Weeks in Naviras (22 page)

I explained to Luis what had happened and he just smiled to himself. ‘Seems to me like he’s running away from the village every time.’

‘I don’t mind, not anymore.’

‘Why not?’

‘We’re not in love, Luis. We haven’t been for a long time.’

His eyes locked onto mine. ‘You know, I can ask Carolina to look after your kids for you, if you want to do something one evening. She loves children.’

‘What did you have in mind?’

‘I think you know, Ellie.’

We said nothing more for a while. I looked down to the beach, where Bobby had just destroyed Sadie’s sandcastle and was trying to stop her from doing the same to his.

‘Your kids are so wonderful, the way they play together,’ said Luis. ‘I never had this with my brother when I was the same age.’

‘Yeah, they seem to have bonded really well. Still, there’s only just under two years between them.’

A long silence. Luis stubbed out his cigarette, only half smoked. ‘Is she mine?’

Three words, no more were required. I put my hands over my eyes and rubbed them, unwilling to look at him. ‘I honestly don’t know, Luis.’

‘But she could be.’

‘It’s possible. There are ways of finding out, but not easily. Not without raising the alarm with James. Do you want to know?’

‘Yes, I’d like to know, of course I would. But I understand if it’s difficult. Why don’t you leave him, Ellie?’

I gave a half-laugh. ‘And do what, Luis? Come and live out here with you?’

‘I didn’t say you had to come here. I just want you to be happier than you are, that’s all. While there’s still time for you to meet someone else.’

‘What a strange thing to say.’

‘It’s not, Ellie, I’m not stupid enough to assume we’d work together. We don’t really know each other. I only know you from when you’re here.’

It was hard to take, him giving voice to a truth I’d always known. There was a loss of control. ‘But still you want us to go out, on some kind of date?’

‘I think we both could do with cheering up,’ he stretched his suddenly muscled arms. ‘And to talk about what’s happening with our lives,’ he added.

Bobbie and Sadie had started fighting over buckets, she was crying. Normally I didn’t rush to comfort them when they were upset but I needed to get away from Luis. ‘I’d better go and sort those two out,’ I said.

He nodded. ‘I’ll talk to Carolina later, yeah?’

‘Sure.’

‘You’ll have to give me your new phone number,’ he said. ‘I tried the old one a few months ago, it didn’t work.’

‘Of course. Sorry, I had to change it when James became Home Secretary,’ I lied.

I spent a further two hours on the beach with the kids, enjoying the hot sun tempered by a fairly stiff breeze. I turned around at one point to find Luis had left the beach bar. Before long Bobby said he was hungry so we packed up our beach things and walked up to La Roda. My phone picked up the network, a message from James.
Check the news when you can
. He must have sent it from Lisbon airport. While we waited for our lunch he messaged me some more, clearly everyone was playing catchup but Ollie Drake had recalled Parliament and would deliver a statement the following day, a Friday, at noon.

James called that evening to warn what the PM would say, but still I watched Drake’s speech to the Commons on the TV in the hotel room. Amid the bolshiest of jeering he explained how Britain was going down to a four-day week, with electricity restricted. Hospitals and major infrastructure exempt, of course. A temporary measure, until supplies could be properly restored. No firm timescale but expected to be within days, not weeks.

If he’d said ‘hours not days,’ then it might just have been manageable, but from the outset it was obvious things were dire. Tory MPs must’ve sussed, some of them were jeering from the backbenches during Drake’s statement. I knew James would be swamped that night and wouldn’t call me, so it seemed as good a time as any to let Carolina take care of the kids for the evening. She must’ve known what was going on. The last message I got from James that afternoon was about how weak Drake seemed. I wished him good luck.

Luis and I met outside La Roda and walked down to the beach as the sun was turning large and orange, the shadow of the cliff advancing up the other side of the bay. Luis had been down earlier, I realised, and had dug a pit in the sand and built a small fire with wood and charcoal bricks. It took a minute or two for the wood to catch light, we both lay on the sand behind the fire, watching the tide as the charcoal turned white. Luis had cleaned out four sardines and stuck skewers through them, resting them on two little pebble towers he’d built on each side of his fire. We drank vihno verde as a fingernail of moon rose out of the haze.

