Chapter 26
Olivia and Bella emerge from the hotel spa; faces rosy and slick, feet smooth and buffed, their toenails shiny in their flip-flops. Olivia has chosen a pretty coral shade while Bella has opted for French tips, a look which she declares is ‘eating’ every time she glances down to admire her feet.
‘Mum, can I have a super juice and drink it on the terrace?’
‘Sure, I’ll join you as long as we can sit in the shade.’
Bella tuts at this but says nothing. She is playing nice while Olivia is paying the bill.
‘Let’s compromise,’ says her daughter. ‘There’s a couple of sun loungers over there. I’ll pull mine into the sun.’
‘As long as you put some of this on,’ says Olivia, reaching into her bag and producing a bottle of sun cream.
‘No way, it’s factor 50, mother. I might as well sit inside.’
‘Please, Belle. You have your father’s skin tone. You’ll burn.’
‘I’m not plastering myself in that masonry paint,’ her daughter replies with a huff.
‘Oh look, here’s your brother,’ says Olivia, spotting Drew sauntering across the gardens towards them.
He seems to have a more relaxed gait these days, she notices.
It could almost be described as a swagger.
His nose bears a red stripe where he has caught the sun but she decides not to say anything.
He looks so happy and healthy after all.
‘Can I get in on that?’ he asks, approaching the sun loungers, overhearing Bella as she orders from the passing waitress.
‘Please don’t talk like that, darling. We’re not American,’ says Olivia. ‘And yes, of course. You must be thirsty after your lesson.’
‘Mum, it was so good. Brad took us all the way out and around to the other side of the bay this time. You can see so much more. There are some awesome houses – ‘Millionaire’s Row’, Brad calls it – with their own private beaches and wharfs.
He was also telling me about how he and his mates are getting together for the Bank Holiday fireworks on Saturday night.
They know some great places where you can watch them from, away from all the tourists followed by late-night beach parties as well. ’
‘I know a pretty cool place where you can watch the display too,’ pipes up Bella. ‘Nice and private and a great view,’ she says with a laugh.
‘But I thought we’d all be watching the fireworks as a family,’ wails Olivia with disappointment.
‘Oh, we can still have dinner together,’ says Drew. ‘But I was hoping to go out with some mates afterwards.’
‘You mean the Taco Lads,’ says Bella with a snort.
‘Why, who are you going to be with, sis. A hot date?’
Bella gives him a kick and shoots him a warning look.
‘I might have plans,’ she replies coolly. ‘I haven’t decided yet.’
‘Oh,’ says Olivia despondently as the waitress arrives with three glasses and a pitcher of bright green juice, which her children fall upon greedily.
‘Thought you and Dad would be watching it from the hotel anyway,’ adds Drew. He takes a huge draught of the juice, slaking his thirst. ‘Won’t want to be rubbing shoulders with the riff-raff in town.’
She frowns but doesn’t correct him.
‘All right, well I can’t force you I suppose. Just make sure you’re careful, wherever you do end up watching.’
Bella extends her leg in the air to admire her new pedicure again and then crosses it over the other one, taking a sip of her drink.
‘Chill, mother. It’s an organised local display in the arse-end of nowhere. We’re hardly watching the ball drop in Times Square.’
‘Belle,’ reprimands Olivia. ‘I just want to make sure you stay safe, that’s all.’
‘No worries, Mum,’ says Drew with a little placatory pat. ‘Always.’
That night, Olivia is slowly wending her way along the road into town.
She has allowed the kids to choose the restaurant tonight and is somewhat dismayed to see that they will be eating in a glorified burger bar.
She wouldn’t mind, but the prices are on a par with some of her favourite restaurants.
And if she must eat meat, she would much rather be cutting into a nice rare steak served on a proper plate with cutlery.
Instead, she will be eating with her hands and probably getting food all over her face; two things she would like to avoid, especially as Marcus will most likely be joining them again.
Her heart sinks. Not because she doesn’t want to see him – plus she doesn’t like to imagine him eating by himself – but because it’s even harder not being alone together. She could hardly refuse though when Tobias came home and told her the plan.
