strict instructions that he wasn’t to leave her side.

  ‘I’d best go change. Ivan will be driving the launch over to Hvar at five forty-five. I bet it’s the first time ever that Cory and Tara will be ready and waiting bang on the button.’

  Clothes had been selected and laid out for him on the bed, as if he were incapable of dressing himself. Clenching his jaw, he ignored them and stalked into the shower, slamming the bathroom door. The quick shower did nothing to quell the irritation he felt and he glared at himself in the mirror.

  Stupid bastard.

  He shrugged into the linen shirt that Maddie had had laundered for him and ignored those bloody poncey shorts. A wry smile crossed his face as he remembered Maddie’s views on them and instead he pulled out his favourite cargo shorts; he’d had enough of trying to be something he wasn’t. As he pulled on the worn comfortable fabric, he wondered what Maddie would be wearing.

  Maddie. Maddie. Maddie. All his thoughts kept going back to her. He needed to talk to her.

  When he emerged from his cabin, everyone else was already assembled on deck. Tara had never looked more stunning in a show-stopping white dress with a large solitary peacock feather running down one side. This was co-ordinated perfectly with exactly the right shade of royal-blue shoes with laces wrapped around slender ankles and calves. Her hair was bundled on top of her head and a few delicate, wispy tendrils escaped, curling about her beautiful face, artfully arranged in a way that he knew had probably taken an hour to achieve, while her eyes glittered with the hard edge of diamonds. She cut a striking figure, cold and detached with chilly hauteur. And he’d never disliked her more.

  ‘Evening, Max,’ said Maddie as she emerged from her temporary cabin and walked along the corridor to where he stood with a clipboard and guest list. He looked rather gorgeous and very young in his smart tuxedo.

  ‘Evening, Maddie. You look sensational.’ He kissed her on both cheeks.

  ‘Thank you.’ She gave him a smile. ‘I’m so grateful that you’ve put me up. I feel I’m putting you to loads of trouble.’

  ‘Maddie, you’re kidding. Some of the divas we get on board …’ He pulled a sour face. ‘You’re a piece of cake.’

  ‘Cake is always good.’ Her eyes twinkled. ‘Chocolate or carrot?’ she teased.

  ‘Definitely carrot.’ He winked at her. ‘My favourite. I don’t like stuff that’s too rich; it never sits well.’

  ‘You’re such a charmer. I’m afraid the richer the better. I love chocolate cake.’ She laughed. ‘But thanks for looking after me. It’s much appreciated, as being here yesterday and today has given me some breathing space.’ She sighed and ran her hand over the fabric of Siri’s borrowed dress.

  ‘You look great,’ he added.

  ‘I’m a bit nervous about meeting Bill’s wife for the first time.’

  ‘Glo? You’re kidding me. She’s going to love you.’

  ‘That’s what Bill keeps saying.’ Maddie left him to mount the stairs to the main deck, where the party was already in full swing.

  ‘Good evening, madam.’ Krish, the steward, stepped forward with a large glass of champagne flutes. ‘What do you think?’

  The deck area had been transformed into an exotic Bedouin tent with hundreds of strings of coloured paper lanterns and jewel-bright triangles of silk fabric suspended like sailcloths. All the furniture had been removed and replaced with long silk upholstered benches covered in tasselled bolsters and cushions. Although she’d been dashing around all afternoon helping out with last-minute calls, polishing glasses, she’d been sent to get ready before the finishing touches had been made.

  ‘Wow. You’ve worked hard. This looks amazing,’ she said. He nodded and turned to the next guest.

  The deck hummed with the buzz and chatter of a good party and she drifted through the crowd with her glass of champagne to talk to Dr Cannon, who was standing on her own with an amused look on her face.

  ‘Evening, Maddie. Enjoying the show?’

  ‘I’ve only just come up. Bill wanted a few final changes to the storyboards.’ Actually, she’d been delaying deliberately in her cabin, waiting for enough people to arrive so that she could hide in the crowd. Now, using Zoe as a shield, she scanned the crowd, spotting Tara on the other side of the busy deck.

  ‘Yeah, he’s a slave-driver,’ said Zoe with an ironic grin. ‘I haven’t had a single patient since you. I’m hoping one of this lot will break a nail or something. Or maybe you’ve developed a blister from all that drawing.’

