Staverton (11 page)

But he hadn’t.

Caroline led the way into the dining room. The table was set with china and silver cutlery, and a smaller table set back against the wall was laden with plates of food. Bacon, sausages, beans, toast and fruit. It was like having breakfast in a hotel. Magdalena must have been up early to prepare all this for just the four of us.

“Morning, Daddy,” Caroline said as we entered the room.

Lawrence stood by the serving table, helping himself to rashers of crispy bacon. “Good morning, girls.”

I heard animosity in his tone and looked up. I wished I hadn’t. His bushy, black eyebrows lowered over his hard eyes.

“I’m going to ask Magdalena to make me an omelet,” Caroline said. “Do you want one, Lucy?”

I looked at the extravagant amount of food spread out in front of us. Surely, this was enough choice for anyone. “I’ll have something from the table, thanks.”

Caroline shrugged and walked out of the dining room. I watched her leave, and for a moment, considered running after her. Now I was alone with Lawrence.

Hoping to avoid conversation, I took my time looking over the breakfast items. I picked up a plate from a stack next to the fruit bowl and selected a croissant. I turned slightly and saw Lawrence was sitting at the head of the table.

“There’s orange juice and coffee. Please, help yourself.”

His voice made me jump. I made my way over to the table and sat down on his right. “Thank you.”

I tried to keep my hand steady as I reached for the jug of orange juice and poured a glass.

“I trust you slept well,” Lawrence said. “Eventually.”

My head snapped up. Why did he have to be so nasty? It wasn’t as if I purposefully went sleepwalking just to annoy him.

Before he could say anything else, Caroline walked back into the dining room. Lawrence finished his coffee in one large gulp, and said he had to leave for London.

After he left, I picked at my croissant while Caroline waited for Magdalena to bring her omelet.

“Dad’s late today. He normally leaves before eight,” Caroline said.

“That might be my fault.”

“Oh, because of the sleepwalking, you mean?”

I nodded.

“Well it isn’t your fault, don’t worry about it. Did Mother come down too?”

“Yes, she said she heard a scream. But it wasn’t me.”

“I didn’t hear a thing,” Caroline said as a harassed looking Magdalena came in the room with her omelet.

I waited until Magdalena left and then leaned forward. “It was Gwen. She screamed, not me.”

“Gwen?” Caroline put down the salt she was about to sprinkle over her plate. “Why would Gwen have screamed? And why would she have still been here? What time was it?”

“About an hour after we’d gone to bed,” I said. “Your mother thought I’d been dreaming.”

Caroline thought for a moment, then sprinkled salt over her breakfast and picked up her knife and fork. “Why would Gwen scream?”

“Because I walked in on her and Jake, you know.” I raised my eyebrows meaningfully.

Caroline’s eyes widened. “Gwen and Jake? Ew, that is not a pretty picture. I think we can safely say it was a dream.”

“But –”

“Did Mother see them?”

“No, but... Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it was a dream.”

“Nightmare more like.” Caroline gave a theatrical shudder.

As the weather forecast was fine, Caroline and I planned a picnic on the beach for lunch. Magdalena packed a hamper for us, with sandwiches, cold chicken and ripe peaches, and Caroline took a bottle of lemonade and added a hefty dash of vodka to it.

We each took a handle of the wicker hamper and carefully made our way down the cliff path to the beach. I carried the lemonade, and Caroline had a selection of her mother’s magazines clasped under one arm.

When we had nearly reached the beach, I heard Caroline mutter a curse.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Local boys. On the beach.”

“Is it a private beach?” I squinted at the four figures below us, messing about in the shallows.

“No. The cove isn’t private, but the only way to get to it by land is our cliff path. But it looks as though they came by boat.” Caroline pointed to the far end of the beach, where a dinghy had been pulled up on the sand. “Now we’ll have silly schoolboys gawping at us.”

We continued our way down the cliff path and set the towels as far away from the local boys as possible.

The morning breeze was still cool, so we both lay back enjoying the warmth of the sun, rather than go for a dip in the sea.

Shrieks of laughter and name-calling grew louder as the boys made their way along the beach towards us. They had a ball they threw back and forth. Apparently, the main aim of the game was to hit each other as hard as possible with the ball.

