The Holiday (26 page)

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Authors: Erica James

Tags: #Fiction, #General

BOOK: The Holiday
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‘Izzy doesn’t wear makeup.’
‘She might tonight. She might feel she has to impress you.’
Now, as Theo pressed the doorbell, he hoped that Mark was wrong, that Izzy didn’t feel the need to impress him. The last thing he wanted was for her to have spoiled her natural charm by covering herself in what she didn’t need. She was perfect just as she was. He thought of the night when he had first met her and hoped that he was in for a repeat performance.
Max opened the door to him and led him through to the sitting room. Straight away Theo sensed that the relationship between them had shifted from its customary friendliness.
‘So, where are you taking Izzy?’ asked Max. He spoke stiffly, with all the authority of a Victorian father. He might just as well have been standing with his back to the fireplace, his hands clasped behind him, ready to take a horsewhip to Theo. It was tempting to taunt him and he was on the verge of doing so when he heard voices. Francesca and Sally came in from the terrace through one of the open french windows.
‘Hi, Theo,’ said Francesca. She threw herself on to one of the sofas and kicked off her fluorescent orange flip-flops. ‘All ready for your hot date with Izzy?’
He smiled. ‘I was under the impression I was merely having dinner with her. It has now turned into a hot date, has it? What fun. I look forward to the evening with greater anticipation.’ Out of the corner of his eye he saw Sally draping her slinky body along the length of the sofa to his right. She was doing her best to attract his attention, running a hand through her long hair and sighing exaggeratedly. Amused, he turned to Max and suggested they go outside.
‘How is it going with your young house guest?’ he asked, when they were beyond eavesdropping distance. He hoped the question might help to restore the equilibrium of their friendship.
‘She’s behaving herself quite well, really. She’s been as good as gold, apart from that little display in there just now.’
‘Well, to put your mind at rest, she is wasting her time with me.’
Max looked at him closely. ‘It’s not you and Sally I’m worried about.’
‘Oh?’
‘Come off it, Theo. Don’t play the innocent with me. This thing you seem to have going with Izzy, you won’t ... well, you won’t do anything to upset her, will you? I’m very fond of her and I’d hate to see her ...’ He cleared his throat and tried again. ‘I’d hate to see her used in any way.’
Levelling his gaze on Max’s concerned face, Theo said, ‘Two questions, Max. What “thing” is it you assume that I have going with Izzy, and why would I want to upset her?’
‘You know jolly well what I mean. You have a certain attitude when it comes to women.’
Theo shook his head. ‘No, Max. You have decided for me that I have a certain attitude towards women. You have leaped to a conclusion regarding my private life and refuse to see me in any other light. But I will give you this promise: I have no more intention of hurting Izzy than you did when you first got to know Laura.’
‘But that was different. It was love that I felt for Laura, it wasn’t any of this fly-by-night — ’
‘And there you go again, leaping to conclusions. Now, then, if I am not mistaken, I hear the object of your desire approaching.’
Both men rose to their feet, and at once Theo saw that his wish had been granted. Flanked by Laura and Olivia, the object of his own desire looked as charming as she had the first night they had met.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Shirley Maclaine singing, ‘If My Friends Could See Me Now’ from the film
Sweet Charity
kept going through Izzy’s mind as Theo, smiling and relaxed, decked out sexily in a loose-fitting linen suit, sunglasses and a litre or two of intoxicating aftershave, drove at an alarming speed through the sluggish early evening traffic. As he zigzagged his BMW through the slower-moving cars that threatened to slow his progress he struck Izzy as a man who had been born to drive flashy sports cars.
With the invigorating cool air rushing at her face as they drove along narrow winding roads that took them high into the hills, she was glad that she had elected to wear her hair in a plait - she had known that two minutes in an open-topped car with her hair loose would have been asking for trouble.
Throughout the day Francesca and Sally had been full of useful fashion tips and advice for her evening out with Theo. Francesca had been keen to lend her some outlandish clothes from her wardrobe as well as give her a head of stumpy little bumps threaded with bits of rag, while Sally had advocated the I‘ve-just-tumbled-out-of-bed-but-for-you-I’ m-willing-to-get-back-in look. ‘Forget Francesca’s funky look. Wanton allure is what you want to go for,’ she had urged. ‘Take it from me, it works every time.’
