Chapter 14
FOURTEEN
The next morning, it felt like a brass band had taken up residence in Ellen’s head. She closed her eyes against the bright sunshine leaching through the blinds into the bedroom. Why did she drink so much last night?
Yet again, Robert’s side of the bed was empty. She reached across and felt the cold sheets with her arm. This holiday was supposed to have been the beginning of their new life – child-free and ready for their next adventure. Was this all they had to look forward to?
She rolled over onto her side and squinted at her mobile screen.
It was nearly nine. She needed to get up.
Lucy would be out there creating some kind of breakfast magnificence and she couldn’t be up late a second time.
Carefully, so as to minimise the jangling cymbals in her brain, she eased herself from bed and into the shower.
Raising her face to the hot water, she tried to wash away the memories of the night before.
The argument with Robert and the outburst from Abigail.
Was it the drink she’d had that’d made her behave that way?
The horrors. Wasn’t that what her neighbour called it?
The hangover-induced anxiety that you’d said or done something terrible the night before and everyone hated you for it.
Except that she really had roared at her husband, made him angry and had – possibly – made a complete and utter fool out of herself in front of the others.
It had been impossible to keep smiling as if nothing was wrong.
Because something was definitely wrong.
Roughly, she massaged shampoo into her hair, pressing her fingers firmly into her tender temples.
No matter how hard she tried to forget, she just couldn’t shake the suspicion of Robert and Lucy’s clandestine conversations.
For all of Robert’s attempts to disregard her questions as paranoia, it was clear that there was something going on.
For a start, why had he never told her that he and Lucy had hooked up before she met him?
And then there was his reaction to Charlotte’s arrival.
There’d been shock all over his face, pure and simple.
Not surprise at seeing someone new, shock.
Did he know Charlotte? Had he met her before?
Was there something really really awful unfolding here that no one was honest enough to tell her?
Rinsing her hair, she closed her eyes against the power of the water. It wasn’t the steam that burned her face, this heat came from within. Fuelled by anxiety and confusion and desperation for the truth, a Molotov cocktail of shame and anger almost consumed her.
Twisting the temperature dial to cold, she gasped as the icy water dropped like hailstones on her head and shoulders. Joe’s words from yesterday echoed in her ears. His casual reference to Lucy. ‘We have an understanding.’ Was he trying to tell her something that she hadn’t been ready to hear?
She bent over in the shower, blood rushing to her brain. She was going to be sick.
Unloading the dishwasher, Lucy was humming to herself in the kitchen.
In a long white linen shirt, cinched in at the waist with a silver belt that matched her flat strappy sandals, she looked as fresh as a daisy.
She’d easily drunk as much wine as Ellen last night – and had eaten only half as much – how did she do it?
When she turned to face her, Lucy smiled like an indulgent parent. ‘Good morning. I didn’t wake you for breakfast. Robert said you needed to sleep in.’
However she felt, Ellen needed to keep cool and calm until she knew for sure what was going on here. Digging her nails into the palms of her hands, she forced a smile. ‘Yes, I think I had a little too much of the Rioja. How are you so bright and breezy?’
Lucy shrugged. ‘More used to it maybe? How do you feel about doing some shopping today? We could take a walk towards the cathedral, there are a lot of great clothes shops here. We have this chain of vintage clothes shops and you can pick up some really special things there.’
It would be nice to find something to take back for the girls and it might be the perfect opportunity to get to the bottom of what was happening here. ‘That sounds great.’
Robert emerged from the patio, his tan already deepening.
Abigail was like him, she only needed to be in the sun for a couple of hours before she was complaining about tan lines.
Grace would complain in the other direction: on their holidays, she would bemoan the fact she had inherited her mother’s skin which was pale and then red.
However annoyed he’d been last night, Robert was clearly intending to pretend that all was well. ‘Good morning, wife. How’s your head?’
She groaned. ‘Not good.’
Lucy opened the huge American-style fridge and extracted orange juice. ‘Hang tight. I’ve got a great hangover cure.’
An hour later, after juice, toast and eggs sprinkled with some kind of dried herbs and chilli flakes, Ellen did feel a little more herself.
While she ate, she’d watched Lucy and Robert closely for any signs of intimacy, but there were none.
