by Jules Wake
‘Earth to Carrie.’ He handed her helmet over. ‘Do you want to stop somewhere for a drink?’
‘No, I ought to get back. I’ve abandoned Angela and Jade for long enough.’ They’d been at home all day on their own.
Maybe she was being ungracious; he had given her a lovely day.
‘Why don’t you come in for dinner?’ They’d appreciate the company and no doubt Angela would love another opportunity to show off her cooking skills.
‘I’d love to, but can we take a rain check?’
Carrie burst out laughing.
‘What’s the matter?’ Richard looked around as if he expected an audience to jump out and yell ‘surprise’.
‘No one says ‘rain check’ in real life.’
‘Don’t they?’
Guilt pricked her at the confused, boyish look on his face.
‘They might do in film scripts,’ and then she realised that she was being unkind, ‘and in America’.
‘What I meant was I’d like that, a lot, but I’ve got to be on set for eight tonight. Some of us have to work.’
‘Yes, you have, throwing yourself out of windows. I’ll pack the Arnica next time I see you.’
Carrie realised, as the words spilled out of her mouth, how much she was looking forward to seeing him again.
‘I’m working tomorrow, although my schedule’s flexible, but I’ll text you.’ His mouth quirked upwards in a lopsided grin. ‘You can always kiss my bruises better … like you used to.’
With that he switched on the engine and revved up the scooter, leaving her blushing brighter than a tomato with sunstroke.
CHAPTER TWENTY
She had to stop this. She pushed the phone firmly away across the dressing table-come-desk. Another glorious day and not a cloud in sight. She was not going to check her phone again until at least ten o’clock. No, make it eleven o’clock. No, twelve o’clock. With a nod of resolve, she tilted the screen of her laptop towards her and then paused. Damn it. She pulled open the drawer and slid the phone into it and slammed it shut. There, temptation banished.
Quickly, Carrie reread the last scene she’d written and smiled. Over the last couple of days, for the first time since they’d arrived in the villa, she’d written and written and written. It was more that she couldn’t not write.
For the last few mornings, she’d woken with the words almost bursting out, like wind-filled sails billowing, ready to take a boat skimming at full speed across the waves. Ideas for the play that she’d been working on for months suddenly coalesced and she knew exactly how to finish it. The characters of another idea she’d been toying with had also decided to make an unscheduled arrival in her head, along with huge chunks of perfect dialogue.
Just as well, because she’d heard diddly squat from Richard. Complete radio silence. Which was absolutely fine by her.
She yanked open the drawer and glared at her phone before grabbing it and stomping downstairs. She poured herself a coffee, put the phone on top of the breadbin and stomped back to her room, closing the door behind her.
Angela and Jade were out by the pool. Both of them had got used to her holing herself up in her room and left her to it. A natural holiday rhythm had asserted itself. Whenever Carrie came to a natural stop, she re-emerged for a swim in the pool, playing ball or racing lengths with Jade and taking time to taste Angela’s latest creations from the kitchen. She had no problem going back to work, knuckling down and finding her way back into the story.
At quarter to twelve, she closed the lid of her laptop with a decisive snap and jumped up, stretching aching shoulders, and wandered through the house out onto the terrace. Jade sprawled on a lilo, in the pool, drifting along with her eyes closed. Maybe it was the delirium of finishing the play she’d wrestled with for so long or high spirits, but some imp of devilment took hold. Stripping off the kaftan she wore over her bikini, she ran the full length of the terrace and, with a terrifying war cry, launched herself into the pool, dive- bombing the waterbed and breaking the surface of the water with an almighty splash.
The wash upturned the lilo, spilling Jade straight over the side. She emerged, spluttering and furious, and immediately began splashing Carrie with angry screeching.
‘You, you.’
Carrie splashed her back, grinning like a loon.
Then Jade ducked under the water and yanked her legs from under her. Carrie emerged, spluttering and laughing, much to Jade’s delight, and the two of them splashed each other even more wholeheartedly, until Carrie grabbed Jade and kissed her on the forehead.