He had arrived back at the hotel in a foul mood.
Apparently there had been another scene at the property because the kitchen delivery had turned up early – an oversight she had to shamefacedly admit to being her fault.
But she’s secretly pleased that things are coming on apace.
This is her and Marcus’s dream kitchen that is being installed, after all.
‘Do they offer anything other than burgers?’ she asks into the heavy evening air.
The temperature barely seems to have lowered despite the sinking sun and it feels like they are walking through treacle.
She hopes this place has a sea view and a terrace with some air.
She visualises a hot smoky grill with poor ventilation and winces.
‘Well, I for one am looking forward to it,’ says Tobias in a half-shout, several paces ahead. She really wishes he wouldn’t insist on striding forward all the time, as though she and the kids are underlings. ‘I need to eat something bloody, well … bloody,’ he adds.
‘But what about your cholesterol?’ she calls.
‘Too late,’ he returns. ‘My BP must be sky high after today. What a circus! And you and Marcus weren’t much help, between you. Messing things up!’
‘Oh, it’s fine. We have plenty of space to store the kitchen and like you said, the electrician has done the main things. Once the plaster is in place, we can start installing, can’t we? It’s going to be so beautiful.’
‘Yes, well I could have done without Mr and Mrs Nosy Parker from the B & B getting involved. ’Fraid I gave them short shrift.’
‘You weren’t rude were you?’ says Olivia, concerned now.
‘Sent them off with a piece of my mind,’ confirms Tobias with a laugh. ‘Still, glad it’s all over now and we can crack on.’
‘Please don’t make enemies, Tobias. I’m the one who’s got to live here, remember?’
Her husband stops short.
‘Well, we’ll both be staying here,’ he says haltingly. ‘Here and there, anyway. When time allows,’ he qualifies.
‘Yes, yes of course.’ She forgets that she hasn’t told Tobias her future plans yet and bites her lip nervously.
It appears they are heading towards the end of the harbour. A couple of temporary-looking marquees have been erected, housing a large open grill and mini-kitchen with long wooden tables and benches set up on the concrete outside. Communal dining, thinks Olivia with a shudder.
‘This is it,’ calls Bella.
‘Nice one,’ adds Drew. ‘I saw this place on socials. It sounds excellent. Best burgers outside London, according to The Guide.’
‘Who wrote that? Some Londoner?’ scoffs Tobias but he rubs his hands together.
‘Honestly, it’s barely more than a barbecue and some garden furniture,’ complains Olivia. ‘They really know how to make the most of the tourist trade down here, don’t they?’
But no one is listening. Olivia feels her body sag as the others press on without her.
As she hangs back, she casts one last covetous glance towards the other restaurants on the seafront and she notices a couple sitting together on a bench in the dusky half-light.
She can only see them from behind but she recognises their dark silhouette.
It is the woman who gave her the weave the other day – Mila, she was called.
Olivia had commented on what a pretty name it was while the woman worked on her hair.
She reaches for the twisted coloured threads and remembers the long dexterous fingers, the shifty, guarded look.
Yes, it’s definitely her, she decides, as the woman turns to the side in profile and leans her head on the shoulder of the man sitting beside her.
It must be her partner, Olivia presumes.
In fact, it is the man, Petras who started working on-site at the renovation, she’s sure of it.
She can hear the low rumbling sound of their conversation, foreign and obscure, but she can tell it is affectionate, easy and tender.
They appear to be sharing a cigarette, just the one between the two of them, and something about it is sweet and adolescent despite their age.
Suddenly, Mila cries out in delight, her hands lifting in surprise as Petras presents her with a small gift.
She looks like a little girl, excited and enamoured, and she leans over and kisses him effusively on the cheek.
Olivia can’t tell what this love token is but Mila clutches it in her hands like a rare jewel.
Then she twists it open and applies a small wand to her face, painting her mouth with it.
She puckers up to Petras, pouting, showing off her glossy lips and he applauds.
‘Livvy. Get a move on, would you?’ comes the summons from her husband across the soft breeze and Olivia must abandon her people-watching for now. Duty and burgers call.