Chapter 8 #2
As she became friends with Phoenix, Georgie, Rory and Owen, she no longer felt intimidated by their rockstar status.
It was impossible to feel star-struck with people you saw across the breakfast table every morning and ate dinner with every night.
But when they played together as a band, they became something else, transforming into the gorgeous glittering creatures she was used to seeing on stage.
Behind her drum kit, Georgie’s gaucheness fell away and she was a strong, confident girl, cool, sexy and completely in control.
Armed with their guitars, Owen and Rory were no longer clownish party animals but assumed an air of authority and gravitas.
And Phoenix was pure rock god, charged with a superhuman charisma, his wiry frame pumping with an electric energy as his distinctive voice soared.
It was as if some fairy godmother had waved her wand and, with electric guitars, drums and amplifiers in place of glass slippers, ball gowns and golden coaches, turned them into one graceful, harmonious organism.
Most of all, she loved spending so much time with Will.
She loved knowing he would be there every morning at breakfast and that they would have dinner together every night.
He usually worked in the morning, shutting himself up in the room he had designated his office to make phone calls and go through the huge bundles of post that regularly arrived by courier.
But in the afternoon he was often at her disposal, driving her to the village or into Florence to pick up supplies, hanging out with her by the pool or taking her to visit medieval villages in the hills.
Sometimes they took a CD of the new songs with them and drove around playing them full blast on the car stereo.
The sound seemed incongruous in this rural idyll, but Kate loved it.
She felt as if she was living in a movie and the music was its soundtrack.
Will joined her regularly in the kitchen when he wasn’t working, chatting companionably to her while she prepared meals, and even helping her sometimes.
She treasured the domestic intimacy between them as they worked together and occasionally allowed herself to indulge in a fantasy that they were married and this was their home.
Though she spoke to Brian on the phone, she wasn’t disappointed when he told her he would be too busy over the summer to visit her in Tuscany.
She wasn’t missing him as much as she should – or at all, she sometimes thought.
But she was enjoying herself too much to worry about what that meant.
* * *
As Will sat at his desk, going through the latest parcel of post that Louise had sent out, his eye fell on a small square envelope marked:
Personal
which hadn’t been opened at the office. Cutting it open, he pulled out a thick cream invitation card.
‘Shit!’ The furrow between his brows deepened.
There was a note with it and he unfolded it with a sense of dread, glancing over the words hurriedly, as if afraid they would hurt him.
Then he put the card and note back in the envelope, pulled open the desk drawer and buried it in there.
He would think about it later, he told himself, slamming the drawer closed.
Hearing water splashing, he got up and walked to the window, which looked out over the pool terrace.
Kate and Georgie were sitting on the bench at the far end of the pool where the water spilled over the edge, chatting together.
It was good to see Georgie happy. It was nice for her to have another girl around, and she and Kate had become friends.
In fact, everyone got on well with Kate.
He was glad now that he had allowed Grace to bamboozle him into bringing her out here.
He himself was glad of her company when the band were holed up in the studio for days on end.
He thought that maybe tomorrow he’d take her to San Gimignano – he knew she’d never been there.
He knew a restaurant just outside the town, that he was sure Kate would love. Maybe they could stop there for lunch.
Suddenly there was an enormous splash as Owen jumped into the pool with a whoop.
He swam up to Georgie and Kate and insinuated himself between them on the bench, his arm resting casually at Kate’s back.
As Will watched, he turned to Kate, his body curled in towards hers, and Kate burst out laughing at something he said.
Then he grabbed her hand and pulled her into the water.
‘Maybe one of the boys in your band will fall for her.’ Grace’s words echoed in Will’s mind as he watched Kate and Owen circling each other in the pool, splashing and laughing. Was that what was happening? And was Kate falling for Owen? She certainly didn’t seem to be missing Brian.
Sighing, he returned to his desk and the post. But his concentration was gone and he couldn’t focus.
He realised he had been staring into space for several minutes, absently tapping a pen on the desk.
Oh, bugger it! he thought, giving up. There was nothing here that wouldn’t keep until tomorrow.
Maybe he’d take Kate to San Gimignano today, he thought, and headed for the terrace.
