Everything inside Felipe protested at that. Lisbon was theirs. As if Rebecca felt the tension in him, she turned to him.
‘Felipe, this is Will, my friend from home.’
‘More than friends, Becca,’ said Will, putting an arm around her shoulder, stepping forward and holding out a friendly hand.
Felipe gritted his teeth, shook the man’s hand and managed a smile, even though inside he was raging at this man who’d been so careless of Rebecca’s feelings.
‘I’ll leave you to it. Nice to meet you, Will. Catch up with you later, Rebecca.’
‘Yes. Sure,’ she said, looking shell-shocked.
He strode off towards the farmhouse, anger, confusion and irritation combining into an unfamiliar cocktail of emotion. What the hell was wrong with him? He should be happy for Rebecca. The love of her life had turned up– so why did he feel so pissed off?
Chapter Sixteen
Will was here! Rebecca stared at herself in the mirror. What the hell? Her dream had come true– Will had missed her– and she felt sick. Really sick. Her stomach churned with slow flops over and over. This is what she’d always wanted. For Will to see her and now… And what about Felipe? He made her feel alive, sparkly and happy.
It was like going cold turkey. One minute they’d been laughing and joking together and the next minute she was watching his stiff back disappear into the distance and wanting to run after him. Her thoughts zigzagged backwards and forwards, drunk with confusion. She really didn’t know what to think.
In an attempt to pull her herself together, she splashed some cold water on her face. It would be rude to leave Will waiting for her out on the terrace any longer. She took in a deep breath and forced herself to straighten up and grasp the bathroom door.
‘Quite a view. This place is a real find,’ he said, as she sat down opposite him, taking the glass of wine he’d ordered for her. ‘I think I’m going to be able to get a lot of work done here. Andit obviously agrees with you.’ He paused and studied her face. ‘You’re… different. Glowing.’
‘Oh,’ she said, flushing a little because he was probably seeing the benefit of post-sex endorphins and happy hormones.
‘It’s so good to see you, Becca.’ He leaned forward and took her hand, raising it to his mouth and kissing her knuckles one by one. ‘I’ve really missed you,’ he said again. With a sombre laugh he shook his head. ‘It was only after you left I realised how much time we spent together and how much’—he lowered his voice—‘I care about you. I think we’re good together.’
Now, having waited for years to hear this sort of declaration from him, all she could do was stare dumbly at him.
‘Have I surprised you?’ he asked, clearly wanting to prompt her into speech.
She nodded. ‘Yes. I mean, it’s lovely to see you. I just… wasn’t expecting it. It’s…’ Shock was one way of putting it, but she didn’t think that was terribly diplomatic. With a tilt of her head, she studied him, wanting to say that he looked well but his face was a little pale. ‘You’ve been working too hard,’ she observed, and he smiled.
‘You know me so well.’ He squeezed her hand. ‘It’s so good to see you.’
‘How’s the book coming along?’ she asked, not wanting to fall into the trap of telling him that it was good to see him, too. She didn’t know how she felt; her emotions were in total disorder, as if someone had rummaged through them and jumbled them up.
His expression lightened and he looked pleased that she’d asked– almost magnanimous. Oh dear, was she deliberately trying to find fault with him? Was it weird that she couldn’t quash the slight resentment at his untimely intrusion or that he’d assumed he’d be welcome? Had he forgotten what had happened the month before she left?
‘Slowly. You know what it’s like.’
Actually, she didn’t. The thought of sitting and writing for hours was anathema to her. She’d rather be doing things. Keeping moving. She wasn’t very good at sitting still.
‘But it’s coming along well. I’m two-thirds of the way through. That’s part of the reason I came. I knew I needed to get away from the minutiae of daily life. Staying in a hotel will allow me that unrestricted time. I know you’ll be working during the day, so it’s ideal. We can get together in the evenings. It will be my reward for putting in the graft. And it would be great if you could read some and let me know what you think. I always value your opinion.’
She leaned forward, relieved to be on steadier ground and pleased they were lapsing into their usual rhythm. They’d been friends for a long time.
‘What’s this book about?’
Will wrote personal development books and was reasonably successful. His breakout several years ago had been all about how to survive grief after his wife had died.
‘This one is going to be quite controversial. It’s about the importance of self-worth. Being the main character in your own story. Giving yourself permission to be selfish. There’s been so much stuff about collective community, I think there’s a need for a reset. My publisher’s very excited about it. I need to deliver in the next month, so I thought to myself, a writing retreat where I don’t have to worry about anything but getting the words down would be perfect. And I get to spend some quality time with you too.’ His smile was slow to unfold as if he were eking it out bit by bit. ‘Win, win.’
‘Win, win,’ she echoed, giving him a smile. She studied his face, reminding herself of the features she’d always found so attractive. Will was boyishly handsome, with big blue eyes, an endearing smile and that floppy hair that he brushed back fromhis forehead whenever he looked at her, as if to get a better glimpse.
‘Exactly,’ he said, taking her arm. ‘Now, why don’t you show me around and help me get my bearings. I really want to find a shady nook where I can set up a desk. I think writing outside would really help me be more in-the-moment. More in tune with nature.’
She nodded, although she’d find working outside far too distracting. She’d be wanting to jump in the pool every five minutes.
