Chapter 19
Olivia shunts back her chair a little until it is completely under the parasol and looks across at the manicured gardens from behind her sunglasses.
It is nine in the morning and the sun is already high in the sky, beating down on the grass and ornamental bushes, which are looking parched despite the many sprinklers deployed by the hotel.
Beside her, Tobias signals to a passing waiter that he has finished, the remains of a cooked breakfast congealing on his plate.
How he can eat like that in this heat is beyond her.
Opposite them both, Marcus helps himself to another cup of black coffee.
He is staying down in the resort for the next few days to keep this crucial part of the renovation on track.
Tobias had insisted, even speaking to the management in order to find a spare room for him in their own hotel.
She’s not sure exactly which room he’s staying in, or what he did last night.
But she notices he looks tired this morning, hiding behind his shades, his hand shaking as he lifts the cafetière to top himself up.
Is he hungover, she wonders? Or is this a symptom of some other stress?
He seems to find it difficult to meet her eye today, although it’s always hard to feel truly relaxed in front of others.
Not that her husband ever notices anything, he is so blithely unaware.
Tobias swallows the last of his orange juice – a paltry concession to health – and claps his hands together with finality. Olivia’s shoulders rise a fraction, in spite of herself.
‘Time to go,’ he declares, looking around the table as though they are all following some unspoken schedule.
‘Where?’ asks Olivia.
‘To the site, of course.’
He turns to Marcus, prompting him.
‘Really?’ she asks. ‘Is that necessary? I can’t help feeling you’ll be more of a hindrance than a help.’
She sees Marcus smile as he turns towards the gardens to disguise it.
‘Bill promised me his electrician would have the first fix in place by today. I want to make sure they’re getting the boards up, some plaster on, maybe even start splashing some paint on the walls by the end of the week.
I thought you’d like to see some real progress made before we leave this time. ’
‘Yes, yes, I know. But they have their instructions. I’m not sure what Marcus can do at this stage.’
Tobias looks between the two of them.
‘Got to keep the pressure up, Livvy. Chop-chop!’
‘Oh let him finish his coffee, for goodness’ sake.’
Marcus continues to stare out towards the grass verges like an embarrassed child who knows he is being argued over by his warring parents.
‘Besides, I’d like to discuss some more details about the kitchen,’ she adds.
Tobias grunts.
‘He’s an architect, not an interior designer. You’re not interested in all that fluff are you, Marcus?’
‘Actually, I do need to discuss one or two final ideas,’ he counters. ‘About the flow of movement from the kitchen through to the lounge. And we still need to make a decision on the worktops and floor tiles. Remember, I sent through some samples?’
Tobias throws his hands up in the air as if he has lost patience with the pair of them.
‘Fine, you know this kind of thing bores me senseless. I’ll leave you to discuss your twinkly bits of stone. See you up at the site later.’
Marcus raises a hand in agreement and Olivia reaches for the cafètiere, breathing a sigh of relief at her husband’s retreating back.
‘Doesn’t he ever take a day off?’ asks Marcus under his breath.
Olivia sighs.
‘No, not really.’
Tobias is one hundred per cent focused, whatever he’s doing. Always has been. First to arrive, last to leave. Their friends used to joke that he was married to the job, as though it was something to be proud of. But it’s never left much time for anyone else in his life. Even on holiday.
‘Classic workaholic,’ she says sourly. ‘Sometimes, he even used to sleep in the office.’ Marcus’s face registers a twist of irritation, she notices, before he looks back to the gardens.
‘What did you get up to last night?’ she enquires after a pause, trying not to sound like some kind of jealous lover, or worse, a nagging mother.
‘Long shower and an early night,’ he answers, avoiding her gaze.
Why is he lying to her, she wonders? She has spent enough time around her children and their friends, witnessing their evasive behaviour and shrouded comments, to know. What is it he’s not telling her?
‘And you?’ he asks her in return.
‘Oh, much the same.’ She takes another sip of coffee.
‘I’m going to finalise the let on the old fishmonger’s shop I was telling you about,’ she says with more enthusiasm.
‘The landlord wants to move fast, apparently. Must be in need of the money, I expect. Doesn’t want it to stand vacant for long.
I’m not surprised, given the state of the place.
