Waves of Betrayal (The Isabel Marsh Trilogy Book 1) (28 page)

Isabel stares at him, tears running freely down her own cheeks too. ‘I
am
coming back Paul, but not to the cottage. I’m going to stay with Rachel for a while, then find myself a small apartment for Sasha and I. It’s over Paul,’ she says, stroking his face and thinking just how easy it would be to say ‘yes’ to him. ‘I’ve become stronger over the past few weeks. I’m more independent,’ she continues, ‘I’m going to travel more, meet new people, maybe even change my career. My ambitions and dreams have changed, Paul,’ she smiles down at him, imploring him to understand.

‘But, can we still see each other?’ he begs.

‘We’ll see each other around, I’m sure, but I don’t think that it would be a good idea to make plans. It would be too difficult for both of us. You need to find your way in life too.’

Paul rests his head back on her knees and sighs deeply. ‘I really messed things up.’

They sit in silence for a while as Isabel strokes his head, feeling sad, but more confident and determined than ever.

‘Let’s get some coffee and check out the flights on the internet,’ says Isabel eventually. ‘I need to let Rachel and my parents know that I’m coming home too!’

R
achel is confused, yet delighted that her friend is coming home. She cannot wait to see Isabel and, above all, to find out what on earth has happened! They are meeting in the Ploughman’s in an hour. Rachel looks up again at the clock restlessly.

She had been so excited when she was scrolling through her holiday photos on her phone and came across the one that they had taken, as a joke, in the English café. At the time, she never for a second thought that this photo could become so potentially life-changing for her friend. She had immediately called Rafael to ask for Marcos’s number, pretending that she was having trouble contacting Isabel and was concerned about her.

Without hesitating, convinced that this unquestionable evidence of Leanne’s deceit would save Isabel’s relationship with Marcos, she had sent it to his mobile. For hours she sat up waiting, checking her phone for a response. It wasn’t until the next morning that Marcos replied with a shocking message.

Thanks Rach, I know ur intentions were right but it’s too late. Found out that Isa is back with Paul xx

She had spoken to Isabel this morning, before she boarded the plane, but she had refused to go into details. It didn’t make sense.
None of this makes sense!
She thinks.

Rachel unscrews the pot of bright pink nail polish on the coffee table in front of her and begins to apply another coat. She is so distracted that she can’t remember whether this will be the second or third layer.
The colour does look very dark
, she thinks absentmindedly.

Ten minutes before she is due at the pub, she pulls on a light-grey cardigan over her knee-length linen summer dress and slips out into the fresh evening air. As she approaches, she can see that the pub is not busy. She wanders through the dark bar, looking around anxiously for her friend, and is surprised to see her already seated outside with a bottle of wine and two glasses. She waves briefly to the barman and rushes out towards the picnic bench, gripping her handbag with both hands.

‘Iz!’ she squeals ‘you’re here! Have you been here long? How was the flight? Where’s Paul? What happened...’ she says, the words tumbling out of her mouth without pausing. ‘Sorry,’ she says, taking a breath and hugging her friend tightly, ‘I’ve just been so worried.’

Isabel laughs and kisses her on the cheek, ‘oh Rach, it’s been a roller-coaster,’ she sighs, ‘but, I think it probably worked out for the best,’ she adds sadly.

‘But you’re back with Paul?’ Rachel asks, frowning. She pours them a glass of wine each and searches her friend’s face for clues when she doesn’t answer straight away. ‘Iz?’

‘No, I’m not back with Paul, Rach. Why would you think that?’ she asks, confused, taking a sip of wine. She hadn’t even told her that she’d seen Paul. ‘Has he said something to you?’

‘Iz, I have a confession to make,’ Rachel says slowly, looking first down at her nails and then back up at her friend’s puzzled face.

‘What have you done?’ sighs Isabel, knowing that it can’t possibly get any worse anyway.

‘I couldn’t believe it when I got your text about Leanne being pregnant. I sat there stunned, scrolling through my photos on my phone when I found that selfie we took in the café on my last day.’

Isabel thinks back for a few moments, trying to remember. ‘Shit, the one with Leanne and her bloke?’

‘Exactly,’ smiles Rachel, triumphantly, ‘you said you didn’t have evidence. Well I found it.’

‘Oh shit, but why didn’t you tell me? We have to send it to Marcos straight away,’ she says, getting to her feet in a flustered hurry. ‘Give me your phone,’ she says, nearly knocking over her wine glass.

‘Iz, I sent it,’ Rachel says as she watches her friends face drop in confusion.

‘What? He didn’t believe it?’ she asks, her voice rising to a breathless squeak, until it breaks and her eyes fill instantly with tears. ‘Rach, if he’d gone back to her, not having proof of her affair, I suppose
I
could live with that, but how can
he
? The baby might not even be his. He said he loved me,’ she says as she begins to sob.

