Waves of Betrayal (The Isabel Marsh Trilogy Book 1)

by Michelle J. Bennett

  Hi Rach,

  I haven’t got long to tell you everything. I’m at Marcos’s house using his computer. It’s just quicker than using my phone and I can’t call you as he’s here, in the house with me.

  Don’t get too excited. It’s definitely not what you are probably thinking right now!

  Last night was a disaster, exactly as I knew it would be. Leanne was dressed like Little Miss Innocent, all sweetness and generosity in front of Marcos. She plays the game very well. We know that she has him wrapped around her little finger. The topic of Paul came up and, predictably, the little bitch leapt on the opportunity to accuse me of coming to Spain to steal her fiancé. Oh Rach, you would have been proud of me. Very subtly I made it clear to her that we know about her dirty affair and I could see that she was scared, guilt written all over her face.

  I should have gone home while things were going my way. We ended up drinking loads and the three of us went swimming. You won’t believe this, but I am convinced that Leanne tried to drown me. Something or someone yanked my hair under the water. They had to call an ambulance. Rach, she could have killed me! She lied to Marcos that my hair had got trapped in the filter and now she is being heralded as the bloody heroine. Since when did I become the bad guy?

  Marcos is so sweet, but so naïve, he believes every word she says.

  Rach, I need your advice urgently. Can you please email me back as soon as you get this?

  Miss you,

  Izzy xxxx

  Isabel logs out of her Hotmail and, collecting her folded clothes from the armchair, she heads into the bathroom for a long, hot shower.

  By the time she emerges from the steamy bathroom, she feels refreshed and less shaken. She logs back in to her email, Rachel has already replied.

  Izzy,

  I cannot believe that bitch. Are you sure? Listen, we’ll figure out a way to let Marcos know what sort of a girl he’s planning to marry, trust me. For now, play the game. Careful not to criticize Leanne in front of Marcos. That will just turn him against you... as tempting as it may be!! You said yourself, he believes every word she says.

  The decision will have to come from him. You have an advantage Iz. You’re with him. Just be yourself and things will fall in to place. Do you think he feels the same way as you? Has he given you any signs?

  Don’t do anything rash Isabel. You haven’t done anything wrong, please remember that.

  I’ve got to get to work. I’ll be in touch. Call me when you can.

  Lots of love

  Rach xxx

  Chapter 35

  Leanne walks as quickly as she can in her tight pencil skirt and three inch heels towards the glass doors of the hotel reception, zipping her car keys into her handbag. She glances up and sees that Lucy is already there waiting for her.

  ‘Thank goodness you got my message last night. Sorry it was so late,’ says Leanne, guiding her friend roughly by the elbow and greeting the receptionist as they pass. They make their way out into the empty courtyard where the guests will be served their breakfast in an hour’s time. She catches a waiter’s eye who is polishing cutlery on the other side of the patio and orders two coffees.

  ‘Leanne, what’s going on?’ asks Lucy, watching her unusually nervy friend shuffling in her chair, glancing around her frantically. She looks rough, she notices. Her hair is tied back into a simple pony tail and she is wearing minimal make up. Lucy is surprised, and a little scared, when she realises that Leanne is actually on the verge of tears. Leanne has always been the confident one, daring and fun-loving. Lucy cannot for the life of her imagine what has happened to cause her to be so out of control.

  They wait, as the coffee is placed in front of them by the young, smiling waiter who, thankfully, does not engage them in conversation. As soon as he is out of ear-shot Leanne leans in towards her friend, holding her cup with both hands. ‘I nearly killed someone Luce!’ she whispers, glancing around her again, nervously.

  ‘What?’ asks Lucy, smiling, thinking that this is another one of Leanne’s jokes.

  ‘Isabel,’ she says bluntly and pauses to take a sip of coffee, ‘in the pool.’

  ‘What?? When?? What do you mean?’ stammers Lucy, realising from the wild look in her friends’ eyes that she is actually telling the truth.

  ‘She knows I’m having an affair. The bitch let me know that her and her busty friend had seen me. She had me over the ropes... I snapped.’

  Lucy places her cup carefully on the table in front of her. ‘But... how...?’

