‘God, I seriously hope I don’t spill any of this sacred red liquid on the white table cloth!’ jokes Rachel, using a napkin to wipe her eyes.
The joke is completely lost on the holiday makers on the table next to them who seem to be possessed by the sombre mood of the place and sit in almost total silence.
The Sangría is stronger than they had imagined, containing not only red wine and fruit juice, but some sort of spirits too. Very tasty and good value, but, nonetheless, they decide not to go into the Picasso museum after all. The fear of having to pay for thousands of pounds’ worth of damage to valuable works of Art persuades them to change their minds!
Isabel suggests a saunter through the Old Town, with its narrow winding, cobbled streets. The buildings are stunning. Beautiful carvings and wrought-iron decorative Juliette balconies. The streets are so narrow in places that they can sometimes stand in the middle and touch the buildings either side with out-stretched arms. They stumble across little souvenir shops, where they buy a few silly presents for the people back home. Miniature bottles of Sangría with little sombreros on top, magnets and key rings with flamenco dancers and fluffy black bulls dangling from them! Isabel buys a pretty, hand painted plate for Joan, as a thank-you gift.
They decide to stop at a busy Tapas Bar with small wooden stools and tables out on the street. They order potato croquettes with spinach and prawns and a big plate of patatas bravas, chunks of fried potatoes, covered in a spicy tomato sauce. They also give in to a glass of Rioja each, a delicious red wine, recommended by the friendly waiter. His enthusiasm for everything on the menu is infectious and the tables fill up very quickly around them.
He was right though! The food is delicious and the wine does complement it perfectly. They both fight to wipe the remainder of the spicy sauce from the plate with slices of crusty bread, ‘delicioso!’ smiles Isabel to the waiter, ‘muy rico, gracias’ she continues to praise, gaining confidence.
Rachel goes in to find the loo whilst Isabel settles the bill, leaving a good tip. She checks her phone quickly for messages and is surprised to see one from Paul. ‘Oh god no,’ she whispers to herself, with one hand on her chest, her heart in her mouth:
Hi, spoke to Stephen. He told me ur back on Sunday, can’t wait to cu. Wanted to leave u a surprise in the house but someone changed the locks? I love u Iz and I’ll make it up to u, promise xxx
Rachel returns from the bathroom and wastes no time in grabbing the phone from Isabel’s hand and reading the message, having guessed instantly from her paralysed state who the message was from.
‘Well, you know what I think?! If you go back now, he’s going to be hammering on your door and stalking you until you take him back. That message is screaming “Fatal Attraction” to me Izzy.’
Isabel stares down at the scratched wooden table in front of her. Rachel grabs her by the shoulder and crouches down to her level beside the stool. ‘Stay on here for a while Iz. You have another five weeks before term starts for you anyway.’
‘I don’t know Rach. It’s one thing being here with you, but alone?!’ she pouts.
Rachel grabs her friend by the hand and pulls her up. ‘Come on, we may even be able to set you up with a little job, if you’re lucky!’ she winks.
‘What?? Is that why you arranged to meet this bloke? Rach, you are such a meddler! I hadn’t even decided whether I was staying... and I don’t teach Spanish or English, I teach French!’ she argues, defensively.
Rachel shrugs ‘Surely that doesn’t make a lot of difference, I mean you’re a teacher, aren’t you? And you’re English!!’
Isabel sighs and allows herself to be pulled along, through the maze of little side streets, out into the light of the main road with the port on the other side.
‘It’s nearly four o’clock,’ says Rachel, ‘let’s see if we can find him. We don’t have to stay long if you don’t want to. Remember, nobody’s forcing you to stay in a lovely beach-side house with a hot tub and a sea view where the sun shines every day!! You can always choose to go back to your cheating, obsessive boyfriend?!’ she laughs, sarcastically pulling her friend into a warm hug as they make their way through the crowds of people towards a bar with prominent white parasols.
‘There he is!’ shouts Rachel, waving her shopping bags in the air as if she’d known him for years. Isabel follows reluctantly as she recognises the man from the plane. He looks more relaxed than she remembers, and less formally dressed in beige trousers and a white shirt, open at the neck.