Luis squeezed lemon onto the sardines as they cooked. We sat up cross-legged and ate them with our fingers quietly. When there was nothing left but heads and bones we threw them back onto the embers, then we held each other. I didn’t care that my mouth and lips tasted and smelled of sardines, nor if the whole village could see me. We stayed like that for about half an hour, before Luis pulled back. ‘Something I need to show you,’ he said, standing up and scooping sand over the glowing remnants of the fire.

I explained how it’d been only my second meal on the beach, described the morning James had proposed. He looked up at me, then walked over to the slipway and fiddled with the rope securing his scuba boat to one of the iron cleats. I walked over to him and he turned around. He’d pulled off some of the twine from the rope, knotting it into a little circle.

‘I don’t want you to marry me,’ he said. ‘But have this, anyway.’ I smiled and held out my right hand, let him put the knotted twine around my ring finger.

We walked up to Casa Amanhã in the twilight. Standing in the road at the gates Luis produced a key from his pocket, turned the padlock and pulled it apart. The gates made a wrenching sound as we pushed them open. As we walked down the driveway in the gathering darkness I looked at the doors to the guesthouse and restaurant, which were boarded up. Coming round the side of the building we reached the little hatch to wine cellar, which was down a couple of stone steps and also chained and padlocked. ‘It’s the same key,’ said Luis, twisting the lock and quietly pulling the door open.

I’d never been down there before and could barely see in front of me until Luis struck a long cooking match and lit a lantern sitting on a small shelf by the hatch. He held it up to show row after row of bottles. ‘I keep thinking we ought to move them,’ he said. ‘But it would be stealing, and I’m not sure where I’d put them.’

‘How many people know this is all down here?’

‘As far as I know, just me and Carolina,’ he said, walking over to the darkest corner of the cellar and gesturing to the small safe embedded in the wall, big as a breezeblock and sealed with a combination lock. Luis crouched down and turned the dial. ‘Lottie never liked coming down here, much,’ he said. ‘She was scared of spiders and always got me to put the cash and the accounts stuff in here for her every night. The number’s 0603, you knew what it meant to her? Three minutes past six, the time she was due on-air every morning for her first weather forecast. She told me that the first time I met her.’ He looked up at me, grinned then turned back to the safe, there was a click as the final tumbler gave way and he pulled the door open. He rummaged around inside briefly before pulling out a pile of small papers, bunched together with an elastic band.

They were our little notes, every single one we’d ever sent to each other via the alcove in Room Seven. ‘I can’t believe you kept them, Luis,’ I said. Those notes were the lump sum of what had kept me going, part of what kept pulling me back to the house. ‘Do you love me, Luis?’

‘Of course I love you,’ he stood up. ‘I always have. Well, not to begin with, I thought you were one of those English ice queens at first,’ he poked me on the arm. ‘Then I started to see into you, and I liked it.’

‘What you said on the beach this morning about us not working.’

‘I meant it. But it doesn’t mean I don’t love you, still.’ He pressed up to me. ‘Usually I feel like it’s wrong, but not because of James,’ He laughed silently to himself. ‘More because of how we’re brother and sister, somehow.’

‘Well, we’re definitely not, Luis.’ He smiled, but I was getting nervous and shivered.

‘Let’s move upstairs. It gets cold down here pretty fast, once the sun’s gone down.’ I said I didn’t want to go any further into the house, and I really didn’t want to, not without Lottie there. ‘Just come and look at the place for a second,’ he said.

I watched as he put the papers back in the safe and scrambled the lock. We walked up the stone steps that curled in a spiral, reaching the wooden door. Luis pushed on it and we emerged at the bottom of the main staircase, headed up into the restaurant, dark and covered with cobwebs. A few shafts of half-light were coming in through the shutters in front of the high windows. We stood at the top of the staircase for a moment. It was so much bigger than I’d ever appreciated, its true size only becoming obvious because there were no customers, no kitchen staff. No Lottie as a focal point.

‘If anything ever happens to Casa Amanhã, I’ll make sure I get our letters out of the safe first,’ said Luis, walking down the small wooden staircase, putting the lantern on the bar before running his hand through the dust on its surface.

‘Nothing’s going to happen to Casa Amanhã,’ I paused again, knowing anything else would change everything. ‘Because it belongs to me, now.’

I’d never seen Luis look surprised at anything before. ‘She gave it to you?’

