by Julie Caplin
‘Maddie, this is Gloria. Glo, my love, this is Maddie the mermaid.’
‘You don’t look like a mermaid to me,’ said Gloria with a narrow-eyed stare and a very gravelly voice with, rather surprisingly, a definite tone of the Midlands.
‘And I didn’t when they fished me out of the sea,’ replied Maddie, realising she was being judged and needed to prove herself. ‘I looked a right state. More drowned rat territory and then I threw up all down the side of Bill’s boat. I don’t think mermaids do that.’
Gloria’s face relaxed as she let out a delighted belly laugh. ‘Now I know why he took to you. Where are you from?’
‘Selly Oak.’
‘Kidderminster.’ Gloria pointed to herself. ‘I knew I recognised that accent. What’s a girl like you doing out here, swimming with sharks?’
‘Learning to find the dolphins,’ said Maddie with a grin, recognising a kindred spirit.
‘Good. After a while you figure it all out. Every now and then Bill gets it wrong and I have to step in and rescue him. I thought you were one of those starstruck model types who latches onto him.’
‘No, but I brought a couple with me,’ said Maddie. ‘They’re mostly harmless, just a bit single-minded about what they want.’
‘Mostly harmless, I like that. Like mosquitoes, mostly harmless but bloody irritating and I take great delight in swatting them, which if I were of a more charitable disposition I wouldn’t. But they say charity starts at home and this definitely isn’t home.’ She gestured at the yacht.
Maddie smiled. ‘It’s quite intimidating.’
‘It’s a boat. If we were supposed to live on the sea, I’m sure the good Lord would have granted us flippers. I much prefer dry land … but then this gives us privacy which, away from home, can be a blessing.’
Before Maddie knew it, Glo and she were deep in conversation. She was one of the easiest people to talk to and, it turned out, the buyer of the art in the salon. Before long Glo was telling her about some of the pictures in her Florida home.
‘You have a real Degas?’ asked Maddie for the second time, still not quite believing it.
‘Yes. Twenty-fifth wedding anniversary present. I tell you, if I’d known when I married him how well he was going to do, I might have run a mile.’
‘Why?’ asked Maddie.
‘You think I’ve always been this comfortable around all this?’ Glo waved her hand. ‘It’s taken a while to adjust. Mostly I stay home in Florida but Bill misses me terribly.’ She grinned at Maddie. ‘He gets awful lonely, bless him.’ Then she lowered her voice. ‘I think he just likes me to keep the hot totties at bay.’
Maddie burst out laughing.
‘Now, tell me more about Paris. I’ve not been there for years. Where should I go and what was the best art you saw?’
Grateful for another distraction from Nick, who seemed to be constantly in her peripheral vision, Maddie gave Glo a detailed rundown of all her favourite pieces in Paris.
After sitting chatting for nearly half an hour, Glo pulled a rueful face. ‘And now I’m going to be in trouble for monopolising you. It’s been lovely talking to you and tomorrow we’ll have another chinwag about art. I hear there’s a really good museum in Hvar and none of this lot will come with me. Philistines, the lot of them. However, as this is a social occasion, I guess I’d better do the hostess thing.’ Her comic grimace made Maddie laugh.
‘It’s a date.’
‘Now, where are your mosquitoes? I’ll go make them welcome,’ she said, before adding with an evil grin, ‘and squash their pretensions. Tell them Bill’s already cast the film.’
‘You’ll break their hearts,’ said Maddie, pointing out Cory and Tara on the other side of the deck as Glo bustled over with righteous wifely zeal.
Left on her own, she drifted to the side rail, sipping at her champagne, gazing up at the fort lit up for the night, guarding the town, content to eavesdrop on the conversations around her.
‘Have you seen Daniel and Rachel yet?’ a tall blonde woman in the tightest white jeans Maddie had ever seen asked a second woman in a breathy voice, no doubt because her circulation was about to be cut off.
‘No, I bet they’re not coming,’ replied the second woman in a whiny disgruntled voice. ‘Just hype, although I think I saw Katy Perry and Orlando Bloom.’
‘Really?’ asked the other woman, although it came out as Rarely. ‘No way.’