‘Hello ladies, how lovely to see you again! How are you enjoying my beautiful country?’ he greets them with a kiss on each cheek. ‘The sun suits you! You both look radiant.’
‘Thank you. Shall we sit down?’ leads Rachel.
Very suave, thinks Isabel, as he begins to order for all of them without even asking their preference.
‘So how do you like Málaga? Such a beautiful city, no? Many students love to come here for the culture and beaches and of course... the night life!’ laughs Rafael proudly, looking Isabel up and down as she straightens the straps of her sundress.
‘Oh it’s great, isn’t it, Iz? We’ve had such a lovely day. Luckily Isabel used to learn Spanish a long time ago and she remembers enough to be able to order food and drink for us, don’t you Iz?’ Rachel looks at her friend, encouragingly.
‘Yes, a little,’ she answers shyly, ‘I teach French in England so unfortunately have forgotten a lot of my Spanish.’
‘We are very short of teachers at the moment. I don’t suppose you’d be interested in a job here at my Language School, would you? Rachel mentioned on the phone that you may be staying on a little longer?’ he asks, leaning forward with interest.
‘Well, I...’ stammers Isabel, feeling uncomfortable.
‘It would be English of course, but I’m sure you’d have no problems with that would you? I mean you have all the skills of a Modern Language teacher!’
‘I’d have to think about it...’ mutters Isabel, not expecting a coffee with “Mr Window Seat” to turn into a job offer and oh my goodness... an absolutely enormous Gin and Tonic with a thick black straw.
‘That is one big goblet of Gin!!’ laughs Rachel gleefully, pouring in the cold fizzy tonic and watching the thick slice of lemon float to the top.
‘Of course, you think about it Isabel,’ says Rafael seriously, then turns to Rachel laughing at her reaction to the drink in front of her.
The conversation becomes more relaxed as the gin takes effect. Isabel slips off her pumps and puts her feet up on the empty chair opposite, enjoying the afternoon heat of the sun.
‘You could easily pass for Spanish you know, Isabel!’ says Rafael.
‘Ha ha, yes, I spent years of my childhood hating my Hispanic looks. I was teased for them. Most of my friends were pale and blonde. I sort of stood out like a sore thumb,’ she giggles into her drink, stirring the big tubular ice cubes with her straw.
‘Do you know; I think I might like to take up on your offer of a few hours teaching... as long as you have text books that I could borrow to prepare in advance. It might be fun! And if I’m going to be here for a few weeks then it would be good to meet some new people. Maybe I could even sit in on some Spanish classes myself?!’ she smiles.
‘Fantastic!’ says Rafael, rising from his chair, encouraging both girls to do likewise and join him in a toast. ‘To languages and friendship!’
‘Languages and friendship,’ Rachel and Isabel repeat, giggling over the raised glasses.
They sit down in companionable silence for a while, enjoying watching people stroll by, the ferries filling up with excitable families, couples browsing menus outside the restaurants and the general hub-bub of life down at the Port.
‘I love it down here,’ says Isabel dreamily.
‘Well then you won’t be disappointed by the location of the school,’ smiles Rafael, ‘It’s just off the main street behind us. You can come and have your lunch down here when you finish teaching!’
> Isabel slips her feet back into her shoes and turns to face them both. ‘Really?! Oh what a perfect place for a school!’
‘Come on Monday at about 9.30 a.m., if you can, and I’ll show you around, give you resources, organise a timetable, that sort of thing. I’ll send you details of how to find us,’ he says formally, taking out his phone. ‘If you give me your email address I’ll send them later this evening.’
‘Great, thank you so much,’ smiles Isabel, taking his phone and entering her own number and email. ‘We have a party to go to tomorrow night so I’ll have the weekend to recover!’ she continues, looking up and grinning happily at her friend.
Chapter 22
‘Leanne, thank goodness you’re here! Mum is in a panic about the canapés or something and I’ve just spent the whole morning worrying that you weren’t going to turn up! You haven’t changed your mind, have you?’ he asks, holding her hands firmly in his and searching her eyes for any hint of doubt.
‘Qué tonto eres! You’re so silly, how could I ever change my mind?! I was just a bit held up in traffic, that’s all. I offered to give some of the others a lift home,’ she says, tucking a loose golden lock of hair behind her ear and looking up at him.
