Chapter 10
AMBER
I get ready for bed on autopilot, Barney’s words ringing in my ears. Didn’t Amber know Simone and her boyfriend were the original star-crossed lovers?
No, she bloody well didn’t, I think, as I squeeze toothpaste onto my brush and scrub so fiercely my gums start to bleed.
I try to remember what Dominic said when he first mentioned the week in Pelagia.
He’d described Simone as a ‘uni mate’ whose room was near his in halls.
They’d bonded over cheap wine and The Libertines. And that was as far as it went.
Only, apparently, it wasn’t.
All of a sudden, I recall Victoria’s knowing look on the ferry from Corfu. ‘So you’ve seen photos of Simone, and you don’t mind?’ I hadn’t understood what she was talking about then, but I do now.
And I bloody well do mind.
Dominic should have told me they used to be a couple.
It would have been no big deal. Everyone’s entitled to a past. And he’s forty-five, for God’s sake.
I’d be worried if he didn’t have baggage.
It’s the fact that he kept the relationship from me that stings.
Because keeping it secret makes it bigger, somehow. More significant.
No matter how hard I try not to let jealousy get its claws into me, it’s impossible. Dominic’s lies are as sharp and shocking as the sting of a wasp. Why didn’t he tell me? Why?
I turn on the bedside lamp and slip into bed.
It’s a beautiful room: simple, whitewashed furniture, gauzy cotton drapes and a huge bed with an ornate carved wooden headboard.
There are accents of Greek-flag blue in the shutters, throws and scatter cushions, and the effect is both stylish and tasteful. Classic Simone.
Another thought occurs to me. Did Dominic ask me for a coffee that day at the gym because I looked like her?
A younger, less beautiful, less polished version, at any rate.
Once the thought has wormed its way into my head it refuses to leave, no matter how many times I tell myself that maybe it’s just a coincidence.
Maybe Dominic is partial to tall brunettes.
He’s allowed to have a type, isn’t he? Plenty of men do.
I pummel the pillows, trying to get comfy, but it’s no good.
Every time I close my eyes, images of Dominic and Simone in bed together barge their way into my thoughts.
His hand reaching out to cup her cheek tenderly.
Her tongue tracing a line down his chest towards his navel.
His brown eyes dark with desire as he undoes her shirt buttons one by one.
Her long legs wrapped around his as he slips inside her…
I cradle my head in my hands with a groan. The door clicks open and footsteps pad across the floor. I slow my breathing, feigning sleep. Dominic sits on the edge of the bed.
‘Hey,’ he says softly, smoothing my hair away from my face. ‘Are you awake?’
I shift under the covers and stare at him blearily. His forehead is furrowed, his eyes deep pools of concern.
‘We were worried about you, storming off like that.’
‘I didn’t “storm off”. I was tired and I wanted to go to bed. It’s been a long day.’
He tilts his head, just a fraction, the way he always does when he’s humouring me.
‘Why didn’t you tell me you and Simone used to go out together?’ I blurt. ‘You said you were just friends.’
‘We were. I told you, her room was on the same corridor as mine in halls. She was one of the first people I met.’
‘So why did Barney say you were star-crossed lovers?’
Dominic’s jaw tightens. ‘Because he’s a little shit-stirrer.’
A sliver of hope bursts through the shadows in my mind like a shaft of sunlight through a gap in the curtains, and I cling to it. ‘Are you saying he was lying?’
He closes his eyes briefly, then shakes his head. That bright beam of light is snuffed out like a candle.
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘I didn’t think it was important.’
‘Not important?’ I push myself onto my elbows. ‘Of course it’s important! You know everything about me.’ That’s a lie, but if Dom knew all the sordid details of my past he wouldn’t have given me a second glance that day at the gym.
His deep, long-suffering sigh makes me feel like a wilful toddler who’s refusing to eat her greens.
‘What do you want to know?’
I hear Gran’s voice in my head. Be careful what you wish for, Amber, love. But not knowing is worse, I silently retort.
‘When did you get together?’
