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High Tide Page 24
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‘Doesn’t look like the rain’s going to stop,’ she said.
‘No,’ he said, and he was staring at her, and he put his cup down, still holding his towel in place, then put his spare hand behind her head and pulled her to him, and she tasted chocolate and promise and moments later his towel fell to the floor.
Alexa was tempted to cancel her drink with Daisy’s dad when she saw the rain. It was what her mum would have called stair-rods, and she would be wet through in seconds. But she told herself not to be such a wuss. This would be the first time she’d been out on her own since they got to Pennfleet. And Oscar insisted.
‘It would be really rude to cancel, Mum.’
He was looking after the little ones for her. He was a good boy, Oscar. So Alexa dug out the giant cagoule she had bought when they moved here, and put it on over the black dress with the white collar she had chosen to wear. She had been going to wear ballet flats but they wouldn’t last two minutes, so she put on her trusty biker boots. Then she found an umbrella.
The wind nearly blew her all the way to the Townhouse by the Sea, where they were supposed to meet. She dried herself off as best she could in the ladies’, and reapplied her eyeliner. She wanted to look as respectable as she could. Oscar was smitten with Daisy, and she didn’t want any trouble. She’d had enough of that in her life.
She settled herself into a window seat, and watched the rain lash the window. There was something very comforting about being tucked up inside while the elements did their thing outside. And when the waitress came to take her order, she asked for a glass of Prosecco. She hadn’t had time to celebrate her commission yet. It was the first chance she’d had to really think about it.
She was just toasting herself with the bubbles when the man she assumed was Daisy’s dad walked in and looked around. She raised a tentative hand to identify herself, and as he took off his hat, she recognised him straight away.
And he her.
‘Skinny soy latte, chocolate brownie,’ he grinned, pointing at her.
She laughed, and stood up.
‘This is mad. Daisy said you had a café,’ she told him, ‘but I didn’t realise it was yours. I’m Alexa.’
‘Sam.’
For some reason, it felt right to kiss him on the cheek, even though they had only just met.
‘I got myself a glass of Prosecco,’ said Alexa.
‘Sounds like a great idea,’ replied Sam, who liked the fact she’d just gone ahead and got what she wanted. He ordered one for himself from the waitress, and sat down in the window seat next to her.
‘So Oscar said you wanted to meet me? I know you’re probably worried, because you’ve heard things. About my ex. But the thing is …’ she was gabbling, because it was always embarrassing talking about it, ‘yes, he’s in prison, but it was a sort of fraud thing to do with out-of-date drugs he was selling on. Not that that excuses it, of course, but I didn’t want you to think that he was some sort of crack baron and that Oscar came from a dodgy family—’
‘Hey hey hey hey shush a minute,’ said Sam. ‘What did you say?’
‘Um – which bit?’
‘About Oscar saying you wanted to meet me?’
‘Yes. That’s what he said. And he told me to meet you here.’
‘But that’s what Daisy said.’
‘Sorry?’ Alexa looked puzzled.
‘Daisy said you wanted to meet me.’
‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘I mean, not that it isn’t lovely to meet you, of course. But—’
Sam started to laugh. ‘Little buggers.’
‘What?’ She still hadn’t cottoned on.
‘I think we’ve been set up. By our kids.’
She thought about it for a moment, and then smiled. ‘Oh my God.’ She tucked her hair behind her ears. ‘This is so embarrassing.’
‘What the hell,’ said Sam. ‘We might as well enjoy ourselves.’
The waitress brought him his Prosecco. He raised his glass to hers.
‘It’s very nice to meet you.’
‘It’s very nice to meet you, too.’
And she smiled again, and he noticed the gap between her front teeth, which was kind of cute. And he thought about Louise, and he thought she would probably be laughing her head off too, at the scenario, and might very well be cheering him on. He hoped so.
‘So, skinny soy latte,’ he said to her, ‘what is it you actually do?’
Two hours later, they hadn’t stopped talking. They discovered so many things they had in common – music, favourite recipes, artists, books. Places they wanted to go.
