‘So, you felt like doing a bit of gardening?’ he asks me wryly as we lie on his mattress afterwards.
‘Sorry about the grass,’ I reply with a grin. ‘Some rain will sort it out.’
‘There’s a storm coming. Should hit tonight.’
‘Is it a bad one?’ I know that America is prone to some nasty hurricanes.
‘No. But we’d better bring the couch up onto the porch.’
We go downstairs for dinner. I cooked a meal last week – roast chicken with all the trimmings. We’ve been sort of taking turns. Leo is cooking tonight, and I’m in the kitchen helping him when Javier walks in.
‘How was your day?’ I ask him. I’ve been trying to make more of an effort to talk to him, but it’s hard to converse in front of his mother.
‘Boring,’ he replies.
‘Oh.’ Something to say . . . ‘Did you help Eric out?’
‘Yeah . . .’
He sounds pretty sorry for himself. Leo stops rubbing spices into the chicken and turns around to look at him.
‘What’s up, nephew? You don’t like it on the boats?’
‘No, it’s crap.’
‘What would you like to do?’ Leo asks, going to wash his hands.
‘I dunno.’
‘Well, that’s not going to help you, much,’ Leo tells him with a look.
‘Anything would be better than scrubbing the decks,’ Javier says.
‘What do your friends do for work around here?’ I chip in.
‘My friends have all fucked off to Miami.’
‘Hey.’ Leo frowns.
‘What? You cuss,’ Javier replies grumpily, and for the first time I notice a similarity between them. Something in their expression. I try not to smile.
‘He looks like you when he’s annoyed,’ I say to Leo when Javier mopes off.
‘When he’s annoyed?’ Leo asks pertinently.
‘Yeah.’ I shrug and grin.
‘Am I annoyed much?’ He comes over to me and puts his hands on my hips, and there’s no trace of annoyance to be found anywhere in the vicinity.
‘You were pretty scary when I first met you,’ I tell him.
He throws his head back and laughs. ‘I’m not scary,’ he scoffs.
‘You’re not scary, now,’ I correct him.
He hooks his forefingers through the belt loops of my shorts and pulls me towards him. A jolt goes through me. But this time when he kisses me, I can’t help thinking about Matthew.
The storm hits later that night so we all congregate inside around the telly, me on Leo’s lap on the armchair to make room for the others. Javier is in his bedroom, sulking. Leo has his arms entwined around my waist and it feels so comfortable, yet somehow so alien. I still can’t stop thinking about Matthew. I have to remind myself that he cheated on me and got another woman pregnant, but so much of the time my thoughts keep taking me back to the good times – of which there were many. How many good thoughts can you cram into two years? Too many, that’s the answer to that.
Carmen keeps glancing over at us. I know she’s finding the sight of us unsettling, and I don’t feel quite as nonchalant about it here and now. I’m thinking I should sleep in my own bed tonight.
‘Did something happen at work today?’ Carmen interrupts my thoughts with this question to Eric, which sounds a tad accusatory. Max is lying at his feet, fast asleep. He hasn’t barked at me today, which is a result.
‘Not that I know of.’ Eric shrugs, not taking his eyes away from the telly. They’re watching some stupid police fly-on-the-wall documentary. I’m not really paying attention to it.
‘Then why did Javier go to bed straight after dinner?’ she asks.
‘He said he was bored,’ I offer up, then immediately wonder if I should have kept my mouth shut. She doesn’t want to hear from me, especially with regards to her beloved son. Whoops, yes, I was right. She glares at me. I feel Leo shift behind me and her eyes move past me to him. I know he’s staring her down, challenging her to just try to be a bitch to me in his presence. I suddenly feel happy to be in his arms and under his protection. I realise, with surprise, that I feel very safe here. As if reading my mind, his grip around my waist tightens and I place my hands on top of his, hugging him to me. I turn back to the telly, but can’t concentrate. Out of the blue a thought comes to me.
‘Could Javier help out at the dive centre?’ I ask Jorge directly.
His brow furrows as he thinks. ‘Um . . .’ Then his eyes widen with surprise. ‘I don’t know why I haven’t already thought of that.’
