Gray glanced at her, shaking his head. ‘No, it isn’t your fault, none of it is. It’s me, all me, and I’m sorry.’
None of what? ‘Let’s not start an argument over whose fault it is,’ she said, ‘otherwise we’ll still be here when they lock up and we’ll have to abseil off this bloody balcony.’
Gray didn’t laugh. He didn’t even crack a smile. ‘I don’t deserve you,’ he said, earnestly. ‘I’m not worthy of you, Juliet. You should be with someone who can take care of you properly, you and Rachel. Someone strong and unafraid.’
‘But you are. You’re both those things.’
‘I was once, perhaps. Not any more.’
His arms went round her, drawing her tightly against him as if he was clinging to a buoy in a rough sea. After a while he loosened his grip but she stayed close, breathing in his scent, letting herself be consoled by his solid warmth. She was vaguely aware of the glances of other visitors wandering past. How long they’d been putting on a show she had no idea but she didn’t care.
‘We’re going to be all right, aren’t we?’ She broke free and looked up at him.
‘Yes, of course we are. I just need to sort myself out a bit, that’s all.’
He smiled, letting the tension drain from his face. Juliet breathed again. The smile was reassuring, the reference to the sorting out less so, but at least she felt they were on an upward trajectory now.
‘Well, if there’s anything I can do to help, anything to make things better, you will tell me, won’t you?’
‘Of course.’
Gray’s reply came swiftly, almost before she’d finished speaking. His face might have flushed slightly, too, but it was sweltering on this terrace.
‘Well, as long as you’re sure.’
‘Actually, since you ask, there is something,’ he said, after a moment. ‘I’d like you to tell Andrea to go.’
The silence in the car on the journey back to the villa could not be described as stony but neither was it companionable. Gray needed all his concentration for driving as the traffic had increased three-fold since the morning and Juliet looked at the steely set of his chin and wondered what she could say to lighten the atmosphere, then decided it was best to say nothing.
Back at the Alhambra, Gray had at least had the decency to look slightly abashed when she’d reacted to his request - no, his demand, for that was what it sounded like - with wide-eyed disbelief. Andrea was her oldest and dearest friend, she’d told him, and she had no intention of telling her to go and if Gray didn’t like it he could do the other thing. ‘Over my dead body’ had come into it somewhere, she seemed to remember, along with ‘It’s my house and I shall let who I damn well like live in it.’ She’d winced at that, even as the words flew out of her mouth, but flown they had, before she’d had the wit to retract them.
The unsavoury little scene had drawn sideways looks from passing tourists who, a few minutes earlier, might have seen them being all lovey-dovey. Well, stuff them, and stuff Gray as well.
His response to her outburst had been a silent one. He had just looked at her with an expression that clearly said: ‘Well, you did ask’.
When she’d calmed down a bit she’d said: ‘I can’t ask Andrea to leave. She hasn’t got anywhere else to go.’
By silent, mutual consent, they had left the terrace and taken the stairs leading out of the building.
‘That isn’t our problem, Juliet,’ Gray had told her as they walked through the gardens. ‘Andrea has other friends. She’ll find somewhere, even if she has to go back to Yorkshire. She has to pick up her life at some point. Since she’s been with us it’s like she’s on permanent holiday. It can’t be good for her.’
‘I thought you liked Andrea,’ Juliet had said, thinking that the heroic efforts Andrea was making in picking up her life were not quite what Gray had in mind.
‘Of course I like her, she’s very nice ...’
‘Nice? Is that all you can say?’
‘Juliet, keep your voice down.’ Gray nodded towards people walking past. ‘It’s not that I’m not fond of her – she’s your best friend, after all – but I just think that right now we’d be better on our own. Us and Rachel.’
Juliet had taken several deep breaths at that point and then she’d tried to explain why she couldn’t – no, wouldn’t, let Andrea down just when her friend most needed her.
