White Sand, Blue Sea

by Anita Hughes

  But ever since they’d returned to the villa, she had an ache in the pit of her stomach. She’d expected to sit up with Sebastian, sipping cognac and talking about scuba diving and snorkeling. Instead he’d kissed her on the cheek and hurried upstairs to his bedroom.

  And he never mentioned Anguilla; she almost thought she’d imagined the extra plane ticket. Maybe he was afraid Olivia would turn him down. But why did he buy it in the first place?

  Suddenly she remembered her mother returning from the dance floor and gasped. Hadley’s cheeks had been flushed and her hair tousled and her lipstick smeared. Could something have happened between them? Had they rekindled old feelings?

  Hadley was still beautiful with her blond hair and high cheekbones. Sebastian could have realized what he had been missing and begged Hadley to take him back.

  Olivia’s eyes were wide and she realized she’d got it all wrong. Sebastian never intended to take her to Anguilla. The extra ticket was for Hadley. Sebastian had asked Hadley to run away with him while they were dancing. And she said yes!

  But how could Hadley do such a thing? She’d be giving up Felix and the gallery and the villa in St. Barts. Olivia remembered Sebastian saying he thought Hadley seemed skittish and unsettled. Maybe Hadley had been unhappy. And Sebastian could be so compelling with his descriptions of South Pacific islands and mountains in Tibet.

  It was all her fault. If Sebastian hadn’t come to St. Barts to celebrate her birthday none of this would have happened. Olivia’s knees buckled and she sat on the floral bedspread.

  Felix was the best stepfather; she loved him so much and couldn’t bear to see him hurt. And it would never work out between Hadley and Sebastian. They had been so in love and Sebastian still walked out.

  She crossed the hall and opened Hadley and Felix’s bedroom door. Felix was asleep but Hadley’s side of the bed was empty. The silk pillow was smooth and her purse was missing.

  Olivia closed the door and hurried down the hallway. She opened Sebastian’s door and peered inside. The cotton sheets were rumpled and his suitcase and straw hat were gone.

  She raced down the staircase and checked the driveway. The cars were there but that didn’t mean anything. They could have taken a taxi to the airport. She had to reach Hadley before she boarded the plane, and convince her she was making a terrible mistake.

  She grabbed the keys from the side table and hesitated. She could ask Finn to come with her. But Finn and Felix were terribly close and Finn would feel obligated to tell Felix what happened. If she went by herself, Hadley would be home before Felix was awake.

  For a moment she thought of everything her mother had done for her: listened to her recite her lines when she was Little Red Riding Hood in the school play, picked her up from the cinema after a horrible date. What if Hadley had longed for Sebastian to return and Olivia was ruining her dreams?

  But she had watched Hadley and Felix host gorgeous dinner parties and curl up in the den with the Sunday New York Times. Every relationship had dry spells, but she was certain they loved each other.

  She slid into the driver’s seat and backed out of the driveway. An egg truck honked and she wished she were lying in bed, dreaming of Esther’s strawberry pancakes. But the plane left in less than an hour and she couldn’t be late. She put the car in drive and pressed on the accelerator.

  * * *

  A light fog settled over St. Jean airport and she pulled into the parking lot. She remembered when she arrived in St. Barts and had been looking forward to swimming at Shell Beach and sipping lime daiquiris at Pink Parrot. Now she was trying to save Hadley and Felix’s marriage.

  She entered the terminal and crossed the linoleum floor. A ticket taker stared at a flickering computer screen and clutched a Styrofoam cup.

  “I wonder if you can help me,” Olivia began. “I need to know if two passengers are booked on the flight to Anguilla.”

  “The flight is in the final boarding stages.” The woman looked up. “All the passengers are on the plane.”

  “It’s very important. Could you see if Hadley London has a reservation?” Olivia pleaded. “It might be under the name Sebastian Miller.”

  “I’m sorry,” the woman shook her head, “I’m not allowed to give out that information.”

  “You don’t understand. If my mother leaves on that plane her whole life might be ruined.” Olivia’s eyes watered. “Couldn’t you possibly make an exception?”

