Summer Madness

by Susan Lewis

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ she said. ‘It’s a lovely night and I’m quite happy to sit here and look at the garden.’

  He nodded, then cupping a hand around his jaw he said, ‘How about you leave the keys here for someone else to drive your friends and I’ll take you home?’ he said.

  Louisa’s heart skipped a beat. ‘Oh, but you don’t have to do that,’ she protested.

  ‘I know I don’t have to,’ he said, a latent irony filling his eyes as he looked at her.

  He was holding his hand out for the keys and still looking at him Louisa dropped them into his palm. Then she smiled. He had such a warmth about him, such a softness in his dark eyes that she could feel it stealing into her senses like the heady perfume of the night.

  ‘Where are you staying?’ he said.

  ‘Valanjou. Are you sure it isn’t out of your way?’

  His eyebrows flickered. ‘It’s not out of my way,’ he said and she knew he was lying.

  She watched him go back into the house then turned to walk to his car. She was aware of the turmoil going on inside her, but it felt distant, muted, like her sense of reality. How could she be feeling this way about someone she didn’t even know? Why did she get the feeling that when he looked at her he knew all she was thinking, all she was feeling because he was thinking and feeling it too? She wanted to laugh. It was crazy, irrational, wonderful and terrifying. She wanted him to come back, to smile at her like that again and tell her what was happening between them. She wanted to hear him say the words that she didn’t have the courage for. She wanted the reality of his touch, his voice, his presence, his incredible strength.

  Hearing the front door close she turned back to see him coming towards her and almost blushed at her thoughts.

  ‘Good guess,’ he said, seeing her standing beside his car.

  ‘I saw you arrive,’ she told him, getting in as he opened the door for her.

  ‘Do you want that I put the roof up?’ he said, getting in the other side. ‘It’ll be colder once we start heading inland.’

  ‘No, it’s fine. I like it this way.’

  Neither of them spoke then until he had turned the car around and they were gliding smoothly along the Cap towards Antibes.

  ‘So, you going to tell me your name?’ he said, glancing at her.

  Louisa gave a cry of surprised laughter. ‘Of course. Louisa Kramer,’ she said. ‘And you’re Jake Mallory.’

  It was his turn to look surprised.

  ‘Consuela introduced you earlier.’ she reminded him.

  He nodded. ‘Sure,’ he said and reached out to turn on the CD. As a sleepy, soulful voice came from the speakers Louisa turned to look out at the passing cafés and glowing neon signs.

  ‘Have you been on the Riviera long?’ he asked.

  ‘Just over three weeks. We’re here for the entire summer though.’ She started to question why she’d told him that, then stopped. She’d only tie herself in knots if she went that route.

  ‘Are you vacationing or working?’ he said, lighting a cigarette.

  ‘A bit of both. What about you?’

  ‘I guess you could say I’m working,’ he answered, inhaling deeply, holding the smoke, then exhaling.

  ‘What do you do?’ she asked.

  ‘We build marinas. We’re thinking about starting up a project somewhere in the Med, that’s why I’m here.’

  ‘We?’

  ‘My father’s the boss. He’s back in the States right now.’

  ‘Where are you from in the States?’

  ‘California. Near San Diego. Do you know it?’

  She shook her head. ‘I’ve never been to America.’

  ‘You from England?’

  ‘Somerset originally, I live in London now. Do you know London?’

  ‘Sure. I know it well.’ He cast a quick glance back over his shoulder then manoeuvred the car across a complicated junction, heading out of Antibes towards Grasse. Smoke from his cigarette wafted towards her and she knew from the pungent, sweet smell that it was marijuana.

  She leaned back against the headrest and stretched out her legs. The temperature was starting to drop now, as he’d said it would, but she was enjoying the rush of wind through her hair and the humorous lilt of his voice as he went on to tell her more about his plans for a marina. After a while he fell silent, and as the music changed Louisa said, ‘Can I ask you a question?’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘Do I remind you of someone you know?’

  He shot her a quick look, his head still resting on one hand while the other rested lightly on the steering wheel. ‘I don’t think so,’ he answered. ‘Why do you ask?’