‘I swear it looked like her. He always looks so different.’
‘Hmm,’ came the disbelieving reply. ‘The only person I’ve seen is that Instagram engagement girl. You know, the one that proposed to her boyfriend, right about there.’ The woman almost creaked in her jeans as she carefully leaned over the rail and pointed to the promenade. ‘Look, you can see the restaurant name in the picture. It was right there.’
‘Gosh, I didn’t realise that. And she’s here on the boat?’
‘Yes, with the guy.’
‘I’ve heard he’s Mr Hottie. Is he as gorgeous as everyone says? Where are they? What’s she wearing tonight?’
‘White dress. Big peacock feather on it. Designer, by the looks of things. You can’t miss her.’
‘Oh God, can you imagine the wedding pictures with those two?’
‘Well, let’s hope he looks a bit happier in them. He looks a bit miffed tonight. Did you see the video? Talk about stunned, but then I guess it’s not every day your girlfriend proposes to you in front of an audience.’
‘No, but good on her, girl power and all that. Why shouldn’t she?’
‘Hmm, not sure about that. I reckon he’d have got lynched by the crowd if he’d said no. And he didn’t say yes. You can see it if you watch the video carefully.’ Astonishingly, White Jeans worked a mobile phone out of her back pocket, which was a Herculean feat in its own right.
‘Didn’t he?’
‘No, watch.’
Dropping all pretence of studying the view and the fort, Maddie turned round. ‘Excuse me,’ she said. ‘Could I see that?’
White Jeans shrugged and held out her phone.
The video, despite being shaky and out of focus for half of the time, was clear enough to show exactly what had happened. It was also enough to show Maddie that she’d totally misjudged Nick. All this time she’d assumed that he’d done the proposing. Watching his face, if the situation hadn’t caused her so much pain it would have been laughable. Every horrified feeling was broadcast across his face before he managed to compose himself, fixing a bland expression of equanimity on his face. Perhaps because she knew him, she could see that, behind the mask, he was acutely uncomfortable.
Her stomach contracted, hard and fast, the champagne she’d drunk swirling uncomfortably. Jerking her head, she scanned the deck, her eyes tracking, looking for the blonde head of hair. She needed to find him. Now. Talk to him. In her head she could hear him asking in that low urgent voice, ‘Is that really what you think of me?’ She had to find him. Tell him she’d lied.
But as she searched through the crowds of people there was no sign of him. For once Tara was flying solo and talking to an older man with greying hair who looked slightly familiar. He was rather like lots of people Maddie had seen this evening, thinking that she’d met them some place before but couldn’t think where and then realising she’d seen them on the telly.
‘Maddie …’ Bill grabbed her as she walked past the bar area near the entrance to the salon, hoping to see him in one of the corners of the yacht. ‘I hear you met Glo and she loved you, I knew she would. Come and meet some people.’ He nodded towards a group of people standing by the Sonia Delaunay painting, almost shielded from view by Aaron standing on what looked like guard duty. She recognised two of the faces and, in front of them, Glo beckoning her with a broad welcoming smile.
She hesitated for a minute but Bill was ushering her towards the salon. With one last hopeful scan of the crowd, she gave in. Confronting Nick at a party probably wasn’t the best plan of action.
She looked at her watch. Theirs was a conversation that needed to be had without interruptions and distractions.
‘Bill, can I ask another favour?’
‘Sure.’
Bill had rolled his eyes, muttered something about young love, grumbled that Gloria would approve and agreed that Aaron or Max could run her back to the Avanturista. Until then, she guessed meeting James Bond was a small consolation.
Thank God for silver fox movie guy whom Tara had latched onto in the last half hour. Nick moved away from her and Cory, his eyes searching the deck for another glimpse of Maddie. He’d seen her quite a few times during the evening and each time she’d been chatting away to someone. The last time he’d seen her she was ensconced with a middle-aged woman, her graceful artist hands gesticulating with enthusiasm, but now there was no sign of her anywhere. Perhaps she’d gone to bed already. His stomach dipped in disappointment. He could hardly go banging on cabin doors.