‘You’re bonkers, Auntie Caz.’
‘I know but I finished my script.’
‘What, the one you’ve been working on forever?’
‘Yep.’ Carrie thrashed about in the water in a victory shimmy that had more in common with a wallowing hippo, but she didn’t care.
‘Thank God for that. Mum! She’s finished it,’ Jade yelled. ‘Does that mean you’ll stop being a grumpy cow now?’
‘I wasn’t grumpy,’ protested Carrie. She waved to her sister.
‘Do you girls want some lunch?’ called Angela.
Carrie gave her the thumbs-up.
‘You haven’t been much fun. Mum said not to bother you. I’ve been dead bored. Can we go out again?’
‘Yes. Sorry. Where would you like to go?’
Jade screwed up her face. ‘Anywhere, I don’t mind. Do you know if Richard’s going to have that party?’
‘I’ve no idea. I’ve not heard from him.’ She hoped she sounded blasé and nonchalant.
Her phone had stayed resolutely silent for the last three days. Not a text, an email or a call. How many ways were there to not get in touch?
‘Seriously?’ Jade climbed out of the water and flopped forward onto a sunbed, spreading out like a starfish to dry off. ‘Bet he doesn’t invite us in the end. I knew it was too good to be true.’
As they lay, the water slowly evaporating from their skins, Carrie resolved that she would get Richard to come to dinner next time after the next date. Her niece was a good kid. She deserved to have some fun in life.
Although, in the meantime there was still time to torture the pesky child. With the water pistol she’d pinched from the stash of toys in the storage shed by the pool a few days ago, she lifted her head, took aim and fired a jet of water straight down Jade’s back, stuffing it straight out of sight as Jade squealed and turned her head.
‘What was that?’
‘What was what?’ said Carrie, not lifting her head from where it was propped on her arms.
‘Water.’ She shot her aunt a suspicious glare and dropped back down again.
Carrie waited for a few minutes and then fired again, ducking her head back down as she began to giggle at Jade’s second scream of outrage.
‘That was you.’
‘Not me.’ Carrie pretended innocence, but Jade wasn’t having it any of it this time and came straight over and started tugging at the towel on the sunbed and the blue plastic water pistol popped out.
‘Aha!’ Jade grabbed it with a triumphant giggle and began squirting her aunt in the face. ‘Got you.’
Carrie jumped up laughing, lunging at her niece to try and retrieve the gun, getting a face full of water for her efforts.
‘Give the gun to your aunt,’ she spoke in a low voice, holding out her hand in the best cop-show posturing. ‘You know you want to.’
‘No way José.’ Jade jumped and ran, Carrie chasing after her around the pool. She closed in on her niece, who stopped to squirt her again.
‘Pants. Out of ammo,’ said Jade when a pathetic dribble trickled out. She ran to the poolside to refill the gun but Carrie had had a much better idea. She darted into the storage shed. ‘Come to mama,’ she muttered, scooping her prize from the shelf. There was a tap and a drain in there, which the hosepipe for the gardeners could be hooked up to. Perfect.
Jade was still trying to fill the puny water pistol when Carrie took up her pose on the
edge of the pool.
‘Make my day, punk,’ she shouted across the water. Jade’s head shot up. ‘Meet Big Bertha,’ crowed Carrie as she opened fire with an orange plastic Super Soaker gun, sending a satisfying torrent of water in a perfect arc and drenching Jade, who squealed again before bursting into fits of giggles, clutching her knees.
Jade wasted no time retrieving a second gun, which she named The Terminator and the two of them chased each other around the poolside, screeching with laughter and good-natured insults until they spotted Angela watching them, hands on hips, with a decidedly superior expression.
‘Shall we get her?’ asked Carrie, winking at Jade.
Jade grinned and the two of them advanced on Angela, guns pointed, with a steady pace.
She held up her hands. ‘You wouldn’t shoot a defenceless woman, would you?’
Carrie and Jade looked at each other, weighing it up.
‘And don’t forget, I’m the woman who’s making you lunch.’
The two of them stopped dead.