  Louisa shrugged, feeling foolish for a moment and wishing she hadn’t got into this. ‘It was just that when you first saw me and again just now when we were in front of the house, well, I got the impression that you thought you knew me.’

  She turned to look at him and saw that he was smiling.

  ‘What?’ she laughed.

  He shook his head. ‘No, I don’t know you, Louisa Kramer,’ he said.

  ‘Oh.’ She was blushing and got the feeling from the way he looked over at her that he knew it.

  ‘So how did you come by Consuela?’ he asked, changing the subject as smoothly as the car changed gear.

  Louisa explained about Danny’s jazz musician friend.

  ‘I see,’ he nodded. ‘And Consuela’s hospitality? Was it to your liking?’

  He was laughing and, pursing her lips, Louisa turned to look out at the passing, night-blackened forests. ‘Do I have to answer that?’ she said.

  ‘Not if you don’t want to.’

  ‘I don’t,’ she said and turned to look at him, her luminous brown eyes brimming with laughter. ‘How do you know Consuela?’ she asked.

  His face seemed to darken as he said, ‘Now that’s a long story. One we’ll save for another time.’

  Louisa’s heart gave such a skip of joy at the ‘another time’ that she almost laughed. How could she be so hopelessly infatuated after such a ridiculously short time and what had got into her that she could be so cheerfully abandoning her promises not to get involved again? But he was different. She just knew it, she could sense it in every word he said, every gesture he made. There was a chemistry between them that was stronger and much more potent than she’d ever believed possible, and even if she were able she knew she wasn’t going to try to resist it.

  ‘You going to start directing me now?’ he said as they turned onto the road to Valanjou.

  ‘It’s just before you get to the village,’ she said. ‘I’ll tell you where to turn when we’re there. Where are you staying?’ A sudden gulf of embarrassment opened up inside her. Dear God, that sounded like a proposition!

  ‘St Tropez,’ he answered, his eyes on the road ahead.

  So he really had come out of his way to bring her home, she was thinking as they sped past the turning to the villa.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said as he turned the car around.

  ‘No matter,’ he said. ‘Where now?’

  As she directed him up the hill and in through the open gates she was acutely aware of the bewildering change in his mood. He seemed to be withdrawing from her, wanting only to be rid of her now.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said as he came to a stop in the full beam of the security lights.

  ‘You’re welcome,’ he said, turning to look at her.

  ‘Would you like to come in for coffee?’ she offered.

  He turned to look at the house then shook his head. ‘No,’ he said.

  The pang of disappointment was so crushing that she felt sure he must hear it in her voice as she said, ‘OK, well thank you again for the lift.’

  He waited until she closed the door behind her then backed the car up to turn around.

  ‘Do you like to sail?’ he said, as she moved towards the house.

  She turned back. ‘I don’t know, I’ve never tried.’

  ‘Would you like to try?’
/>
  She nodded. ‘Why not?’

  ‘I’ll call you.’

  It wasn’t until the tail lights disappeared at the end of the drive that she realized she hadn’t given him her number. But no matter, she told herself as she opened the front door, he could always get it from Consuela.

  6

  IT WAS AROUND eleven the following morning when Sarah, hidden behind dark glasses and wearing a short, cotton T-shirt finally managed to stagger her way down the stairs and out into the blinding sunlight. She was stiff all over and every move was making her head throb and spin. The pool looked desperately inviting, but she was afraid to brave it in case she drowned. Louisa was just climbing out, looking unspeakably gorgeous in her black one-piece and disgustingly bright eyed.

  ‘Sit yourself down,’ Louisa laughed, picking up a towel and dabbing her face. ‘I’ll get the coffee and aspirin.’

  Sarah flopped gratefully into a garden chair, stuck out her feet, let her hands drop to her sides and groaned loudly. ‘Where’s Danny?’ she said.

  ‘She hasn’t surfaced yet,’ Louisa grinned as she went past into the kitchen. ‘What time did you two get home?’ she called out.

  ‘God knows, but I do seem to recall a sunrise blazing its way into my eyeballs. How did you get home?’

