Chapter 12
‘Fucking asshole,’ Monica states firmly, passing the newspaper to Tim who sits very close beside her as we sit sipping tepid instant coffee out of melamine mugs.
‘He always seemed shifty to me,’ Tim declares after skimming the text. ‘Any bloke that doesn’t want to get lagered in the bar every night should always be considered dodgy.’
‘Oh, Bella, what are you going to do?’ Tara asks after she’s had her turn reading.
‘She’s going to put that fucker out of her head and move on, that’s what.
Keep drinking your coffee, love. It will help with the shock,’ Isla says, pushing my melamine mug under my nose.
‘It’s like your bible says, babe, women are like waves.
This particular wave might have crashed on sharp, pointy, painful rocks, but you WILL get another wave, babe.
’ Isla hugs me close as silent tears stream down my face.
‘What’s going on here?’ Brain asks as he enters the cook tent. ‘ Whoa. Bella, you’ve cloned yourself.’
Isla lets her attention slip from me momentarily, rising from the bench seat to introduce herself.
‘Hi, I’m Isla.’
‘Brian,’ Brain says.
They bring their faces together for the traditional Terrific Tours greeting of a kiss on each cheek. Is it my imagination, or did they linger a little longer than is strictly necessary with those kisses?
‘I’m here to help Bella with her emotional distress,’ Isla informs my driver.
‘Well, technically, you caused the distress in the first place, so you’re really just cleaning up your own mess.
’ I blow my nose, then take a long sip of coffee, hoping it will indeed ease the shock which seems to roll over me in waves, maybe that’s what my book is talking about.
Every couple of minutes I’m fine, like I’ve never met Jock, I’m living the dream on the French Riviera and having the summer of my life.
This ‘fineness’ lasts only for about a minute before memories flash into my brain.
Me and Jock eating peach gelato by the marina while walking hand in hand.
Laughing as we hoovered our way through yet another tower of hors d’oeuvres at Loews.
Sipping champagne on the back of The Rock Star…
‘WAIT A FUCKING MINUTE,’ I say suddenly.
Midday
‘I really had to get out of the campsite, Isla, there’s so much I need to unpack and make sense of.’ I say, taking a sip of tonic water at a small restaurant in Biot. ‘God, that stuff is disgusting without gin in it. If I weren’t working tonight, I’d be having a triple. ’
‘And I’d join you. Tell me everything. Let’s work this out,’ Isla encourages.
I eat a fry, then take a deep breath. I start from the beginning and tell my mirror image everything.
How I only met Jock as there were no other free chairs at Loews and we bonded over our similar upbringing and love of food.
How he’d spoiled me with a night on the back of a luxury yacht.
How it had taken him so long to kiss me for the first time, and how amazing it was when he did.
How the barman told me Jock had been there with a blonde woman and how strange I thought it that a stranger took our photo.
Isla listened without interrupting, a minor miracle in itself, before opening her mouth to say what I hoped would be words of wisdom that would provide me with clarity.
‘That’s all really fecking odd,’ is what she comes up with.
‘But what does it mean?’ I plead. ‘Is the blonde woman his girlfriend, his stylist or both? Does he live on that enormous fuck off boat? Does he even do any painting? I mean, I’ve never seen a single drop of paint on his hands.
Does he even come from Rhu? Has he been playing me the fool this whole time? ’
Isla sits quietly for a minute, another miracle. ‘What does your gut tell you?’ she asks.
‘At the moment it tells me that I need more fries,’ I say, signalling the waiter. ‘It’s time to eat my feelings.’
6.30 pm
‘You don’t have to come with me,’ I assure Isla as she boards the coach in a figure-hugging dress held up by shoestring straps.
‘Of course I do, you need some family support at this emotional time,’ she responds, giving Brain’s shoulder a brief squeeze as she brushes past him. ‘Hi Brian,’ she purrs.
‘Can’t wait to show you the scenic route to Monaco Isla,’ Brain pauses from his pre-drive paperwork to engage with my sister. ‘It’s a challenging drive, but I’ll get you there safely.’
‘Don’t want to go on the motorway tonight then?
’ Sarcasm drips from my voice. At least it’s better than my eyes dripping, I suppose.
I’ve managed not to cry for a good 3 hours.
I’m keen to get through tonight without tissues but I’m feeling very unsure about going back to where I first laid eyes on Jock.
