“Hey, Bree, you need to turn on the power at the mains,” called Cate. “I’ve plugged in the kettle but nothing’s happening.”
Bree padded into the hallway and looked for the mains. Her feet were cold now from the soaking they’d received while they were pulling Cate out of the mud and from the chill of the tiles beneath her. She located the panel and looked at it.
“The power is on,” she informed Cate. “Are you sure there’s nothing happening?”
Cate hit the light switch. “Nada,” she said.
Bree looked at the fuses. They were all fine. The board was on. There should be power. She turned it off, then on again. “Try it now,” she called.
“Still nothing,” said Cate.
“Flippin’ heck,” said Nessa. “Don’t tell me we’ve been cut off.”
“Maybe the rain has caused some problems with the electricity,” said Bree. “That happens sometimes.”
They stood in the kitchen and looked out of the window. By now the rain was so heavy that they could barely see the car.
“You might be right,” said Cate and then shrieked as a sudden flash of lightning lit up the sky.
“Oh my God!” cried Nessa. “That was almost on top of us.”
“That means it’ll be gone soon,” said Bree comfortingly. “Then the electricity will probably come back and everything will dry out.”
“You’re sounding very optimistic,” said Cate.
“Don’t worry, Cate. Things’ll be fine,” said Bree.
“I’d really love a cup of coffee,” said Cate plaintively. “I haven’t had coffee since that muck on the flight.”
“That’s a good thing,” said Nessa. “Now that you’re pregnant you should cut down on the coffee anyway.”
“Don’t tell me we’re going to have a whole week of you telling me what I should and shouldn’t be doing because I’m pregnant,” said Cate.
“No.” Nessa shook her head. “I’m just saying that you’d be better off having herbal tea or something.”
“I drink herbal tea quite a lot,” Cate informed her. “But right now I’d love a cup of coffee. Strong black coffee.”
“There’s loads of cafés near the beach,” said Bree. “You could get coffee at any of them.”
“If you think I’m stepping outside in this…”
Another flash of lightning ripped through the sky and lit up the room. It was followed by a crash of thunder so loud that the cups on the sideboard rattled.
“Jesus,” breathed Nessa. “That’s definitely on top of us.”
“Why don’t we go to bed for a while,” suggested Bree. “We could get a bit of rest and wait for the rain to ease off. Then, if the electricity hasn’t come back, we could go out and get something to eat and drink.”
“I’m starving now,” said Cate. “And I couldn’t possibly sleep with that racket going on.”
“Have a Mars bar if you’re hungry.” Nessa took one from her bag.
“Ugh, Nessa, they’re crowded with calories,” said Cate.
“Make up your bloody mind then,” cried Nessa. “If you’re hungry, eat it. If not, I will.”
“Is this our only food?” asked Bree anxiously.
“I have two more Mars bars,” said Nessa. “And three apples.”
“I didn’t bring any food,” said Bree. “I thought we’d go shopping when we got here.”
“I have a jar of coffee,” said Cate. “That’s all.”
They looked at each other.
“I’ll eat the Mars bar,” said Cate. “And I’ll do what Bree says and go to bed. It can’t rain all day and I am tired. Maybe I’ll drop off in spite of the thunder.”
“Right,” said Bree. “See you later.”
They disappeared into the bedrooms and lay down. The rain continued to beat against the roof. And the lightning continued to split the sky above them.
More than an hour later Nessa got up and went into the living room. She looked out of the window at the ever increasing puddle outside the villa. At this point it resembled a small lake. But the rain had eased off a little. Instead of pelting down in an unremitting sheet as it had earlier, it was now falling in a gentle hiss. A soft day, as they’d call it at home, she thought and hoped that it was the beginning of the end of the storm.
She tried the lights but the electricity was obviously still off. She hoped it would come back before the end of the day, she desperately needed a shower and she was simply gasping for a hot drink of some description. She looked at her shoes which she’d left just inside the door. They were soaked through although the earth clinging to them had started to dry out.
