Chapter 9
‘Are the shades of Pemberley to be thus polluted?’
We became an item – Jamie and Florrie. The rest of the summer was a dreamy, disjointed blur of weekends in London, parties, and lazy days.
Dom didn’t punch Jamie, which surprised me, though probably only because he’d hooked up with Alice at the same party.
We were even. I’d told him the previous Christmas that he wasn’t allowed to go near my best friend because he’d ruin everything. Naturally, he’d done it anyway.
Mum and Dad approved. Jamie cast a spell over the whole family – even Spike became his devoted fan.
The whirl was frothy. I felt like I’d slipped into another life – sunlit, silk-lined.
The Stonehills were rich in a way that didn’t seem real.
Before frozen foods there had been a brewery, and before that, something to do with shipping.
They had the kind of wealth that came with history and eccentricity.
His dad’s Mayfair flat was filled with oil portraits, antiques, and buttery-soft leather sofas that you sank into. His dad wasn’t ever there – he lived with his new family in Scotland – so Jamie and Lily used it. They lived out of suitcases, between Mayfair and their mother’s place in Marbella.
According to Lily, the current wife didn’t like them staying at the flat. ‘We’re not his new family,’ she’d say, with an eye roll.
Lily and I grew unexpectedly close. I’d got over the awe-factor of her beauty and her boho rockstar vibe and found that beneath it she was warm and generous. She let me raid her wardrobe and had even woven me a bracelet from strips of Spanish leather she’d brought back from their mum’s.
She told me about their mum’s long-term boyfriend, Carlos, a property developer of questionable reliability. Jamie didn’t like to talk about him.
At the end of the summer, we flew out to Marbella – the four of us: Jamie, me, Dom, and Alice. It was our last hurrah before university began.
The plane touched down under blazing skies, and we crammed into a taxi. I had my nose pressed to the window the whole way, watching Spain unfold – dry hills, pale buildings, bougainvillea trailing down walls like spilled paint.
We pulled into a circular driveway lined with towering palms. At its centre lay a whitewashed villa that looked like it had been lifted out of a travel brochure. Pink flowers tumbled across trellises. A russet Lab hurtled down the steps towards us.
‘Fino!’ Jamie laughed, taking the full force of the dog’s greeting as it launched itself at his chest, tongue flapping, tail going like a windmill.
‘Lush place,’ Alice whispered to me.
I grinned. I couldn’t believe we were here – actually here – inside the fantasy.
We dragged our cases inside, through a thick, studded oak door and into a courtyard where a tiled fountain burbled softly in the heat.
‘Jamie!’ The voice came sharp and crisp from the far side of the courtyard – female, upper-class, and unmistakably clipped. Jamie peeled off towards a carved Moroccan doorway.
‘Come on,’ said Dom, leaving his case and following.
I was last in. The kitchen was vast and Spanish in style – glossy black cupboards, red-tiled worktops. A huge oak table dominated the middle like a fallen tree trunk. The folding doors at the back were thrown open to another courtyard. A ceiling fan spun slowly, stirring the heavy air.
A petite, deeply tanned woman in a coffee-coloured silk kaftan had her arm around Jamie’s waist. Her eyes were dark and watchful. She greeted Dom and Alice with hugs and kisses – effusive, affectionate.
Then she turned to me.
‘Florence,’ she said, her tone cooler, spine straighter. Jamie had introduced me as ‘Florrie.’ She didn’t use it.
‘It’s very nice to meet you, Juliet,’ I said, summoning my best, most radiant smile.
We kissed on both cheeks. She smelled of Chanel No. 5. I felt something fizz inside me. It was a need to be liked and to win her over.
It was lucky Dom and Alice had come. If they hadn’t, I’d have spent most of the visit alone.
Juliet monopolised Jamie’s time, calling him into rooms for whispered ‘family’ talks.
When he reappeared, it was always later than expected, his forehead creased, voice low, like someone who’d spent the day at a high-stakes boardroom meeting.
He’d find us on our loungers, soaking up the Mediterranean sun, the sea sparkling just beyond our toes.
It took two glasses of wine before he returned to himself.
I didn’t mind because this was just the beginning of our lives together. I was in love. And he loved me.
Carlos arrived on our final night. He floated in for dinner like some Mediterranean Bond villain – white shirt undone to his navel, tight jeans, with slicked-back hair.
Juliet became girlish and giggly. Jamie’s jaw set like granite.
