Love Falls (17 page)

‘Made it!' Roland stretched, pulling his stomach in, thrusting out his chest. ‘
L'Amore
Falls!'

He extended his arms, his muscles flexed, his hair slicked down with sweat. He stayed like that longer than was necessary, as if enjoying the sheer power of his body, the lucky golden glory of being him, alive. They couldn't help it, all five of them, they looked at him, a lion, the leader of his pride, and then, to show she'd seen it all before but unable to control a small proud smile, Tabitha picked up a straw basket, and began to pick her way down towards the water – the roar of which was so loud that until now Lara hadn't heard it, it had so entirely filled her ears.

The waterfall was spectacular. It fell in a froth of foam, clearing quickly to a shoot of clear green water, tumbling into a pool below. The pool was banked by flat warm rocks, as if nature had formed it for no other reason than for fun. There were people swimming in this lower pool, letting themselves be pushed out by the tumbling water, clinging to the rocks to stop them floating off downstream.

Tabitha was spreading out a blanket in the shade of an overhanging tree. Lara unrolled a towel beside her and watched as May, lean and brown in her kingfisher-blue costume, waded into the river. Lara looked round for the others and saw Roland, followed by Kip and then Antonia, climbing the rocks that led up to the top. The rocks were huge, with splits and dents for footholds, and Lara could tell just by looking that there was no easy way down.

Eventually all three reached the top and turned and one by one they stepped out along the slippery stones until they stood just above the lip of the water as it came crashing down. Roland raised his arms, gave out a war cry, and then, instead of jumping, he put out a hand and pushed Kip off the ledge. Lara's blood rose, her hands formed into fists, but beside her Tabitha was laughing.

Kip fell, half-drowned by the spray, his arms and legs curved out to miss the rocks. She thought she saw his mouth open in a roar, and then he hit the water and was gone. She could hardly bear to wait. More than anything she wanted to look away, but she didn't dare until he was safely up. And there he was. Triumphant, spouting water, eyes gleaming wet.

‘Your turn now, you slimy bastards,' he shouted up to where Roland and Antonia were still standing at the top. He tipped on to his back and kicked himself towards the river mouth.

Lara pulled on her costume, tugged off her dress and ran down towards him. Thank God, she wanted to say, you're all right, but not a single word came out. Instead she smiled and slipped into the water and, swimming away from him, she closed her eyes against the sun and waited for his touch. She could almost feel it. His underwater embrace, their secret conversation re-established with no need for words, but instead of Kip she found herself seized by a stranger. He was stocky and strong. The sinews of his arms bit into her flesh. Lara struggled to swim free, but as she tried to shake him off she felt the water sucked down around her and the bomb of a teenage boy hit the surface with such force she was forced out of his grip and under by the pull. When she came up, the man glanced over at her and shook his head. ‘
Stupida
' she heard him mutter, as, still choking, she thanked him.
Molto genitale
, she said, but not aloud.

From then on Lara kept close to the rocks, idling in the shallows, clinging to the bank. The water was so clear at the edges that she could see swarms of minnows just below the surface and larger, browner fish, so close she was sure she could reach out and touch one, tickle it like salmon until it dozed into her hands. She sat on a half-submerged stone and watched Roland jump, legs straight as a needle, his gold skin flashing in the glare, and then Antonia, who, after a long suspenseful wait, leapt into the waterfall with a shriek. When she surfaced, her eyes were gleaming and she heaved herself out, and with a scornful look at both Roland and Kip, who'd rewarded themselves with cigarettes and lounging, she re-climbed the rock, and after an equally hair-raising wait threw herself off again.

By the time Lambert arrived Lara had forgotten he was coming. She'd forgotten the other car, Piers at the wheel, slowing sensibly on an S-bend. Lambert was carrying their straw basket of fruit and a long, furled-up umbrella. He was followed by two identical girls who trod shyly on to the rock beside Tabitha and settled themselves down.

