‘That’s not all it takes to make a lasting relationship.’ Why do I want to turn this into an argument with my friend?
‘I know.’ Flick shrugs away my concerns. ‘He’s funny, caring, bright. Fantastic in bed.’
My heart lurches. Is it my fertile imagination or does she stare directly at me when she says that? Does she know that I was listening to them? I’m sure she must.
‘I think you’ve mentioned that already,’ Ella chips in.
‘Did I?’ Ella and Flick cackle together and I can tell that she’s only trying to wind us up. ‘He can cook too. Did I tell you that?’
‘You didn’t,’ Ella confirms, ‘but that’s not nearly so interesting.’
‘I haven’t seen much evidence of it,’ Flick adds. ‘But he tells me he can. And who knew that he could sing like that?’ She looks pleased with herself that she’s managed to land such a catch.
‘So, how long have you known him?’ Ella asks.
She’s thoughtful for a moment. ‘Long enough to know that I’d like him to stick around.’
‘Must be love,’ Ella coos.
‘I hate to say this, girls,’ Flick continues, ‘but he could be The One.’ She gazes out to sea. ‘I know that I haven’t got the best track record when it comes to commitment, but I’m serious this time. Look at me. All this isn’t going to last.’ She points at her face. ‘I’m already thinking of getting Botox. I can’t still be running around like this when I hit forty. Everyone else has moved on and I haven’t. I’m stuck in party mode.’ She knocks ash into the saucer next to her. ‘Sometime soon, I need to think about settling down and what else would I be looking for in a man? Noah’s the real deal. Even I, who can’t spot a decent guy from fifty paces, can tell that.’ She shakes her head as if admonishing herself. ‘I can’t let this one slip through my fingers. Believe me, they don’t come along that often.’
I wonder if the main attraction is that Flick is having to do all the chasing this time. There’s no doubt that he likes her and, clearly, there’s a lot of sexual compatibility between them, but Noah certainly doesn’t look as besotted as her usual men.
Flick takes the last puff of her cigarette and grinds the butt into the terrace. ‘Don’t tell Noah that I smoke,’ she says. ‘He hates it. I’m going to give it up.’
This we have also heard before.
‘He’s a total nature freak,’ she continues. ‘That’s why I thought he’d love this place. No offence, Ella, but it’s a bit too bloody middle-of-nowhere for me. Where can you buy Jo Malone toiletries up here?’
‘Nowhere,’ Ella admits.
Flick looks appalled. ‘I like a coffee shop on every corner and you never want to be too far from a branch of Zara.’
‘You sound exactly like Harry,’ I note with a laugh.
‘There’s nothing for it,’ Flick adds, ‘I’m going to have to get Noah seriously into five-star hotels and spas.’
We all chuckle at that. But underneath the laughter I can feel myself quietly seething. It’s clear that Noah and Flick are totally mismatched. Why can’t she see that? Why can’t she see that this relationship will go the same way as all the rest of them? Hasn’t she worked out that opposites might attract in the first place but they rarely grow old together? But who am I to pour cold water on her happiness just because my hormones are convinced that they fancy the pants off her man? I need to get my own house in order first.
What happens if when you get together you have a lot in common and then, slowly but surely, you grow apart? How do you go about starting to fix that?
‘You’re not thinking of whisking him off to Las Vegas at short notice?’ Ella enquires.
We rarely mention Flick’s short-lived and ill-fated marriage these days. Or the trouble it caused. And all for nothing. It broke up two families, left two vulnerable teenagers with a weekend daddy, and cost her briefly wedded husband his reputation and his standing in the community. Flick might have moved on quickly to the next man, but I fear the experience has left her with lasting damage when it comes to her ability to form healthy relationships.
‘I’ve done Vegas,’ Flick jokes, though her voice is tight. ‘This time I’m thinking of a beach wedding. You’ll be my bridesmaids.’
Ella and I both roll our eyes and together say, ‘Thanks.’
‘The thing is,’ Flick worries at a beautifully manicured fingernail, ‘there’s just one small flaw with this plan.’ She looks at us both squarely. ‘I don’t think Noah feels the same way about me.’
Ella reaches out and takes Flick’s hand and squeezes it.
‘I’m sure he thinks that I’m fun to be with. But I get the impression that it’s a relationship that’s just for now with him. I have to show him that there’s more to me than that.’ She looks anxiously at us. ‘I’ve spent so long with men I don’t give a toss about that I can’t remember what I’m supposed to do any more when I do care.’
‘He’s come here,’ Ella reminds her. ‘That must mean he likes you a lot. You wouldn’t go on holiday with someone if you didn’t.’
‘I’ll be content with “like a lot” for now,’ Flick says affably. ‘Come on, Grace. You’re the fixer. Can’t you sort this out for me?’
‘You just need to turn on your charm,’ Ella chips in, rescuing me.
‘I am on a full charm offensive. I’m surprised you haven’t noticed.’ More laughter. ‘But it’s going to take more than that,’ she admits. ‘I’m going to have to work really hard to make him love me.’
