Chapter 18
18
I sit on the beach, on my own, in the dark. It’s not nearly as romantic out here by myself. I’m dressed, but have schlepped the blanket from the barn down here, for extra warmth. It’s actually quite cold at this hour. When I was here with Jamie, I didn’t notice. Without him, it’s freezing.
There’s a gentle sway to the ocean under the moonlight. I’m biding my time. I assume Jamie stalked off to our shared bedroom, and I can’t face going up there. I’ve been replaying our argument over and over again in my mind, trying to pinpoint the moment it went wrong. All I can conclude is that he’s mad this is purely physical, but that’s what we agreed. Not out loud maybe, but … this is Jamie Kramer. Even if he did commitment – which he doesn’t – I live in Scotland, and he lives on the sea. It would never work. I feel kind of insane, not being able to understand. I think I’m probably better off out of it; that it’s better it’s over now. I wonder if we’ll go back to being enemies. That would be such a shame when we’ve been getting on so well. And god, the sex! I’ve never known sex like it.
I’ve not been with many men. I didn’t lose my virginity until university, in Freshers’ Week, and it had been terribly disappointing. In my second year I let a bloke in my Gothic Literature class finger me twice, but again: not great. There was a guy during my Master’s, but after the breakdown nobody would come near me, take all that on – it was hard enough to keep friends, let alone think about boyfriends. And then last Christmas it was such a surprise to discover something between Jamie and me … But I know our lives are just so different.
I drag myself up the steps to the villa, deciding on the way there that I’ll take the sofa tonight, to give Jamie some space. I can’t lie awake watching him sleep. I’m almost at the top when I realise I can smell smoke, and immediately panic that something is wrong with the house – that somebody left the stove on or something. As I approach, it feels warmer, and for a split second I think, Should I even go in there? But then obviously I should, because my family needs to get out if there’s a problem. Which there obviously is, because it stinks of smoke, except it isn’t coming from the villa – it’s coming from behind it.
I slip round the side of the villa and see the outhouse, where Jamie and I were not an hour ago. It’s up in flames, with thick, angry fire licking at the roof.
‘No,’ I mutter, panicked, trying to understand what I’m seeing. ‘No, no, no …’
Jamie wouldn’t have gone back there, would he? He can’t be in there?
‘Fire!’ I shout, but it comes out like a squeak. I’m closer to the front of the house than the back, so I bang a flat palm against the front door, over and over again. I hit so hard and fast that my hand begins to sting. When nobody comes, I bolt round to the back, because I know for sure it’s open. I need help.
As I rush through the kitchen I see that Jamie is on the sofa in the living room, so I dash in there and shake him awake. I don’t have time to think about him being mad at me, and what has happened – that’s beside the point. He needs to wake up, and fast.
‘Jamie,’ I say loudly. ‘Jamie! There’s a fire!’
His eyes open, startled, and for a beat we look directly at each other and don’t speak. Those big grey eyes, framed by eyelashes longer than any human deserves … I’m struck, all over again, by how much he can convey with so little expression.
And then I remember why I’m here.
‘Get up,’ I say, shaking myself of any other thoughts. I’m already backing away to go and wake everyone upstairs. ‘There’s a fire at the outhouse. We have to do something!’
I take the stairs two at a time, banging on everyone’s door, one after the other, before circling back to Laurie and Kate’s room, where Laurie is up now, in his boxers, asking me what the hell is going on. It’s only when I see Kate sitting up in bed behind him, absent-mindedly rubbing her tummy, that I remember she’s pregnant. She should head down to the beach, out of the way of the smoke. She can’t stay here and she certainly can’t go up there, towards the danger.
‘There’s a fire outside, at the old barn opposite. It’s huge. But, Kate – the smoke … don’t risk it, okay? Laurie, we have to do something.’
I don’t hear what he says, because now Mum is up, standing at her door listening to what I’m saying.
‘Michael,’ she says to my dad, ‘there’s a fire. Where’s your mobile?’
There’s no sign of movement from Alex’s room, which we both register at the same time.
‘Get him,’ I say, gesturing to his room. Mum tries his door, but it’s locked.
‘Alex, get up,’ Mum shouts through the door. ‘There’s a fire! Alex!’
I’m halfway down the stairs when Alex’s door opens slightly and a man who is not Alex says to my mother, ‘We’re coming. I just need to untie him.’
Mum turns puce and then deathly pale, and she says nothing as the door is closed in her face, then follows me. I hear her mutter, ‘Jesus. My bloody kids.’
Collectively we race up the hill, where a small fire truck has already arrived, thank the Lord. It’s only when I see the thing that it occurs to me I had no idea what I was going to do when I got there. It’s not like I can fight a fire on my own. I don’t even know the number for the emergency services here. But I couldn’t do nothing, could I? I was in there only an hour ago.