‘Tegan has just left, hasn’t she?’ I ask with growing excitement.
‘Yeah. We could really do with an extra set of hands. I guess he’s old enough now,’ Jorge replies.
I risk a glance at Carmen, and notice she’s sitting more upright. Have I finally got something right?
‘Can he dive?’ I ask.
‘Yeah,’ Jorge replies. ‘Leo and I taught him when he was eleven.’
‘Did you?’ I ask over my shoulder.
‘Yeah.’ His eyes meet mine and my heart flutters. My attraction to him really is quite uncontrollable.
Suddenly the power goes off and everyone groans.
‘Power cut,’ Jorge mutters.
‘Will it last long?’ I ask. It’s completely dark in here.
‘Long enough.’ Leo pats my arms, urging me to stand. ‘Come on, up to bed.’
Yours or mine, I wonder, as he takes my hand and leads me behind the armchair, calling goodnight to the others. He lets me go when we pass the bathroom, so I can get ready for bed.
I’m still thinking about sleeping in my own bed tonight as I attempt to get ready in the pitch-black darkness, but I somehow find myself feeling my way down the corridor, straight past my bedroom and up his stairs.
The rain is pelting down on the roof directly above us and the sound is deafening. I can see Leo standing at the window, staring out. He doesn’t hear me arrive and I stand at the doorway and watch him for a moment, checking out his profile in the darkness. I seriously have never fancied anyone this much before in my entire life. Is it so wrong, what I’m doing? Haven’t I been through enough pain to warrant taking some pleasure from someone who is quite possibly the sexiest man alive? I walk up behind him and slide my arms around his waist, making him jolt. I slip my hands underneath his T-shirt and close my eyes as my fingers trace over his toned stomach. He turns around and kisses me as though his life depended on it, and I kiss him right back.
It’s a week before Marty cottons on to what I’ve been doing, and by then Leo and I have settled into an easy love affair. Well, as easy as a love affair can be when Carmen is around to shoot daggers at us. That is, when she’s not eyeing me with suspicion or confusion.
While Leo trains Javier to work at the dive centre, I spend my days in front of my laptop at the dining-room table, writing strategies and trying to come up with new fund-raising initiatives. Our website also needs some attention, so I’ve rewritten part of it, added some new copy and now I just need to get onto our website designer. I’ve also taken over managing the social media side of things, like Twitter and Facebook. This was always Becky’s bag, but she’s so busy organising the ball that it’s falling to me to do some of her assistant duties. It’s a bit weird for me to be taking a backwards step while she goes out to lunch with managing directors of major companies and builds our relationships with corporate partners to encourage continuous support. At least it’s a distraction from thinking about Matthew.
He’s tried calling me a couple of times, but I divert his calls and put him off with vague texts about continuing to need time and space. I feel guilty, which is an unwelcome and peculiar emotion, considering the events which brought me here. No one knows about Leo and me. No one back in the UK, anyway. Until Marty calls.
‘What’s going on?’ she asks me. It’s Monday lunchtime and I’ve spent the weekend entirely in Leo’s company, mostly in his bed, although we did make it to the beach yesterday.
‘Nothing,’ I reply quickly. Too quickly.
‘Laura,’ she says, immediately onto me. Damn her! How does she do that? ‘What the hell is going on?’
‘Nothing!’ I say again.
‘Have you slept with him?’ she asks with astonishment.
I hesitate just that split second too long.
‘Holyshityouhave!’
‘Shut up,’ I say awkwardly.
‘Holy shit!’ she cries again. ‘You’ve fucking fucked him!’
‘Would you keep it down?’ I hiss. I don’t know where she is or who she’s with – probably in the privacy of her own bedroom with no one in earshot, but still . . .
‘Oh my God.’
‘Yeah, alright,’ I reply defensively.
‘I can’t believe it.’
‘Can we move on?’ I ask a little shirtily.
No, it appears we cannot.
‘Jesus,’ she says.
I sigh. Loudly.
‘Oh my God.’
‘Marty! Enough!’ I snap.
‘I knew you fancied him, but . . .’
