Chapter 14
AMBER
My stomach lurches so hard I think I might actually be sick. My instinct is to flee before they see me, but I am glued to the spot by a morbid curiosity to find out what exactly is going on inside that daybed. I don’t have to wait long.
‘Careful! You’ll stain the cushions,’ Simone shrieks.
Dom’s voice, low and husky. ‘Do you want me to do this or not?’
‘I asked you to, didn’t I? It’s no use asking Felix. He never does it properly.’
‘Then keep still!’ Dominic tuts.
Simone groans with pleasure. Another wave of nausea washes over me. This is torture.
‘There you go. All done. And I’ve put some factor fifty on that mole on your shoulder.’
‘You’re a star, Dom. Thank you.’
My face flushes. Factor fifty. Dominic and Simone aren’t making mad passionate love in there. Dominic is applying sun cream. That’ll teach me to jump to conclusions.
I clear my throat. ‘Hey, you two. I’ve just been wrestling with the Gaggia and I won. Want a coffee?’
Dominic appears first, a bottle of Ambre Solaire in his hand.
‘A flat white would be lovely. I’ll come with you.’
Simone steps elegantly down from the daybed.
Her halterneck swimsuit showcases her taut, slim figure.
Though we share the same thick, dark hair, I have my grandmother’s milky Irish colouring whereas Simone has naturally olive skin.
Her cat-like eyes widen slightly as she takes in my maxi dress.
‘Wow, you’re making me feel distinctly under-dressed.
I should have said we only dress for dinner.
’ She laughs, and the sound sets my teeth on edge.
‘Do you want a coffee or not?’ It comes out sharper than I intended and I catch Simone and Dominic sharing a look.
‘A cappuccino, please. You’re an absolute angel. Thank you.’
‘Everything OK?’ Dominic asks as we walk back to the kitchen. ‘You seem a little… tense.’
Should I tell him I don’t like the way Felix makes me feel, the way his eyes rove over me as if I’m a piece of meat, there for the taking?
Even if I do, what’s Dom going to do about it?
Felix is one of his oldest friends. We’re staying here as his guests.
It’s not like we can book ourselves into a hotel down the road.
There aren’t any hotels on the island. There aren’t even any proper roads, just dirt tracks.
The remoteness of the place presses down on me.
‘I’m fine,’ I say shortly. ‘Just a bit tired.’
‘As I remember, you were the one keeping me up all night.’ Grinning, he pulls me close. ‘I keep getting flashbacks,’ he whispers in my ear. ‘Fancy a repeat performance later?’
As usual, he knows exactly the right thing to say.
‘If you behave yourself.’ I grin back, then frown. ‘Does this dress suit me?’
He takes a step back and narrows his eyes appraisingly. ‘It’s very… colourful.’
‘I knew it!’ I wail. ‘It looks terrible, doesn’t it?’
‘It’s fine. Though I prefer you with nothing on.’
Below us, an engine starts up, coughing and spluttering like a seasoned smoker.
‘What the hell is that?’ Dom says.
We peer over the edge of the terrace. A huge yellow digger is lumbering across the building site below.
In the daylight I can see what was hidden by the dark last night: a stack of what look like giant sugar cubes perched on a dusty promontory.
They are piled three high and defy gravity, cantilevered terraces jutting out from every storey.
Even to my untrained eye, it’s some feat of engineering.
Surrounding the sugar cubes are associated mounds of rubble and soil, builders’ pallets piled with stone, tiles and timber, and a variety of vehicles, from dusty pick-up trucks to a small crane.
Half a dozen men in high-vis jackets and yellow hard hats scurry about like worker ants, periodically calling out to each other in Greek.
As we watch, the digger stops, lowers its bucket and gouges out a long, rectangular hole that looks alarmingly like a grave.
‘Must be the swimming pool,’ Dom guesses. ‘Look, you can see where they’ve marked it out. Felix is not going to be happy. It’s twice the size of his.’
‘And they’re going to have much better views of the bay.’ I try to hide my glee. No matter how rich or successful you are, there’s always going to be someone with more money, more clout.
Below, the digger is whipping up a storm of dust as it continues to carve earth out of the parched ground. The commotion is enough to attract the attention of Felix, who storms out of the villa, his face puce.
‘What the fuck?’ he fumes, joining us at the edge of the terrace. His eyes bulge as he takes in the scene below. ‘Right, that’s it. I’ve had enough. I’m going down there to give them a piece of my mind.’
‘Is that a good idea?’ Dom asks.
‘I couldn’t give a flying fuck. I’ll get work stopped on that bloody eyesore if it’s the last thing I do. Look at the size of it! Villa Olympus, my arse. The man’s a fucking narcissist.’
He stalks off, his shoulders tight and his fists clenched by his side.
‘D’you want that coffee?’ I ask Dom, making to leave.
‘Are you kidding? I’m staying here to watch the fireworks. Simone!’ he yells. ‘Felix is about to lose his shit with the builders.’
She appears from the direction of the sunloungers, tying a crochet black coverall around her waist. Her lips thin when she sees her husband stride onto the site.
‘He’ll give himself a stroke if he’s not careful. The doctor’s already told him his blood pressure’s too high.’ She sounds more irritated than concerned.
Below, Felix is gesticulating angrily to a guy with a white hard hat. It must be the foreman. He’s shaking his head and pointing to his clipboard but this does nothing to appease Felix. Snatches of the one-sided conversation float up the hill.
‘…sounds like a fucking jet engine… can’t hear myself think…
the whole bloody villa is shaking and don’t get me started on the dust…
not supposed to start before nine… I don’t care what he says…
you can tell your fucking boss I’ll have him for breach of planning consent.
In the meantime, I’ll slap a noise abatement order on the lot of you. See you in court!’
‘What’s going on?’
I turn to see Willow, barefoot and still in her pyjamas, her hair mussy with sleep.
‘Your father’s throwing his weight around again,’ Simone informs her.
‘What d’you mean?’ Willow leans over the low wall, her eyes widening when she sees Felix squaring up to the beleaguered foreman. As we watch, two workmen drift over, planting themselves either side of him, arms folded, like silent sentries.
‘He’s reminding the poor man how terribly important he is. Oh, and he’s threatening to take legal action to stop the building work because it’s inconveniencing his holiday.’
Felix and the guy are now nose to nose.
‘You need to stop him!’ Willow cries. ‘He’s going to get hurt.’
‘He’s big enough and ugly enough to look after himself.
’ Simone throws her husband a dismissive look, then addresses me, as if I’m the hired help.
‘Bring my coffee to the daybed, would you, Amber? No sugar. I’m sweet enough as it is.
’ With that, she glides towards the loungers without a backward glance.
Anger radiates off Willow. Anger – and fear. Dominic must sense it too, because he pats her on the shoulder and says, ‘It’s OK, sweetie. I’ll go and rescue him.’
She drags her hands through her tangled hair. ‘Thanks, Dom.’
‘Be careful,’ I caution.
He grins. ‘Always.’
‘I hope Dad doesn’t do anything stupid,’ Willow says, once Dominic has gone.
I look sidelong at her. She’s chewing the skin around her thumb.
With her bed hair and her face free of the heavy eye make-up she was wearing last night, she looks a lot younger than her seventeen years and, even though she’s been spiky to me from the moment I arrived, I feel a stirring of sympathy towards her.
‘You know Dom. He’s the voice of reason,’ I say. ‘Your dad’ll be fine.’
Willow sucks in her breath, considering me. Her face hardens. ‘What the fuck would you know?’ she spits. ‘You shouldn’t even be here!’