‘I’m sorry.’ She’s not sure what else to say. She is already feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping over her at the knowledge that she has lost control again, made a scene. She looks towards the decking area of their apartment but Tim and Josh have already retreated indoors, leaving her alone. How much did her son see? What does he think when he sees his own mother behave like this? She swallows, feeling a familiar lump in her throat, followed by the tell-tale prickle of defiance. How dare they? It’s their fault, they made her do this. She turns back towards Petras.
‘You shouldn’t let anyone speak to you like that,’ she says finally. ‘It’s not right.’
18
It is nearly midnight. Inland, the air is still soupy with warmth. Only the distant cry of a gull or the occasional tang of the sea reminds Marcus that he is by the coast. That and the distinct lack of cars, now that most of the locals and holidaymakers are tucked up in bed.
He has parked by the renovation and is now quietly stealing into the garden, picking his way over the rubble and refuse left on site. God, some of these guys they have working for them are a bit slapdash, he thinks. Using his phone light as a torch, trying not to ruin his leather loafers, he sees empty cans, used vapes and yes, even a spanner left out on the ground. Who leaves their tools out unattended in all weathers? Not that they’ve had any rain lately. The earth is dry and cracked; the recent heatwave threatening a hosepipe ban.
As he reaches the door he takes out a key – a spare one Tobias and Olivia have granted him for work purposes – and eases his way carefully inside. He is mindful of the dangers, but he knows this place like the back of his hand and expertly manoeuvres his way around the build. Tonight he foregoes his usual precautions and does not wear a hard hat. In a few moments, as expected, there is a soft tap at the door and he opens it to find Bella standing in the semi-darkness. The golden hue of her skin seems to glow in the moonlight, as do her white teeth when she smiles broadly at him.
‘Working overtime?’ she says with a grin.
‘Come on, get inside,’ he says, not without humour. ‘Before we’re both seen.’
‘Okayyy,’ she drawls. ‘Someone’s edgy.’
‘Are you sure your parents didn’t see you leave?’
‘Nah,’ she says nonchalantly and he is reminded again of how annoying he finds the youth of today. ‘I just told my little brother I was nipping out for a fag. Mum and Dad went to bed ages ago. Bless them. All this sea air and they sleep like babies at their age.’
Marcus smiles at this vision of Tobias and Olivia, how the young seem to believe that anyone over the age of thirty is ancient and decrepit.
‘And anyway,’ she continues, ‘Drew is far too distracted trying to impress his new-found besties: the Taco Lads. He’s completely in love with them. I think he was planning to meet them for a drink on the beach later.’
Marcus raises his eyebrows at this. He wonders how Olivia would feel to know her precious son is out after hours, drinking alcohol by the waterfront with a bunch of wide-boy yokels. And if Tobias knew his darling daughter was here with him? Well, he’d probably have a heart attack. The thought gives him an extra little thrill of satisfaction.
Bella takes out a cigarette and lights it, the orange tip glowing in the darkness.
‘You know, you really shouldn’t be doing that on a building site, it’s not safe,’ says Marcus. ‘Also, someone might see the glow from the road and come and investigate …’
But she is not listening, instead pushing past him and leading the way up the stairs to the next level.
‘Relax, would you?’ she calls. ‘Come on, I’ll show you where my new bedroom is going to be.’
He follows her upwards, watching the coquettish sway of her hips; the slim brown stalks of her legs. When they reach the next floor, Bella spins around so that her face is already very close to his, her hands resting on his chest as if to steady herself. He can smell alcohol on her breath.
‘As a matter of fact, I already know where your bedroom will be,’ he says. ‘Don’t forget, I designed this whole place. In spite of what your mother and father would have you believe.’
She gives a small giggle.
‘What’s this? Dissension in the ranks? Do I detect a note of insubordination?’
He can tell she thinks she’s being clever and he tries to see the funny side. He can take a joke, after all. But still, it rankles.
‘I’m not your parents’ subordinate,’ he says. ‘I’m their colleague. Their consultant, if you will.’
Bella giggles again, less sure of herself.
‘But you are their employee, yeah? They are paying you, right?’
‘Yes, but …’ He starts to protest before she cuts him off mid-sentence.
‘Which is why it would be even more inappropriate for me to do this.’
Suddenly, she drops to her knees and begins to undo his belt buckle, nimble fingers working expertly.
‘Woah, wait, what are you doing …?’ He gasps, breathing heavily through his nose, senses firing. Taking a clump of her burnished hair and resting his other hand on the side of her head, he tries to gather himself. It is all happening so fast and even though he had wondered what exactly she had in mind when she arranged this clandestine meeting, things seem to have progressed beyond his control. He tries to pull away and she senses his reticence.