‘Yes, I do,’ I say, as if that will be explanation enough.
‘What about Matthew?’ she asks.
I shift in my seat.
‘He’s kind of still thinking you’re coming home to him,’ she says sarcastically.
‘I am coming home,’ I tell her firmly. ‘But I don’t think I’m coming home to him.’
‘Really, Laura?’ She actually has the cheek to sound sad. Whose side is she on?
‘What do you mean, “Really, Laura”?’ Now I’m cross. ‘What does he expect? What does anyone expect me to do?’
‘No one expected you to do this, that’s for sure.’
I can just imagine the look on her face.
‘Don’t tell anyone,’ I warn her.
‘As if I would,’ she bites back. ‘Your filthy little secret is safe with me.’
I roll my eyes, even though she can’t see me.
‘So what’s he like?’ she asks casually. Too casually. She’s dying for me to dish the dirt.
‘You really expect me to kiss and tell?’ I ask drily.
‘Damn right I do. Is he as good in bed as he looks out of it?’
‘Better.’ It’s out of my mouth before I can stop myself.
‘You bitch,’ she curses.
‘That’s all I’m saying!’ I raise my voice to make my point.
‘I’ll get the rest out of you another time,’ she vows and, knowing Marty, she probably will.
‘I told Marty about us today,’ I reveal that night when Leo and I are alone. We’re sitting on the sofa in the garden – the others haven’t made it outside yet.
‘Did you?’ He looks surprised. ‘Aren’t you worried it will get back to Matthew?’
‘She wouldn’t say anything.’
‘But you are worried?’ He regards me from his side of the sofa. I’m facing him, with my knees up.
I look past him at the rope lights winding their way up the palm tree trunk as I ponder his question, but I can’t come up with a proper answer. ‘I don’t know.’
‘What would he do if he found out?’ he asks casually.
I frown. ‘I don’t know.’ It’s true. I don’t. What would Matthew do if he found out I’ve been having an affair? Would he divorce me? Or consider us even? ‘It doesn’t really matter right now.’
‘Of course it matters.’ He looks annoyed with me and I instantly feel horrible.
‘What’s wrong?’ I ask him.
He averts his gaze. ‘Nothing.’
‘Tell me.’ I kick him gently with my foot and he grabs it, pulling my leg across him. I stretch my other leg out.
‘The grass is looking better,’ he comments. It’s too dark to see it now, but we’ve noticed it’s been improving daily since the storm last week.
‘Talk about a change of subject,’ I tease and he smirks. I look over my shoulder at the house. ‘I was thinking we should paint the house.’ I turn back to look at him.
‘Why?’ He appears genuinely confused.
‘It’s so . . . run-down. If all of us helped out, we could get it looking good again.’ No response. ‘The wood will rot if you don’t,’ I add, remembering something my dad told me. ‘The whole thing will fall down one day if someone doesn’t take care of it.’
‘Perhaps the people living here practically rent-free should do something, then,’ he says drily.
‘Do you really see Eric doing anything off his own back?’
He purses his lips.
‘Come on, don’t you want to restore it?’ I press. ‘It could look so nice. We could paint it pink with purple shutters,’ I add with a grin.
‘Pink with purple shutters,’ he mutters with disgust. I knew full well that would be his reaction.
I laugh. ‘What colour, then?’
He muses for a while. ‘White or grey. With blue shutters.’
‘Blue?’
‘I like blue,’ he says with a grin. I sit up and crawl over to him, cupping my hand around his face.
‘I like brown,’ I tell him with a smile before he kisses me.
‘Eugh,’ Carmen mutters as she joins us.
I innocently pull away and snuggle back into the crook under Leo’s arm, making room on the sofa for another.
‘When is it going to stop?’ she asks as the others emerge, Eric cracking a can of beer open as he walks.
Leo and I ignore her. Jorge throws Leo another can of beer, which he puts down at his feet because he’s barely touched his current one.
Jorge sits down next to me and hands me my mobile phone. ‘It’s been ringing.’