Only I could come on holiday, she thought, and be sitting in an ice-cold renovated farmhouse with nothing to eat or drink. Adam would laugh at her when she told him. Whenever they’d gone away as a family he was the one who took charge of everything. And he was good at it. She’d never had a holiday disaster with Adam. No matter where they went, he was prepared. When they went to hot climates he brought anti-mosquito sprays and face spritzers and all sorts of things that she wouldn’t even bother with. Last year they’d gone to Scotland. It had rained in Scotland, despite the fact that they’d traveled in August, but he’d been prepared for that too and had brought wet weather clothes and boots so that they coped with the conditions better than anyone else there. Having decided against a holiday during the summer this year they’d gone to France for a week at Easter instead. The weather had been mild without the blazing heat that Nessa liked but which Adam really didn’t. They’d had a good time in France, she remembered, as she curled up on the sofa and pulled the cushions around her. She’d enjoyed every minute of it.
Had Adam? she wondered. Had he simply pretended to enjoy it but instead been pining for triple x Annika, the client who was touchy feely and to whom he had to be touchy feely back? She leaned her head against a cushion. Somehow it was easier to believe in him having an affair with Annika when she was here, a couple of thousand miles away. When she was home, seeing him every day, she didn’t think him capable of having an affair. From a distance, it was easier to imagine.
She shook her head. It wasn’t something she wanted to imagine. After her periods of equal rage and despair she’d tried to put the whole episode out of her head. She’d made her choice. She’d chosen to believe Adam and work at her marriage and this holiday was meant to be a kind of closure for her so that she could come home and start again with him. So that she could banish those thoughts forever.
“Hi.” Cate walked into the living room. “How’re you?”
“I couldn’t sleep,” said Nessa. “The thunder was so loud and the rain so heavy that I kept thinking the roof was going to cave in. When it eased off I couldn’t get used to the quiet either!”
Cate laughed. “I did sleep for a while and then I woke up with a jump and didn’t know where I was.”
Nessa smiled sympathetically.
“It’s cold, isn’t it?” Cate sat down on the sofa beside her and covered her feet with spare cushions.
“I have socks in my suitcase,” said Nessa. “I was thinking of going out to get them but it’s still a mudbath out there.”
“Has it stopped yet?” Cate peered at the window.
Nessa shook her head. “Eased off, that’s all.”
“What are we going to do about food? I’m absolutely ravenous.”
“I’ve no idea,” said Nessa. “I assume there’s a supermarket of some sort nearby.”
“There’s nothing nearby,” said Cate acidly. “We’re in the middle of an orange field.”
Nessa giggled. “Orange grove.”
“That sounds warm and romantic,” said Cate. “I’m neither.”
“Hello.” Bree walked into the room, her hair tousled, her eyes still sleepy. “I heard you guys yakking. What’s up?”
“The rain has eased off, there’s a lake outside the front door and we’re dying of starvation,” Nessa informed her. “And we’re still without electricity.”
“Oh, God.” Bree groaned. “What d’you want to do?”
“Don’t ask me,” said Nessa. “You’re the one who lived here.”
“Not here,” said Bree. “I was about fifty miles up the coast.”
“You mean you haven’t a clue what’s nearby?”
“Vaguely,” said Bree. “I met Dolores on the beach last time I was here.”
“Why don’t you ring her?” asked Cate suddenly. “Maybe she’ll be able to tell us about the shops and the electricity.”
“God, but you’re smart!” Nessa looked at her in mock admiration.
Bree grinned and took out her phone. Then she groaned.
“No signal,” she informed them.
“This is officially the holiday from hell,” said Nessa.
“We need to find a shop,” said Cate. “If I don’t get some food soon I’ll collapse.”
“That doesn’t sound a bit like you, Catey,” said Bree. “I’d have thought you’d be happy to be on an enforced diet.”
Cate sighed. “Normally, yes. But in the last two weeks I’ve been eating for seven. I suppose it’s probably a good thing to cut back but whenever I do I just get incredibly cranky and light-headed.”
“I think there’s a hypermarket farther down the main road,” Bree said. “We could go there.”
