Lawrie shook his head. “You won’t know him. Enjoy your holiday, Jamie. I’ll chat to your mum. Maybe see if she’ll come away for a long weekend once she’s had her party.”
“Okay.” I didn’t know what else to say.
“This fucking party.” He shook his head. “Only Livi would enjoy organising it.” He put his mug down next to the sink and rinsed his hands.
Lawrie rinsed and washed his hands constantly. I’d seen the skin on them red and raw sometimes through all the cleansing and never moisturising, as if he enjoyed the discomfort of the cracked skin.
“You know she loves a good party.”
“She does.” He checked his watch. “Shit. I need to make a call.” He walked out of the kitchen, his phone already to his ear, hands still wet.
I didn’t stayin the finca.
I could’ve done a morning of yoga. Once the session started, Clara would’ve been focused on her downward dog instead of dropping hints about Robert, and I’d have been able to find the calm that seemed to have ran off somewhere since yesterday afternoon.
Lara messaged me to say she was grabbing breakfast in Santa Gertrudis. Carl had gone to work, or headed off somewhere, and whatever had happened last night between them, Lala wanted to talk about it. It was an out. Somewhere to go away from the finca and Livi’s yoga retreat, somewhere away from the quiet that was creating noise in my head that would not subside.
I needed a distraction, although I wasn’t sure what from.
And that was a lie.
Tommy had thrown me. He was tall, broad, more man than any of the boys I’d ever dated, even more so that the man in Copenhagen, the one I hadn’t told Lara about.
He was the opposite to Gunnar. Dark, where Gunnar was fair; muscular where Gunnar was lean; clipped where Gunnar was polished.
Single, where Gunnar was married.
I hadn’t reacted like this to Gunnar. He hadn’t made my skin prick and my heart crave something that I wasn’t entirely sure was good for me.
Tommy was the blade of a knife. You could touch it, but you knew you were going to hurt.
I messaged Lala back to tell her to meet me at the café in the square, the place where we could spend all day with books and iced coffees. It was opposite Còctels, which I couldn’t help but focus on as I drove the little Fiat down the dusty roads inland towards the village.
Lala was already at a table, a battered copy of a murder mystery in her hands and a pot of coffee in front. She glowed, and didn’t look upset or frantic, which was what I expected. The morning sun was already beating down, lending her a spotlight that turned her golden.
She looked up as I got closer, sensing I was nearby, and she grinned just like she had as a six-year-old, only now she had both front teeth.
“How’s Livi’s yoga posse?”
“Clara Reynolds must’ve turned up last night.”
Lala tipped her head back and laughed. “Oh no, poor Jameson. How many times has she mentioned Robert yet?”
“A couple in ten minutes. Is there any gossip on him? Surely he must’ve been linked to someone?” I settled down opposite her, Còctels in my line of sight. I’d persuaded myself that it was just so I could wave over when I saw Tommy, or maybe apologise for Monty interrupting us yesterday, although I wasn’t sure exactly what he’d interrupted.
“Robert Augustus Reynolds has never been linked to anyone. He’s working at Jones Caffney as an underwriter, although Clara likes to say he’s an associate partner, and he lives with Clara still. I heard a rumour that he services more of her needs than just making her the occasional meal and taking out the bins.” She sipped her coffee with a smirk. “Don’t think about that too much.”
“Lara!” I shook my head, catching sight of Tommy putting out a sign outsideCòctels. “Don’t. I have no idea why she thinks I’d be right for her son. I mean, I’m not…”
“Desperate? Unattractive? Without means? James, she wants an heiress, and you tick all her social climbing boxes. Just humour her. It’ll be funny.” Lara gestured to the waiter.
I ordered, trying not to stare too much at Tommy as he shifted the outside tables, cleaning them down. He looked in a mood and tense, and I wanted to go over there and ask him what the matter was, only I had no right to.
“Jay Jay, you weren’t listening?”
“Sorry, what?”
Lara shook her head. “Carl wants us to be exclusive. As in, not seeing anyone else.”