‘I’ll sit right behind you, Brian, so I’m nice and close to Bella,’ Isla says, giving Brain’s shoulder a playful squeeze. ‘Here they come,’ Isla declares as the flock of tourists amble out of the bar and towards the coach.
‘Buckle up, Isla, you’ll thank me later.’ I advise. ‘Hiiiiii, welcome aboard,’ I begin to greet the group as they hoist themselves up the coach stairs and choose their seats.
…
‘How have you worked with Brian all this time and not tried to shag him?’ Isla asks as she watches the green coach disappear from sight, one way, as I watch the passengers head towards the Grand Casino from the other.
‘What? Brain? That Brain? I mean he’s kinda cute but…’
‘But you’ve had internationally famous pop stars fawning over you, of course,’ Isla smiles. ‘Too soon?’ she asks when she sees my face drop.
‘Where are we going?’ I ask my sister.
‘Same place you always go. I want to see the scene of the crime,’ she replies.
‘I don’t know, I want to go back there. What if he’s there? Even worse, what if he’s there with her? I’ve only just stopped crying today, I don’t want to start again,’ I plead.
‘Nonsense. Rip the band-aid off. Surely that’s one of the strategies in your book?’ She says, grabbing my hand. ‘Now which way?’
I feel sick rising in the back of my throat as we push through the glass doors of Loews and enter the bar. It’s surprisingly quiet, and we have our pick of tables.
‘It happened over there,’ I point towards the table for two.
‘Then that’s where we go,’ Isla drags me towards the windows.
I look furtively around the room. Thankfully there is no sign of Jock, or any tall blondes.
The kind waiter approaches.
‘Nice to see you again, madam,’ he says to Isla, then looks at me, ‘or is it you, madam? Merde,’ he laughs. ‘What can I get un duo infernal , you crazy pair, to drink?’
‘I’ll have a red wine, please,’ Isla responds.
‘And I’ll have the same - and lots of snacks please,’ I ask as he places a tiny tier in front of us.
‘Bien s?r,’ he replies before scurrying back to the bar.
‘Do you remember when Da left?’ I ask Isla. It’s not normally something we talk about, but I want to know if my dream was just that, or a long-buried feeling of abandonment resurfacing.
‘Not really,’ she says before taking a sip of wine. ‘I just remember one day he wasn’t there. And he was never there again. I remember that mam cried a lot for a while, and Aunty Jean was around more than usual. And then Matthew was there and mam was happy.’
‘There were three years between Da leaving and Mam meeting Matthew, though,’ I remind her.
‘Maybe I’ve just blocked out a lot of that time? What do you remember?’ she asks.
I pop an olive in my mouth, savouring its saltiness while I stare out the windows at a white superyacht heading towards the marina, ‘mostly the same, I guess,’ I reply.
‘It’s like I remember the feelings more than the actual events.
I remember feeling really scared when Da just disappeared, wondering what had happened, wondering what we had done so bad to make him leave,’ I finish. A lone tear trickles down my face.
‘You know it had nothing to do with us, right?’ Isla asks, wiping the tear away with a paper napkin from the table.
‘Then Lochie did the same thing. And now Jock. It might not be you, but I’m pretty sure it’s me,’ I sob. ‘I’m just going to pop to the loo and sort my face out,’ I force a smile through my tears before hustling out the bar doors and down the hallway to the casino toilets.
When I return to the bar, there’s a man sitting, talking to Isla. My heart stops momentarily thinking it might be Jock.
‘What the fuck are you doing here?’ I ask him.
‘I thought you might need some more moral support,’ Brain replies.
‘You haven’t come to have a drink with me in all the months we’ve worked together,’ I accuse him. I feel irrationally angry, like Jock deserting me is somehow related to my driver never wanting to join me for a drink.
‘You never invited me.’ Brain sounds hurt. ‘I thought you wanted to be alone with your book, so I never asked. I’ll go.’ He stands to leave.
‘Sorry, Brain.’ I get a chair from the adjoining table and drag it over. ‘Stay, please.’
‘You’re sure?’ he asks, unsure if I’ll fire more shots. I nod and indicate that he should sit back on the chair that seems much closer to Isla than when I was sitting on it.
‘Isla was just telling me about the village you’re from. It sounds lovely,’ he says. As I sit and listen to Brain and Isla chat, I wonder why in all these months Brain and I have not gotten to know each other better.