  When Louisa didn’t answer Sarah put her head back in the vain hope that the throbbing would subside. The sun was burning her legs, but she didn’t have the energy to move. Somewhere, not too far away, a family of cicadas were screaming their heads off, grating every suffering cell of her brain.

  ‘Here, this should make you feel human again,’ Louisa said, putting down a tray of coffee, orange juice and Panadol.

  ‘Decapitation is the only thing that’s going to make me feel better.’ Sarah grimaced, leaning towards the table and almost toppling into a pot of geraniums. ‘Who the fuck put that there?’ she grumbled, pulling her hand out of the damp earth.

  ‘It’s always there,’ Louisa laughed, throwing her one of the pool towels.

  ‘You’re getting on my nerves,’ Sarah said, eyeing Louisa irritably. ‘How come you’re not suffering like the rest of us? Oh, for God’s sake, shoot those fucking cicadas someone, please!’

  As Louisa’s grin widened Sarah’s lips gave a reluctant twitch of humour, then downing two Panadol with the orange juice she picked up the coffee and poured.

  Louisa was sitting the other side of the table, her long, tanned legs hooked over the arm of the chair, her dark hair, shining and wet, finger combed back from her face. As she dropped her head back to gaze up at the sky she looked so natural and so lovely that even through the stupor of her hangover Sarah wished she had a camera to hand.

  ‘Can you believe last night?’ she murmured after a while. ‘I mean, did it really happen or was I just dreaming it?’

  ‘It happened,’ Louisa assured her cheerfully.

  Sarah dropped her head in her hands. ‘You mean I’ve broken my three years of celibacy with an adolescent Rambo?’ she groaned.

  ‘I don’t know, did you?’

  Sarah nodded and lifted her head. Her memory was treacherously lucid considering how hard she’d tried to drown it. ‘The games rich women play,’ she commented, not at all sure she was glad she’d taken part. ‘It’s quite a set-up she’s got there, isn’t it?’

  Louisa nodded and Sarah waited, expecting her to say more.

  ‘Well,’ she prompted. ‘What did you do? And how the hell did you get home?’

  Smiling, Louisa turned to look at her. ‘Jake Mallory brought me,’ she said.

  Sarah’s eyebrows shot up in a way she wished they hadn’t. ‘Jake Mallory!’ she said. ‘But how on earth did that come about? Don’t tell me he was in the bathhouse too.’

  Louisa laughed. ‘He found me on the front doorstep waiting for you and offered me a lift.’

  ‘Well, I never,’ Sarah remarked, trying to work her way through the cobwebs to find out what she really thought. ‘Did he come in?’ she said.

  ‘No.’ Putting her feet back on the floor Louisa folded her arms on the table and looked at Sarah. ‘If I tell you something do you promise not to laugh?’ she said.

  ‘Right now I’m incapable.’

  ‘This is going to sound crazy,’ Louisa said, slanting her eyes towards the garden, ‘but I think I’ve fallen for him.’ Her eyes came back to Sarah. ‘I mean really fallen for him.’

  Sarah was nonplussed. There were lots of things she wanted to say, but she couldn’t seem to form a coherent sentence right now. ‘What happened?’ she asked, taking a fortifying sip of coffee.

  ‘Nothing really.’ Louisa leaned back in the chair. ‘I mean, I can’t explain … We talked, but nothing physical happened, at least not in the conventional sense of the word. But, well, it’s hard to say it without sounding mawkish and corny.’

  ‘It’s OK, my stomach’s settling down a bit now,’ Sarah said helpfully.

  Louisa’s tawny eyes were dancing in a self-mocking, self-conscious way. ‘Has this ever happened to you?’ she said, ‘Where you meet a man and somehow, right from the start, you just know he’s right? That he’s the one who’s meant for you?’

  Sarah pursed her lips as she thought about that. ‘No,’ she said in the end, ‘at least not as quickly as that. But that doesn’t mean I don’t believe it can happen. The French call it a coup de foudre, so if there’s an expression for it then I guess it exists.’ Her head was still so fragile that she was afraid she wasn’t saying the right thing, but Louisa’s expression told her she probably was. ‘Do you think he felt the same way?’ she ventured.

