Chapter 4
Chapter Four
H e leaned against the bar, contemplating ordering a nice cool Sagres.
It was just after seven and he’d barely touched the dozen urgent things on his to-do list, let alone solve the six imperative should-have-been-sorted-yesterday problems. A headache danced around his temples, threatening to squeeze harder.
He’d missed lunch and was more than ready for dinner, although that wouldn’t be for another hour and a half.
But there wasn’t much more he could do today.
He’d go through the books after dinner this evening but in the meantime, the restaurant was fully booked and three new sets of guests had checked in.
‘Ah, Felipe.’ Inês appeared with the new hire at her side. ‘Can I hand Rebecca over to you? I’m going home and I haven’t had a chance to tell her about her other duties. Would you mind doing it? You don’t look busy.’ She gave him a sarcastic smile.
At the sight of Rebecca, Felipe perked up. Her challenge and their exchange over breakfast this morning had made him feel more alive and energetic than he had done for a while. ‘I’d love to.’
‘Good, I’m going home. Some of us have put in a full day’s work.
Bye, Rebecca, I’ll leave you to it. Do you remember where the yoga mats are stored for the morning?
And what the combination lock is to open up the gym?
And don’t forget to put towels out in the gym.
I’ve ordered a uniform for you. Make sure you wear it as soon as it arrives.
’ Felipe bit back a smile at his bossy sister.
She never believed anyone could do a job as well as she could.
It had taken him a while to persuade her that additional help on the spa side of the hotel would be of benefit.
Rebecca, clearly unfazed by Inês’s control freakery, tapped her phone. ‘All in my notes, don’t worry.’
‘Right,’ said his eldest sister reluctantly. ‘I’m going home. Garcia promised to cook dinner tonight, although we’ll see.’
‘Have a good evening, Inês,’ he said.
‘Huh,’ she replied with a disparaging sniff. ‘It’s all right for you, you’ve got M?e and the girls running around after you. You don’t have to lift a finger.’
He grinned at her. ‘And that’s the way it should be.’ He winked at Rebecca.
Inês huffed out a sigh and hurried away.
Rebecca watched her and he saw the polite facade drop. She looked a little tired and bemused.
‘How was your day?’ he asked.
‘There’s a lot to take in,’ she said. ‘I think my brain is a little fried.’
‘Fancy a swim at the beach?’
‘A swim?’ Rebecca’s face lit up. ‘Oh yes, that sounds like bliss. I haven’t been to the beach yet.’
‘Meet you back here in five?’
‘Done.’ She beamed back at him and darted away before he could warn her it was a bit of a walk down there.
And five minutes later, with no fuss, there she was, a tote bag slung over her shoulders, her hair swinging in a swishy ponytail and trainers on her feet.
‘What are you smirking about?’ she asked as she caught sight of the look on his face.
‘I’m impressed.’ He tapped his watch. His cousins would have taken at least three quarters of an hour to decide which bikini to wear, whether the sunglasses they chose were right and if their make-up would survive.
And although Ana wouldn’t fuss about what she looked like, she would meticulously round everyone up, making sure they had everything they needed.
You could always rely on her to have a spare towel, extra suncream and an emergency hat.
Rebecca scrunched up her face, a look of disparagement in her eyes. ‘Puh-lease. Don’t tell me you’re one of those men that subscribes to the theory that it takes women forever to get ready.’
He held up his hands in surrender. ‘Never.’
‘Good,’ she said with a brisk nod. ‘Now lead on.’
She matched him stride for stride as they walked down the slope to the winding path that led down to the beach. He inhaled the fragrant lavender that hedged the path and buzzed with busy bees. He loved this place, although it had never been his intention to stay.
As if she’d been reading his mind, she asked, ‘Have you always lived here? Your English is incredible.’
‘I went to the international school here. Then university in the States.’ He kept his explanation deliberately short. ‘Being fluent is very handy.’ He flashed her a flirtatious smile to distract her from any further questions.
‘I bet it is.’ She rolled her eyes and laughed.
‘How about you? This is a departure.’
She raised an eyebrow.
‘I read your application.’ He shrugged. ‘I was in the office. I was bored.’
‘You need to get out more if that’s your entertainment.’
‘Oh, I get out plenty, don’t you worry.’
She laughed again. ‘Yeah, I bet you do. Having all this must be amazing.’ She spread out an arm to encompass the view, but he didn’t miss the fact she’d avoided answering his question. ‘Does your family own this land?’