‘I’ve missed you,’ Marcos whispers with a sincerity that makes Leanne’s stomach flip.
‘Me too darling,’ she answers, as she leans her head against his chest and wraps her arms around his waist.
‘Por fin, at last!’ cries María from her terrace looking stressed and overheated, fanning herself with a thick piece of card, which Leanne assumes is the menu! ‘Can you come and help me with some of these canapés, I’m not at all sure about some of them. Come, come and look at the list!’ she says in a crisp, urgent voice walking back into the house and waving her hand frantically behind her, beckoning Leanne to follow.
‘Looks like you are needed my beautiful,’ Marcos smiles as Leanne rubs a teasing hand down his back and slowly follows her mother-in-law-to-be into her villa. She spins around on her heels on the terrace and shouts down, ‘I’ll see you later!’ and blows him a kiss.
Apparently men weren’t allowed to be involved in the organisation of this party at all. His father, Pedro, had left earlier to play a round of golf with his friends at the Club and Marcos had offered several times but his willingness to help is seen merely as interference.
He is in a good mood though. Apparently Rafael met a girl yesterday who is an English teacher and keen to start work on Monday for about a month. That will reduce class sizes considerably and make the courses more attractive. He smiles to himself, tosses his car keys into the air and catches them behind his back, deciding to make himself scarce for a while. Leanne will be, no doubt, kept busy for a few hours yet and then she’ll need at least two hours to get herself ready for the party.
In the cool, spacious, air-conditioned kitchen Leanne finds María perched on a tall cushioned stool with a back rest, rubbing her forehead with her manicured hand. ‘We have to choose ten from this list, the caterers tell me,’ she says, as she turns to Leanne, holding out the list of printed canapés, ‘and the lights are proving to be difficult to install... the DJ won’t arrive until ten o’clock now and I’m still not sure we have ordered enough champagne...’
Leanne pulls herself up onto the stool next to Marcos’s mother and scans the list of delicacies. The assortment is incredible. ‘How do they even come up with this many?!’ she smiles, shaking her head in disbelief, ‘look, María, cariño, calm down. It will all be amazing. It’s an engagement party, not a wedding and I’m sure everyone will have a wonderful time! The last thing we need is a stressed-out hostess. How can you expect anyone to relax and enjoy themselves if you’re running around having palpitations?!’ she laughs lightly, rubbing Maria’s shoulder in sympathy.
Leanne scans the list, runs a perfect French-manicured nail over her lips and continues. ‘Firstly, we’ll have music from Marcos’s iPod anyway, so it really doesn’t matter what time the DJ arrives. Secondly, who cares about lights?? The pool is lit up anyway, so is the terrace. We’re hardly going to be in the dark! Thirdly, we’ll have more than enough to drink. Remember, practically every second person will be driving home, unless they live close enough to get a taxi... and don’t even start worrying about soft drinks!’ Leanne laughs, anticipating her next question. ‘Now, canapé’s, let’s see...’
‘I’m so glad you’re here Lea. You and Marcos are going to be so happy together. I just want everything to be perfect for you,’ she says full of emotion, as tears threaten to spill down her cheeks.
‘And it will be, you’ll see. Right... the prawn and Marie-Rose sauce definitely, mozzarella and tomato, goats cheese and caramelised onion, anchovies... ooohhh and smoked salmon and cream cheese, my favourite! Now you choose five and we’re done!’ says Leanne cheerily, having ticked her “top five”.
As Maria chooses the remaining five, Leanne wanders over to the fridge and pours them both a glass of cava. She chuckles, as she looks over at her, chewing the end of the pen as if struggling with a particularly difficult multiple-choice exam!
‘Done!’ Maria declares happily, placing the pen down on the work surface and accepting the glass of bubbly from Leanne.
‘Now, what are you wearing tonight mamá?!’ Leanne asks.
‘Oh, I do love it when you call me that!’ smiles Maria, taking a sip of her drink, ‘I’m not going to scare the young people by getting into my bikini so I bought myself a new dress especially. You’ll see it later! Its hanging on my wardrobe door. I love it! Not too over the top but very me!’ she chuckles.