Lara pulled herself out of the water. ‘Hello.' She touched her father on the arm and he turned and introduced her.

‘Lara, this is Nettle, and Willow. Their mother is a friend of Pamela. She's coming out in a few days.'

‘Willow and Nettle,' they corrected him, and they looked up at Lara, the bewildered look of years of boarding school stamped across their bony, rounded backs.

Just then Roland hurtled down from the rock above, leaping out dangerously from the waterfall, clasping hold of his bent knees in mid-air and falling like a star.

‘My God,' the girls gasped, and they watched him admiringly as he swaggered out.

‘You have a go.' He splashed them, but they sat folded in on themselves, knees drawn up, stomachs hollow as greyhounds.

Lambert sat down beside May. ‘So.' He sounded awkward. ‘What are you reading at university?'

‘Oh,' May replied, equally awkward, ‘I'm not bothering with university. I've been in Paris, doing a cordon bleu cooking course, and next spring . . . actually I'm getting married.'

‘I see.' Lambert cleared his throat. ‘Of course, I remember now. So you are.'

Lara lay in the sun, half reading the paper while she watched Kip leaping down the waterfall, his sleek skin, his lovely awkward body. Occasionally Lambert's conversation drifted over to her. He was telling May about the history of Siena, how for many years, long ago, it was at war with Florence. Lambert described for her the battles between the two cities, and the weakness in Renaissance politics that eventually allowed the French to storm in and seize power.

‘They still pay homage, at the Palio, as I'm sure you know, to the cities that gave them shelter when they were in exile. It's a wonderful thought, isn't it, a whole city going into exile, and then,' he added wistfully, ‘returning home again.'

May murmured that it was. ‘That's so interesting,' she said with just a little too much enthusiasm. ‘I didn't know.'

Eventually Lambert stood up for a swim, and as soon as he had slipped into the water May moved her towel over to lie beside Piers.

‘I've had a thought,' she said. ‘Maybe, as well as wine and champagne, we should have cider at the wedding. You know, for all your awful rugger friends.'

‘Hmmm, whatever you say,' Piers said sleepily, and he took her hand.

‘So, tell me, girls.' Roland was squatting down beside the twins. ‘What's the news with you this summer? Is your mother still in that bloody awful play?'

‘Yes,' they told him hesitantly.

Roland lay down beside them, his back to his wife, and leant up on one arm so that his muscle bulged. ‘So what's the gossip and scandal then? Come on. Tell me something I don't know.'

‘There's nothing,' they squirmed. ‘Nothing.'

Tabitha ignored him. She took out a magazine and balancing it on her bump she leafed through its sumptuous pages.

By the time Lambert rose up out of the water there was no place for him. He stood for a moment, unsure what to do, glancing up at Antonia and Kip on the cliff above, urging each other on to increasingly dangerous jumps. He looked at Piers and May holding hands on their blanket, discussing their wedding, arguing in the most amiable way over the names of babies they hoped to have.

‘Sit here,' Lara called, patting the towel beside her, and Lambert sat down.

It was up to her now. She would have to entertain him, but she couldn't think of anything to say. She looked round anxiously. How could they ignore him like this? Gossiping and giggling when they should be taking this opportunity to talk to him, but even as she blamed them she struggled for anything to say herself. Lambert opened a bottle of apricot juice and offered it around. But no one wanted any.

‘So . . .' She took her cue from the news. ‘What will happen, will the hunger strikers all be left to die?' She'd been reading in
The Times
how terrorists had fired shots over the coffin of a twenty-five-year-old man who'd died after seventy-one days without food. She felt her eyes well up with pity, her heart thump with anger on his behalf. ‘Will no one do
anything
?' She thought she heard Roland groan, but she didn't look round.