  Maddie’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. ‘Do you know much about eating disorders?’

  Zoe’s eyes shot to her face in surprise. ‘Enough to know they’re very bad for your health.’

  ‘Not me, someone … someone I know.’

  The doctor followed her gaze across the deck. ‘Do they want help?’

  ‘I think so.’ Maddie winced. ‘Although maybe it comes under crew confidentiality.’

  ‘If it saves a life, there’s no such thing,’ said Zoe crisply. ‘Eating disorders can seriously reduce life expectancy. It can cause so many other health issues, all of which worsen the longer it goes on.’

  Maddie sucked in a breath. She might not like Tara but she couldn’t not do anything. Quickly, before she could change her mind, she told Zoe about Tara’s eating habits and the constant sickness.

  ‘It’s a tricky one,’ said Zoe, ‘but she needs help. I’m happy to try and speak to her this evening, perhaps see if she’ll come see me tomorrow.’

  ‘That would be wonderful,’ breathed Maddie. ‘I’d be so grateful. I think, when I spoke to her, she was worried.’

  ‘OK. I’ll see what I can do. Now, what about you?’

  ‘Me?’

  ‘Yes, you. You could do with a good night’s sleep. Something bothering you?’

  ‘Nothing that you can fix,’ said Maddie with a wince.

  ‘Ah, broken heart then,’ said Zoe with alarming insight.

  ‘Is it that obvious?’ asked Maddie, realising that only candour would work with the insightful doctor.

  ‘Doesn’t take Sherlock Holmes to work it out. Boats are great until a relationship goes wrong and then everything’s a bit too close for comfort. You fled in a hurry. And I did wonder if there was something with the “concerned friend” who came rushing to rescue you from Bill’s evil clutches. Is he fully recovered from his food poisoning?’

  ‘Yes, more’s the pity,’ snarled Maddie.

  ‘Oh, dear. I don’t wish to be interfering but … being a sensible middle-aged woman who’s had a fair amount of experience, have you spoken to him?’

  Maddie closed her mouth with truculent finality.

  ‘I guessed as much. Honestly, you young people. Every communication tool under the sun and none of you seem able to talk to each other.’ Zoe shook her head, lifting her champagne glass to take a long slow pull. ‘How long after your row did you sneak off the boat and come here?’

  With a roll of her eyes, Maddie turned to t
he doctor. ‘I think you are bloody Sherlock Holmes. How did you know we had a row?’

  ‘Because if you’d spoken nicely to each other and had a sensible conversation, you’d still be on board the boat. I’m not prying, dear, but you look unhappy. And –’ Zoe nodded towards the other side of the deck ‘– so does he.’

  Following her gaze, Maddie looked across the busy deck. Tara had positioned herself opposite Cory and Simon, and from here Maddie could see that both the two women were looking over each other’s shoulders, their eyes constantly roving this way and that, seeking out the right people to speak to.

  Beside her, Nick looked ill at ease, like a prisoner longing for escape, and although Tara never missed an opportunity to touch him or tug him to her side as if she wanted everyone to know that he was with her, he looked like a cardboard cut-out brought along as a prop. Maddie’s lips pursed and she clutched her evening bag tightly to her side. Why did she even feel sorry for him? But she couldn’t help it; he didn’t look happy. There were hollows in his cheeks and his mouth … She shouldn’t be looking at his mouth, but the corners seemed perpetually downturned.

  ‘It’s his own fault,’ she said shortly. He was the one that had proposed to Tara. ‘Excuse me, I ought to go and find the rest of the party from my boat.’

  Zoe just toasted her with her champagne flute, the ghost of a smile on her lips, which made Maddie feel rather churlish. The other woman was a doctor; wasn’t it part of the Hippocratic Oath to try and help?

  Siri’s bright red hair was easy to spot and when Maddie joined her she introduced her to the small group of people that she and Douglas had got chatting to. Most of them were friends of friends or shared City contacts with Douglas and, although everyone was friendly enough, Maddie couldn’t help feeling like a third wheel.

  It was a relief, an hour later, when Bill hailed her in his booming voice. ‘Maddie –’ he grabbed her arm and propelled her over to one of the tables near the bar ‘– come meet Gloria.’

  The small plump woman gave Maddie an unnerving once-over and didn’t say a word.