And she’s perfectly capable of doing that. I know. She can make any man she wants fall in love with her. Perhaps I should ask her for some tips on how to get Harry to fall in love with me again. Because, frankly, I don’t have a clue.
Chapter Fifteen
Ella yawns as we both make another pot of tea and a big cafetière of coffee.
‘Tired, honey?’ I ask.
‘Always, at the moment,’ she says. ‘Don’t think I’ve ever been as sleepy. If it was an Olympic sport then I’d get a gold medal.’
‘You do look a bit pale. Take it easy. Don’t be running round after everyone. We’re all grown-ups, we can look after ourselves.’
‘I just want to make sure that everyone has a nice time while they’re here, but I am feeling a bit queasy today.’ She laughs. ‘Too much rich food.’
We take the tea and coffee back outside. Then Art appears and, when Flick budges up, plonks himself down on the bench next to her. He looks remarkably spry for a man who consumed an inhuman amount of brandy last night. He does, however, pour himself a very large mug of strong, black coffee and, after grunting a cursory ‘Good morning’ at us all, says very little as he stares unmoving at the waves.
The sun is climbing higher in the sky, the sea glitters invitingly. The chill has long gone from the morning air and it looks as if it’s going to be another scorching day in Pembrokeshire. The golden crescent of the beach is deserted. I’ve got the map and the guide books out of the bookcase in the sitting room and I’m trying to get my bearings. I didn’t know that there was anywhere left in this country that was still so undeveloped.
Cwtch Cottage is pretty isolated. According to the guide books, there’s a coastal hamlet nearby called St Brides that has a few pubs and a couple of streets of houses, but not much else. The biggest town within driving distance is probably St Davids. What the area lacks in major metropoli, it makes up for by having lots of rugged coves and deserted beaches. I can’t wait to get out and explore.
‘I’ve put some croissants in the oven,’ Ella says. ‘We can have breakfast out here.’
‘I may never eat again,’ Art mumbles.
‘It’s the drinking you should never do again, sweetheart.’ Ella kisses the top of his head.
‘I’m an old-school rock’n’roller,’ he points out. ‘That is what I do.’
I wonder what Harry’s excuse is. He still hasn’t surfaced yet and, do you know, I simply don’t have the inclination to wake him.
I
nstead, I go back to my maps. There are some fabulous walks around here and, again, I can only wonder why I live in London. Or why we don’t come away to places like this at the weekend. It’s a bit of an effort, for sure, but we could do it if we wanted to. I used to like nothing more than going hillwalking. When did I last do that? My thighs burn if I have to walk up a staircase now. When we do have time off work, we always do what Harry wants to do, which seems to involve not much more than sitting in a pub or, at best, a cinema. It’s only when you have time to stop and think that it brings it home to you. I can’t believe that I’ve got so out of touch with what I actually want to do with my life.
Ella brings out fresh, buttery croissants and puts them on the table along with creamy butter and some plum jam that she’s bought at a local farmers’ market.
‘The supermarket might be miles away, but they have all the necessary requisites for the good life,’ she says. ‘Croissants, coffee, chocolate, champagne.’
As the rest of us tuck in hungrily, I notice that Ella doesn’t eat anything herself. But, before I can ask her if she’s all right, Noah arrives. I hoped that listening to him and Flick having sex for the best part of the night would make me feel more ambivalent towards him. But no. No such luck. The minute I clap eyes on him, my hormones go into overdrive once more.
It’s not helped by the fact that he’s wearing cropped combats that hang low, low on his hips and black leather flip-flops. That’s it. Sum and total of attire.
‘Hey,’ he says. His eyes travel first to me and he smiles. All coherent thought goes out of my head and my mouth can’t form a reply. Then he sees the true object of his affections and his gaze moves to Flick. ‘Sorry I slept in.’
‘That’s what holidays are for,’ Ella assures him. ‘Help yourself.’
‘Thanks.’
He passes behind Flick, who tucks a finger into the top of his combats and pulls him down to sit next to her. In his hand, he has a short-sleeved white shirt, which he pulls on, but doesn’t button.
‘Here, let me,’ Flick says. ‘What would you like to drink?’
‘Tea,’ he answers. ‘White, two sugars.’
Flick makes a big fuss of pouring it out for him.
‘Want a croissant?’ she asks. This is the most solicitous I’ve ever seen her.
‘Hmm. Sounds good.’
‘You need to eat,’ she purrs in his ear. ‘Keep your strength up. You were busy last night.’
Noah flushes and looks down at his plate. As well he might.
‘What does everyone want to do today?’ Ella asks. ‘There are some lovely beaches and some fabby places to go for a walk. We could head out to Trevallen and walk along the coast there. The views are spectacular and I know a nice country pub where we could go for a late lunch halfway round.’
‘Sounds great,’ Noah says.
‘Great,’ Flick echoes. ‘I love a long walk.’
Since when? Button it, Taylor.
‘Grace?’
‘I’m up for that,’ I add. ‘Are you sure you are?’