He paused and turned to look back at the building.
‘The main house was always the farmhouse, built by my great-grandfather. Everything is grown here on the farm or the sister farm Quinto do Marmelo, which is about twenty kilometres away. It was my grandfather’s idea to create the hotel in the second building you see today.
’ He pointed to the long, low building, with its two-storey block at one end, painted white, with the windows outlined in the traditional deep blue so common on the Algarve.
‘The restaurant was an extension. It was my father…’ He raised his head and looked upwards, something he did whenever he talked about him.
He hoped his father was looking down on him and was proud of him, of what he’d achieved.
‘…who decided to embrace agro-tourism. He was one of the first farmers in the region to do such a thing.’
‘It’s beautiful and a wonderful location. It seems… a happy place.’
Felipe nodded and he swallowed the lump. ‘It is now.’
Rebecca looked at him, but she didn’t probe, for which he was grateful.
Above them, birds chattered and flitted from branch to branch in the tall Mediterranean pines, the scent of which surrounded them.
They hit a sandy path weaving through the trees to the clifftop, where they came to a halt. Felipe smiled. It was a sight that never failed to tug at his heart.
‘Come,’ he said and led Rebecca to scramble up the sandy bank, riddled with tree roots and half-hearted tussocks of dried grass, onto the wide clifftop.
He stood for a minute, taking in the colours, where the dark rich umber of the clay soil and the paler sandstone met against the pure azure blue of the sky in a glorious, brilliant collision of intense colour to provide one of the most majestic views of the ocean along the coastline.
‘Wow! The colours!’ said Rebecca.
‘Home,’ said Felipe, remembering why he loved it here, even though his choices had been taken away from him. There was nowhere quite like it.
They stepped a little closer to the edge, and Felipe put a warning hand on Rebecca’s arm. ‘Don’t get too close.’
Beyond the cliff, the sea stretched far and wide across the panorama. Felipe turned to point left. ‘Falésia beach and the Atlantic. There’s nothing between us and America. That way along the beach is Vilamoura, and the other way Albufeira.’
The long golden beach stretched out as far as the eye could see before it bent away around the cliffs.
Around them a brisk wind carried the scent of the sea and the slight sting of sand. Although it was early evening, the sun still shone brightly and its rays danced and weaved on the waves rippling into shore.
‘It’s different every day. The Atlantic is unpredictable. Sometimes it can be a perfect, still day here, but the waves are big and crash on the sand. Other times, it’s so flat and calm you can barely see a wave.’ He gave her a flirty wink. ‘As changeable and mysterious as a beautiful woman!’
‘Ugh, Felipe!’ She threw back her head with a laugh. ‘Do those lines ever work? I have two brothers, you know.’
He shrugged, his eyes dancing with mischief. ‘What can I say? Maybe I have more charm than your brothers.’
‘You’re certainly as full of yourself as they are,’ she retorted.
‘I have to be. I’m surrounded by women– two sisters, three cousins and my m?e .’ He wiped imaginary sweat from his brow. ‘It is a very hard life, you know.’
‘I’m sure.’ Rebecca grinned back. ‘I seem to recall my brothers never lifting a finger at home, whereas I was expected to pitch in and help.’
‘Isn’t that the way it should be?’ he asked, his eyes flashing with humour.
She elbowed him in the ribs. ‘You wouldn’t be a male chauvinist by any chance, would you, Felipe Rebelo?’
‘Possibly,’ he said with a quick, casual grin that belied how tough he’d found it in the early days, looking after and supporting his mother, young cousins and his sisters before they were married.
He’d been twenty when his father and uncle had died.
More than a third of his life had been focused on the success of the hotel, to ensure that it provided a home and a living for the whole family.
Rebecca rolled her eyes and he frowned briefly. Like most people, she had no idea.
‘I thought you were taking me to the beach for a swim,’ said Rebecca, breaking his reverie.
‘Come on then.’ They walked back along the cliff path to the head of the wide wooden staircase that led down to the sandy beach below. An imp of mischief nudged him and, remembering this morning in the pool, he suddenly yelled, ‘Last one in is a loser!’
Before he’d finished the sentence, he took off, clattering noisily down the steps, a few seconds ahead of her.
‘Cheat,’ squealed Rebecca behind him and, as he’d known she would, she came thundering down the steps hot on his heels, racing after him.
He heard her feet thudding on the wooden treads behind him and he increased his speed, his heart pumping, and laughing as he threw a quick glance at her over his shoulder.