Chapter 12
Twelve
JESSE
I looked up the venue for Becky’s wedding when Clara had given me the information, so I knew roughly what to expect. However, seeing it on a screen didn’t do justice to the grandeur of the villa as it came into view.
The first thing I noticed were the tennis courts, surrounded by a thick copse of trees that merged into gardens that were so vividly green it felt almost dreamlike. The villa itself was a stark white against the crisp blue sky, and I could see immediately why Becky would choose it as a wedding venue. The last thing to come into focus as I drove up the final part of the driveway was a pool off to the side. I could see a few people bobbing about in the water or lazing on some loungers.
“Holy shit, this place is wild,” I muttered as I pulled in next to a black Mercedes.
“It’s the perfect venue,” Clara said robotically.
Seemingly out of nowhere, Lucy appeared in Clara’s window, black sunglasses on her face and a mesh T-shirt over her bikini top.
“Always fashionably late, Clo-Clo,” she joked as she reached in and pinched Clara’s arm.
“I thought we let that nickname die when our boobs came in, Lucasta, ” Clara replied, dragging out the syllables of what I guessed was Lucy’s full name. The name rang a bell from somewhere in literature, and as Clara got out of the car, I tried to place it. The slam of the passenger-side door jogged my memory.
“Richard Lovelace or Philip Yarden?” I asked as I got out of the car. Lucy pushed her sunglasses onto her head, eyes wide with surprise.
“Clo, where have you been hiding this literature connoisseur?”
“Right across the hall,” Clara muttered. Lucy hit her playfully on the shoulder as she slipped her sunglasses back down.
“It’s Yarden. Dad got to name me, and he really let the literature nerd jump out. Although Mum named Rebecca, so I guess they both did.”
As if she had been summoned, Becky appeared from around the side of the house, a white swimsuit and black cover-up billowing as she walked, carrying a plate of pastries. “You’re finally here!”
“She missed you terribly. Those six hours where you were in different time zones were not good to her,” Lucy joked to Clara.
I moved around to the boot and took our suitcases out as Becky thrust a pain au chocolat into Clara’s hand.
“How was your journey?” Becky asked cautiously.
“No major panics,” Clara answered around a mouthful of pastry. I caught a flicker of surprise cross Becky’s face.
“Glad to hear it. You two are in the room with the hideous wallpaper on the first floor. Seriously, you can’t miss it. Hurry up and settle in. We’re all down by the pool. Our parents are finishing up lunch, so get there quickly before all the good food is gone. Although knowing Darren, he’s probably squirrelled away some food for you to make sure you get your favourites.” Becky was walking away as she talked, Lucy close behind her, leaving us to go into the house and get ourselves settled.
“The wallpaper can’t be that bad, right?” Clara asked once we were alone.
“Is Becky a liar?” I asked as I pulled the handles of our suitcases up and started heading towards the house.
“No, and that’s what’s worrying me,” Clara answered.
* * *
The wallpaper was hideous.
A garish shade of pink along one wall overlaid with what felt like opposing floral patterns on top, one a black outline, the other an almost golden colour. Worse than the wallpaper was the fact that the curtains blended in with it seamlessly.
I was gaining a new appreciation for The Yellow Wallpaper .
“Do you think we’ll start to see a woman in this wallpaper?” Clara asked.
In the short time since we had entered the room, Clara had managed to make herself comfortable on the bed. Her arms were splayed above her head, and I could see the soft skin of her waist.
“I had the same thought. Here’s hoping we don’t,” I said as I did a turn around the room.
It was a pretty standard room. There was a double bed, a wardrobe, and some armchairs that looked like they would swallow you whole if you sat on them. There was also a sofa that neither Clara nor I had any hope of sleeping on comfortably unless we slept in the foetal position all night.
As I walked back towards where Clara was, I found her no longer lying down but instead resting on her elbows. The sun was streaming through the window, and it made her look like she was glowing. I wanted to walk over there and touch her sun-warmed skin.
“Neither of us is going to fit on that sofa, are we?” she asked as her head tilted towards the sun and she closed her eyes.
“It’s unlikely.”
“If you don’t want to share a bed, then I can bunk with Rachel?—”
“No, it’s fine. We can share the bed,” I cut in.
In the grand scheme of things, it was probably better if she did share with Rachel. Sharing a room— a bed —was a dangerous game to play. But it was one I was willing to play if she wanted to.
“Alright, then. Let’s get out of here and into the sun,” she said as she slid off the bed and opened her suitcase. She removed her bridesmaid dress and threw it on the bed before she started rummaging around in her suitcase. She pulled out three bags of toiletries and placed them on the floor with slightly more care than the dress before she seemed to find what she was looking for.
A leopard print two-piece.
“Do you wanna use the bathroom, or can I go in there?” she asked.
“It’s all yours,” I replied.
Clara smiled as she walked past me. “I’ll knock before I come back out.”
The door clicked shut and I noticed that Clara had managed to make quite a mess of the area surrounding her suitcase in less than five minutes.
I picked up her discarded dress, hung it over one of the wardrobe doors, and moved the toiletries onto one of the armchairs before I opened my own suitcase. I hung my suit next to Clara’s dress, then snatched up a pair of black swimming shorts, changing into them quickly.
As I hung around awkwardly, waiting for Clara to knock on the door, I realised I was half naked, so I threw on a white shirt. Three knocks on the door echoed through the room before I could do it up.
“I’m decent,” I called out, even though I felt very exposed.
Clara exited the bathroom casually, her old clothes hanging loosely in her hand by her side. I’d acknowledged that she had picked up a leopard print bikini before she went into the bathroom, but that hadn’t prepared me for what it would look like on her body.
The bottoms were high-waisted and high-legged, which made her already long legs look impossibly longer. The top was all strings and bows and mere suggestion, and it was perfect.
Shit.