I walked slowly down the stairs towards him. ‘Before she died. She said she wanted me to always have an escape route from James. But it’s not as simple as that Luis, I always knew it wouldn’t be.’

I could see him getting angry, just as I’d feared. ‘She gave it to you, not me.’

‘Luis please, I wasn’t happy about it either, I’ve felt so awful.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

I sat on one of the dusty stools at the bar, put both elbows on it and pressed my palms against my face. ‘I couldn’t. Actually, I wanted to transfer it into your name but I worried James would find out, and start asking questions,’ I stretched one of my hands out on the bar towards him. ‘I never expected him to become Home Secretary or anything like that. When he did, I thought about maybe giving the house to Carolina, but that’s not possible until she turns eighteen. I looked into it, Luis, honestly I did. That’s my plan, it’s only a year from now, then you can both have it, I promise.’

‘So it was you who closed the house and had it boarded up.’

‘I didn’t do anything, Luis. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t be involved in it, I didn’t
want
to be involved in it. Not without her here. I never expected her to go and die like that, not so soon.’ I stood up, went to put my hand on his but he snatched it from underneath me. Still I kept talking. ‘I would’ve felt like a fake. People would’ve thought I was some kind of gold-digger, befriending an old lady and convincing her to give me her estate! You must understand.’

He didn’t, that much was obvious in his face. He took the padlock key out from his pocket. ‘I suppose this belongs to you, then.’ He put the key on the bar and walked past me, up the wooden steps. I heard him open the door to the wine cellar, then slam it behind him.

As I’m walking across what appears to be my old front lawn towards Gavin I can feel my mood lifting, despite myself. It certainly seems to want to lift, my mind wants to forget what I’ve recently seen. The snowy grass is like a cushion under my bare feet. But I deny myself, I capture the memories of the cave beneath me, compartmentalise them. Previous memories have proved unreliable, prone to self-annihilation. Not any more, I tell myself. I’m storing them, in a place just below my throat, where I’d felt the gag reflex in Morgan’s cave.

Gavin stands up from the rocking chair. ‘It’s very beautiful here,’ he says.

‘How did you know this was my house?’

‘From the painting inside, in the hallway,’ he says, cocking his head to the front door behind him. There’s Lottie’s portrait of me, just inside the house where it had always hung. I look back at Gavin, notice he’s no longer rejuvenated; his hair’s greyer and the lines around his eyes are back. ‘That’s where I just found myself,,’ he says. ‘After the avalanche.’

Thank God he remembers, I think. ‘You disappeared, Gavin, when you went to go back into the hotel. Everyone did at the same time, I think, except me.’

He nods, closing his eyes briefly. ‘It was like being pulled down, but sideways. You told me about that, before.’ His eyelids spring open. ‘What happened to you?’

‘I watched the snow come, and it buried everything.’ Once again it’s like my tear ducts have been sealed up, the moisture’s trapped behind my eyes. I think about telling Gavin what I’ve seen below the cliffs but then shake my head, pulling my arm away and walking past him, through the open front door into my would-be house. Gavin follows me.

Much of the living room is familiar; the sofa, the paintings from Portugal, all in their usual places. Lots of things are missing, though, most obviously the TV. It’s been replaced by a large wicker chair. Photos of Bobbie and Sadie, various pictures of James in Parliament with world leaders and dignitaries, they’re all gone. The same rules seem to apply as before; no books, no electronics. I sense Gavin’s standing behind me and I turn to face him. ‘How long have you been here?’

He looks so confused. ‘Not long, ’ He stops, looks like he’s trying to swallow. ‘I think I sort of blacked out, for a moment? Then I was just here, standing by that door,’ He points at the entrance to the kitchen. ‘I guess this changes a lot,’ he says. ‘I mean, you’ve been in my place, now I’m in yours. Who knew dying would be so interesting.’ He smiles.

I know I have to tell Gavin about what I’ve seen beneath the cliffs, it’s only fair. I’d want to know, if it were Luis in the same situation. But I can’t tell him straight away, feel I have to build up to it. ‘Gavin, do you think Morgan was a good person?’

‘Well, she has many wonderful qualities. Why do you ask?’

‘Did you love her?’

‘No,’ he says, without seeming to think about it. Obviously a question he’s asked himself many times before. ‘We loved each other when we were young, after that we were just a team, I guess. I supported her, and she was grateful for that. We were friends.’

‘Did either of you mind that you no longer loved each other?’