I closed my eyes and tried to ignore the noise. My mind was still full of the events of last night. It hadn’t been a dream. I was certain of that.

I hadn’t seen Angela yet today. I didn’t think Angela wanted me to leave, but Lawrence had sounded adamant last night. This could be my last day on the beach this summer.

I heard a thud as the heavy ball landed on the sand, a few inches from my head. I sat up. One of the boys swaggered up, his skinny body covered with red circles, marks made by the ball hitting him.

I put a hand on the ball and curled my fingers, wishing my nails were sharp enough to puncture it.

“Sorry about that, sweetheart. Chuck it back, will you?” he asked, not looking in the least bit sorry.

I was about to reply when Caroline, stood up, picked up the ball and drop kicked it into the sea.

“If you want it so much, go and get it.”

I looked at her in admiration. That was an amazing kick. The ball cleared the beach and most of the rocks, and now it bobbed up and down a few metres out to sea. If I had made the kick, it would have probably travelled less than a quarter of the distance.

The red-skinned boy’s face fell, and I felt sorry for him. I guessed he was a few years younger than us, and he and his friends were only messing about.

He swore at us, turned and ran toward his friends. They shouted amongst themselves, arms waving in anger before they set off for their dinghy.

“I need a drink after that,” Caroline said, reaching for the bottle of lemonade.

I picked up a magazine, planning to leaf through it, when a figure on the cliff caught my attention. I raised a hand to shadow my eyes from the sun. “Is that Michael?”

“Hmm?” Caroline looked up. “Yes, he is always out painting these days.”

“I’d love to see his paintings,” I said.

“They’re good. Really good,” Caroline said. “Oh, no.”

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s Gwen.”

I looked along the beach toward the cliff path and saw Gwen strolling towards us. Her hips swayed from side to side in a gentle rhythm.

“I’m going for a swim. Are you coming?” Caroline said.

“Too cold.”

“Don’t blame me if Gwen collars you,” Caroline said and took off, jogging toward the breaking waves.

Chapter 16

Gwen gave me a wide smile as she approached. Her red lips stood out against her white teeth and creamy skin. She gave a little fanning gesture with her hand. “Phew, sure is getting hot already.”

I smiled back. It was getting warmer, but I hadn’t wanted to run off into the sea like Caroline. I wanted to talk to Gwen, to see if she mentioned anything about last night.

“Mind if I sit down?” Gwen asked.

I moved a couple of magazines so Gwen could sit on Caroline’s towel. “Sure.”

Gwen sat down, arranging her colourful sarong so it covered most of her legs, apart from her scarlet toenails.

“Another day at the beach for you two? She’s a water baby,” Gwen said, squinting out at Caroline. She picked up a magazine and fanned herself with it.

“Would you like to go for a paddle, cool off a bit?” I said.

Gwen’s face was perfectly made up, foundation, eye-liner, mascara, lipstick: the works, but a layer of sweat had broken through and glistened on her forehead. “Great idea,” she said and started to pull off her gold sandals.

We gasped as the cold water splashed against our shins, and Gwen held up the bottom of her sarong to keep it dry, revealing her shapely legs.

“That’s much better,” Gwen said.

Caroline didn’t come over to us. She swam further out towards the rocks.

I wriggled my toes in the wet sand. I wanted to ask Gwen about last night but didn’t know how to broach the subject. I watched Gwen tilt her head back, pull out her hair band and shake her red curls out like some kind of Venus.

Intimidated, the questions I wanted to ask floated away. Gwen had a stylish beach cover-up, no childish shorts and t-shirt for her. No wonder she had such an effect on men. Her husband and Jake...and goodness knows how many others.

Gwen asked me what I planned to do after I got my exam results, and I found myself telling Gwen about my dream to open a gallery one day. Gwen didn’t laugh or turn her nose up but listened as if she was really interested.

I asked her questions about her sarong and swimsuit, how she styled her hair into sleek waves and what shade of lipstick she wore. Everything but the question I really wanted to ask.

I watched her carefully for any signs she was hiding something, but Gwen was confident and carefree, laughing at my questions, telling me how flattered she was to be asked beauty advice.

Cool and refreshed, we wandered back up the beach. Gwen put her hands on her hips and looked out to sea. “It’s beautiful here.”