  ‘I’m not sure,’ Louisa answered. ‘I mean, I might just be kidding myself, but it all felt so incredibly … Now you are going to laugh so I’m not going to say it. But the answer’s yes, I think he might have felt it too.’

  ‘Are you seeing him again?’

  ‘He’s taking me sailing.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘He said he’d call. He’ll have to get the number from Consuela though because I forgot to give it to him.’

  ‘Did he say how he knew Consuela?’

  ‘Just that it was a long story.’

  ‘Mmm.’ Sarah wished she could get to grips with what she was really feeling about this because for some reason she didn’t think it was good. She stared at Louisa thoughtfully then said. ‘Look, I don’t want to be the one to burst your bubble, but it hasn’t been long since Simon and everything and well, you don’t really know anything about this Jake … Well, what I’m really trying to say is, are you sure this isn’t some kind of rebound reaction?’

  ‘Positive,’ Louisa smiled, obviously not in the least put out by Sarah’s caution. ‘This is different, Sarah. Totally different. I only wish I knew how to explain it better, but it’s a feeling I have and I’m excited and terrified and completely and utterly …’ she laughed. ‘I feel head over heels in love. Or at least as near to it as you can get without actually being in it.’

  Sarah laughed. ‘I wish he could see you now,’ she said, ‘there’d be no question about whether or not he had fallen for you when you look so lovely. And if that’s what he’s doing to you, well, who am I to question it? Oh, look out, here comes Sleeping Beauty. God, Danny, you look worse than I feel.’

  ‘Anyone seen my sunglasses?’ Danny croaked.

  ‘They’re in the kitchen, I’ll fetch them,’ Louisa said, getting up.

  ‘What time is it?’ Danny asked, flopping down in her bikini next to Sarah.

  ‘Time you and I gave up drinking.’

  ‘How did we get home?’

  ‘Frederico drove us in your car.’

  ‘Oh yes. Did we really open another bottle when we got back?’

  Sarah looked at her horrified. ‘We didn’t?’ she said.

  ‘You did,’ Louisa confirmed, handing Danny her sunglasses, ‘but you didn’t drink much of it.’

  ‘I wish I could say the same for the champagne,’ Danny groaned. ‘It always gives me such a split
ting headache. Louisa, I love you,’ she added, as Louisa put an orange juice in front of her. ‘That’s better,’ she sighed when she’d finished it. ‘So, what a night, eh? What happened to you?’ she said, looking at Louisa. ‘What time did … Oh God,’ she groaned as a blinding pain shot through her head. ‘Two nights in a row is too much. I must be getting old.’

  ‘Ah, yes, you still haven’t told us where you were on Friday night,’ Sarah reminded her.

  Danny turned to Louisa. It was several seconds before she answered and with her eyes shielded by her sunglasses it was impossible to tell what she was thinking. Then, to both Louisa and Sarah’s surprise, she said, ‘Did you see the way that man, Jake Mallory, looked at you last night?’

  Louisa started to smile. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I saw it.’

  ‘You’d have had to be blind not to,’ Danny commented, her dark eyebrows teasingly arched.

  Sarah was about to speak when Danny said, ‘That’s where I was on Friday night. With him.’

  Despite her tan Sarah saw Louisa’s face pale. ‘You were with Jake Mallory?’ Louisa said, pushing her voice through the horrible chaos unfolding inside her.

  Danny nodded. ‘His yacht is moored at St Tropez, that’s where I spent the night – at least most of it.’

  ‘How did you meet him?’ Louisa asked quietly, understanding now the look that had passed between Danny and Jake the night before.

  ‘I met up with his crew at the Café des Arts, they invited me back to the boat and when I got there I met Jake Mallory.’

  ‘Did you sleep with him?’ Sarah said, not knowing why in the world she’d asked such a stupid question, especially when she almost felt Louisa flinch.

  Danny smiled. ‘Yes, I slept with him,’ she said, then leaning towards Louisa she took her hand and squeezed it. ‘I’m only telling you in case you thought … Well, I don’t know what you thought when he looked at you that way, but it’s better that you know now what he’s like, that he turns that look on for all the women and from what I can tell …’ She shrugged. ‘Look, maybe I’m making too much of this, for all I know it didn’t mean anything to you.’