‘Oh.’ My stomach falls. I take it from him and stare at the missed calls. Matthew’s name is up on the screen. Leo shifts beside me and I know that he saw what I saw. ‘Sorry about that.’ I stuff it into my pocket and try to put Matthew out of my mind.
Javier went on a dive today and he’s in an especially good mood. We listen as he tells his mum about it. My phone starts to go off in my pocket.
‘You going to get that?’ Jorge asks wryly. We’re so squished together on this sofa that he can feel it vibrating. Leo tenses.
‘I’ll switch it off,’ I say, as the others’ ears prick up.
‘Answer it,’ Leo directs, nodding towards the house. He takes his arm away from behind my head. I stare at him uncertainly. He nods again towards the house. Reluctantly I get up and go inside. Of course the phone has stopped ringing by then, so I go upstairs to my bedroom and listen to my voicemail. There’s just one, and it’s from Matthew.
‘I really need to speak to you. Call me as soon as you can.’
What’s going on? There was an urgency to his tone. It’s the middle of the night. Has something happened to the baby? My phone starts to ring again. This time I press answer.
‘What’s wrong?’ I demand to know.
‘Laura!’
‘Is everything okay? Has anything happened to . . .’ I can’t bring myself to say the rest of that sentence out loud.
‘No, he’s fine. He’s home and doing well.’
It unnerves me that Matthew knew exactly what I was thinking.
‘I couldn’t sleep,’ he adds, explaining his reason for calling me in the middle of the night.
‘Oh. Has he got a name yet?’ I ask dully.
‘Yes, of course.’ He sounds surprised. ‘We called him Evan.’
‘We?’ I ask with alarm. ‘You had a say in it?’
‘Yes, Laura,’ he says quietly. ‘He is my son.’
I almost hurl the phone at the bedroom wall. Hot tears form in my eyes and my bottom lip begins to wobble.
‘I’m so sorry,’ he says quietly, realising how this small revelation must’ve affected me. ‘I didn’t mean to hurt you.’
If I speak, I’ll cry, so I stay silent.
‘I know you don’t want to hear this, but I really wish you were here. I wish you could see him.’
Is he real
ly saying this out loud? To me? My mouth gapes open.
‘I know what you must be thinking,’ he continues quickly. ‘But I’m only trying to tell you the truth. I miss you. I miss you so much. It’s so weird going through all this without having you to share it with.’
I could laugh with outrage at this sentiment, but I can hear in his voice how desperate he is for me to understand. He sounds so sad, like he might be crying, too.
‘You’ve hurt me so much,’ I whimper.
‘Baby, I know.’ His voice breaks, and I know for certain that he’s on the verge of sobbing. ‘I’m so sorry about all of this. But please, LL. I love you. Please come home to me.’
‘I can’t,’ I whisper.
‘Yes, you can,’ he pleads with me.
‘No, I can’t. I’m not ready.’
‘You are ready; you’re more ready than you know. It’s all going to be alright.’
‘No, it’s not going to be alright!’ I cry out. ‘How can you say that to me?’
‘Laura, please,’ he begs. ‘Just come home. If you saw him, I just feel . . .’
‘Saw who? The baby?’ I ask.
‘Yes!’ He sounds surprised that I could be so incredulous.
‘I . . . But . . . I . . . I don’t want to see him!’ I stutter.
‘But you will see him,’ he says calmly, a touch perplexed.
‘Who says?’ Now I know I’m sounding like a bratty teenager.
‘Laura,’ he says sternly. ‘Be reasonable.’
‘HA!’ I erupt.
‘Bloody hell,’ he mutters, now a little angry. ‘This would be so much easier if we could talk face to face.’
‘Well, we can’t,’ I tell him firmly.
‘If you would just come home . . .’
‘No. I’m not coming home anytime soon. I’m having a nice time here.’
‘With who? Leo?’ he spits.
‘Yes, with Leo,’ I find myself replying.
Silence.
‘Laura?’ he asks uncertainly. ‘Is anything going on between you and him?’
My heart begins to pound harder and faster in my chest.
My silence tells him everything he needs to know. ‘Jesus Christ, Laura, I know I messed up, but seriously?’