Maybe you could give me a hand with the interiors at some point?
It will need new flooring, lighting, a bit of a makeover.
’ He smiles at her non-committally. ‘You know, when you have time. The renovation is the main priority obviously.’
He nods, distracted. ‘Where are the kids this morning?’ he says, changing the subject. ‘Bella and Drew?’
‘Oh, I left them both in bed. They’ll be down soon, hitting the breakfast buffet like a swarm of locusts, I should think.’
She tries a smile but he is not looking her way.
‘Is everything all right, darling?’
She says this quietly, aware of the other guests.
‘Yes. It’s just this heat,’ he says, straightening up in his chair and plucking at his shirt. ‘Of course I can help with the shop.’
‘Gallery and studio space,’ she corrects him good-naturedly.
He nods.
‘I’ll take a look soon, when you get the keys. Who’s the landlord, by the way? Do you know?’
She frowns, trying to dredge up a name from the conversation she had with the lettings agent, Beth. The girl had mentioned something about a local family, how the business had been passed down from generation to generation, but she must admit she wasn’t really listening at the time.
‘Ted something or other,’ she says, grasping at the air. ‘Stark, was it? Old fishing family, which makes sense I suppose, since it was a fishmonger’s. Anyway, he obviously has no need of it any more. Charging a pretty penny in rent for it though.’
‘Hmm, I’m not surprised,’ says Marcus with a shake of his head. ‘Prime real estate round here.’
‘Oh look,’ she says, glancing over her shoulder.
‘Here’s the kids now.’ She can’t help but feel joy at the sight of her children, sun-kissed and sleepy-eyed, having obviously just tumbled out of bed with rumbling stomachs.
She gives a little wave and Marcus looks round in the same direction. Abruptly, he stands.
‘Better go. Duty calls.’
‘Oh, but we haven’t discussed the granite work surfaces,’ she says, aware that a note of desperation has crept into her voice. ‘Or those downlighters I wanted.’
He smiles at her wryly.
‘Later,’ he says and drifts off in the direction of the hotel foyer. Both Bella and Drew watch him leave as well, as though they have all been left bereft in the wake of a disappearing celebrity.
‘Hello, you two,’ Olivia says, rallying, as her children take their seats, plates piled high with pastries and fruit. ‘What are your plans for the day?’
Bella shrugs, casting one last forlorn look in the direction of Marcus before she turns back to the table and begins to fork melon into her mouth.
‘Another paddleboarding sesh for me,’ says Drew with his cheeks full, tearing into his croissant. Olivia considers her son’s ravenous appetite and remembers with nostalgia the metabolism of her youth.
‘And you, Belle?’
Her daughter looks up and frowns, mauve shadows revealing themselves under her eyes, beneath the fake tan.
‘You do look tired. Both of you, in fact. Did you go out again last night?’
Her children exchange glances.
‘Just for a breath of fresh air,’ says Bella. ‘Drew went to hang out with the Taco Lads down by the harbour, didn’t you, loser?’
‘Only for a bit,’ says her son, nudging his sister.
‘That’s okay,’ says Olivia. ‘I guess you’re both old enough to be trusted. As long as you look out for each other and stay safe by the water.’
‘I’ve decided I’m just going to chill back here for the morning,’ says Bella. ‘Maybe book myself in for a treatment.’
‘That’s a nice idea. I might join you. We could get facials together or a massage?’
Her daughter looks less enthused but doesn’t demur. Olivia finds her children are quite amenable to her suggestions as long as she is footing the bill. ‘I’ve got to pop into town briefly to do some business but why don’t you enquire at the spa and see what appointments they have free?’
Bella shrugs again in a ‘suit yourself’ way while Drew looks up from his plate.
‘What business have you got to do, Mum?’
‘Oh, sorry, I meant shopping. Nothing important. Enjoy your lesson, darling,’ she adds as Drew stands and dons his sunglasses. ‘Take care out there.’
‘Always,’ he says and she tries to resist the urge to pull him into a hug.
Instead, she turns to Bella.
‘I must be off. Let me know what you manage to arrange.’
‘Sure, will do.’
‘How nice,’ she adds, smiling to herself. ‘I can’t remember the last time I had a beauty treatment.’
Bella snorts.
‘How long have you got, Mum?’