On the contrary, Lucy seemed more focused on Joe, who was pacing up and down outside and talking animatedly in Spanish into his mobile phone.
Whoever he was speaking to, Lucy seemed unhappy about it.
Ellen was desperate to ask her about this ‘understanding’ that she and Joe had.
But it wasn’t a conversation to be had in front of Robert in the bright light of the morning. If at all.
Yawning and stretching, Charlotte wandered into the kitchen in a sun dress and bare feet.
With a face free of make-up and her hair in messy waves, she looked like a goddess.
Beside her, Ellen felt Robert stiffen. Charlotte reached up into a cupboard for a glass.
‘I haven’t slept like that in months. There’s something in the air here. I feel like a new woman.’
Lucy picked up the juice and filled Charlotte’s glass. ‘Good. You work too hard. You need to build in more time for rest.’
It was strange seeing Lucy in mother mode. Her own face was already made up in a subtle but effective finish which made her look closer to her daughter’s age than Ellen’s. Was it any wonder that Robert was paying her a lot of attention?
‘Yes, Mother. I promise I will spend the next two days lying around doing nothing apart from reading and eating.’
‘Actually, we’re going shopping today if you want to come?’
Charlotte had her head in the fridge, looking for something to eat. ‘All of you? Even Dad?’
‘Dad can’t, I’m afraid.’ They all turned in the direction of Joe’s voice. He waved his mobile at them. ‘There’s an issue with the builders at the house in Playa Blanca. I need to be fielding calls for the next hour or two until I get it sorted out. Sorry, everyone.’
Lucy’s voice was as tight as her lips. ‘You said you were going to keep today free.’
He skirted the kitchen counter to pull her to him and kiss her cheek. ‘I know, sweetheart, but it can’t be helped. You know what it’s like.’
Lucy didn’t respond to his kiss. Instead, she looked at Ellen and Robert. ‘Well, we might as well get going before the day heats up.’
Robert rubbed a hand over his chin, scratchy with the last day’s stubble. ‘Actually, I might stay here, too. I don’t want to be the only man crashing the retail party. I’ve brought a book with me that I want to get back to.’
Lucy did not look pleased. ‘Just the three girls, then.’
Charlotte yawned. ‘Do you know what, Mum. I think I’ll go back to my room for a bit. I really am exhausted. Sorry.’
‘Just the two of us, then.’ As she turned to Ellen, Lucy’s eyes weren’t looking for a debate. ‘Make sure you’ve got Robert’s credit card and I’ll take Joe’s.’
Now that Robert and Charlotte were both staying here, Ellen felt uncomfortable about going. But – she’d been so effusive earlier – how could she say that without sounding suspicious?
The central pedestrianised area of Malaga was stunning.
The grey pavements had the same kind of tiles as the forecourt of an expensive hotel.
Tourists thronged the streets with bags of purchases, others sat outside cafés and restaurants or perched on the blocks of stone that formed benches in the centre of the street.
The air was sweet with ice cream and happiness. It really was a beautiful place.
Even with everything going on, she had to acknowledge this to Lucy. ‘I hadn’t realised that Malaga was like this, I think I just thought it was a beach resort.’
Lucy nodded. ‘Me too, until Joe brought me here the first time. I just fell in love with it.’
Ellen could see why. There were so many places to eat and the buildings were beautiful. She’d read in the guide book that Picasso was born here and she still hoped to visit the museum with Robert before they left.
But he was at home. With Charlotte. A girl the same age as his daughter, so why did it bother Ellen so much? What was happening to her?
‘Is Joe always as busy as this?’
‘Yep.’ Lucy pulled a face. ‘He takes on more projects than he can actually do on his own and then refuses to delegate. I tried to instigate a rule that when he was home, he would be present, but…’
She held out her hands as if to say that the evidence was there.
In that moment, Ellen felt a little sorry for her.
But she was curious about what he’d said yesterday.
About their understanding. And whether this concession stretched to Lucy, too.
‘Do you have…friends here that you can be with when he’s not around? ’
Lucy scanned her face, then looked into her eyes as if she was about to tell her something, then changed her mind. ‘Yes. I have friends.’
‘Good friends?’
That was as intrusive as Ellen was able to get. If Lucy didn’t want to tell her about any other men in her life, she could hardly ask her outright. ‘Yes. Good friends.’