  “If I gave out the names of every wife who decided to take a day trip with her private chef or husband who was running away with the nanny, I’d be fired.” The woman clicked on her screen. “I’m afraid I can’t help you.”

  “There must be something I can do,” Olivia insisted.

  “The only way you’re going to find out who’s on that flight is to buy a ticket.” The woman glanced at her watch. “You better do it quickly. It leaves in fifteen minutes.”

  Olivia gazed out the window at the planes lining the runway. There were sleek private jets and tiny propeller planes painted in bright colors. Could she really confront Hadley and Sebastian in public? And what would Finn say if she disappeared to Anguilla without telling him?

  But she couldn’t let her mother do something she would regret. She would send Finn a text saying she went to Anguilla with Sebastian. There was nothing to worry about and she would explain everything.

  “One ticket, please.” She opened her purse and took out her charge card.

  The woman handed her the red and blue boarding pass and smiled. “You are all set for your trip. Have a wonderful time in Anguilla.”

  Olivia slipped her credit card back in her purse and opened the gray metal door. The warm breeze touched her cheeks and St. Barts had never looked more beautiful. The ocean was a shimmering turquoise and the green hills were filled with tropical plants and lush flowers.

  She slipped on her sunglasses and took a deep breath. The morning sun made patterns on the runway and she ran to the plane.

  Chapter Eighteen

  THE LIGHT STREAMED THROUGH THE gauze curtains and Hadley shifted on the sofa. She reached for her phone but the screen was dark. She pressed the button and realized the battery was dead.

  She remembered everything about the night before—Sebastian’s kiss on the dance floor and Phyllis’s late-night phone call—and shivered. Then she looked up and saw the sun glinting on The Miller Girls and the air left her lungs. Sebastian hadn’t taken the painting!

  The clock above the marble fireplace chimed and she jumped up. How could she have slept until 10:00 a.m.? Felix must have gone to the club without his usual dark coffee and fruit salad.

  She smoothed her hair and hurried up the circular staircase. Sebastian’s door was open and she peered inside. A towel was flung over a chair and his leather bag was missing.

  She walked downstairs and felt like Grace Kelly in To Catch a Thief. She wanted to leap over the waves in a speedboat or roar down the hill in a convertible. Sebastian was gone and she could finally enjoy her vacation.

  There was a platter of whole wheat toast and cut fruit on the kitchen counter. She didn’t have to worry about Felix missing breakfast; he was perfectly capable of feeding himself. He even left a pot of coffee and a pitcher filled with whole cream.

  She ate a slice of papaya and saw Finn’s phone on the table. She never read private texts but she noticed Sebastian’s name and suddenly had an uneasy feeling. She picked up the phone and read out loud:

  “‘I had to go to Anguilla with Sebastian. There’s nothing to worry about and I’ll explain everything. Love, Olivia.’”

  The phone dropped on the wood floor and she started. What was Olivia doing in Anguilla and why hadn’t she said anything to Hadley?

  “Oh, that would be incredibly low,” she gasped. “Sebastian wouldn’t dare.”

  She tried to put the pieces together, like the jigsaw puzzles she’d done with Olivia as a child. Perhaps Sebastian told Olivia he’d wanted to spend more time together but couldn
’t put off his commission. He begged her to accompany him to Anguilla and she agreed. But Anguilla was a fifteen-minute flight from St. Barts. If Olivia planned on going for the day she would have mentioned it.

  Sebastian must be up to something. He still believed Olivia and Finn were too young to get married and was trying to separate them. He was going to tell Olivia he’d decided not to go to the ashram and they should spend the summer traveling. Finn would be furious and break off the engagement.

  It was too underhanded even for Sebastian. And what did it have to do with The Miller Girls? But nothing else made sense. Olivia was young and impressionable and loved her father. And Sebastian was like an Indian snake charmer: he could make anyone do what he wanted with a few carefully chosen words.

  If she called Sebastian and demanded that he put Olivia on a plane, he could say he tried but failed. She would have to talk to him in person.

