Walking through the grounds, she stopped to admire the glorious infinity pool which stopped just short of the rich umber cliffs that edged the rolling Atlantic beyond. The wind rustled in the pines bordering the garden and fragrant bursts of thyme perfumed the air as she brushed past the herb-filled borders.
This place seemed to be every bit as idyllic as its description on the website, according to which there were twenty bedrooms each with their own private terrace or balcony, and a wellness and spa centre with an indoor hydrotherapy pool, two outdoor freshwater pools, several spa treatment rooms and, of course, the Pilates pagoda set in the grounds amongst the lavender fields, where she would be teaching each morning. She would also be part of the hotel staff and undertake other duties, including waitressing and room cleaning. She guessed that might have put other people off, but not her. Such was her desperation to escape the small Buckinghamshire village where everyone was laughing at her that she’d jumped at the chance to put her Pilates training to good use.
Rebecca smiled to herself as she approached the rustic wooden door at the entrance to the old farmhouse. She would forget about all the negative thoughts. She’d made the break and got away from Will, and was finally accepting that he would never see her as more than a good friend. Despite her bright smile bolstering her, the realisation never got any easier. Why did love have to hurt so much? When would this constant ache weighing heavily on her heart finally relax its hold?
She lifted her chin. Fresh start. New challenge. Even though she was a good half-hour early, she pushed open the door andstepped into the cool, dark interior with its thick whitewashed walls and worn terracotta tiled floor. She glanced around the long corridor brightened by full-length occasional windows that looked out over the main pool. Through the open doors on the opposite side, she could hear the furious cheeping of the hyperactive sparrows that darted through the trees.
‘Can I help you?’ asked a man in what she guessed was the hotel uniform: tan shorts and a cotton polo shirt bearing the hotel logo, topped with an apron a shade darker. He had kind eyes, and his dark hair shot through with grey suggested he was probably in his early fifties.
‘Erm, I’m a bit early. I’ve got a meeting with the spa manager at ten. I’m the new Pilates teacher. I was told to meet him here in the restaurant.’
‘Ah, welcome.’ His dark eyes crinkled encouragingly with friendly warmth. ‘I am Antonio, the manager of the restaurant. Can I get you a coffee or an orange juice while you wait?’
She grinned at him. ‘I wouldn’t say no to an orange juice.’
‘Come sit on the terrace. How about some breakfast?’
She gave him an uncertain look. Antonio grinned. ‘Don’t worry, we’re very informal. Go find a table. Anywhere you like.’
As it was such a gorgeous morning and Rebecca loved being outside, she needed no further encouragement. Part of the appeal of the job– who was she kidding– thebiggestpart of the appeal of the job was that she’d be teaching outside every day.
She took a seat under one of the sail shades. Even at this hour, the Portuguese sun was fierce. Someone had chosen well when they’d sited the original farm here. The terrace surrounding the restaurant, built onto the side of the farmhouse, was perfectly positioned to take in the view. Even though they were on the clifftop just above the beach, there wasn’t another building in the immediate vicinity. Below the farmhouse, which stood on a small rise, was a grove of orange trees, the orangesbeacon-bright dots amongst the deep green glossy leaves, and beyond that, open, dusty fields of pale straw.
Relaxing into her seat, she watched a pair of unfamiliar but striking birds, each with a pinkish-brown body, black-and-white striped wings and rakish pointed heads. She was so absorbed in their fussy antics as they pecked sedately at the nearby lush green lawn that she didn’t notice the man approaching until he pulled out the chair opposite. She looked over, startled by the grate of wood on stone.
‘Hoopoes,’ he said, following her gaze. ‘Funny little things. They always make me smile.’
‘They are sweet,’ said Rebecca, recognising Felipe from the pool. His friendly grin immediately made her feel more positive about her decision to come here. She was going to make lots of new friends this summer. Make the most of what could be a brilliant trip. ‘Hello again.’
‘Do you mind?’ he asked, indicating the chair.
She shook her head.Mind? Not at all.All dried off, he was even more gorgeous than he had been in the pool. ‘Although I do have a meeting in twenty minutes with the spa manager, my boss.’
She glanced at him, awareness suddenly dawning. ‘You’re not my boss, are you?’
That would be such a shame.
He paused and then shook his head. ‘I’m not the spa manager. And don’t worry about her. She’s a pussy cat, really.’ His eyes twinkled at her and she was surprised at the punch of relief she felt. Not her boss. Not off limits.
‘I wasn’t worried until you said that,’ said Rebecca, laughing.
Antonio came out through the row of French windows bordering the restaurant, carrying a large jug of orange juice in one hand and rather impressively balancing a big round tray in the other.
He nodded at Felipe with a warm smile. ‘Morning. Coffee? Breakfast?’
‘Hi, Antonio. Can I take a fresh coffee? No breakfast, thank you. I already ate far too many of Ana’s pastries.’
Rebecca noted the quick interchange and decided that Felipe must be a guest. Looking at the array of fresh fruit, pastries, ham and cheese, along with several types of bread in a separate basket and a little dish of what looked like home-made jam, her mouth watered and she wasn’t sure where to start.
‘Thank you, this looks like an amazing breakfast.’
‘You’re welcome,’ said Antonio. ‘Orange juice?’
‘People travel for kilometres to come for breakfast,’ said Felipe. ‘Quinto do Mar is known for it.’
In response to her nod, the waiter poured the almost neon orange liquid into her glass and stepped back, waiting as she took a sip, almost like a sommelier.
‘Oh wow!’ she said, as the zing of citrus hit her tongue. He nodded with satisfaction as if his job here was done, and then retreated back to the restaurant.