  ‘We were in the pool and Marcos went inside to get another towel and I just did it... I grabbed her hair and pulled her under,’ she says, her hands shaking, spilling coffee into her saucer, ‘I was just so angry.’

  ‘Woah, Lea, hang on. You let her go, though?’ asks Lucy, pushing her cup away from her.

  ‘Only because Marcos came back... I told him that her hair was caught in the filter. She’s ok. Shit Lucy, I was just so desperate... it’s obvious that he likes her. I don’t know what to do,’ she says, hanging her head as tears begin to fall on the linen table cloth. ‘They’re even going for a cosy walk in the mountains on Saturday,’ she hisses and pulls a tissue from her handbag.

  ‘Well... why don’t you go too?’ asks Lucy, gently.

  ‘Because I don’t like the fucking mountains and well, I sort of said you and I were going to a spa,’ she answers, ripping her tissue into shreds and piling it up on the table cloth in front of her.

  Lucy stares pointedly at her friend, suddenly feeling less sorry for her. ‘David?’ she asks.

  ‘Well, yes, but I told you, I’ll finish with him as soon as Marcos and I are married,’ she says innocently, flattening the pile of torn tissue with the palm of her hand in frustration.

  Lucy stands abruptly, taking her bag from the back of her chair and stares down at Leanne, ‘Leanne, you are my friend, but what you are doing is wrong, way beyond wrong. Marcos loves you, we all know that, but you need to take a good hard look at yourself and work out what you want because you are out of control,’ she hisses, pointing a finger in Leanne’s face.

  Leanne has never seen her friend so angry.

  ‘He is not some sort of toy you can pick up and put down when you feel like it. I may not be a fucking saint either, but even I can see that what you’re doing is wrong and you’re actually scaring me... I won’t have any part of this Leanne, it’s not fair on anybody.’ Lucy straightens her jacket, spins around on her heels and starts to walk away.

  ‘Lucy, wait,’ pleads Leanne, ‘what should I do?’

  Lucy stops in her stride and turns back to look at her friend. ‘Stop the affair or leave Marcos,’ she says simply and walks off.

  Leanne gathers up the shredded tissue, makes her way through reception and locks herself in a toilet cubicle. She sits there for a while, staring down at her shoes and then sends a text message from her mobile to her boss telling her that she is ill and won’t be in today. I really don’t care if anyone says that they have seen me and, anyway, she thinks, I’ve been locked in these toilets for the last twenty minutes.

  She starts her car and, gripping the steering wheel, she realises that she has no idea where she is going to go. She hasn’t the energy for any more confrontations with Isabel but, as she pulls down the sun visor and wipes away the mascara from under her eyes she decides that she most definitely is not going to mope.

  ‘First, you have to tidy yourself up,’ she mutters to herself, and then I’ll call David. She smiles triumphantly as she pulls out of the carpark, turning the volume up on the radio.

  Chapter 36

  ‘My parents just called,’ shouts Marcos from outside as he sees Isabel through the patio doors. She is in the kitchen, pouring them some cold water from the fridge. ‘Apparently your mum is worried as you haven’t been answering your phone,’ he smiles as he shuffles the papers in front of him and files them away in his briefcase.

  ‘Oh no!’ says Isabel, offering Marcos an ice filled glass of water,
‘I expect the battery is dead. I haven’t looked at it since I got here yesterday afternoon,’ she chuckles, shaking her head. ‘They do worry!’

  Isabel takes a sip of water and suddenly a hint of panic passes across her face, ‘you didn’t tell them anything did you? I mean about last night?’

  ‘Of course not! No! I just told them to tell your parents that you are fine and that you were here with me and had accidently left your phone at your apartment.’

  ‘Phew...’ she sighs, sinking into the sofa, ‘good thinking Batman! I’ll collect my charger later.’

  ‘You can call them from here if you like?’ he offers.

  ‘Hmmmm, to be honest, I’d rather wait a while until I think of a good cover story,’ she smiles cheekily, as little dimples appear in her cheeks.

  ‘Isabel Marsh, I never saw you as the lying sort,’ he laughs as he sits back and crosses one tanned leg over the other.