I stood beside her in silence and listened to the waves break against the shore.

“I guess I better be walking back home now. She’ll be wrinkled as a prune.” Gwen nodded to where Caroline’s head bobbed up and down in the sea.

“Oh, I –”

Gwen put a hand up. “You don’t have to make excuses. I know she’s in there to avoid me, so I better leave before she dissolves.” Gwen smiled, but her eyes were sad.

I felt a stab of annoyance at Caroline and at myself for not bringing up what happened last night. I was about to lose the perfect opportunity.

“Did you have a nice time last night?” I asked, just as Gwen turned to walk away.

Gwen looked back. “Sure, it was a fun evening. Did you?”

I nodded. “Yes, until... Well, I had this funny dream, and I was sleepwalking.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, I thought you were there, in the study...”

Gwen didn’t say anything for a few moments, then licked her lips and said, “What time was this?”

“I’m not sure, around midnight, I think.”

“I was home by then. It must have been a dream.”

“Yes, probably.”

“Well, goodbye then.” Gwen picked up her sandals, turned and walked back towards the cliff path. Despite her feet sinking into the soft sand, she managed a slow, sensuous walk.

As soon as Gwen was out of sight, Caroline emerged from the water. She stood over me, water dripping off her and goose bumps all over her skin. Her shoulders were even pinker than yesterday.

“I thought she would never leave. I’m freezing. Why did you talk to her anyway?”

“I couldn’t ignore her.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s rude.”

“Well, she’s ruined my morning. I’m going back to the house.” Caroline rubbed herself vigorously with her towel. “Coming?”

I helped her pack the things away, and we set off to the cliff path. I attempted to imitate Gwen’s fluid walk, swaying my hips to the side with each step. It was harder than it looked.

Caroline walked slightly behind me and said, “What’s wrong? Is there a stone in your shoe?”

I flushed, straightened and started to walk normally. “No. It’s the sand, it’s hard to walk on.”

When we got back to the house, Caroline was still in a sulk. She hadn’t said one word on the walk back.

Irritated, I dumped the hamper on the floor in the kitchen and shoved the magazines into Caroline’s hands. “I’m going to take a bath. Hopefully you will have cheered up a bit by the time I’m done.”

Caroline shot me a dark look. “I’m fine.”

“No. You’re sulking because I spoke to your neighbour, Gwen, which is stupid. She was only being friendly.”

“Friendly? She’s too friendly if you ask me.”

“What have you got against her?”

“Nothing.” Caroline took a ratty, wet lock of hair between her fingers. “Great, the water has totally messed up my hair.”

“You should get some of that hair serum Gwen uses. She says it’s brilliant. I can’t remember what it’s called, but Gwen says it gets rid of the frizz...” I stopped talking when I noticed Caroline’s white, pinched expression.

“I don’t need advice from you, Miss Generic. There are so many girls like you, blonde highlights, short skirts. You think you are something special, don’t you? You and Gwen, you think men go weak at the knees for you.”

I was shocked into silence at the venom in Caroline’s words. I took a moment, then said, “What’s got into you? Why are you being such a bitch?”

“Just telling the truth.” Caroline smiled. “Oh, and before you set your sights on my brother –”

My hand itched to slap Caroline’s face. I cut her off. “I’m not interested in your brother!”

Michael chose that moment to walk into the kitchen. He had his easel and a paint splattered case tucked under his arm. “Don’t mind me,” he said, avoiding eye contact, but he wore an amused look on his face. It was obvious he’d overheard.

He set the easel down and poured himself a glass of water. Caroline stalked out of the kitchen, leaving Michael and me alone in the kitchen. I wanted to ask to see his paintings, but after what just happened, I was too embarrassed.

“Right, think I’ll go and run a bath,” I said.

Michael didn’t say anything, so I turned to leave. As I reached the door, he said, “Try not to take it personally.”

“What?”

“Caroline. Things are... Well, a bit difficult at the moment.”

He put his glass in the dishwasher, picked up his easel and case and headed out, leaving me staring after him, wondering what he meant.

Chapter 17

After my bath, I went to look for Angela. I tried the sitting room, the terrace, even the study, but there was no sign of her. Her car was still on the driveway, so where on earth was she?