Laurie, Jamie, Dad and Mum and I stand, watching the fire roar and two fire officers survey what’s happening whilst two more fix a massive hosepipe to something near a drain. Alex jogs up behind us and says, ‘What happened?’
‘Fire,’ Dad says.
‘Obviously,’ adds Laurie drily.
Panic rises in my chest: is this our fault? Did we leave a candle burning? More than that, since I was the last one out of there: is it my fault?
‘What can we do?’ I shout, desperate, in the direction of the firefighters and a concerned local couple in their nightwear. The couple blink at me and give a small shrug. Their faces are bathed in the eerie glow from the fire. Is it their outhouse or are they neighbours? I hope they’re insured. This is awful.
‘Is anybody hurt?’ Kate asks, appearing at the side of us all, with a scarf over her nose and mouth. Laurie looks at her with a frown. ‘I know,’ she says, reading his mind. ‘But I couldn’t just stay at the house, Laurie. And the wind is blowing that way.’ She gestures away from us. We’re lucky that Mother Nature is doing us a solid: the smoke is being carried off up the hill and far away, instead of towards the villa.
Laurie puts his arm around her protectively. ‘Okay,’ he says quietly.
I look at Jamie, wanting reassurance from him that this is all going to be okay: the fire, and him and me. He’s watching the flames, but I know he feels my eyes on him. His face flickers enough for me to know that he’s trying his best not to give me his attention. My heart sinks. The feeling I was wallowing in on the beach rises to the surface – thoughts of how I was foolish to think I deserve anything good leaking back into my consciousness. I look back at the fire. It’s pretty bad. Not only have I ruined things for me and Jamie, but I’ve ruined somebody’s actual property, too.
I look at Jamie again and the words leave my mouth before I can register what I’m saying out loud. ‘I thought I blew out all of the candles. I’m sure I did …’
Jamie looks at me this time and I stare at him, hard, willing him to tell me this isn’t my fault. His eyes dart away from me, to my left. To where Laurie is. He quickly looks back, but I can’t help it: I look at Laurie, too. It’s a rookie mistake, because Laurie whips his head back and forth, following the imaginary tennis ball between me and Jamie, busily connecting the dots. His sixth sense has been piqued.
‘Candles?’ Mum asks, trying to catch up. I look at her, then at the ground. Dear Lord, what I wouldn’t do to rewind the last sixty seconds. There’s self-sabotage, and then there’s this: leaking our secret to the very people we agreed would never find out. Fuck!
‘Oh,’ I hear Mum say then. In my peripheral vision I see Kate give a small nod of the head.
Alex – whose friend, I suddenly realise, is nowhere to be seen – hits Jamie’s arm and says, ‘Seriously?’ Jamie rubs at the site of impact. ‘Is that who you were with at the beach the other night?’
The floor continues to be the most interesting thing I’ve ever come across. The fire is relenting now, the firefighters having done their job. But the heat is still in the air. I feel its pressure against my face, making my skin slick and clammy.
‘Veronica,’ Jamie says, ‘Michael, I’m sorry …’
‘Nonsense,’ says my mum, right as Dad asks innocently, ‘What for, Jamie?’
Before he can respond, it feels like Laurie grows six inches in height as he pulls back his shoulders, lifts his chin and steps towards his best friend. ‘He’s apologising,’ Laurie says, and his tone is so strained in its civility that we all instinctively understand he’s about to blow, ‘for FUCKING Florence.’
It all happens fast after that. Laurie launches himself at Jamie like a bullet from a gun, tackling him to the ground, where Jamie pushes him off and tries to get back up. But Laurie is angrier than I’ve ever seen him, and all the stronger for it, so he reaches up and grabs Jamie’s leg, pulling backwards until Jamie is on the floor with him once again.
They tussle, not really landing punches so much as wrestling in the dirt, and it feels like the rest of us are all screaming and shouting for them to stop – except Kate, who has taken a step back and is rubbing her stomach, eyes wide, like she cannot believe what she is seeing. Laurie gets a punch in – not a big one. He hits Jamie’s jaw, but it sounds soft almost, not like the massive thwack that punches make on TV. It’s violent enough to make Dad launch himself on top of them, as if he’s a father separating six-year-olds, not thirty-somethings. He issues a booming command of: Enough!
There’s a bit more scuffling, but with Dad between them now. I can practically see the red mist in Laurie’s eyes, and the shame in Jamie’s. This is the exact thing he feared, and seeing him so sad breaks my heart. Laurie has no right to get involved in any of this, but I can tell Jamie feels terrible that he broke whatever promise he made. And it was me – I made him do that. Kate was right: what did I think was going to happen? It hits me: I’ve messed up, and messed up badly. I’ve put Jamie in a horrible position.
