Livi had once described it as her commune, her tribe of waifs and strays that found each other to party with. The ten bedrooms had been extended on with a small finca that housed four couples, perfect for a bit of privacy, although no one usually wanted that here.
“Welcome home.”
I looked up to the balcony above the double front door and saw Livi, dressed in a white cover up, holding a glass of what I knew would be non-alcoholic fizz. Her dark hair was down and longer than I remembered it and she wore a yellow flower tucked behind her ear.
“Good to be back.” It truly was. Chilled house music filtered through outside, and I caught the scent of lavender.
“I asked Gerald to prepare an afternoon tea for us.” Livi leaned over the balcony. “It’s just us this afternoon. Just the three of us.”
Lara was already out of the car, designer bag in hand, hair wild now. “Where’s Marcus?”
I stiffened at the sound of his name.
“Staying with friends in Majorca for a week.” Livi shook her head. “I thought you knew?”
Lara shrugged. “I try not to pay him too much attention. Jay Jay, let’s go get you changed into something more appropriate.” She eyed me as if she’d only just realised I wasn’t immediately ready to dive into a pool.
“Bossy much?” I opened the boot and grabbed one of my bags, leaving the rest there. Livi had staff, staff who’d worked for her for years. She paid them well, which kept them loyal, and Lara and I had been brought up to treat them respectfully. I’d no aversion to taking in my own luggage, but I’d earn myself an eyeful of disparaging looks from Manny later, because I wasn’t letting him do his job.
“Just assertive.” Lara didn’t smile. “It’s a shame Marcus can’t stay with his friends in Majorca for the whole summer.” She didn’t elaborate any further and I was glad I didn’t need to make the effort to change the subject away from him.
Marcus was, in theory our step-brother, Lawrie’s son.
Livi wanted us all to be one huge, weird family sometimes, Marcus included.
Which was a shame, because he was the only person I’d ever wished was dead.
Chapter Two
Jameson
“Who are we expecting this summer?” I looked at Livi, seeing the same eyes I saw every time I looked in a mirror. She hadn’t aged since I’d last seen her; my mother had discovered the secret of eternal youth – a stress-free life with no worries and almost completely clean living.
Livi gazed out to the ocean as if it was going to give her the answer. We’d eaten a light afternoon tea, one with few carbs because the lord knew we didn’t want to be bloated in our bikinis for the afternoon. Salad, mozzarella, smoked salmon, figs and olives, served with an Ibizan white wine and chilled water.
Lala had grown restless and disappeared to one of the markets on the island to seek inspiration for her new collection, or that was what she told Livi. I suspected she was fucking the same local man she had been for years. Carl, who we’d met as teenagers had taken her virginity one late June evening when she’d been fifteen and he was eighteen. Every year, she’d gone back for more. Every year, she competed with the waves of pretty clubbers for his attention, sulking when she saw him with someone else, riding a high after she’d ridden him.
Our parents didn’t know much, not that they would’ve cared, but Lala liked him as her dirty little secret just as much as she liked how he fucked.
“I have a few friends coming for a yoga retreat in two weeks. I managed to persuade Sarah Lapsia to lead it, which was quite a feat. Alfie and Daisy will be here at some point, and we’re planning to have that masked party – the one I wanted to do last year but you couldn’t be here.” Her smile was sweet. “I’m so glad you’re here now, Storm Jameson. I have both of my girls together for the summer.”
“Is Marcus here for the summer too?”
Livi’s look was a warning. “Marcus has his own plans, but when he wants to be here, he’ll be welcomed. He’s part of the family.”
I looked to the skies. “What else is new? Lala messaged me about a new bar that had opened up in Santa Gertrudis.” Lala had messaged me about lots of things in the week before I arrived, including requests to bring over some weird moisturiser from a shop in Stockholm.
The town was in the centre of the island, full of cute, trendy bars and restaurants where artists and musicians hung out. It had a relaxed, easy going vibe, and wasn’t known by the clubbers. As children, Lara and I had spent weeks running around the market square, learning Catalan from the locals and being cursed by the artists whose work we almost spoilt.
“Còctels.” Livi smiled. “Original name for a cocktail bar. We don’t know who owns it, but it’s rustic. Maybe we could go tonight. Lara said the bartender must’ve trained somewhere pretty good. I may look at hiring him for the masked party.” Her eyes went dreamy again.
Livi had never really stopped being that party girl she was before she met Gav. She made sensible choices now; the drink and the drugs had stopped for the most of it, but she still lived for the buzz of a hive of people who could do nothing but smile and laugh and dance.
“We’ll go this week. I think tonight I just want to sit by the pool and watch the sunset. Maybe walk down to Cala Llentrisca.” It was another small cove, one mainly used by fishermen. The snorkelling was amazing there, and the sunsets peaceful and lonely.
Livi nodded, then smiled. “You’re so different, now, the two of you. When you were younger, you’d be sleeping now to make sure you could stay awake all night. I used to have to send Manny out to find you both asleep on the beaches and bring you home.”
“Did you ever worry about us, Livi? Going out here?”