“But we need something to eat now,” said Nessa. “There’s no point in buying food if we can’t actually cook anything.”
“I’m sure there’ll be a cafeteria attached to it,” said Bree. “There nearly always is here.”
“Lead me to it!” cried Cate.
“I’ll drive this time,” said Nessa. “You must be knackered, Bree.”
“I don’t mind,” said Bree.
“Oh, let her drive,” said Cate. “She’s been aching to have a go ever since we got here.”
“Actually no,” said Nessa. “I hate driving in the rain. But I’m happy to inform you that it has now stopped and there’s even a scrap of blue appearing in the top corner of the window.”
“Yes!” Bree rushed over and looked out. “Although scrap is the operative word, Ness. Still, better than nothing. I told you it’d stop.”
“After half an hour you said.”
“I lied.” Bree shrugged.
They piled into the car again and Nessa began to turn it cautiously.
“Back up a bit,” suggested Bree.
Nessa shot her a dark look and slid the car into reverse. At least it had completely stopped raining now, she thought, with relief. She edged backward and then put the car into first again. The tires whirred. The car didn’t move.
“Oh shit!” She revved the car some more.
“Don’t! Don’t!” cried Bree. “You’ll dig it in deeper!”
They got out of the car. The tires had sunk into the soft, wet soil and the three sisters knew that there was no way it was coming out again in a hurry.
“Oh—my—God,” said Cate slowly. “You’ve practically buried it, Nessa.”
“It wasn’t my fault,” said Nessa quickly. “Bree told me to reverse.”
“Reverse, I said. Not speed backward into the puddle!”
“I didn’t speed backward into the puddle,” said Nessa. “You know I didn’t.”
“I never should’ve let you drive.”
“You would’ve done better, would you?”
“I couldn’t have done any worse.”
“Nessa, Bree, shut up.” Cate snapped. “There’s no point arguing about it. We need to get the damned car out of the damned mud before it goes down any farther.”
Bree knelt down and looked at the tires. “It’s really stuck,” she said. “We’ll never get it out.”
“We need to put something under the tires,” said Cate. “Give them a bit of grip.”
“Like what?” Nessa looked around helplessly.
Cate shrugged. “Cardboard would be best.”
“Right.” Nessa nodded. “I’ll just shred the cardboard box I brought with me, shall I? What fucking cardboard?” Her voice rose to a shriek. “We don’t have any cardboard, you idiot.”
“Don’t call me an idiot,” cried Cate. “I’m not the one who sank the car.”
They stared at each other in tense silence. Then Nessa’s mouth began to twitch. Suddenly she began to laugh. Cate and Bree watched her, smiles playing on their lips. Her laughter was infectious. They began to laugh too.
“It’s surreal.” Nessa wiped her eyes. “Here we are in the middle of the countryside with no electricity, no food and a car practically buried in the mud. And we thought it would be warm and sunny and we’d be getting away from it all.” She laughed again. “I didn’t realize that we were somehow bringing it all with us.”
Cate grinned at her. “The Driscoll family personal black cloud?”
“But the cloud has gone,” said Bree. “It’s actually quite sunny now.”
“So what are you suggesting?” asked Nessa. “That we wait for the ground to dry out and then drive?”
“There’s no way this’ll be dry until tomorrow,” said Bree. “Look at it, for heaven’s sake!”
“I can’t last until tomorrow without something to eat,” said Cate. “I’ll faint with hunger before then.”
“I never thought I’d hear those words,” murmured Nessa. She stood back from the car, her hands on her hips. She could feel the warmth of the sun on her back now and she wriggled with pleasure.
“There might be some planks of wood or waste behind the house,” said Bree. “Something we could use, at least.”
“Let’s look.” Cate led them around the back where they searched for anything that might work. The topsoil was beginning to dry out, and steam rose in a gentle spiral from a cloth which hung over a makeshift washing line.
Eventually Nessa gave a cry of delight and held aloft a brown cardboard box which she’d found in the tiny outhouse. “Believe it or not!” she yelled. “The very thing.”
“Peachy,” said Bree.