  ‘Surely a little white one now and again is alright? And I am doing it so that they won’t worry.’ There is a comfortable pause as they both look at each other, happy in each other’s company. ‘Thank you so much again for last night, Marcos,’ Isabel says sincerely.

  ‘You had me worried, that’s for sure. The paramedics nearly had to revive me as well,’ he laughs, trying to brush off her gratitude.

  ‘You’re so lucky living here.’ Isabel looks out over the garden and up at the mountains, shimmering in the heat, ‘it’s going to be strange to go back to my little village in a few weeks’ time,’ she sighs. She slips off her shoes and rests her toes on the edge of the coffee table. ‘Don’t get me wrong, I love it, but after experiencing this... life outside of Cartheston, well, I can’t imagine being able to settle there.’

  She looks sad for a few moments, as she rubs her thumb over the condensation on her glass. ‘Of course I was settled for a while. I thought that I was going to marry Paul and we’d buy a big house overlooking the sea... but now that that dream is gone... I don’t know. I’m just not sure I can imagine living there as a single woman. I’d have to get a cat of course!’ she laughs, not wanting Marcos to pity her.

  ‘Do you have to go back?’ Marcos asks, ‘I mean, you could easily get work over here. Rent an apartment. Lots of Brits have done it. Málaga is full of ex-pats,’ he laughs.

  Isabel feels the first stirrings of excitement inside her, she has never been very impulsive, but maybe Marcos is right. Maybe she could move to Spain? A fresh start, gorgeous weather and she doubts that she would ever be short of visitors.

  ‘I don’t know,’ she smiles, taking a sip of water, ‘I suppose I just thought that moving abroad is something that other people do!’

  ‘Well, just think about it. You don’t have to rush into things. Take your time, do a bit of research whilst you’re here,’ he says casually. The way he makes full eye contact with her makes her believe that anything is possible.

  After collecting Isabel’s overnight-bag from her apartment, they spend a relaxed afternoon together. With a bowl of Nacho’s and guacamole on Marcos’s shady terrace, they each work on their own project, chatting easily and sharing ideas. Marcos on his laptop, Isa on a tablet she borrowed from him. ‘I’m trying to set up another school, more inland from Málaga. There is a large expat community with a high demand for Spanish classes,’ he explains excitedly.

  Isabel agrees, ‘well, if I do move to Spain, I will definitely have to take more classes to improve my Spanish!’

  ‘You wouldn’t believe the amount of foreigners out here who have lived here for more than twenty years and still don’t speak a word of the language,’ he laughs, shaking his head. ‘It’s easier here on the coast. There are English supermarkets, restaurants, even doctors and dentists if you can’t speak Spanish,’ he says, scrolling down the list of possible properties for his new venture.

  ‘Ohh, this is nice,’ says Isabel, leaning in towards her screen, ‘400 Euros a month? That’s amazing!’

  Marcos gets up from the sofa and lowers himself onto the arm of Isabel’s chair, looking over her shoulder at the little white apartment with a large balcony, overlooking the communal gardens and pool.

  ‘Where is it?’ he asks, looking impressed.

  ‘Calahonda,’ she says, looking up at him, ‘Is that far from here?’

  ‘No, not really. You could probably get to Málaga in about twenty minutes by car and there are plenty of buses,’ he smiles, looking pleased. ‘Shall I print it off for you? We could even go and see it tomorrow if you like?’

  ‘Really?’ she asks, both hands springing to her cheeks as she jiggles her legs in dizzy excitement.

  ‘I don’t have any meetings tomorrow, so maybe we can make a day of it? Try to find some more apartments in that area! Leanne isn’t coming over until the evening,’ he says, getting up from the arm of the chair and heading inside to fetch them another drink.

  Oh yes... Leanne, thinks Isabel, her stomach lurching with something that she recognises instantly as jealousy.

  Chapter 37

  Leanne lifts her linen beach bag from the boot of her car. She nearly falls over the kerb in a desperate attempt to hide herself. But... what the... She can hardly believe what she is seeing. Marcos has just pulled into a parking space literally five cars in front of her. She watches as Isabel steps gracefully from the car, turning to smile at Marcos as she looks up at the house on the corner. The lights flash as he locks the doors and joins Isabel on the pavement, lifting up his sunglasses and looking up in the direction that Isabel is pointing in. So this is where she’s hiding out! Leanne smiles smugly. She keeps low, behind the boot of her car, until they turn in the direction of the house. She remains where she is, pretending to be checking the contents of her bag, until she hears the front door slam. Quickly, she crosses the road and steps into the shade of the nearest beach bar.