The rain was still lashing down.
‘Listen,’ said Sam. ‘We’ll get soaked again if we go home now. Shall I see if they’ve got a table? Shall we have supper?’
Alexa panicked for a moment, because a meal here wasn’t going to be cheap, but then she remembered her commission and decided that she deserved dinner out with a lovely man.
‘That,’ she said, ‘is a totally brilliant idea.’
Nathan was still there when Vanessa woke in the morning.
The first thing she saw was his lean, toned back with the mermaid tattoo on the right shoulder. She put out a finger and traced the ink. His skin was warm and like velvet. She swallowed. She couldn’t even begin to think about the night before.
‘That tickles,’ he told her, and she could hear laughter in his voice.
‘I’ll stop then,’ she said.
‘No, don’t.’
Then she thought, shit, I need to make myself look presentable before he turns round and sees the horrible truth. ‘I’m going to make us tea,’ she whispered in his ear, and scampered into the bathroom.
In the mirror, she held up her hands and gave a silent scream of joy, then did a little dance, then set to making herself look as if she had just woken up looking utterly ravishing. Teeth, moisturiser, comb through hair then ruffle, a smidge of mascara, a slick of lip-gloss. A squirt of perfume.
She looked in the mirror. And was surprised to realise she looked about ten years younger.
In the kitchen, she looked outside to see if Frank Cooper had reappeared, but he hadn’t. The harbour was as calm as anything, the day bright with just a light breeze. It was as if the storm had never happened.
She took up a tray with two mugs of tea into the bedroom. Nathan was lying on his back, his arms hooked around his head, smiling at her.
‘We should talk,’ she said, sitting on the bed next to him.
‘Oh, really?’ he said. ‘Must we?’
She handed him a mug of tea, and he sat up.
‘Look, I think you’re totally amazing. But I’ve just lost my husband. I’m kind of all over the place. And I’m old enough to be your mother. Almost. You belong with someone your own age. If we got together, one of us would get hurt. Probably both of us. It would be … awkward. It’s a lovely idea. In theory. But on balance …’
She trailed off. Nathan was staring at her. ‘On balance what?’ he asked, putting his tea down on the bedside table. Then he gave her the laziest, sexiest smile, put out a finger and touched the hollow at the base of her neck, by her collarbone. She shivered. Swallowed.
‘On balance?’ he repeated, drawing a tiny circle with the tip of his finger.
She couldn’t speak.
‘On balance?’
‘Oh fuck it,’ she said, reaching out an arm. She hooked it round his neck and pulled him towards her. ‘If it all ends in tears, don’t come crying to me.’
That’s just what his grandad had said. But he didn’t think there would be any.
‘We’re going to have a lot of fun before the tears start.’
He was kissing her neck. Vanessa was squirming with the thrill of it.
He put his other hand up and held her head in his hands. Stared into her eyes. ‘You’re beautiful.’
She could feel herself blushing. ‘I bet you say that to all the cougars.’
‘Will you be quiet? I don’t care how old you ar
e.’
They stared at each other for a moment, smiling, in that I can’t believe this is really happening way. Like they had the first night. The magic was still there.
29
In the end, Mary didn’t have to wait as long as she thought for her results, because Dr Webster knew the consultant, and he phoned her as soon as he knew, and she asked him if she could tell Mary herself.
‘You’re all right, Mary,’ she told her. ‘We’ll need to keep an eye on it, but that’s good practice anyway. I’m so pleased. I know it’s a horrible scare.’
Mary could think of nothing to say but thank you. When she’d taken in the good news, she’d go up to the surgery and take Dr Webster a little something to show her appreciation. Not everyone would get that treatment, she suspected, and she was grateful.
She went to find Kenny. He was in his shed, but instead of sitting and staring into space with a roll-up he was sorting out his fishing gear, which had lain in a tangle for months. She couldn’t believe the change in him, even though they were living under the strain of not knowing.
But now they did.