We watched her try to soften him, to ease the tension. She turned her warmth on me, as if being amiable with me might distract him. Carlos, meanwhile, flirted shamelessly with Alice and me across the dinner table.
‘He thinks he’s God’s gift to women,’ Alice whispered. ‘You’d think he’d got a couple of squirrels nesting in all that hair on his chest.’
We left shortly after dinner and headed into the neon-lit wonderland of a beachfront nightclub. When we stumbled back into the villa, it was well after 2am. Raised voices were coming from the terrace. They were fast-talking in Spanish. Juliet’s clipped tones vs Carlos’ bellows.
‘I’ll sort this. You guys go to bed,’ said Jamie.
Dom and Alice headed off up the stairs. Jamie leaned in to kiss me.
‘Eres una perra!’ shouted Carlos.
Jamie’s lips never touched mine. He turned and ran out onto the terrace.
I sat on the stairs, listening to the row continue. Three voices, all in Spanish, a language in which I could barely order a coffee. Their tone was all aggression. I leant my head against the cool plaster wall, wishing for it to end, for peace to reign in the kingdom of Stonehill.
My nightclub buzz was plummeting into the abyss when suddenly Carlos came bursting in from the terrace into the hallway like a raging bull. He caught sight of me sitting in the shadows.
‘Fucking loco. Loco,’ he said, smacking his own skull with the flat of his hand.
His eyes were burning bright. He leaned in. I flinched.
‘La verdadera riqueza está en el corazón,’ he punched his chest. ‘True wealth lies in the heart. This family has no heart.’
He turned and marched out of the front door, slamming it behind him. Heart? It was him who was heartless.
The first fingers of dawn were creeping over the horizon when Jamie finally slid into bed next to me.
‘You okay?’ I asked, curling towards him.
‘Carlos was trying to get Mum to invest in a development in Malaga. He almost convinced her. I stopped him.’
I laid my head on his chest. ‘How long have they been together?’
‘Four years.’
I paused. ‘And she still doesn’t see through him?’
‘She does. But I think she’s scared to be alone.’
He didn’t say much more. Just held me close.
I thought about my own mum – rubber gloves, iron in hand, always trying to keep our lives from fraying. Juliet lived in a villa and wore silk kaftans, but it didn’t look like she was much better off emotionally. Money didn’t stop you from getting hurt.
Jamie kissed me, slowly. The mood shifted. I felt his lips on my neck, trailing lower. His hands on my body.
I woke early the next day. It was our last morning and I wanted to enjoy every second.
Jamie was sound asleep so I threw on my bikini and wrapped a sarong around my waist. When I exited the bedroom, the house was silent.
I headed through the kitchen to the terrace door.
Fino jumped up from his bed and followed me out, across the terrace and onto the beach.
The sun was creeping up into an azure sky as my bare feet crossed the soft, cool sand. The only sound was the lapping of the waves onshore. I slipped into the water and swam out to where a buoy anchored the family speedboat.
Fino did a couple of laps with me before we headed back towards the villa.
I was closing the gate behind us when I heard my name.
Looking up I saw Juliet sitting on the terrace smoking a cigarette, cup of coffee in hand.
She was wearing a long cream silk kaftan and even without make-up she looked stunning.
I gave her my best ‘good morning’ smile and nervously made my way over. I was used to Jamie being with me when in her presence.
‘Good swim?’ she said.
I could see her eyes assessing my body as she plumed out smoke from her lips.
‘Lovely, thank you. It’s so beautiful here.’
She cocked her head to one side. ‘It is. We like it very much.’
The ‘we’ was heavy.
‘Jamie says it’s his favourite place on earth.’
‘Does he? And what about you? What’s your favourite place?’ The question had a hard edge to it, like it was a test.
‘Um, not sure really. There’s a lot of the world I haven’t seen yet. This is my first trip to Spain and I like it very much.’
She took another drag on the cigarette. ‘Do you? How long have you been going out with Jamie?’
Odd question because the way they’d been spending time together I thought she’d know.
‘Since the beginning of summer.’
She sniffed. ‘Not long then. Jamie’s girlfriends never last long. They all love this place, who wouldn’t? But they never get a second visit, because he’s moved on.’
Her eyes were levelled at mine, cold and hard. She didn’t blink. I stood, stunned at her open display of hostility, until Fino gave me a nudge with his nose.
‘Well, that’s between Jamie and his long string of ex-girlfriends. I shall consult with him on the matter. Thank you for the advice, Juliet.’
If she showed surprise, I’d never find out, because I bowed my head and made swiftly for the villa.