It had been a long evening and Tara, although clingy at first, had been uncharacteristically subdued since a visit to the toilet early on. Now, she was back to her usual dazzling self, charming the older man, who was some movie producer. Nick was knackered and, having accepted Bill’s hospitality for as long as he could bear, he slipped off the yacht and walked along the promenade, the music of the party bouncing off the water. The town was quietening down but there were still plenty of bars open. He skirted the harbour area, where Ivan was dozing in the front seat of the launch. Going for a beer felt like the better option, so that he didn’t feel a total loser going back to the Avanturista before everyone else.
Two beers later, neither of which had eased the dull ache in his stomach, he got into a water taxi on the other side of the harbour. The little boat bounced over the dark waves and Nick watched as the bright lights of Hvar and the fort guarding over the town receded.
So much had changed since the first visit to Hvar. Siri and Douglas both looked so much happier, even though they’d yet to go public. Poor Cory still traded on the assumption that Douglas would change his mind. She, along with Tara and Simon, now clung together like some bitchy collective that made him wonder why he’d ever wanted to be part of all that. How he wished that he could turn back the clock, go back to Tajna cove. Just the four of them. Images of the clear water, the sun sparkling on the rippling waves and Maddie’s mischievous smile filled his head and regret pinched hard.
The Avanturista was in complete darkness when he returned, only the moon guiding him along the deck. This evening it was almost full, glowing with mysterious beauty, throwing the nearby islands into a relief of silver and black. Grabbing another beer from the galley, feeling a sense of freedom that no one else was here, he took himself up to the top deck and lay on one of the sun loungers looking up at the star-laden sky. If he watched for long enough he’d see a shooting star. It was a game he’d played lots of times with his sister when they were younger, making wishes for their future, too scared to share because if you told anyone what you’d hoped for it wouldn’t come true. With a fond smile he could hazard a guess at what Nina would have wished for; she’d been in love with his best friend Sebastian for ever. In those days his wishes had been as simple as winning the next weekend’s rugby fixture.
With a heavy sigh he rested the beer bottle on his chest. Maddie seemed as out of reach as the moon and he kept going over their heated final conversation, as he’d done for the last two sleepless nights. His thoughts turned muzzy and, giving in to tiredness, he closed his eyes and listened to the water lap, lapping at the hull, the background hum of the cicadas on the island and the far distant sounds of Hvar’s nightlife.
He woke with a start to the sound of furniture being dragged across the deck below and Tara’s voice, slightly slurred.
‘Shh,’ said Cory in a loud whisper that carried in the still night air.
Nick strained to look at his watch. He must have been asleep for a couple of hours.
‘Quiet,’ said Simon as Tara giggled and Cory let out a little snort of laughter.
‘I am quiet,’ said Tara, indignation in her voice.
‘Be quieter,’ said Simon. ‘You don’t want to wake everyone up.’
‘I don’t care,’ said Tara, sounding unusually aggressive. Nick sat up and carefully put the beer bottle down beside him so as not to make a noise, feeling something wasn’t quite right.
‘You don’t want them to catch us.’ Simon’s voice was lower.
Tara laughed nastily in a way that had Nick tensing. ‘Simon, darling. Douglas’s little blue-eyed boy. Always sucking up to him, but I guess it’s useful having rich friends.’
Nick frowned but then Simon spoke.
‘You can be such a bitch, Tara. Douglas is my best friend because we looked out for each other at school. Neither of us fitted in but Douglas didn’t care and he took me under his wing. Yeah, I’m lucky because he’s a very generous guy but he’s the most loyal mate you could ask for. And he wouldn’t like this.’
Tara snorted and then carried on in a mocking cold voice, ‘It’s a wrap of coke, sweetie. It’s not like we’re mainlining heroin. Besides, I really don’t care.’
‘Keep your voice down. I tell you, Douglas wouldn’t like it. He’s pretty tolerant of most things, but not drugs.’
‘Stuff Douglas, he’s a boring prude.’ Tara’s voice rang out a little too loudly.
‘Rich boring prude, please, Tara,’ said Cory.
‘Yes,’ agreed Tara. ‘Shame that gravy train has departed.’
‘Thanks Tar, jealous much. It’s just temporary. He’ll come running back, he always does.’