Lambert narrowed his eyes as if he'd seen something new in her. ‘It will make a difference,' he said, ‘but only when no one's looking.' And he explained how important it was that the government must never seem to be talking to their enemies, even if the only way to move forward was to talk. He began to explain to her about the history of the Troubles, the birth of the IRA, the Tory Party's policies, and Lara listened so hard she found she'd drifted off and was watching Kip wrestling with his sister on the rock above. ‘Is that any clearer?' Lambert asked, and she had to swing her attention back to him, and just in time to catch Roland in a gaping yawn.

‘Yes.' She nodded earnestly. ‘I think it is.'

Lambert picked up the paper and Lara read over his shoulder about a little boy who'd been missing since the day of the Royal Wedding. He'd been wearing dark trousers and a blue-and-white-hooped T-shirt and he'd last been seen by his nanny and his younger sister when he'd bought sweets in Kensington High Street before setting off ahead of them for home. A week. Lara thought. He's been missing for a week, and the boy who'd re-enacted his last steps, a boy called Sunil, had worn the hooped T-shirt too and bought exactly the same sweets.

Eventually it was time for lunch. The Willoughbys had brought a feast. Lara pushed their own basket of fruit to the middle and unpacked their sandwiches, which looked meagre and faintly disrespectful beside the tray of chicken, roasted vegetables, salads and cake that May and Tabitha unloaded from the car. But eating was a relief. There was something unanimous about it; it was something they could all join in. Even Kip and Antonia dragged themselves out of the water and came, chilly and dazzling, to the edge of the cloth.

‘Let's play a game,' Piers suggested, and it was decided that everyone must take a turn at saying something that they'd never done.

‘I've never had sex with a goat,' Roland started, his mouth still full, but he scored nothing, because nor had anyone else.

‘You only win points,' May chided him, ‘if everyone else has done it. You need to be the only one who's resisted the lure of the goat.'

‘I've never had sex . . .' Antonia sounded pleased. ‘With a man!'

But she only won meagre points because Roland, Kip, Piers, Lambert, Willow and Nettle all put up their hands. ‘Nor have we!' they chanted.

‘Piers . . .' May nudged him. ‘Be honest. What about school?'

‘Does that count?' he asked, eyes widening, and he was told it did.

Roland grinned and lowered his arm too. ‘They were only boys.'

Lara's heart was thudding. Did her one night count? Her one night spent fumbling and apologising and keeping her eyes tight shut while a boy from Turnpike Lane attempted to make love to her? Yes, she decided. It had to. And she was glad now she'd gone through with it.

‘Lara!' the circle were calling. ‘It's your turn!'

‘OK. I've never . . .' What could she say? ‘I've never had a fringe.' There was silence for a moment as they took this in. ‘I mean, I've always had a side-parting. I've thought about it . . . but  . . .'

‘OK, OK, you nitwit. Next.' There were groans and laughter and it was Tabitha's turn.

‘I've never seen a wild boar.'

‘Nor me. Or me.' Almost no one had. The game went on.

‘I've never taken cocaine,' Piers said, triumphant, as if he'd known his abstinence would prove to be useful in the end. And he was right. Hands stayed down, except for Lambert. Even Nettle and Willow kept their arms by their sides.

‘I've never seen my mother naked.' It was May, and for a moment she looked sad.

‘I have,' Kip said gloomily.

‘But you were spoilt. The baby. The only one she loved!'

‘You should have been there. It wasn't that much fun.'

‘OK, enough bickering.' Antonia sighed. ‘Kip, it's your turn.'

Kip thought for a minute, and then he looked up. ‘I've never been in love.' There was silence as his eyes travelled the circle. For a brief moment they met Lara's and she looked down.

Of course she'd been in love. Her whole life had been lived out in degrees of adoration. What else was there to do? She looked across at Willow and Nettle, blushing, scratching patterns in the earth, at Antonia – a woman of experience, just not with goats, or men. Then there were Piers and May, officially in love, and the one married couple, surely they must have been in love once. Roland's hand flickered and was slapped down. And then slowly, out of the still circle, Lambert raised his hand.