Chapter 20
CHAPTER 20
Rey and Sophie were having brunch at the beach hut he’d bought on a wilder stretch of shingle to the west of St Leonards.
‘I wanted you to be the very first person to enjoy it with me,’ he said, putting rashers of bacon into a frying pan on a camp stove. ‘They only finished painting it on Friday and I dressed it yesterday. Do you like it?’
‘Like it?’ asked Sophie, leaning back in the canvas chair, her face turned towards the morning sun. ‘It’s a little bit of paradise.’
‘An old shed on a pebbly beach, but it weirdly works, doesn’t it?’
‘It’s so peaceful,’ she said, leaning back, her arms behind her head. ‘I know I’ve got the beach just down the cliff path from the house, but this somehow takes it to another level. I feel like my blood pressure dropped the moment I sat down in this chair and even more so when you handed me this excellent mug of tea.’ She took a sip.
‘And how is your blood pressure these days, darling?’ asked Rey, poking the bacon with a spatula.
‘It’s pretty good,’ she said. ‘It’s great having Tamar and Beau staying.’ She watched him managing to squeeze the rest of the bacon from the packet into the small frying pan. Then he took some rolls out of a bag at his feet and buttered them lavishly before tucking the cooked bacon rashers inside, four in each roll, and passed one to her.
‘Ready for more tea, ma’am?’ he asked. He had a second camp stove set up next to the frying pan, a bright red kettle sitting on it.
‘I’ll hold off until after I’ve had a dip. The tide is nice and high now. Will you join me?’
‘Is this the Maldives?’
Sophie shook her head.
‘Then, no,’ he said. ‘And even there, I only paddle. I’ve survived this long without ever swimming in the sea and I’m happy to continue that way.’
‘You’re missing out on a wonderful thing,’ said Sophie. ‘And it’s weird.’
‘Not if your parents grew up in the Punjab,’ he said, filling another roll with bacon. ‘It’s a day’s drive from Amritsar to the nearest coast, longer on a train, and even in this country, I didn’t grow up with buckets and spades like you did. Lots of lovely picnics, though.’ He patted his tummy, smiling broadly.
When Sophie got back from her swim, Rey wasn’t there. He’d left the Sunday Times on her chair with a note scrawled across the top saying: Please hold the fort. Gone for emergency donuts .
She shook her head. She’d brought a cake, but there was never enough food for Rey.
She thought about stretching out on his sun lounger for a while, the sun was hot enough, but doing nothing was never a good option. It left too much space for thoughts to come in.
Opening the paper, she flicked through the magazine to the food, then picked up the Style section. On the contents page she noticed a striking jewelled ring in the form of an eye, with a diamond drop as a tear falling from the corner. She made a mental note to show it to Beau when she got in. She had her own copy of the paper at home.
She glanced at the newsy sections at the front and then leafed through the pages until she came to a picture that made her pause. It was of a woman standing in a chic kitchen, holding up her hands to show some rings. Nothing outlandish, but there was just something about the woman’s face.
She was familiar, in a way that gave Sophie a deep sinking feeling. Could it really be that woman who had shown up at Matt’s funeral? The one Sophie was fairly sure had been the Juliet he’d talked about – it had been her name, when Rey asked her.
Swallowing hard, she read the title and introduction to the piece.
RARE GEM
Self-trained jewellery designer Juliet Mylan, who broke all the rules with her dazzling Giuliette brand mixing energy crystals with precious gems, shares the story of her path to global success.
Sophie felt sick. No longer just a horrible concept, here she was in full technicolour.
Sophie’s eyes went back to the picture. The woman looked much more beautiful than she had at the funeral. Of course, she would have had full hair and make up for a shoot like this, but she really was stunning – yet Sophie could still see that she looked a little bit like her. The colouring – dark blonde hair, blue eyes, darker skin than a classic English rose – and something about the bones of the face. Sophie’s heart was beating so fast, she felt quite faint. She turned her head and vomited onto the shingle, just as she heard Rey’s voice calling out to her. He was nearly back at the beach hut.
Thinking as quickly as she could manage, Sophie stuffed the magazine into her beach bag under the wet towel and looked up just as he came through the gap between the huts. She couldn’t let him see that article. He would immediately recognise Juliet as the woman Sophie had asked him to remove from the wake. He would want to talk about it.
Not needing to put on an act, she sat back in her chair with her eyes closed, hoping she looked as bad as she felt.
‘I got chocolate, jam and custard,’ said Rey, dropping a shopping bag onto the beach. Then he saw the state of Sophie, who had started retching again.
‘Oh, no!’ he said. ‘Are you sick? I hope it wasn’t that bacon.’
‘I’m so sorry, Rey. I think it was something I had last night. I think I need to go home.’ She had to get back there as soon as possible to hide the copy of the magazine that was in the house. Beau must never see it either. Even though he was unlikely to make any connection with a random woman who’d been at his father’s wake, she knew that as soon as he saw that ring he’d want to know more about the woman who designed it.
She also wanted a safe place to study the article in depth.
Sophie got into the house and glanced into the sitting room. Beau and Tamar were sprawled on the sofas reading the papers – and Beau was holding the Style section. She thought she might vomit again.
‘You’re back soon,’ said Beau. ‘I thought you were going to be there until sundown. We were thinking to come and join you with some chilled beverages.’
Sophie tried to think. She had to distract them.
‘I got sick,’ she said. ‘I think I must have eaten something off. I’d better lie down.’
‘Mumpty,’ said Beau, jumping to his feet. ‘What can we get you?’
‘I think I’d like to lie on the sofa, if you don’t mind me turfing you off, and I’d love some water and some fresh ginger tea, if you don’t mind making it, Tamar. And, Beau, darling, could you pop up to my room and get my cashmere blanket?’
The minute they were out of the room, she grabbed the magazine and stuffed it in her beach bag with Rey’s copy, before lying down again and closing her eyes.
When they came back with her requests, she told them she’d changed her mind and would go to bed after all and headed up there.
Beau sat down to carry on reading the Style section, but couldn’t find it. Weird. He’d definitely left it on the sofa when his mum had come back.
‘Have you seen Style , Tamar?’ he asked. ‘Is it mixed up in that pile there?’
Tamar had a look through all the papers heaped on the ottoman and couldn’t find it. Beau was puzzled – and irritated. He’d been reading a really interesting piece about the jeweller who had started that brand Giuliette. He loved that stuff, it was bold, like his work, and it mixed up real gems with woowoo crystals in a totally original way. He was also interested to read how she’d built up such an amazing business, all on her own, from scratch. He thought he might get some ideas from it for Mojobo.
He’d have to look her up online later, although it was tricky with that weird spelling. He wondered how you pronounced it. Gwillett?