‘Andrea had an awful childhood. She and her mum moved so many times she never had a chance to put down roots and make friends because as soon as she got settled in one place they were off again. Once the electricity was cut off because Andrea’s mum couldn’t pay the bill and Andrea wore the same clothes for a fortnight because they couldn’t be washed – can you imagine how horrible that must have been? Andrea was forced to become the adult. She made sure there was enough money put aside for food and rent and saw that the bills got paid. She had the chance to go and live with relatives – in Ireland, I think - but she wouldn’t go because her mum needed her, and it wasn’t her mum’s fault the way she was. It was her own background that made her like it – a chain reaction, one tragic existence being passed on down the line to the next generation. Andrea broke the mould, made something of her life. I admire her and I care about her. She’s been a good friend to me, and now she’s been let down by that rat Declan I can’t let her down as well, can I?’
Gray had sighed. ‘Even so, whatever’s happened to Andrea isn’t your fault and in any case she doesn’t seem particularly distressed to me. In fact she looks positively radiant – except perhaps first thing in the morning.’
‘She hides her feelings, puts on a front. It’s how she deals with life.’
Juliet had crossed her fingers behind her back at that point, since she wasn’t at all sure Andrea was nursing a broken heart either but she wasn’t about to admit as much. She just knew she had to win this one. Charlton had tried to control her and she was damned if she was going to let Gray do the same. Besides, what she’d said about Andrea was all true and if her friend wasn’t yet ready to move on to the next stage in her life then so be it.
Gray seemed content to let the subject drop after that and Juliet, while her stomach still churned with the injustice of it all, had let it drop too which, considering they had reached stalemate, seemed the only option.
She spent the plane journey home clinging to the hope that the house, its contents and the cat had made it through Andrea’s watch unscathed – she could do without giving Gray more ammunition with which to further his cause.
11
They’d been home over a week now and Gray seemed hell bent on racking up as many brownie points as possible by being cheerful, uncomplaining and taking an interest in others besides himself. Even when Rachel rebuffed with hormonal sharpness his offer to give her and Sarah some tennis coaching during the school holiday, he took his cue from Juliet and let it go with a shrug and a smile. Juliet was responding to this new persona with equal warmth whilst secretly wondering how long he could keep it up. His continued silence on the matter of Andrea, however, seemed to indicate not that the subject was closed but that some action on her part was called for.
Juliet closed the book she’d been reading and looked at Andrea who was dozing in a chair in the corner of the patio, the leaves of a huge potted palm trellising her face with finger-like shadows.
She could simply do nothing, let sleeping dogs, or rather, friends, lie, and hope the problem would go away of its own accord. Gray had a flipping cheek, telling her to eject Andrea, effectively making her homeless and denying Juliet the pleasure of Andrea’s company, Rachel too, come to that, since the two of them got on like a house on fire. It wasn’t as if Andrea was in the way or that she came between Gray and Juliet – they weren’t doe-eyed honeymooners, were they? If Gray was jealous of Andrea, then he had no right to be and he would just have to grow up and get over it.
Realistically, though, Gray bringing up the subject again must be only a matter of time, and then what? She could say
, truthfully, that Andrea had become involved with someone so going back to Harrogate was not on the cards but Gray would probably counter that by asking why she and this someone couldn’t move in together, or why couldn’t Andrea rent a flat in Brighton, and, perish the thought, get a job in order to pay for it, until such times as her divorce settlement came through? Juliet hadn’t come up with a satisfactory answer to that one because the same thought had begun to drift across her own mind – not the moving in with her lover, obviously, but the flat renting idea.
If Andrea’s frenzied flights from the house and her continued erratic behaviour were anything to go by, the flames of illicit love burned as brightly as ever. Surely it must be difficult for the two of them to find places to be alone? Presumably, his wife was in residence in the family home and Andrea could hardly bring him back here – even she wouldn’t go that far.
Perhaps a little surreptitious questioning in that direction would be in order. If Andrea had any vague plans for the immediate future, talking might help her to crystallize them. She did so want Andrea to be happy, but not at the expense of Gray’s well-being, or hers. Since the holiday, ignoring the wobble at the end, life was pretty much as sweet as it could be. She felt loved and secure and much more in control of her own life - she wasn’t about to throw that away in a hurry.