So would hanging out her tongue and pasting a Bonk Me Now label to it, Izzy had thought. She turned down Sally’s offer to let her plunder the bewildering depths of her makeup bag, shooed the girls away and got ready alone, determined not to associate herself with purses made from sows’ ears.
Just as Izzy was wondering if there were any more heart-stopping hairpin bends to negotiate, they arrived at the restaurant. It was tucked into the hillside and a craggy-faced man called Spiros greeted them. He looked much older than Theo, but amazingly they were the same age. ‘We were in the army together for our national service,’ Theo explained. ‘That was where Spiros learned to cook so badly.’
‘Yes — and, as a military chauffeur, it was where Theo learned to drive so fast,’ laughed Spiros. He led them through the air-conditioned interior of the restaurant and outside to a covered area that gave them a perfect view of the slope of the hill they had just climbed, and which stretched away into the lush green valley. The light was already fading and pretty lanterns glowed on the white-clothed tables. Only a few tables were empty, but Spiros guided them to one that was reserved.
No sooner had they taken their seats and Spiros had left them than a short, overweight woman, hot and flushed, appeared. Theo immediately got to his feet and embraced her. After much kissing and a voluble exchange of words, he turned to Izzy and introduced her: ‘Izzy, this is Marika, Spiros’ wife. She doesn’t speak any English, but if you are very nice to her she will cook you the best meal of your life.’
Izzy held out her hand and smiled.
‘Kalispéra,’
she said, adding hesitantly
‘ti kanete?’
The other woman’s face lit up with approval, but her quick-fired response was way beyond the simple words and phrases Izzy had picked up so far, and she looked to Theo for help. Smiling, he said, ‘Marika says she is very well and compliments you on your accent.’ Another lively and incomprehensible blast of banter from Marika followed, involving a lot of head-shaking and even a wagging finger. When they were alone, Izzy asked him what else Marika had said — ‘She sounded very cross with you.’
He laughed. ‘She was saying how beautiful you were, and that you were probably far too good for me.’
Izzy blushed, reached for her menu and studied it hard.
Theo smiled to himself. It hadn’t been exactly what Marika had said, but he had seen it as a perfect opportunity to pay Izzy a compliment without frightening her off. Marika had in fact told him that this was yet another attractive woman he had brought to their restaurant and when was he going to make a return visit with the same one?
It amused him that Izzy still took fright every time he said anything nice about her. No matter how sincere he tried to make his words sound, they never penetrated the barrier of embarrassed awkwardness she hid behind. He had mentioned it to Mark. ‘It doesn’t matter how serious I try to be, she clearly thinks I am falsely flattering her. The guard, it goes straight up.’
‘She’s intelligent and English, Theo.
Ergo,
she has a natural suspicion of foreign men such as you, who make it their business to trade flattery for sex.’
‘I don’t recall my being a foreigner presenting itself as a problem when we were students.’
‘The girls then were young and foolishly taken in by your supposed Continental good looks and money. You were one of the swankiest students in college, infamous for your extravagant parties. Of course they fell for you. You were a good catch - you were the Aristotle Onassis of Old Durham Town.’
‘So how am I to gain her trust?’
‘Perhaps you never will. Maybe you should just give in to the fact that she doesn’t fancy you.’
Thinking of what Mark had said, and glancing at Izzy’s pensive face, Theo felt even more determined to convince her - and everybody else — that he was serious about her. He wasn’t used to being denied what he wanted but, to his surprise, the experience was not without its appeal. It would make the moment when it came - and he was certain it would - that much more pleasurable. Denial, he was coming to know, was good for sharpening one’s sexual appetite.
Once Spiros had taken their order, brought them their wine and then their starter, they both relaxed into the evening. It was Izzy who asked the first question. ‘I’ve kept my part of the bargain and agreed to have dinner with you. Now you must keep yours.’
‘And what would that be?’
‘You said you’d tell me the significance of Mark’s dedication to you in
Culling The Good.’