‘Oooh, what do you think?’ asked Carrie, pretending to frown and give the proposition great thought.
‘Hmm, lunch?’ Jade cocked her head.
They caught each other’s eyes and, with a simultaneous nod, they opened fire and drenched poor Angela.
‘I’m going to be huge when we go home,’ said Carrie picking up a slice of French bread and smearing it with tapenade.
‘Get away with you,’ laughed Angela, who had forgiven the pair of them but had sworn vengeance, which was rather alarming as she would normally be far stealthier and sneakier about it.
‘You never put weight on and with all the swimming, you’re looking very trim. Alan won’t recognise you if he comes out here. Oh, by the way, your phone’s in the kitchen, it’s been beeping.’
Alan. With a horrible jolt, Carrie realised she hadn’t given him a thought for the last couple of days. She’d been so involved in her play. You thought about Richard plenty of times, whispered an insidious voice in her head. But, she argued back, because he would have an opinion on her writing, he knew about that sort of thing. Alan’s an English teacher, the annoying whisper pointed out.
She helped herself to another slice of French bread. It was a real shame she couldn’t rip her own head off and throw it across the room, or terrace, in this case. It sucked not being in charge of your own thoughts.
Rather proud of herself, she didn’t pick up her phone until one twenty-five. It was a text message from Alan. Communication from him had been sporadic due to patchy reception in the mountains. He wasn’t sure how much longer they’d be in the Alps but had realised that the Côte d’Azur wasn’t that far away in the grand scheme of things. And as there was plenty of room at the inn and it sounded rather palatial, with a pool as well, he thought, if they managed the last few climbs in good time, he might call in and stay a few days. It was weather-dependent; he’d keep her posted.
Refusing to give her response any complicated, soul- searching thought, she fired off a quick reply, telling him he was always welcome and settled back with her book to read in the sunshine for an hour.
The book didn’t hold her attention and she couldn’t blame the continual interruptions from Jade.
‘It’s too hot to read.’
‘Why don’t you listen to a book on your phone?’
‘Boring, and you have to concentrate.’
Carrie sat up. ‘Why don’t you look up that YouTube video and do me a fishbone plait?’
Hopefully that would entertain her for an hour or two. She’d had enough of watching the disconsolate teenager droop about.
‘Fishtail, you numpty!’
‘Whatever.’
‘Brill.’ Jade jumped up and disappeared back into the house, while Carrie resigned herself to having her hair tugged and pulled. At least it would keep Jade occupied.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Bloody man. Thoughtless. Selfish. Self-absorbed. Carrie hurled her phone to the end of the bed. What if she had plans for today? It would serve him right if she made him wait until she was ready. She’d give him eleven bloody o’clock. And she’d have all her guards in place today. The secluded beach stunt had thrown her and, somehow, he’d wormed his way into her thoughts far too often.
This was a two-week gig while he was at a loose end, she mustn’t be lulled into taking him seriously. It had taken him four whole days to get in touch again.
His brief text, sent at eight o’clock, read, Pick you up at eleven. Lunch & other adventures. Richard’s idea of an adventure could mean anything.
Playing safe, she co-opted Jade’s new-found hairdressing skills and loaded her bag up with a cardigan, a shawl, a bottle of water, a book, spare make-up and perfume. Was there anything else she might need? He hadn’t specified trousers today, hopefully that meant he’d forsaken two wheels in favour of Phil’s services. She risked putting on a floaty skirt and halter-neck top with low-heeled sandals.
At eleven o’clock exactly Richard pulled up, confounding her completely by turning up in a magnificent scarlet monster with a throaty roar that rumbled through her sternum.
‘OMG,’ she muttered to herself. The little Ferrari was absolutely gorgeous. As soon as she saw it, she skipped down the steps to stroke the glossy paintwork.
‘Nice car,’ she commented with a laugh. ‘A scooter one day, Ferrari the next.’
Through the back window she could see the engine, which took up two-thirds of the car.
‘Just keeping you on your toes.’ He opened the door and, like the perfect gentleman, waited for her to get in before closing it and walking round to the driver’s door.