‘I wouldn’t be so sure this time,’ said Simon, a distinct tone of disgust in his voice which Nick almost liked him for.
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘If I didn’t know better, I’d think he’d found someone else. He seems happier.’
‘Who?’ Tara laughed with derision. ‘There’s only us on the boat. What, you think he’s got the hots for that fat Maddie girl? Don’t be ridiculous.’
‘Well, Simon had the hots for her, didn’t you?’ Cory’s voice was sly.
‘She was a potential shag.’
Nick clenched his fingers into a fist – OK, he really didn’t like Simon – and rose slowly to his feet, taking a few silent steps to the top of the flight of stairs.
‘Dear God. Seriously, Simon,’ drawled Tara in catty outrage, ‘you’d want to poke that? I thought you had some taste. Or are you desperate?’
‘Actually, no, I’m not desperate. She’s a nice girl.’ He gave a self-mocking laugh. ‘I thought I was in love with you, actually, Tara, but do you know what, I’m not that desperate.’
Nick heard the other man’s footsteps retreating.
‘Arse,’ said Tara. ‘She’s a nice girl,’ she mimicked. ‘She’s a fat lump, with a backside as big as Birmingham.’ Then, in a quieter voice, she added, ‘I’d hate to ever get that big.’
There was a silence before she said, ‘Does it worry you, Cory?’
‘I’d worry more about looking like a bag lady. Seriously, like, where does she get her clothes from?’ interjected Cory.
Tara laughed unkindly. ‘Third-hand rejects. It looks as if she dresses from the wardrobe Oxfam forgot.’
‘Or Oxfam rejected,’ hooted Cory.
Nick saw Tara shake her head as he came down the last of the stairs, his fingers clenched hard at his sides. He’d never been so furious in his life.
‘And have you heard how she speaks?’ Tara’s voice had risen in gleeful spite as she continued with her derisive diatribe. ‘Who would want to be seen in public with that? Those shorts she wears. Have you ever seen anything like it?’
‘I have,’ said Nick quietly, stepping from the shadows onto the deck.
‘Nick!’ Tara clutched at her throat. ‘I didn’t see you there. What happened to you? I didn’t see you leave the party.’
‘You were otherwise occupied. To be honest –’ he sighed, the anger ebbing
away and feeling weary to his bones ‘– I got fed up with it all. You. The shallowness and the bitchiness. And I could have borne it for a few days more but –’ his lip curled as he looked at her, for the first time seeing the malice twisting her face ‘– when you started on Maddie, that was the final straw.’
‘Her? What’s she got to do with anything?’
Nick laughed. Tara would never understand in this lifetime. ‘She’s everything. Compared to you she’s the sun, the moon, the stars, the sea.’ Even though the words sounded ridiculously cheesy and his brothers would rag him to death right there and then if they’d been here, but he meant them with every last fibre of his heart. He’d do anything to tell her how much she meant him.
‘What?’ Tara’s face twisted in disbelief, her eyes small and mean like a snake, her mouth petulant and cruel. ‘What are you talking about?’ Her voice was full of derision.
‘I’m talking about Maddie. She’s so many things.’ He smiled, just thinking about them. ‘Things that you wouldn’t even prize. Kind-hearted, thoughtful, caring, warm, talented … The list is so long I could go on but it wouldn’t mean anything to you because those things don’t mean anything to you. And the sad thing is she doesn’t even believe she’s all those things – another reason why I love her.’ He gave a self-deprecating laugh, his heart lightening at saying the words out loud. ‘And I really need to tell her that.’
From the corner of the deck a small shadow detached itself from the sofa.
‘I think you just did,’ said a soft voice.
Nick’s heart went thunk in his chest as Maddie moved towards him, walking with bold strides as Cory and Tara stepped back to let her pass.
She came right up to him and stood in front of him, her face lit up by the moonlight and the love shining in her eyes.
He lifted a hand to her face, brushing back the curls from her cheek. ‘Hey, you. I’ve missed you.’
‘I missed you too. And –’ her smile was starlight and sunshine ‘– I forgot to tell you something. I love you too.’
His heart would surely burst at that. With a smile, his breath slightly unsteady, he leaned forward and kissed her. The touch of her lips was like coming home.