Rachel gets up from her seat and puts her arms around her friend, ‘Iz, listen. I had a message back yesterday morning. He
has
left Leanne but he said that it was too late. He said that you were back with Paul.’

‘But how could he
know
?’ Isabel sniffs, her eyes wide with confusion.

‘Know what...? Iz, tell me what happened?’ Rachel sits down on the bench next to her friend and passes her a tissue from her handbag. ‘Come on, dry your eyes, drink some wine and we’ll figure this out, ok?’

Isabel tells Rachel about how upset she had been about Marcos, then hangs her head in shame as she confesses how Paul had found her drunk on the beach alone.

‘Alone? Iz why didn’t you call me instead of sending me that text?
Anything
could have happened to you out there in the dark. Swimming as well, oh Iz, it breaks my heart to think of you like that.’

‘My heart
was
broken,’ says Isabel simply, ‘and then suddenly, there was Paul. So familiar. He comforted me, we went back to my house and we drank more. Oh Rach, I know I was stupid,’ she whines, looking up at her friend.

‘Did he stay the night?’ asks Rachel, already reading the answer in Isabel’s eyes.

‘Yes. I’ve never
felt
so passionate. When I think back to the things we did... I just felt so liberated.’ She picks up her glass of wine and takes a long drink, ‘I just imagined that he was Marcos, Rachel. I never meant it to mean anything. I feel so bad now, but...’ she pauses and looks back up at Rachel, ‘how the
hell
does Marcos know?’ she asks angrily. ‘I’ve ruined everything, haven’t I?’ she shouts and starts to cry again, leaning against Rachel’s shoulder.

‘Could he have seen you go into the house together? Maybe he came to see you?’

‘No, it was late and dark when we got back from the beach. We never left the house until this morning, when we got a taxi over to Paul’s hostel to collect his things and directly to the airport.’

They both sit thinking, chewing their nails and staring up at the sky for inspiration.

‘Why don’t you call him?’ asks Rachel, ‘ask him why he thinks you’re back with Paul?’

‘He wouldn’t answer,’ she says, ‘can you try?’ Isabel asks, hopefully.

Rachel takes a deep breath and tucks her hair behind her ears, ‘I can try’ she says quietly, as she takes out her phone.

In complete silence they stare at each other, as the call goes straight to voice mail for the fifth time.

‘There must be
some
explanation,’ says Isabel, slamming the palm of her hand down on the table in front of her. ‘Oh please, can we order some food, I’m starving,’ she buries her head dramatically into her folded arms, ‘and wine,’ she mumbles, ‘more wine!’

Rachel watches her friend through the patio doors as she stands in the queue at the bar. She sighs heavily and takes her mobile out of her handbag again and dials Marcos’s number one more time.
Might as well, whilst I’m waiting
, she thinks. It rings seven, maybe eight times and then goes to voice mail again. Taking a steadying breath, Rachel decides to leave a message. She steps away from the noise of the bar and clears her throat. For the seventh time, she listens to the message in Spanish, waiting for the usual tone. ‘Marcos, listen Marcos, this is Rachel. I’m with Isabel here in England. She’s distraught. She knows about the photo with Leanne and she really needs to speak to you. She’s not with Paul... we can’t imagine why you think she is. Marcos, please answer...’
Shit!
thinks Rachel as she is cut off.
I should have had a little less wine and jotted down a few notes of the important points! It would have helped my plea
. She drops her phone back into her bag in frustration.

At least the crowd at the bar has now dispersed.
Bonus!
she thinks and wastes no time in putting in her order.

‘Your friend ok?’ asks the concerned barman, looking out at Isabel, ‘that man’s not bothering her, is he?’

Rachel spins around on her heels. Isabel is sitting on the edge of the bench sobbing and there is a man crouching in front of her. He seems to be trying to comfort her.

‘Thanks,’ says Rachel breathlessly, grabbing the bottle of wine from the bar and hurrying as fast as she can in her heels, back towards her best friend.

‘Iz?’ she manages to croak, stopping in her tracks, her heels sinking into the grass, ‘
Marcos...
?’

Isabel smiles widely through her tears and Marcos, always the perfect gentleman, jumps to his feet and rescues Rachel from falling backwards onto the lawn.

‘It was Paul’s doing,’ says Isabel quietly, ‘But thankfully Marcos wouldn’t take his word for it. His plane landed an hour after mine,’ she laughs through her tears, ‘and where else would a heartbroken English girl be but in the local pub?!’

Rachel steps out of her shoes and throws her arms around her friend.

‘Marcos, get another glass! We can pretend that this Chardonnay is Champagne. Iz, you need to fill me in but, oh wow, I’m just so happy for you both!’ Rachel squeals excitedly.

‘You will visit us won’t you Rach. You and Stephen?’ Isabel asks, hugging her tightly, her eyes sparkling with happiness and brimming with tears. Marcos returns with three champagne flutes. ‘The Moët needs chilling,’ he smiles, ‘but Chardonnay will do for now!’