Laurie looks up from the ground and says to us, ‘Jamie’s been messing around with Flo, and it’s like you lot don’t even care! Let me fucking have him. ’
Dad stands, brushing the dust from his knees and as he straightens up he says, ‘No, Laurence, I don’t care. Grow up!’
‘I don’t, either,’ declares Mum, taking Dad’s arm and giving him a squeeze. They look at each other, and it’s a look that says a million things: I love you for breaking that up. Are you okay? What the hell is going on? I’m glad you’re my partner in all this.
‘I’d encourage it actually, Laurie,’ says Kate, and I can tell by her face that she’s livid at him for fighting. She shoots him a look that I take to mean, We’ll talk about this later . And if Laurie is going to argue against everyone’s calm reactions, that single glance stops him. It’s like the wind has been stolen from his sails. He looks quickly from one face to the next, disbelief etched across his features – and, I’d dare say, a level of betrayal, too. He thought everyone would be mad, that he’d done the right thing in ‘protecting’ my ‘honour’, and he’s shocked nobody is backing him up here.
‘I’d say it was pretty inevitable, to be honest, bro,’ Alex says to Laurie.
And Laurie frowns, then nods, understanding the unsaid. I see the look between them. I feel like there’s something I don’t know, something I’m missing. ‘I don’t believe this,’ he mutters. ‘I can’t believe nobody cares.’
Jamie clears his throat. We turn to him expectantly, but when he opens his mouth, he just looks sad all over again, and instead gets up, holds a hand out for Laurie and looks broken once more when Laurie smacks it away and gets up without help. It makes me feel dreadful for him – for Jamie.
‘It’s all over now anyway,’ I announce, trying to smooth things over in any way I can. The manner in which Jamie stormed away from me made it clear we won’t be hooking up again. If that can go any way towards appeasing Laurie and making sure he forgives Jamie quickly, it’s better to spell it out. ‘It was a mistake. We got carried away, is all. It was that holiday feeling, but we both agree it’s stupid. Don’t hold anything against him – it was all me, okay?’
‘Oh, Flo …’ says Mum.
I give her a weak smile, trying to reassure her I’m all right. Because I should be, really. Laurie has no choice except to forgive me, but I am worried about him and Jamie. I never took seriously that ‘pledge’ Jamie made, because I don’t take Laurie seriously. That was a mistake.
‘Sorry again, everyone,’ Jamie utters, still in the dirt, smoke from the embers of the barn smouldering behind him. But before the words fully leave his mouth, both Mum and Dad tell him it’s fine – there’s nothing to be sorry for.
Laurie gives a massive tut. ‘Yes, there is,’ he says petulantly. ‘That’s my little sister, dude. I fucking told you to stay away from her …’
Jamie looks at the ground, shamed.
‘Don’t be an idiot,’ Alex tells Laurie, hitting his shoulder. Laurie scowls. ‘This isn’t the 1600s. She’s my little sister, too, and I couldn’t give a shit.’
‘Come on, lad,’ Dad says to Jamie, putting an arm round him. ‘Let’s find you some ice for that cheek, shall we?’
‘Yes,’ Mum agrees, rounding us all up with open arms. ‘Let’s get out of everyone’s way. It’s all under control now.’
We all start to schlep back down the hill to the villa, but are quickly stopped by the sound of the old man who had been watching the barn burn alongside us, with his wife. He yells in Greek, so I automatically look at Jamie to translate. I think the man’s asking if we have a cigarette.
Jamie listens, nods and then translates. ‘It was a cigarette butt, they think,’ he says. ‘The fire started behind the barn. The grass is so dry, it made its way to the building.’
‘It wasn’t a candle?’ I ask, making sure I understand.
Jamie shakes his head. Goddammit, I’m relieved it wasn’t my fault, but I’ve just outed us to my family for no reason at all, then. I let my anxious thoughts become blurted-out words, and now … this.
Jamie and I end up falling behind the group as we walk. I think everyone is giving us our space. Kate has taken Laurie’s arm and is practically frog-marching him to the villa, and Mum sandwiched between Dad on her left and Alex on her right, linking arms with both of them. I loiter, letting everyone’s goodnights wash over me in the darkness, and I hope Jamie will stay behind to talk to me. There’s so much to say – starting with a proper apology from me, for everything, including the stuff I don’t even understand.
But he doesn’t linger. Jamie heads right inside, straight to the front room. And before I can ask him to stay, the door is shut in my face.