‘Um, I don’t remember. Sometime during freshers’, I think?’
I feel another jolt of jealousy. I was seven the autumn Dominic started university. While he was bouncing from pub to pub during an alcohol-fuelled freshers’ week, I would’ve been tucked up in bed dreaming of my two newest obsessions: Bratz dolls and Finding Nemo.
‘And how long did it last, this fling you had with Simone?’
I’m holding my breath as I wait for his answer. It’ll be a week or two, I think. A couple of months, tops. A convenient fling while they both found their feet. Friends with benefits. A brief dalliance.
Dominic exhales through his teeth, his breath tickling my cheek.
‘Look, are you sure you want to know all this?’
‘I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t, would I?’ My voice jars in the carefully curated calm of the tasteful bedroom.
‘We split up the summer we graduated.’
And there it is. Barney’s verbal hand grenade exploding in my face. It wasn’t a fling, it was a committed, long-term relationship. Three years. Three years! And I knew nothing about it. Not a thing. Heat builds across my chest and travels up my neck to my face. I realise Dominic’s still talking.
‘It wasn’t working. Simone took a job in Hong Kong and I started on the graduate scheme at Deloitte.
We didn’t see each other for five years.
Then, she met Felix. Hannah and I used to go on double dates with them.
’ Hannah is the long-term girlfriend Dom has told me about.
They split up amicably a couple of years ago.
‘I gave a reading at Simone’s wedding. We’re friends.
That’s it. There’s nothing to get worked up about. ’
‘I am not getting worked up,’ I huff, though we both know it’s a lie. ‘But if it’s ancient history, why hide it from me?’
‘I didn’t.’
‘Er, you did. And what was all that crap about you and Simone being able to read each other’s minds?’
‘It was a trick. We worked out a system back at uni. Did you notice me flexing my knuckles? That’s our tell for a Queen.
A tug on my right earlobe means it’s a spade.
That’s how Simone knew I had the Queen of Spades.
If you’re confident enough, people believe you.
They can’t see what’s going on right in front of their noses.
’ He pauses, rubbing his six o’clock shadow.
His tanned face looks sallow in the opaline glow of the bedside lamp.
‘Perhaps we all want to believe in a bit of magic. Whatever the reason, everyone was always one hundred per cent convinced we were telepathic.’
‘How very cosy.’
Dominic’s eyes narrow. He reminds me of a judge at a family court hearing to decide whether my future lay with Mum or in care. Aquiline nose, high forehead, steely-eyed. Patrician. Peremptory. Pompous.
‘Don’t be bitter, Amber. It really doesn’t suit you.’
His voice, as polished as Felix’s whisky decanter, makes me bristle.
‘And don’t lie to me,’ I hiss back.
I throw off the sheets and stomp across the bedroom to the chair I’d left my clothes on.
‘Where are you going?’ Dominic asks as I pull the T-shirt over my head and haul up the crumpled linen trousers.
‘For a walk.’
‘Now?’
‘It’s not that late.’
‘It’s gone ten.’ He runs a hand through his hair and pushes himself to his feet. ‘I’ll come with you.’
‘I don’t want you to.’
‘Please, Amber. You’re upset. It’s dangerous to go wandering around the island alone at this time of night.’
‘I don’t need my hand holding.’ I grew up on the South Langley Estate.
I’m sure I’ll be perfectly safe on Pelagia.
Dominic opens his mouth, about to speak.
‘Don’t you get it?’ I cry. ‘I want to be on my own. All this—’ I wave my arm at the pristine white walls, the 400-thread Egyptian cotton sheets and the wall art that looks like a pre-schooler’s attempts at finger painting but probably cost my entire year’s salary. ‘It’s too much. I can’t breathe.’
Emotions play across his handsome face. Bewilderment. Hurt. Irritation. Irritation wins. He shrugs. ‘Suit yourself.’
Fighting back tears, I pick up a cardigan, slip on my Converse and yank open the door. Willow is standing right outside our room, her hands in the pockets of her shorts, a smirk on her face.
A chill runs through me. She must have heard every word.