Which film had he’d borrowed that smooth move from? With a light-hearted giggle, she slid into the low-slung seat and strapped herself in. The small, enclosed space had more in common with the cockpit of a plane rather than a car, apart from the little black stallion on the yellow badge on the steering wheel. She put on her sunglasses, stroking the soft leather seats. She could get used to this.
Jade appeared on the doorstep.
‘Hi, I’ve got something for you.’ He leaned over Carrie and opened the glove box, pulling out three large white envelopes.
Jade barrelled over to the passenger door.
‘Cool car.’ Her excited smiled faded as she took in the fact it was a two-seater.
‘One for you,’ he handed one to Carrie, ‘One for you and one for your mum.’
Like a kid at Christmas, Jade tore into her envelope and screamed in delight as she pulled out the stiff card invitation. She went running back into house, calling to Angela.
‘Mum, mum, you’ll never guess what!’
‘Nice save, mate,’ teased Carrie. ‘I thought she was going to demand you take her for a spin later. Quick, let’s make our getaway unless you want to be deafened by teenage squealing for the next half hour. I take it that was an invitation?’
‘Yep, I’m throwing a party for the cast and crew to coincide with Savannah’s birthday. And what’s with the plait again?’
She folded her arms. ‘It’s practical and it stops you yanking it free all the time.’
‘The practical plait. I don’t like it. Too tidy. You should wear it down more.’
‘It gets too tangled up. After a whole day out, it’s impossible to get a comb through it again.’
‘Then I’d have to condition it for you and comb all the tangles out.’
Her heart hitched as she studied his face. With a quick grin, he dispelled the charged moment by waggling his eyebrows with a suggestive leer, which made her burst out laughing.
Light-hearted and silly Richard she could cope with.
He fired up the ignition, revved the car with a mighty roar and then swung it around the drive in one manoeuvre and gunned the engine up the track to the gates, the instant speed almost plastering Carrie to her seat.
‘Show off,’ she yelled, as they catapulted to a stop at the sensor, where the gates opened, in contrast, with ponderous
slowness. ‘Is it yours?’
‘No, I hired it. I did have one in Los Angeles but it was a faff having to garage it and I never got to drive her because I was away most of the time and when I was home, the traffic was awful.’
She dreaded to think how much it cost to hire this little motor but it wasn’t her problem. All she had to do was sit back and enjoy the ride, which she had every intention of doing.
‘How the hell do you go about hiring a Ferrari?’ she wondered out loud.
‘I have a PA. Or rather a virtual PA. Arla. She’s a marvel. Books Ferraris, organises parties, has invitations printed and delivered.’
‘Virtual PA. Does she exist or is it a robot or computer programme? You do lead a very different life.’
‘Arla’s most definitely a real person. You wouldn’t mess with her. She does everything online for me. Hence virtual. I’ve met her about three times. And I don’t lead another life, I ask her to do the things that I’m usually too busy to do. She has amazing contacts. If I ask her to find me a Ferrari, she does her best. If she can’t, she can’t.’ He grinned, ‘but most of the time she pulls it out of the bag. She is pretty amazing.’
‘I can imagine,’ said Carrie dryly, picturing some soignée iced blonde who wore size-zero clothes.
‘Bet you can’t,’ he cast her a knowing look as if he could see right into her head. ‘She’s a single parent from Brooklyn, with three children, thirteen, fifteen and eighteen, and she’s a good size twenty. I like her because she’s not afraid to take the piss out of me. No respect. When I asked her to book me the Ferrari today, she immediately asked me who I was trying to impress. She keeps me grounded.’
‘I like her already. Does she know you’ve got a wife tucked away?’
‘Yup.’
He kept his eyes on the road. What on earth had the virtual PA said to that? From the way he’d described her, she could imagine Arla would have had plenty to say.
Pulling out of the driveway, Richard zipped through the gears and soon they were whizzing along the country roads, screaming into the bends, from which they emerged to be greeted by yet another fabulous view.