Rock music boomed out from above. For once, Rachel was in, and so were Sarah, River and Debbie who’d arrived an hour ago and swarmed upstairs to Rachel’s room. Sarah and River, Juliet had noted gloomily, were wearing miniscule hot-pants and she could have sworn she spotted a tattoo in the small of Debbie’s back just above the waistband - if you could call it that - of her skinny jeans.
‘Thirteen isn’t what it used to be, Ju,’ Andrea had said, seeing Juliet’s face. It hadn’t helped.
Just as she was wondering how she could broach the subject of Andrea’s living arrangements, via the circuitous route of the logistics of her sex life, Andrea opened her eyes and yawned widely.
‘Tea?’ Juliet said.
‘Mm, yes please.’
‘Off you go then.’ Juliet nodded in the direction of the back door.
Andrea levered herself clumsily out of the chair and tottered off to the kitchen. It wasn’t surprising she kept falling asleep, Juliet thought, as she heard water whooshing into the kettle. It must have been after one o’clock last night, or rather, this morning, when she’d heard the key in the lock. This was standard now, particularly on play rehearsal nights, although Andrea had said that her lover wasn’t a member of the drama group so presumably she nipped off to meet him afterwards.
It suddenly occurred to her that they’d had none of those mystery phone calls since they’d got back from Spain – not that she any longer associated those with Andrea’s undercover operations but it was a relief that they seemed to have stopped.
‘I was having a lovely dream.’ Andrea handed Juliet her tea and sat down. ‘I was in a hammock with Colin Firth. I’d still be in it now if your daughter and her cronies hadn’t woken me up with their godawful music… What are you looking at me like that for?’
Juliet shuffled her chair forward to face Andrea’s. ‘I’ve got a question. Call me nosey if you like ...’
‘Which I probably will. What do you want to know?’
‘I was just wondering where the two of you, you know, get it on.’
‘Ah.’ Andrea tapped the side of her nose. ‘Not here, if you were worried. Wouldn’t do that. No way.’
‘No, I know you wouldn’t, but isn’t it a bit awkward if his wife’s still around, which I take it she is?’
Andrea snorted. ‘Yes, afraid so, and she definitely looks the type to crawl around the floor looking for strange coloured hairs.’
‘You’ve met her?’ Juliet was amazed.
Andrea dunked a biscuit in her tea, avoiding Juliet’s eye. ‘Not met her, not exactly. I’ve seen her around, you know?’
Juliet didn’t know but neither did she want to press the point - they’d already wandered off her agenda.
‘So, where do you go then? Under the pier? Oh lord, don’t tell me you do it in your car - I’ve been sitting in that!’ Juliet screwed up her face in pretend disgust.
‘Well that just shows the kind of company you’ve been mixing with, young lady!’ Andrea’s take-off of Juliet’s mother was, as usual, spot on. ‘No, we go to a hotel, well mostly anyway. It’s along the front in Kemptown and it’s absolutely the last word in kitsch decadence – sunken baths, gold taps, tiger-skin rugs, mirrors on the ceiling ...’
‘Yes, all right, I get the picture. Is that really how you want it to be, checking in for a few hours then having to check out again? Isn’t it a bit, well, degrading?’
Andrea laughed. ‘No, why on earth should it be? And yes I do like our arrangement because it means we’re equal, if you know what I mean. We arrive together, we leave together, and I don’t get left all alone with my nose pressed to the window of some seedy bed-sit.’
This was not going well, not at all.
‘But it must cost a fortune! It would almost be cheaper to rent somewhere decent, wouldn’t it? Then he could come and go as and as he pleased. So to speak.’
There, she’d said it – well, as good as. She watched, appalled, as Andrea’s face changed.
‘Ju, do you want me to move out? I know you said I can stay as long as I like but that’s because you’re so sweet and we’ve been friends since they built the Ark’ – Juliet’s heart sank at this point - Andrea certainly knew how to press the right buttons – ‘but if I have outstayed my welcome please tell me because I promise you I won’t be upset.’