‘I’m fine,’ Ella says, waving away my concern. ‘Think Harry will be keen?’
‘I’m sure he will.’
I’m not actually at all sure that he will be, but as he’s not appeared to give his vote, I’ll put my own slant on it.
Plus I want to be occupied today. I want my body and mind to be busy enjoying themselves so that I don’t really have time to think about how unhappy I am.
Chapter Sixteen
When we’ve eaten all the croissants and drunk all the tea and coffee, Ella and I clear up. In the kitchen, she says to me, ‘Want me to warm some croissants for Harry?’
I shake my head. ‘He doesn’t usually eat anything in the morning.’ These days he’s normally too hung-over to eat and doesn’t have anything until after his first lunchtime glass of wine. ‘I noticed that you didn’t have anything.’
‘I’ll have a bit of toast in a minute,’ she assures me. ‘I’m feeling fine now. The fresh air must have done me good.’
‘Glad to hear it.’ I glance at the clock on the wall. ‘I thought Harry might have put in an appearance by now. I’ll go and get him up in a minute.’
‘There’s no rush,’ Ella says. ‘We’ll probably hang around in the house for a while yet. We’re all here to do nothing more than relax,’ she assures me. ‘No pressure.’
I lean against Ella. ‘You’re a good friend.’
‘No, you’re better.’
‘No, you’re the best.’
We laugh with each other and I realise that I don’t hear that sound often enough.
‘Struggling with Flick doing her “love’s young dream” act?’ Ella asks.
‘Do you think it’s an act?’
‘Yes. Isn’t it always?’
‘Maybe she’s changed. She certainly seems smitten.’
‘Think Noah is?’
I shrug. ‘That I don’t know.’ Even though I do nothing but think about it. ‘They kept me awake all night banging.’
Ella giggles. ‘What is she like?’
‘I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of finding out that I knew she was having a good time while I wasn’t. Is that mean of me?’
‘I would have done the same thing.’
‘Then you’re mean too.’ We giggle like schoolgirls.
‘Want to swap rooms?’
‘No. But if we go near somewhere that sells earplugs, then I’m going to get some. Big buggers!’
‘Hopefully, he’ll wear her out and she’ll sleep like the dead from Monday onwards.’
‘I can’t bear to think about it.’
And I can’t. Not even in a teasy way. Not for the reasons that Ella thinks.
She lowers her voice when she turns to me and asks, ‘Do you think that Flick ever thinks about what happened with her teacher?’
‘Yes,’ I say, honestly. ‘More than she’d admit.’
‘That was years ago now.’
‘I don’t think that scars like that ever heal.’ I lean against the cupboards and my mind goes back to our days in the flat, the parade of unsuitable men, her preference for ones she couldn’t have, her reckless promiscuity. ‘I’m sure it’s the reason she chases after married men. Get her on a psychotherapist’s couch and they could have a jamboree with her.’
Ella folds the tea towel and leans against the Aga. ‘We’re all pretty messed up just underneath the surface,’ she concludes. ‘Look at me and Art. We’re not exactly a textbook couple.’
‘But you’ve made it work,’ I say. ‘In your own way.’
‘It’s not ideal, though, and I don’t know how much longer I can put up with it.’ Ella tries a laugh. ‘Scratch me and you’ll reveal a seething mass of resentment. Why do you think I paint such angry pictures?’
‘And all along I just thought you had Short Person’s Complex.’
We both giggle at that.
‘Please tell me that you and Harry are doing better now. I’m worried that you look so sad.’
I thought I was hiding it so well.
‘I know that everything hasn’t been great,’ she continues. ‘Let at least one of us out of the three be holding it together.’
I’d already told Ella some months ago, over a glass or two of wine, that we were having a bit of a rough time, without going into too much detail. She doesn’t know that we’re rapidly spiralling apart, haven’t made love in months or that, to add fuel to the fire, I’m currently yearning for another man.
‘We’re still not right,’ I admit. ‘I’m hoping this week will help us to sort things out a bit.’
This would be a good time to tell Ella how I feel about Noah. She would offer some sensible words to stabilise the situation. She would warn me that no good could come of it. But I don’t. I keep quiet. I keep my guilty secret to myself.
Ella comes and hugs me and, suddenly, I feel like crying. ‘You deserve to be happy, Grace. We all do. Whatever that takes.’
Then she gi
ves me the tea towel and I sob silently into it.
Chapter Seventeen
We all pull up in a line together at the car park in Trevallen. I refused to let Harry take the Bentley as I’m sure he’d still be over the limit. Plus the car is such a stupid, ostentatious thing that I can’t bring myself to drive it. Instead, Harry and I piled in with Flick and Noah for the short journey over here. Now we clamber out of the back of Noah’s ancient Range Rover. It’s rusting, covered in dents and scratches, and needs a bloody good wash. It looks like a car that’s used for day-to-day business on the estate, not a car that marks you down as a pompous prick. I may have read Flick wrong as, previously, she wouldn’t have been seen dead in a car like this.