* * *
In the evenings, everyone gathered in the living room to watch Celebrity Cell Block. By now they were hooked on it. Vanessa continued to pursue Tessa, who clearly wasn’t as up for it as she had wanted everyone to think she was.
Tessa soon managed to piss everyone off and it was no surprise to anyone when her fellow inmates nominated her for ‘release’ at the first opportunity.
The public vote was between her and a clapped-out game-show host, who had made himself hugely unpopular in the prison, by his refusal to take part in the chores, and with the public through his sheer lack of personality.
The day after the nominations, Owen came into the kitchen when Kate was making lunch. ‘Kate, have you got your mobile with you?’ he asked, looking shiftily to the door.
‘Yes.’
‘Do me a favour?’ he asked, pulling a slip of paper out of his pocket and handing it to her. ‘Text “Len” to this number as often as you can – just keep sending it all day.’
Len was the hapless game-show host on Celebrity Cell Block, Tessa’s rival for release. This was evidently Owen’s way of keeping Tessa locked up for the summer.
‘Okay, but—’
‘Don’t worry, we’ll take care of your phone bill.’ He winked and stalked off, punching numbers into his own mobile as he went.
Later on, sending her umpteenth text of the day, Kate was hoping that Owen would remember his promise and make sure her bill was paid because it was going to be astronomical. She had kept her mobile beside her on the kitchen counter as she worked, stopping every so often to resend the message.
‘Hi, Kate!’
She jumped guiltily. She was standing at the sink, rinsing and hulling strawberries and hadn’t heard Rory come in. Glancing at her phone, she was relieved to see that the message was sent and the text had disappeared from the screen. ‘Hi, Rory.’ She smiled at him, then turned back to the sink.
He took a can of beer out of the fridge and opened it, but instead of going away, he stood where he was, drinking. Kate could feel him stare at her. She turned and looked at him questioningly. ‘Why don’t you do something about Will?’ he said suddenly.
‘Sorry?’ Kate was stalling for time. She had heard him perfectly, and he knew it: he was regarding her with amusement.
‘Will,’ he repeated quietly. ‘You’re crazy about him,’ he said matter-of-factly. ‘Why don’t you do something about it?’
Oh God, was it that obvious? Kate was horrified.
She turned back to the sink, busying herself with the strawberries while she considered how to answer him.
She could pretend she didn’t know what he was talking about.
No. Attack was the best form of defense.
‘Why don’t you do something about Louise?
’ she asked, facing him. She had spoken on the spur of the moment, but she regretted it as the shutters came down on his already guarded face.
For what seemed like minutes he said nothing, just gazed at her through narrowed eyes, like Clint Eastwood sizing up the enemy, leaving Kate feeling like a very unlucky punk.
Then, slowly, a slight smile was playing around his lips. ‘Touché,’ he said softly, with grudging respect. Admitting defeat, his smile broadened, the lines around his eyes creasing.
Kate was emboldened. ‘No, really,’ she said, stopping what she was doing and drying her hands on her apron to give him her full attention. ‘Why don’t you do something about it?’
Rory paused. ‘I’m just a scumbag to her,’ he said, and took a slug of beer.
‘I’m sure Louise doesn’t think that!’ Kate was aghast.
‘I don’t mean that’s what she thinks, so much as…
Well, she knows I’m just a scumbag,’ he said, with affected indifference.
But Kate had seen the hurt beneath the gruff exterior – the eyes not able to meet hers, the flinch as he had spoken, as though it pained him even to acknowledge what he felt by saying it out loud.
‘I mean, what would a girl like Louise have in common with someone like me? Louise is really smart,’ he said, the worshipful expression in his eyes again as he talked about her.
‘She’s been to college, she’s got a degree – actually, she’s got two.
I didn’t even finish school – and most of the time when I was supposed to be there I was bunking off.
Her father’s a judge, for fuck’s sake! If I wasn’t in this band, I’d probably be up before him for stealing cars or something. ’
‘But you are in this band, you’re not a car thief and you’ve done something with your life – something really amazing. Anyway, you’re a rockstar,’ Kate continued, when Rory looked unconvinced. ‘That trumps class, surely.’