‘I’m OK,’ she told him. She wasn’t one for effusiveness, Mary. Nor was Kenny, much, but the embrace they gave each other said everything they needed to know. Sometimes you didn’t need words.
‘Come into town with me. Now.’
Kenny looked puzzled. ‘What for, love? I got the shopping. We’ve got tea.’
‘There’s something I want to do.’
He could hardly refuse her request. He grabbed his coat, and she got hers, and they walked down the hill into Pennfleet. The high street was fresh and lively after the storm. It was almost as if it hadn’t happened.
Kenny followed Mary up the street into the travel agents, where they sat down in front of a young girl who smiled and asked them where they wanted to go.
‘Australia,’ said Mary, and Kenny looked at her as if she was mad.
‘I’ve been given a chance,’ she told him. ‘I want to breathe the same air that my boys are breathing. I want to put my grandchildren to bed in their own bed. I want to get a taste of their life so I can imagine them when I’m back in Pennfleet.’
‘I totally understand that, but how are we going to pay? I mean, I know I’m working but—’
And she told him about Spencer’s bequest. And how she’d kept it quiet until she knew she was all right, because they might have needed the money to tide them over.
They sat for a moment while the travel agent tapped away at the keyboard. Mary reached out and took Kenny’s hand. She was so proud of him, for getting his job, and standing up to Ruthie, who had agreed to find her own place and had already made arrangements to go and see a couple of flats. Quite good-naturedly, it seemed. It was funny, she thought, how out of bad could come good, sometimes. How people proved their mettle.
‘OK – so, two tickets from Heathrow to Sydney. Fifteenth of December. Returning in four weeks.’
‘First class,’ said Mary.
‘It’s very dear,’ said the agent.
‘I don’t care,’ said Mary, and smiled.
Thank you, Spencer, wherever you are.
On Kate’s last night in Pennfleet, she felt shattered. But Debbie had called round to say goodbye, so she couldn’t just flop. The two of them shared a bottle of wine Debbie had brought round. Kate had to rummage in one of the boxes she had packed up to get out two glasses. Everything was ready to go first thing in the morning, either shipped over to her in New York, or off to Recycling, or the charity shop.
‘So when’s it going on the market?’
Kate realised she’d been so busy she hadn’t filled her friend in on what had happened. She hadn’t told her about spending the night at Southcliffe, either. She didn’t want a post-mortem on what it meant, or what it might mean. Because it meant nothing.
‘I might have a buyer for the cottage already. Rupert Malahide.’
Debbie was staring at her. She looked strained. ‘Oh. So that’s why he asked you out for dinner.’
‘I guess so. But it would save me a fortune in agents’ fees. He’s supposed to be making me a formal offer.’
‘How much?’ Debbie’s voice sounded strangled.
Kate wasn’t sure she wanted to tell her. ‘Well, we haven’t quite agreed on the price.’
Debbie leaned forward. ‘Roughly how much? More than three hundred?’
‘Well …’ Kate felt awkward. ‘Just over.’
Debbie sat back again and digested the information.
‘Oh.’
‘What’s the matter?’
Debbie looked away.
‘Scott and I would have liked your cottage.’
‘Really?.’
‘We worked out we could just afford it. If we sold ours and got an interest-only mortgage. I’d probably have to get another job but now Leanne’s at nursery …’
‘Isn’t it far too small?’
‘We were thinking about a loft conversion.’ Debbie’s voice was small. ‘But there’s no way we could afford over three hundred. We’re just local scum, you see. We don’t get a look in when it comes to buying the pretty houses.’
Kate was shocked at the venom in her voice.
‘Debbie—’
‘We get left up the arse end of town where we belong.’
‘I’m so sorry.’
‘Don’t you worry. No one else does. The likes of Rupert Malahide certainly don’t. He won’t be happy till he’s bought up the whole town and stuffed it full of toffs like him.’
Debbie gulped at her wine, then put her glass back down.
‘Debs – you should have said. You should have told me. We could have worked something out, maybe.’
‘No. It was just a stupid dream. Who was I trying to kid?’
Her voice broke.
