I could have gushed for days about the incredible architecture, or how the landscaping evoked tropical island resort but with a Greek Island twist. Or about my villa, which wasthemost luxurious accommodation I’d ever stayed in (which said a lot). Every minute detail had been carefully selected to strike a balance between opulence and tranquillity, from the soft furnishings to the bath products and beyond.
But I knew my audience of one and Claude was asking about Julian, not the resort.
‘Julian has been a perfect gentleman,’ I replied, to which she scoffed with a gentle grunt. Ignoring her, I continued. ‘And it’s beautiful here, Claude. We should come back for a proper holiday, just us two.’
It was a futile suggestion and we both knew it. Convincing Claude to travel overseas was about as likely as me touring with Taylor Swift as a backup dancer.
‘Perhaps,’ Claude replied noncommittally. ‘So, have you read Maya’s plan?’
She meant the marketing plan. Maya had teamed up with Julian’s PR rep – for every request from Aetheria, Divorced Diva got a reciprocal opportunity.
‘I read it on the plane.’
‘Good, I thought you might,’ she replied. ‘And look out for a package. It’s supposed to be in your room.’
I cast a glance about the suite, spying a cardboard box on the coffee table. Next to it was an even larger gift basket, no doubt showcasing luxury goods that Aetheria would become known for.
But it was the box that mattered most. Inside was a carefully curated selection from our boutique-brand partners – businesses founded by divorced women and men we’d supported as they launched their dreams.
‘Al?’ she asked when I didn’t answer.
‘All good – it’s here,’ I replied, keeping my tone neutral.
The truth is, I loathe it when she calls meAl. The shortened version of her name, which is Claudia if you didn’t guess, is strong, classical.Claude. ButAlsounds like a pissed-off seagull fighting over sandy chips at the beach. Especially the way she says it.
‘We have to make the most of this,’ she continued, undaunted. ‘Otherwise, with you away for nearly a week, we’re at a loss and?—’
‘Claude,’ I interjected. ‘I promise I won’t letanyopportunities slip through my fingers, all right?’ I wandered back into the bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed.
‘All right,’ she replied with a resigned sigh.
Hang on… My forthright, sometimes nag of a sister was bowing out of a robust conversation without having the last word? Something was amiss.
‘Claude, what’s going on? What aren’t you telling me?’
She didn’t answer right away, but when she did, her voice was tight and small. ‘I saw Gregory today. At Tesco.’
Gregory – AKA The Twat – AKA my sister’s ex-husband.
And unlikemythree exes, Gregory isnota decent bloke who just wasn’t right for her. He was a total and utter twat from the moment she met him. He cheated, he lied, he treated her like shit, and eventually, he gambled away their life savings.
I disliked him from the start, spotting his wily ways immediately. Whereas Claude persisted in that shitty, shitty (bang, bang) marriage for eight years. Eight years!
‘Oh, no! Claude, that’s rubbish! I’m so sorry. And what the bloody hell is he doing at Tesco? I thought you got Tesco and he got Sainsbury’s?’
It was an odd aspect of their division of property, but when you move into a tiny flat around the corner from your marital home, a necessity.
‘I know!’ she wailed, following up with a sniffle. ‘That’s what I said when I saw him, but he made up some excuse about Sainsbury’s being out of buns.’
‘Oh, for fuck’s sake,’ I murmured, mostly to myself.
It wasn’t the first time I’d wanted to throttle my former brother-in-law. It also wasn’t the first time I’d wished Claude would let me cover her share of the marital debt thathe’dracked up without her knowledge. I’d had to settle for paying her a generous salary. Of course, she deserves every penny of what she earns.
With the sound of her increasingly louder sniffles, an idea popped into my head.
‘Claude, what if you came to Aetheria? Now, I mean. The official opening is still more than a week away, so there’s plenty of room. You could relax, have some spa treatments… I’m going on a sailboat tomorrow – we’re sailing around the entire island. And youloveto sail. What do you say?’
Having proposed the near-impossible – Claude not only shies away from travelling, she’s rarely impulsive – I waited patiently, willing her to sayyes.