Leanne instantly has an image in her head. María is very straight-laced and traditional. It will be a calf-length, beige cotton dress with a lace cardigan or something similar, she smiles to herself.
‘Don’t tell me... a gold backless number?!’ she teases, as María begins to relax and joins in the laughter.
‘And whatever you wear, you’ll look gorgeous!’ smiles María proudly, ‘what time do your parents arrive?’
‘They landed early this morning so I expect they’ll be having a nap at their hotel. They’ll be here by about 7.30 p.m. I think. Now, if there are no more emergencies, I think I’m going to go and get ready. Marcos and I are in the ‘Blue suite’ tonight, aren’t we?’
‘Yes darling, of course. Marcos brought all of the things you asked for over to the house this morning. Let me know if you need anything cielo,’ says María and she kisses Leanne fondly on both cheeks.
Chapter 23
‘I think we can safely say that we caught some rays today Iz. And look...’ Rachel turns around proudly in her towel on the roof terrace, ‘no strap marks, whoooo!’
Isabel raises her eyebrows, impressed. ‘Right, now you’ve plucked and waxed yourself to oblivion are you going to join me in a pre-party glass of cava in this hot tub or not? I’m getting lonely up here!’ she laughs.
‘Hang on a minute, don’t blame me! It’s only because you spent three hours in there before me!’ Rachel teases.
Isabel has her recently washed hair piled up on top of her head in a band and Rachel has painted her nails a gorgeous, deep chocolate colour for her, seeing as she still struggles with her bandaged fingers.
‘You’ll do my hair later too though, yeah? I’m getting a bit nervous now. Come on, get pouring!’ Isabel adds in a voice an octave higher than usual.
‘Of course, you’ll look like a very glamourous Cleopatra by the time I’ve finished with you! But... maybe lighter on the eye-liner!’
Rachel lowers herself in the tub next to her friend and they toast to a perfect evening. ‘We’ve still got three hours before your mum and dad get here. 8.30 p.m. you said?’
‘Yes, plenty of time to get myself worked-up into a frenzy!’ Isabel laughs. ‘You know when you try on a dress in the changing rooms of a shop and you realise that it’s too small? You’re standing with your arms up in the air, the dress over your head and you suddenly have that horrible, claustrophobic fe
eling that you can neither pull it up or down... you’re stuck...??’
‘Hmmmmm?!...’ mumbles Rachel, giving her friend a worried glance.
‘That’s how I feel at the moment,’ says Isabel seriously, looking over the rooftops. She takes a big slug of cava.
‘Like you have a dress on your head?!’ asks Rachel, looking confused.
‘No, not literally! I mean, the panic! I’m stuck in an unavoidable situation. I want the dress but I can’t have it... I know it’s too small but I still have to go through trying it on, just in case I’m wrong. You see what I mean?’
‘Not really Iz,’ says Rachel, turning to face her friend, watching the tortured look on her face.
‘Marcos is the dress,’ she says adamantly.
‘Marcos is the dress?!’ Rachel repeats, frowning.
‘Yes. I want Marcos, but I can’t have him. He’s engaged to somebody else, someone he fits, somebody else... but we still have to go through the performance of seeing each other, possibly even rekindling that feeling that we felt all those years ago, but it’s futile!’
‘Iz, you really do like this bloke, don’t you?’ Rachel asks with sympathy when she suddenly realises how difficult this must be for her friend.
‘I never forgot him Rachel, I just didn’t know where he was and thought he was unobtainable, I suppose. Then I got all settled with Paul, who I still think I love, by the way, and gave up on the idea of Marcos... and now we’re going to be thrown together and it’s all too late,’ Isabel surprises them both with her outburst as she begins to sob angrily.
‘Oh Iz,’ sighs Rachel as she puts her arms around her best friend. ‘Listen, we can cancel the whole thing if you prefer. Call your parents?’
‘No,’ Isabel says firmly, ‘I’m just being stupid. I suppose I’ve just built the whole thing up in my head. I haven’t even seen him yet and he’s sending me loopy,’ she laughs, wiping her eyes and shaking her head at her embarrassing performance.
Waves of Betrayal (The Isabel Marsh Trilogy Book 1) Page 9