‘Sorry. It’s just hard. Four kids. Keeping body and soul together. We’ve got so many plans but we never seem to get anywhere. I didn’t mean to have a go at you. It’s tough, you know. Trying to scratch a living. Picking up the crumbs left by the rich people.’
‘I get it,’ said Kate, putting her hand over hers.
‘I know you haven’t got any choice. Rupert would buy your place anyway. And I’m just jealous, I suppose. My life doesn’t change from day to day and yours seems so … glamorous. We seem so different. But we were the same once.’
‘Don’t be jealous,’ said Kate. ‘I envy you, too. Your lovely husband and your amazing kids.’
‘You’re joking.’ Debbie looked surprised.
‘My life’s ridiculous. It might seem glamorous, but it’s superficial. It has no meaning. Not really.’
‘I wouldn’t mind doing a swap. You can come and look after my lot for a week.’
Kate laughed. ‘I can tell you. I have my fair share of tantrums to deal with.’
Her heart sank slightly as she thought of Carlos. It had been good to be away from him. She’d found time to breathe. But even from here, she could sense his neediness. Her inbox was crammed with agendas, dates for meetings, possible menus, prices, venues to visit. She was going to have to hit the ground running.
‘Come here.’ She wrapped Debbie in a hug. She thought about how many times they’d done this. Not least after the debacle at Rupert’s brother’s twenty-first, when Debbie had hugged away her humiliation.
She didn’t have friends like this in New York. She’d have to get some, she decided. It would be the first thing she worked on when she got back.
After Debbie left, after a lot of hugs and a few tears and some slightly tipsy I love yous, Kate sat in the silence of the kitchen. The silence of the emptiness was deafening: even the radio had been packed up to go to the recycling centre in Shoredown.
Part of her wished she could stay to see the sale go through, but there was no point. Her life had to go on. And Robin’s life, and Nancy’s life, and Debbie’s life, would carry on without her. They didn’t need her
Bed, she thought. Just a few ends to tie up
tomorrow, and then the drive up to Heathrow. If she stayed up any later, she would get maudlin. Think about all the ghosts in the house. She’d take her last tablet. And boy was she going to need it. All she wanted to do was sleep.
‘I think you children should know,’ said Sam, ‘that you can’t go round messing with people’s lives. It was a terrible thing to do. You lied, for a start. I didn’t bring you up to tell fibs.’
He was doing his very best to keep a straight face. Daisy and Jim were looking mortified. They hated getting into trouble with their dad, because he rarely told them off.
‘But I thought you got on?’ said Daisy. ‘Oscar said his mum thought you were lovely.’
‘That’s not the point,’ said Sam. ‘And you need to understand the implications of what you’ve done.’
Daisy and Jim looked at each other.
‘Wait there,’ said Sam, and walked out of the room.
‘He’s really mad,’ said Daisy.
‘I don’t understand,’ said Jim. ‘It’s just not like him.’
‘Maybe he’s embarrassed. Or feels bad about Mum.’ Daisy sighed. ‘We should have left it alone.’
‘We did it for the best reasons.’
‘And I thought something was going to come of it. I really did.’
Sam walked back into the kitchen with a box.
‘This,’ he said, ‘is your punishment.’
He put the box on the island.
Jim and Daisy opened the lid and peered inside.
‘Oh my God,’ breathed Daisy. ‘A puppy. An actual puppy.’
Jim put his hands in and pulled the little dog out. He was beaming from ear to ear.
‘I love her already,’ he said.
‘So you were joking,’ said Daisy to her dad, who was laughing his socks off. ‘You didn’t mind? About the set-up?’
‘No,’ said Sam. ‘I didn’t mind.’
‘Hang on. Oscar just got a puppy that looks a bit like this.’ Daisy frowned. ‘Is this his sister?’
‘Do you think?’ said Sam, looking innocent.
When Alexa had told him she was getting one of Nathan’s puppies, it was the encouragement he’d needed. He was already imagining a walk along the coast path with the puppies, a stop off in a pub by a roaring log fire …