‘I think Morgan loved her work more than anything. I admired her for that.’ He’s so calm it seems cruel to break the spell. What I’ve seen can’t be told, I think, it can only be shown. Gavin has to make up his own mind about what it means. Or more accurately perhaps he can help me work it out, because I’m at a loss.

‘Come with me, I need to show you.’ I take his hand and guide him back outside into the sunshine, walking with him to the path that runs along the side of the cliff. I feel I should somehow prepare Gavin for what he’s about to see. ‘You won’t want to see it, I’m afraid. It’s not like this place at all, it’s the opposite, the reverse. It’s…’

I can’t finish my sentence because I’ve just looked down into Naviras Bay, down at the beach bar a hundred metres beneath us. From here it’s a lot easier to see what’s going on. Much of it’s unchanged; the group of people on the sun-deck are still there, as are the family on the beach. But I can see Luis standing at the very end of the terrace, where I’d first sipped that glass of wine he’d brought me. He’s not alone, opposite him’s another man with brown hair. I stare down, trying to confirm it to myself. Yes, the other man leans back and I see his face properly. It’s James.

Perhaps I should feel elation, relief perhaps. Instead I’m just scared and anxious. James and Luis shouldn’t be talking to each other. I have to stop them.

I turn to Gavin. ‘Change of plan,’ I say, pointing down. ‘James is down there. I need to speak to him.’

‘You’ve not seen him so far?’

I laugh. ‘Let’s just say we keep missing each other.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘Get used to it.’ I turn around and start to walk down the path back towards Naviras, past the fake Eppingham house and down into the village. It’s not possible to run. Indeed trying to walk faster only seems to slow me down, somehow. I don’t look back to see whether or not Gavin’s following me. The snow-strewn path runs along the side of the cliff and before long the wall enclosing Casa Amanhã comes into view on my left. It’s almost sliding past me as I try to make progress, but the air around me – if that’s really what it is – has become like treacle.

Lottie’s standing at the gates, looking straight at me. She’s old again, her white hair’s not tied in its usual bun; it’s let down, thin straggles resting on her shoulders. I’ve never seen her unkempt like this before. She’s still wearing the same blue dress but it doesn’t fit her properly. It’s not something she’d ever have worn at her age, it ends too short before her knees, making her look undignified.

‘Oh, my dear girl, where have you been? I lost you, or you lost me. I was walking behind you in that Parliamentary
corridor, next thing I knew I was back in the kitchen!’ She doesn’t seem too upset by any of this.

‘Lottie, have you seen James?’

‘Yes, he was here, darling, not long ago.’ She holds up her arm, thumbs back into the garden towards Casa Amanhã. ‘He just walked into the restaurant, bold as brass, saying he’d come up from the wine cellar.’ She purses her lips. ‘I tried to explain how you and I had been down there but he wouldn’t let me finish and went off to find you. Rude as ever, darling.’ She flutters her eyelids. I’m not sure she’s noticed that she’s no longer young. ‘I thought I’d wait here in case you came back. And who’s this?’

I turn around to see Gavin’s caught up with me. ‘Lottie, this Gavin, the First Gentleman of the United States,’ I say, unable to resist smiling to myself. ‘Gavin, this is my.. this is Lottie. I told you about her.’

‘Hello, ma’am,’ says Gavin, offering his hand uncertainly. Our situations are reversed, now, he’s the interloper.

‘Lottie, listen to me. There’s something horrible underneath Naviras, under the cliffs on the far side of the bay. Whatever happens after this, if we’re separated again or something, promise me you won’t go down there. Please, stay away from the cliffs.’ I start to walk past them, heading for the travessa leading to the beach.

‘Ellie, wait,’ says Gavin behind me. ‘Please can you tell me what’s going on?’

‘No,’ I say, not stopping nor turning around. ‘I can’t explain because whatever I tell you, it’ll probably just change. I give up. But I have to warn Luis and James.’

‘Well,’ Lottie’s haughty voice behind me, presumably talking to Gavin. ‘I’m going with her. Are you coming?’

About halfway down the silent and empty travessa I think I hear a woman’s voice speaking and stop to listen, turn around and ask Lottie if she’s said anything, but she shakes her head. The only noise is the faint sound of the waves ahead of me. We cross the square and I see La Roda’s now empty, the old couple from earlier no longer sitting at the veranda.