‘Ah, I see. Well, before I solve the mystery for you, tell me, have you started reading it, and if so, what do you think of it?’
‘I haven’t been able to put it down,’ she said, truthfully. All that day she had been gripped by its dark, menacing pace. ‘I can see that I’m going to have to view Mark in a whole new light.’
He laughed. ‘You think, then, that he is more interesting after reading a few chapters of his book?’
She caught his mocking tone. ‘Not quite, but it does leave me wondering what else he’s got going on inside that head of his.’
‘You would not be the first.’
This time Theo’s words were weighted with a seriousness that made Izzy’s curiosity get the better of her. ‘The first night I met you, you said that Mark had saved your life. What happened to you?’
He helped himself to another piece of bread from the basket between them, wiped it across his plate of fried aubergine salad, and said, ‘It was when we were students. Late one night, on my way home after a party, I was attacked by a couple of young gentlemen who were eager to part me from my wallet. It was lucky for me that Mark is such a hooligan and is able to fight so well.’ Finishing what was in his mouth, he added, ‘According to the doctors, I was fortunate that Mark was passing at the time. If it had not been for him — ’ He stopped abruptly.
‘Go on,’ she said softly. She sensed that for once Theo was in earnest.
But if he had been, it was short-lived. His face lit up with a sexy grin and he said, ‘If it had not been for Mark I would not be here tonight enjoying myself with you.’
Annoyed, she fiddled with her wine-glass, twisting its stem between her fingers. ‘I wish you wouldn’t do that.’
‘I should very much like for your every wish to be my command, but what is it exactly that I must stop doing?’
‘You always ... oh, I don’t know, but everything turns into a joke with you.’
‘Why should that be a problem?’
‘It means I never know where I stand with you.’
‘You would rather I was more sombre?’
‘Yes, if it meant I didn’t think you were laughing at me.’
In an instant the smile was gone from his face. He reached across the table, took her wine-glass from her, then held her hand. ‘Is that what you think I have been doing? Is that why you refuse to let your guard down with me?’
She tried to slip away her hand, but he grasped it firmly.
‘Izzy, please, I want you to know that I would never laugh at you. I’m not playing some silly game. It is important to me that you understand that.’
Izzy wished the conversation hadn’t taken this particular turn, and suddenly felt tense, wary of where Theo might think he could lead her. But then she chided herself for overreacting. She forced herself to relax, to listen to the plinkety-plink of the bouzoúki music coming from inside the restaurant. ‘Did you ever see the film
Shirley Valentine?’
She asked at last, hoping that she had hit upon a way to make Theo understand why she was so cautious of him.
Without releasing her hand, he nodded. ‘Yes, of course I have. And I think, much as it will amuse you, most Corfiot men aspire to be your esteemed Mr Tom Conti. But what is the point you are making?’
‘Um ... Well, do you remember the part when she discovers that Tom Conti, with whom she has — ’
‘Yes,’ he interrupted, ‘the boat looked in danger of capsizing.’
‘I wasn’t thinking of that bit specifically. I was going to say, do you remember when she realises he’s been using the same chat-up line for countless other female tourists?’
Letting go of Izzy’s hand, Theo said, ‘Ah, so you see me in the same role. You think that I try out the same old routine on any pretty girl who comes my way, is that it?’
She wanted to say, ‘Swear that that isn’t
exactly
what you do,’ but said, ‘Maybe you’re a tiny bit more subtle.’
He frowned. ‘Do you not find me just a little attractive, Izzy?’
‘You have your moments,’ almost tripped off her tongue, but she doused the confession with a sip of her wine.
Still frowning, he said, ‘So how do I convince you that I have the potential to be totally different?’
‘You could spend the rest of the evening by not trying to come on to me.’
‘What? Not one compliment?’
She shook her head.
‘Not one? “Your eyes are like the stars in the heavens — ”’
‘Definitely not!’
‘How about a — ’
‘Nothing, Theo. You’re to be completely straight with me. No silliness.’
‘Am I allowed to touch you?’
She hesitated. It had been quite pleasant a few minutes ago when his strong square hand had held hers. ‘No,’ she said resolutely. There were to be no half measures.

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