Lucy led the way into an expensive-looking boutique and Ellen followed.
A stylish young saleswoman nodded a welcome at Lucy as they entered.
As they wandered in silence for the next few minutes, the air conditioning was cool on Ellen’s skin.
Just as it seemed they were about to leave, Lucy plucked a dress from the rack and held it out to her. ‘This would be stunning on you.’
The dress was black and fitted with tiny cap sleeves. It was not something Ellen would have chosen for herself in a million years. ‘I’m not sure.’
‘Come on. At least try it on.’
There was an eagerness to Lucy which took Ellen back over twenty years ago to when Lucy would be persuading her to go out to the bar or wear a shorter skirt or have one more drink. Now, like then, she capitulated. ‘Okay. But I’m not buying it.’
Lucy led the way to the changing room which was a curtain pulled over a small cupboard and waited outside.
The changing room was small and the strip of mirror showed every lump and bump on Ellen’s body as she peeled off her top and unzipped her skirt. ‘It’s a shame that Charlotte didn’t come with us. She seems a lovely girl.’
The pride in Lucy’s voice came through the coarse blue curtain. ‘She is. I worry that she spends too much time at work though. She should be enjoying herself in her twenties. She’s always known what she wants to do, and she’s focused on getting there. My other daughter is a different proposition.’
Ellen tried to work out whether to step into the dress or pull it over her head. With little room to manoeuvre in here, she decided to try the former. ‘Not as focused?’
Lucy laughed. ‘That’s one way of putting it. Flighty is another. She’s like her father. Everything is about having a good time. But she lacks his work ethic, unfortunately.’
The dress got as far as Ellen’s thighs before she realised that this wasn’t going to work. ‘Are you worried about her at university?’
‘No. She’ll be fine. Girls their age are far more able to navigate their lives than we were.
I don’t know if it’s the Internet or what it is, but they just seem more aware of how to deal with things.
Mind you, she tells me way more than I ever used to tell my mother.
She’ll come home from a party and tell me who is doing what with whom and I sometimes want to tell her that I really don’t want to know.
I think my mother’s hair would’ve turned white overnight if I’d done that. ’
Somehow, Ellen had managed to get the dress over her head and wriggled it down her body. She hadn’t had any conversations like that with Abigail and, again, she couldn’t help but worry about Emily’s influence over her. In many ways, her own daughter was even more naive than she’d been.
Taking a deep breath, she pulled back the curtain. ‘I don’t think this is me.’
Lucy held out her arms. ‘Are you kidding? You look amazing! It takes a decade off you. You must get it.’
Glancing back at herself in the mirror, Ellen tried to see what Lucy could. ‘Really?’
‘Really. Get it off and buy it and then we can get a drink. You’ll knock Robert’s eyes out in that.’
That decided it.
After a glass of wine with Lucy in a small bar, and with her new risqué purchase swinging in a thick paper bag, Ellen did feel younger and more decadent as they arrived back at the house.
She’d almost persuaded herself that Robert had been telling the truth and that all of her suspicions had been the product of an overactive imagination.
But her new-found confidence took a dent when she saw Robert and Charlotte deep in conversation in the same place she’d spoken to Charlotte the night before. It looked serious. But as soon as she pulled back the patio door to join them, Joe appeared from a side room. ‘You’re back! Successful trip?’
Ellen held up the bag. ‘Your wife persuaded me into an expensive purchase.’
He laughed. ‘She’s good at that. And then she complains when I have to work to earn the money to pay for it.’
Lucy had already disappeared to her bedroom, so Ellen just smiled weakly at his joke. ‘I’m just going to show Robert.’
He followed her eyes out to the railing at the end of the property where Charlotte was explaining something which involved lots of arm movements.
‘Why don’t you save it to show him later?
I’ve got an hour before I need to get back on the phone, I want to give you a proper tour of the house.
Lucy always misses out the best features. Shall we?’
The arm he held out to direct her back to the front door obscured the exit to the patio. Was he suggesting this to keep her away from Robert and Charlotte? What were they talking about?
Again, it was impossible to decline without sounding rude. And maybe Joe, with his affable honesty, might let something slip. ‘Sure. Lead the way.’