  “It’s not going to work this time, Sebastian Miller,” she said out loud. She entered the library and took The Miller Girls off the wall. Then she walked out to the driveway, climbed into her yellow Fiat, and put the car in reverse.

  * * *

  Hadley walked up the gravel path and rang the doorbell. The house had floor-to-ceiling windows and twelve-foot double front doors and a pond filled with calla lilies. There was a bronze statue and a circular driveway lined with brightly colored sports cars.

  A man in a white uniform answered the door. “Can I help you?”

  “I’m looking for Sebastian Miller.” Hadley smoothed her skirt. “He’s a guest of James Oliver.”

  “Please follow me. Mr. Miller is staying in the pool house.”

  Hadley walked through rooms with ash-blond floors and low white furniture and glass coffee tables. Abstract paintings hung in silver frames and huge vases were filled with purple orchids. A white grand piano stood by the window and the view was all pink hibiscus and white sand beach and sparkling ocean.

  “The guesthouse is on the other side of the pool.” The man pointed to a rectangular pool flanked by chaise longues.

  Hadley walked to the guesthouse and knocked on the door and tried to stop her heart from racing. She knocked again and opened the door. The pool house had a gold and white marble floor and blue linen sofas. There was a teak dining room table and a telescope next to the window.

  “My god! This day is getting stranger every minute.” Sebastian appeared wearing a patterned shirt and linen shorts. “Who’s going to show up at my door next? Jasper Johns or Angelina Jolie? What are you doing in Anguilla?”

  “I’m sure you know exactly why I’m here,” Hadley snapped. “I came to see Olivia.”

  “Well, that didn’t take long,” Sebastian said and smiled. “We only arrived a few hours ago. Apparently she didn’t sleep well last night and she’s taking a nap. Sit down; you must be frazzled from your flight. Fifteen minutes on those tiny planes can be an eternity. I was certain the pilot was going to miss the runway and land in the ocean.

  “James has his own personal chef and there’s a platter of shrimp kebobs and aubergine on the terrace,” he continued. “Can you believe this place? Two acres of oceanfront property and a collection of European motorcars. Anguilla is a favored tax haven and James has done exceptionally well in organic supermarkets.”

  “I didn’t come for brunch,” Hadley seethed. “I’m here to collect my daughter.”

  “You have to let me explain.” Sebastian walked to the bar and poured two glasses of bourbon. “But first we need a stiff drink. I couldn’t live in the Caribbean full-time. All the humidity makes me thirsty.”

  “You’re not going to twist your words like the warm pretzels they sell in Central Park. I’m going to tell you exactly what you’ve done and you’re going to listen,” Hadley said. “Last night I got a call from one of my best clients. She heard a rumor that The Miller Girls was going on the market and was going to fetch three-quarters of a million dollars. I realized you weren’t in St. Barts to celebrate Olivia’s birthday. You came because you ran out of money and the only way you could keep yourself in scotch and cigarettes was to sell the painting. I locked the door and slept in the library. This morning you were gone and I finally relaxed. But then I discovered Finn’s cell phone and Olivia left a message saying she went to Anguilla.

  “I tried to put the pieces together. Why did you take Olivia to Anguilla and what did it have to do with selling the painting? It’s quite simple. You’re getting older and you’re afraid of not having anyone to listen to your stories. What better audience than your own daughter?

  “Somehow you convinced Olivia to come to Anguilla and then you were going to beg her to travel with you this summer. You were worried she would say no so you were going to use the proceeds of the painting to fund a spectacular adventure: palaces in India and castles in Scotland. You’d take her to the finest restaurants and buy fabulous jewelry. It would be the summer every girl dreamed of.

  “The best part was Finn would be furious and break off the engagement. You never liked Finn and you think Olivia is too young to get married. You would have everything you wanted and Olivia’s heart would be broken.”

  Sebastian let out a low whistle and refilled his glass. “Are you quite finished? You should have been a trial attorney. You’re more convincing than Gregory Peck in To Kill a Mockingbird.” He paused and his green eyes flickered. “But you’re wrong.”

  The sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows and the ocean looked so inviting. Hadley longed to slip off her dress and run into the waves. She turned to Sebastian and took a deep breath. “I don’t believe you.”