They brought the box to the front of the villa and tore wide pieces from it which they placed under the wheels of the car.
“OK,” said Bree. “Best thing would be for Cate to get behind the wheel and you and I can give it a push, Nessa. What d’you think?”
Nessa and Cate both nodded. Cate got into the driver’s seat, making expressions of disgust as yet more mud fell from her shoes and ended up in the footwell.
“Are you ready?” called Bree.
“Absolutely.” Cate started the car and revved it loudly. Bree and Nessa positioned themselves behind it and began to push.
“Now,” shouted Bree as she felt the car move a little.
Cate let out the clutch and the Mondeo leaped forward. She kept it going and stopped a yard farther down the driveway where the ground was solid. Then she turned back to look for Bree and Nessa.
“It’s just not our day,” she said as she got out of the car. Her two sisters were on all fours in the mud, having been unable to stay upright when the car had moved.
“You OK?” she asked.
They looked up at her. Their faces were splattered with mud and their clothes were utterly ruined.
“Couldn’t be better,” said Nessa and dissolved into fits of laughter once again.
31
Virgo August 24th–September 22nd
Shy, self-critical, easily hurt.
Every so often, and completely out of the blue, Nessa would start to laugh again. And each time she did, both Cate and Bree joined in, unable to help themselves. They laughed at the supermarket checkout (where the assistant looked curiously at their mud-streaked clothes and ratty hair), they laughed back at the villa (where the electricity had been restored and where Nessa discovered that the cooker was, actually, gas and so they could’ve heated up water in a saucepan for a hot drink any time if any of them had had their wits about them) and they laughed again that night as they sat in a small seafront restaurant and drank coffee having stuffed themselves with food ea
rlier.
Three days into their holiday, as she stretched out her beach towel on the pale golden sand, Nessa chuckled again. Cate looked at her inquiringly.
“It’s just the memory of your face when you saw us,” said Nessa. “Total shock.”
“You looked indescribable,” said Cate.
“As you did when you were stuck in the mud,” Bree reminded her.
“It’s one of those things that’s going to haunt me,” Cate said. “This holiday has already acquired the status of a legend.”
“It’s been fun though,” said Nessa. “I haven’t laughed so much in ages.”
“Neither have I,” admitted Cate. She rubbed cream onto her legs and replaced the cap on the tube. She was turning a pale golden brown and she felt healthy for the first time in weeks. She lay back on her towel and looked at the swell of her stomach through her stretchy Lycra swimsuit. She looked pregnant in the swimsuit, she thought, although both Nessa and Bree had told her that she just looked like a normal person. But she knew she didn’t.
Before she’d got pregnant, when she went to the gym, she used to stride confidently to the swimming pool, certain that her body was almost perfect under the unforgiving tightness of her swimsuit. She used to look at other people as they wandered around the pool area and quietly congratulate herself on the fact that she had no bulges where bulges shouldn’t be. But she wouldn’t be able to do that anymore. Soon her stomach would be completely out of control and she didn’t know whether—despite her plans for a very strict diet and workout regimen—she’d ever get it back again. She wondered whether or not people would look at her in the future and see the tone and perfection she’d always strived so hard to achieve and maintain with her body. Or whether they’d simply see a sagging stomach and drooping boobs.
Unlike the girl who was lying a few yards away from them, her stomach taut as a drum and her long legs elegantly stretched out in front of her. Hers was the figure of a person who would never dream of spoiling it by anything as traumatic as childbirth. It was the figure of someone who took looking good very seriously indeed. But it was also the figure of someone who hadn’t had any qualms about the surgeon’s knife. A pair of rounded breasts proudly displayed like two inverted suction cups were a tribute to his skills. By rights (children or no children) breasts of that magnitude should have flopped either side of her chest but these were upright and firm with flopping never a likelihood. They probably looked great underneath a T-shirt, Cate mused, but they looked bloody silly perched on her body like that now. They detracted from the overall perfection rather than enhancing it. Maybe real perfection, natural perfection, wasn’t an option after all. For anyone.
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