We walk along the beach bar path, everything’s just as it had been the moment I  stepped out of the water, apart of course from the snow which has formed a crust on top of the sand. The children are still playing, kicking up clouds of white and yellow. It all seems the same to them, I think, as I look beyond them to the white-flecked cliff, remembering what’s underneath it, what’s happening to Gavin’s wife down there.

I stride up the steps into the beach bar. Gavin asks where we are but there’s no time to explain, I tell him, as I walk through the bar’s interior and then outside again to the sun deck. Luis and James are still sitting at the furthest table, Luis with his back to me. He says something to James, who turns around then practically leaps out of his chair.

‘There you are,’ James takes two steps towards me. ‘I’ve been looking everywhere for you, but Lottie said you went missing from Casa Amanhã.’ He goes to embrace me, but I keep my arms at my sides.

‘This is all wrong, James. Everything’s wrong.’

Luis stands up, too, looking past me. ‘Who’ve you got with you?’ I turn around to see Gavin and Lottie stepping through the patio doors. ‘I know him, he’s the president’s husband.’

I want to tell Luis and James about what’s underneath the cliff. That’s what I came here to do, after all. Am I worried they won’t believe me? No, more that it seems cruel to break the spell, ruin everyone’s understanding of what this place is, where it goes. But then James already knows, I think. He must do, how else could he have got here?

Instead I turn to Luis. ‘There’s nothing behind the painting in Room Seven,’ I say. ‘The alcove’s missing. How can there be nothing there?’

Luis just stares at me. He’s opening his mouth to say something, but I speak first. ‘And the wine cellar, Luis. There’s something else down there. It’s connected to the House of Commons, or something that’s meant to look like it, and under those cliffs..’ I point to the end of the beach as the wind blows my hair into my eyes. ‘This place is horrible. It’s all wrong.’

It’s good to see James wrong-footed. He can’t speak for a moment. ‘What are you talking about, L?’ He says finally, ‘What does he know that I don’t?’ He’s looking at Luis, now, making no effort to hide his irritation.

I don’t pause, didn’t think about it for a second, before replying. ‘I fell out of love with you, James. You were never there for me, and you put your career before me, every single time. I hate it, I’ve always hated it.’

‘Ellie, stop, please,’ says Luis.

Above us there’s a cracking sound. James and Luis both turn around, away from me, looking up at the cliffs. I watch as slivers of snowy rock fall away, tumbling down into the sea, turning the water dark. Further down the cliff-face it looks like explosives are being detonated, puffs of dust are spewing from holes up and down the side. The kids on the beach stop playing but they don’t run; they’re just standing, bewildered, as their parents get up from their towels.

Then about a third of the cliff gives way, a large chunk of it just collapsing into the water, like it’s made from nothing firmer than dust. Water bursts into the air as more sections of cliff slide into the ocean, the spray quickly mixing with more rock. I can feel the sun deck shaking. The waves from the impact reach the shore, inundating the beach. More are heading our way, it’s quite possible the sun deck’s about to be swamped.

Luis turns around, says we have to go. James turns around, too.

‘Go on, say something!’ I’m shouting, but not as loudly as I want to, that’s impossible. ‘What’s the matter with you?

Still he doesn’t didn’t react. He’d become statuesque, just like Luis. Then both of them vanish, just like Gavin had in Catseye, collapsing in on themselves like they’ve been turned off, somehow. They simply cease to be there. I turn around to find Gavin and Lottie both gone, too. I look around the bar; everyone’s gone, I’m completely alone on the sun deck. It’s deserted inside the bar.

Then the sun begins to set, rapidly. I watch the shadow of what’s left of the cliff climb up the other side of the bay, the cottages and villas quickly losing their afternoon warmth. The sky warps from blue to orange, then pink, then purple. Yet no stars come out, the moon doesn’t rise. I can hear the water lashing the wall below the sun-deck. Then I look to my left further down the beach, to the slipway.

Jean and Bill are standing up there, right by the waterline. They’re looking straight at me. The bottom of Jean’s polkadot dress is billowing sideways in the wind. Even though I can’t make out the expression on their faces, I feel their stare. They’re annoyed with me.

I walk back into through empty beach bar, the lobster pot lampshades swinging in the wind. Slowly I walk down the steps and along the path, making my way in the gathering darkness to the slipway.