  “Of course I came to St. Barts for Olivia’s birthday. I used to gather the invitations like a squirrel collecting nuts. But something always got in the way: a new commission or the exorbitant price of plane tickets. The few times I could have come, I was terrified of living up to her expectations. A young girl’s imagination can turn an absent father into some dashing war hero and I was nothing but an itinerant artist.

  “Then I received the invitation and I was already on my way to Anguilla. I couldn’t skip St. Barts when it was a fifteen-minute plane trip. And seeing Olivia was worth the bottles of TUMS I swallowed to knock on the door. God! She was beautiful with her blond hair and long legs.

  “You can’t imagine how wonderful it was to spend time together: scuba diving and snorkeling and sipping piña coladas. She’s smart and inquisitive and I could listen to her for hours.

  “But I’m not the monster you think I am. I want Olivia to be happy. Of course I think she’s too young to get married and I’m not convinced Finn is the right guy. But does any father think differently?”

  “Why should I listen to a word you’re saying?” Hadley interjected. “If you loved Olivia you wouldn’t have brought her to Anguilla.”

  “I haven’t finished. Olivia isn’t the only reason I came to St. Barts.” He looked up. “I came to see you.”

  “Me?” Hadley repeated.

  “I walked out all those years ago because if I was unable to paint, I couldn’t breathe. What I didn’t realize was that without you, breathing seemed irrelevant. Every day the pain of missing you grew greater, like a lump that becomes an inoperable tumor. But then I saw the article in Town & Country about your and Felix’s wedding. How could I compete with a Central Park duplex and your own gallery and villa in St. Barts. And look at everything Olivia had: the finest schools and dance lessons and year-round passes to the Guggenheim.

  “I wasn’t being altruistic by staying away. If I had a chance I would have taken it. But I kept tabs and you looked so happy: attending charity galas and the ballet.

  “Then I arrived in St. Barts and you were more beautiful than I remembered. I still would have left you alone, I had no desire to become a marriage wrecker. But then I learned you slept on the sofa and spent more time cleaning than a Portuguese maid.” He sipped his drink.

  “I fell in love with you all over again. I wanted to buy up every boutique o
n the island: pretty dresses and silk robes and handbags as soft as butter. And flowers! Every time I passed a bed of roses, I wanted to make them into a bouquet. But I was your husband’s houseguest. I could hardly woo his wife over Esther’s deviled eggs.

  “Then last night on the dance floor, I held you in my arms and we were back on the farm in Johannesburg. You were so familiar but brand-new. I wanted to kiss you forever.

  “I know you felt it too; your whole body was on fire. But you were afraid and I couldn’t blame you. What was to stop me from hurting you again?

  “But this morning a vision appeared on my doorstep. Don’t you see that we’ve been given another chance? Olivia is all grown up. And Felix would only notice you were gone when he ran out of cocktail olives.” He ran his hands through his hair.

  “A buddy wants to sell his art gallery in Crete. We can sell The Miller Girls and buy it. Don’t you remember the month we spent in the Greek Islands? Waking up every morning to a sky the color of topaz and buildings so white, we were blinded.”

  He placed his glass on the teak sideboard and walked to the sofa. He pulled her up and kissed her. Hadley kissed him back and inhaled citrus aftershave. A warmth spread through her chest and she longed to wrap her arms around him. It had been so long since she felt warm lips and muscular shoulders.

  “I left the risotto simmering on the stove.” Sebastian gasped and pulled away. “James won’t forgive me if I burn the house down.”

  Sebastian disappeared into the kitchen and Hadley walked to the window. Her knees were wobbly and her eyes burned and she felt like she’d come down with a sudden flu.

  The garden was filled with pink hibiscus and she remembered the guesthouse in Cape Town. The rain didn’t stop for weeks and she and Sebastian played checkers and ate boerewors and malva pudding. They were like two kittens with a warm bowl of milk.

  It was so long ago; did she really feel that way again? Or was she intoxicated by the idea of someone wanting her so badly he couldn’t eat or sleep?