It was seven-thirty in the morning, and two compact red wheelie cases stood by Villa Anna’s open front door, a straw sunhat balanced on the handle of one. Rick and Dolly, both dressed in shorts, T-shirts, and open-toed sandals, stood on the doorstep, staring down the driveway.
‘I can’t think what’s happened to it,’ said Dolly, picking up her hat and spinning it slowly round in her hands. ‘You did hit accept, didn’t you Rick?’ she said, a note of concern in her voice.
‘I did,’ Rick replied, shooting his wife the sort of look Mark gave Emily if she asked him to check he’d packed his passport. ‘I’m sure it’s on its way.’
Emily thought of the beds she needed to strip and wash, the greasy trays lined up beside the saucepans, the plates waiting to be rinsed and stacked in the dishwasher. She should be walking the dogs now; Miguel was collecting her in half an hour to visit a new client in Loulé. Emily loved working with Miguel. It wasn’t just distancing herself from housework. Leaving the Villa eachmorning was liberating. Being dressed in real clothes, not Lycra, knowing there was a purpose to her journey, that if she was late, she wouldn’t just be inconveniencing a tennis partner, she might be upsetting a fee-paying client, all boosted her mood. Was this what Mark missed? Was this feeling of self-worth what he hankered after, holed up in that little study?
Standing next to her guests wasn’t speeding up their driver, but Emily didn’t want to leave them, as if somehow sharing their angst would help.
‘You’ve plenty of time, we really are only twenty minutes from the airport,’ she said, using a foot to nudge a dog away from the luggage.
Dolly huffed. ‘Rick, check the app. See where the wretched car is.’
Three faces peered down at Rick’s screen.
‘Um, he’s still up in the hills,’ said Emily. She watched her guests’ driver crawl closer on the screen, then the toy car image stuttered, turned, and slid in the opposite direction. Emily raised her eyes to meet Rick’s.
He blew out a long sigh. ‘This doesn’t look good.’
‘Shall I try calling you a chauffeur instead? It will be more expensive,’ she warned.
She trotted into the kitchen. She could hear the tinkling sound of the washing machine filling with water. Mark was standing by the sink, his torso jiggling as he scrubbed at something submerged beneath a cloud of washing up foam.
‘What’s up?’ he asked, dumping the frying pan onto the draining board with a thump.
‘Transport drama. I’m calling Rodrigo to see if he’s free.’
Mark grunted and picked up the grill pan.
Rodrigo was on his way to Seville but offered to ring around and find someone else. ‘No, thanks anyway, but I don’t think our guests’ nerves can wait that long,’ replied Emily.
Mark shook foam from his hands and flicked a glob playfully at her. ‘It’s not your problem, darling. Just take the dogs out before Miguel gets here.’
‘I can’t just abandon them,’ she said with an anguished look on her face.
Dolly appeared in the doorway, chewing a fingernail. ‘Any luck?’ she asked brightly.
Emily shook her head. ‘Sorry.’
Dolly’s face crumpled. ‘We’re going to miss our flight.’
‘No, you’re not,’ said Mark. ‘Let’s get your cases in the car, and I’ll drive you there myself.’
He dried his hands on a tea towel. Emily handed him the car keys, and with a glowing sense of pride, watched him hand Dolly her straw hat, pick up her case, and stride out to the Fiat 500.
Twenty-five
October 27th
Ellis bank balance: (£36,137.07) Overdrawn.
90-Day Rule Tally: Emily: 36 Mark: 28
The plane landed at Southend airport, less than half an hour from his mother’s house. But Mark wasn’t going to Chalkwell.
He caught a taxi and watched the rain gushing down the windscreen, forcing the windshield wipers to whoosh back and forth frantically to clear the deluge before another torrent obliterated the view. The field to his right was lush green. Mark hadn’t seen rain or a patch of green ground outside the irrigated condominium homes for six months.
His mind was vacillating between his mother and his latest nightmare. Pedro reported that, in Portugal, dwellings had to be at least five metres from every boundary, and Mark was sure David had told him that Tommy was proposing to build on the Ellis fence line. But it was difficult to dwell on legal challenges this morning.