‘No, of course you haven’t outstayed your welcome. It’s fab having you here, like having a sister.’ Juliet back-pedalled frantically, silently cursing Gray for landing her in this predicament. ‘But I am concerned for you. There’s your future to think about, what you’re going to do once you’re properly divorced and everything.’
‘Bugger the future!’ Andrea waved her arm dismissively. ‘I don’t even want to think about it. Oh, I suppose I’ll do something useful with my life eventually but for now I’m just going with the flow. Live for the moment, I say!’
She made another expansive gesture, almost knocking Juliet’s mug of tea out of her hand.
‘Oops! Sorry.’
‘You will be.’
She’d made a proper pig’s ear of that, hadn’t she? Gray would be less than impressed. Oh well, if he asked her if she’d said anything, she would just have to tell him the right moment had not presented itself yet. He couldn’t argue with that, could he?
The back door flew open and four embryonic teenagers, all hair and legs, crowded on to the patio.
‘We’re off now, Mum, OK?’ Rachel hopped from one foot to the other.
‘Where to exactly?’ Juliet looked up, shading her eyes with her hand.
‘Not sure yet.’ Rachel shrugged. ‘The beach, probably, for a bit, then back to Sarah’s.’ She looked at Sarah, who nodded in silent assent.
‘All right, but don’t be too late and phone me if you change your plans or you need a lift home.’
‘Oh yes, mother. I can phone you on my mobile phone, you know, the one I haven’t got?’
The others giggled.
‘I’m sure you’ll manage. Have you got sunscreen on? The sun’s still quite strong at this time of the day.’
‘Yes, buckets of it. Can we go now?’
‘You forgot the bit about not talking to strange men,’ Andrea said, as the front door banged. ‘Mind you, fat lot of good that did us.’
‘I’m not sure what time I’ll be home tonight. These things have a tendency to overrun,’ Gray said on Monday morning.
Juliet rolled over, squinted at the clock and groaned. Quarter to nine. How had that happened? She’d planned an early start this morning. Long, leisurely breakfasts were lovely but they played merry hell with her work ethic. It was all very well for Andrea, who had nothing better to do in the mornin
gs other than drink coffee and consume a quarter of a loaf and half a packet of prime back rashers but others had serious deadlines to meet and bread to win as a result. And bacon, come to that.
‘Where is it you’re going?’ Juliet raised herself up on one elbow. There was no point in rushing now. She’d just remembered why she’d slept through the alarm. She’d been woken in the dead of night by a persistent rattling coming from downstairs. Reluctant investigation had revealed Sid, head down, ears flattened, batting frantically at the cat flap in a vain attempt to leave the premises because a certain person not a million miles from here had taken to locking the flap at night, presumably to keep out burglars less than six inches tall. After that, she’d lain awake for ages before she’d been able to drop off again.
‘South Bank University,’ Gray muttered into the depths of the wardrobe. ‘I don’t have to be there till half eleven.’
Juliet yawned and sat up a bit more. ‘What time train are you getting?’
Gray glanced at the clock. ‘Nine twenty-five, with any luck.’
‘You’ll have to get a shift on then. Do you want me to make you some toast?’
‘What? Damn!’ Gray held up a piece of broken shoe lace. He had been yanking on the thing rather fiercely - in fact he seemed to be in a bit of a lather altogether.
‘Toast.’
‘No, no, I’ll get something on the train.’ Gray shoved his feet into a different pair of shoes. ‘But thanks for the offer,’ he added, casting Juliet an unsmiling glance.
‘You all right, Gray?’
‘Yes, I’m fine. Why don’t you go back to sleep? My cab will be here in a minute.’
‘Better not.’ Juliet flung back the duvet. ‘Have a good day.’
Gray grunted, straightened his tie, then picked up his briefcase almost as if it was an afterthought.
The lunchtime news was running late, Juliet thought, as she dropped on to the sofa and flicked on the TV. It was gone half past one – normally the weather forecast would be on now but instead a reporter was standing in a street, talking earnestly into a fluffy mike. She bit into a spring roll left over from last night’s Chinese and turned up the volume.
Falling to Earth Page 12