  She orders herself a café con hielo and settles on the terrace overlooking the beach, feeling safe in the knowledge that Isabel is probably packing a bag and that there is little chance of them popping into the bar. She pours the small cup of dark, strong coffee over the ice in the glass tumbler, enjoying the sound it makes as the hot liquid cracks the large cylindrical cubes. As she adds a sachet of sugar and stirs, she glances back up towards the roof terrace. She feels torn. Part of her wants to go and hammer on the front door and demand to know what her fiancé is doing in Isabel’s holiday home, but she also wishes to detach herself from the situation, to enjoy the feeling of being free and single, waiting for her casual lover to arrive. She smiles to herself and sips the sweet, strong drink as she realises that David is likely to feel the same way. He has no idea that she is engaged to be married but she is sure that David is not the marrying type anyway, I am certain of that, she thinks. The arrangement suits them both.

  She turns her chair and rests her feet on the low wall in front of her, enjoying the breeze on her face. She remembers when she first met David, eighteen months ago. He had walked into the hotel reception, asking to leave a message for a guest. She had been on her break and was on her way for a coffee in the hotel’s patio. She remembers how he had winked flirtatiously at her as she passed. She was taken by surprise a few minutes later when he confidently pulled up a chair opposite her and ordered himself a small beer. Leanne had looked at him with a quizzical smile. She admired his quiet arrogance and good looks. He was wearing board shorts and a smart Quicksilver shirt, his blonde hair ruffled by the sea breeze. His dark brown eyes, intense, as he looked up at her. She had hungered for him instantly.

  He told her, without much more detail, that his name was David and that he was on business from London. He asked what time she finished her shift and, three hours later, they lay entwined together on one of the massage beds in the beauty parlour, unable to speak. He had a beautiful body. She was shocked how the raw need for him overwhelmed her, as she locked the door of the massage room and let him tear open her work uniform and take her roughly against the wall, without a second thought.

  She had fe
lt no guilt afterwards and they had never asked each other about partners, nor discussed future plans. They would meet up most weekends, and often during the week, for adventurous and mind-blowing sex together. That is the basis of our entire relationship, she often reminds herself. She has Marcos as her trophy and for financial stability, and David to satisfy her physical desires. Until now, she had simply assumed that their arrangement would continue indefinitely. She would marry Marcos and still meet up regularly with David. It wasn’t until Marcos had mentioned her giving up her job and working from home, that she had become worried. I love Marcos, she thinks, swirling the shrinking ice-cubes in her glass, but she realises that she has only really become aware of her true feelings for him since Isabel arrived on the scene. Ironic! she thinks, everything becomes clearer with jealousy.

  She hears the creaking of the wooden boards of the terrace and turns to see David approaching. He is dressed, as usual, in beachwear, his wavy hair tucked back from his face with his designer shades.

  ‘Hi babe,’ he says in a smooth voice, ‘what’s up? How come you’re not at work? Everything ok?’

  ‘Fine,’ she says lightly, ‘just fancied a day off. I’ve been working lots of hours just lately. I think I deserve it, don’t you?!’ she pouts, reaching up and snaking one arm around his neck, kissing him deeply.

  ‘Hmmmm, you taste of caffeine!’ he smiles, pulling out a chair next to her and signalling for the waiter.

  ‘So what’s the plan gorgeous?’ David asks, after ordering two more coffees. ‘Saturday wasn’t soon enough for you, eh?’ he asks teasingly, lowering his sunglasses onto the bridge of his nose and draping one arm casually over her shoulders.

  Leanne leans forward in a sultry pose, caressing his thigh, allowing one of her dress straps to fall from her shoulder. She knows how to play him perfectly. The dress slides down just enough to reveal the curve of her dark nipple through the thin fabric. Then, as the waiter delivers their drinks, she innocently slips the strap back into place.