The Mermaid Garden (28 page)

He stumbled towards the beach where he put her down. “Any other

takers?” he asked, grinning at Pat and Veronica.

“I think I’ll make my own way,” Pat replied. “Bit of water won’t hurt!”

“I’ll stay on the boat and watch,” said Veronica.

Grey poured Veronica a glass of wine. “I have smoked-salmon sand-

wiches,” he said. “We’ll celebrate once we’ve caught a few crabs. Now,

Clemmie, are you going to show them how it’s done?”

Clementine forgot her aversion to crabs and tied a piece of bacon to

the string as if she had done it all her life. Rafa stood beside her as she tossed it into the water. “It’s a bit like fishing,” she told him. “You wait until you feel a tug and then slowly pull it in.”

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He got the bucket ready, and sure enough, after only a minute or

two, there was a tug on the line.

Clementine’s heart leapt. “Oh my God, we’ve got one. Dad, we’ve

got one!”

“Well done, you!”

“I think it’s a big one.” She pulled the line, lifting a large black crab out of the water. “It’s huge!”

“Wow! My first crab,” said Rafa.

Mine too
, thought Clementine.”Not so fast, pirate! This is
my
crab.”

She dropped it into the bucket of water. “Now, you take a piece of

string and some bacon, and see if you can catch one as big as mine. It’s a competition.”

“And the winner?” He raised his eye brows suggestively.

“Gets to eat it,” said Clementine.

“I was thinking of something much more fun.”

“What?”

“Not telling you now.”

“Go on!”

“Let’s see who wins. If I do, I might just take my prize without

asking.”

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16.

As the sun sank slowly towards the sea Rafa and Clementine stood

side by side on the pebbles, tossing their bacon strings into the

water. Their laughter ricocheted off the cliffs with the cries of gulls, who circled greedily in the hope of food. Pat was a crabbing veteran,

having spent her childhood holidays in Cornwall. When the bacon

didn’t lure the crabs fast enough, she just thrust her hand into the sea and caught them with her fingers, holding them up triumphantly for

everyone to see. Veronica watched from the boat, her glass of wine al-

most down to the last drop. Wrapped in a blanket, enjoying the rough

beauty of the little cove and the merry banter of her companions, she

applauded each catch with a whoop of delight.

Grey watched his daughter. It had been many years since he had

been able to entice her onto his boat. She had always loathed crabbing

and fishing, and had found the sea a dull place to be. But now, watch-

ing her with Rafa, one would have thought she had been raised on it.

She was deft at handling the lines, confident at bringing them in, and

unruffled at disentangling the crabs from the string. He noticed that

she was showing off to Rafa. So, it had taken the allure of a handsome

foreigner to get her to come out in the boat, but that didn’t matter.

The fact was that she was out, enjoying the best of Devon, sharing the

beach with her father.

Clementine sensed the pull of Grey’s stare and turned. When she

caught his eye, he smiled. Not his usual jolly smile, but a wistful one, tinged with pride. She grinned back, surprised by his affection. Then

she averted her gaze and settled it on her line, which had just begun to quiver. However, she wasn’t thinking of the crab she was about to catch, but her father’s gentle face. She couldn’t remember the last time he had looked at her like that.

When their buckets were full, they drank wine and ate the

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smoked-salmon sandwiches in celebration. “So, who wins?” asked

Clementine, holding up her bucket.

“You do,” Rafa replied.

“Are you sure?”

“Why let her win so easily?” Pat asked, munching heartily on her

sandwich.

“Because I’m a gentleman.”

“So, you won’t be taking your prize without asking?” said Clemen-

tine, a little disappointed.

“Because I’m a gentleman,” he repeated with a grin that made her

stomach lurch.

“So what is my prize?”

“Admiration.” He wound his arm around her waist, pulled her

against him, and kissed her cheek. Pat roared with laughter while Ve-

ronica watched with interest at the blossoming of young love.

Grey raised his glass in a toast. “To a wonderful evening with

friends,” he said. “But now we must be getting back. It’ll be dark soon.”

Rafa stood once more at the helm, but Clementine didn’t mind. Ve-

ronica and Pat were a hilarious duo and the three of them laughed all

the way back to the harbor.

“Oh dear, I think I’m a little tipsy,” said Veronica, taking Rafa’s hand and stepping onto the quay.

“It’s good for you, Veronica,” said Pat. “That’s why the French live so long. It’s all the wine they drink.”

“It feels as if the ground is going up and down, don’t you think?” Ve-

ronica added, grabbing hold of Rafa’s arm to steady herself.

“Let me escort you back to the car,” he suggested, placing his hand

on hers.

“You are a very dear man.”

“Thank you.”

“Not many young people would be so considerate. You know, when

you’re young you don’t ever imagine you’re going to be old. But it falls upon you quite unexpectedly and then, there you are, one of the old

people you rather despised.”

“I’ve never despised old people,” he said, walking her gently along

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the quay. “I love old people. They have lived many lives and experiences, and are full of wisdom.”

“You seem much older than you are, Rafa.”

“I know. I’m an old man in the body of a young man. One day the

body will catch up with the mind, and then I will feel complete.”

“Don’t you feel complete?”

“I feel dislocated, actually,” he confided.

“That’s got nothing to do with you being too old for your skin. So,

why is it, do you think?”

“Because I am rootless, Mrs. Leppley.”

“Please call me Veronica. We are all rootless, Rafa, until we find our

soul mate. I don’t imagine you have found yours yet?”

“No, I am still looking.”

She smiled tenderly. “You will find her, and when you do, the world

will shift into place and you will no longer feel dislocated.”

“I’m sure you are right.”

“I’m an old bird who’s seen a lot.”

“Did you find your soul mate?”

“Yes. My husband fell in love when he saw me dance.”

“I bet you were a beautiful dancer.”

“I was never Margot Fonteyn, but I was good. That’s the sadness of

growing old: one has to concede that there are things one can no longer do. But I love my husband and I have lots of grandchildren, and those

are the things that I value now. Not my ballet shoes.”

“Family is everything,” he agreed firmly.

“Oh, yes, it is.” She sighed. “I am very blessed.”

They returned to the Polzanze in high spirits. Pat recited limericks

while the car wound up the lane. It was nearly dark. The lights twinkled in the windows of passing houses and in the sky, which was studded

with stars, but none was as welcoming as the lights of the Polzanze.

Tom and Shane marched out to open the doors.

“I’m still feeling a little light-headed,” said Veronica happily. “It’s been a lovely day.”

“I’m so pleased,” said Grey, letting her slip her hand around his arm.

“I’m feeling very old, but very happy.”

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“I feel revitalized,” said Pat, striding past them. “Nothing like the sea wind to sweep away the years.”

Clementine opened the boot and lifted out the bucket. Inside were

five fat crabs. “These will do for dinner,” she said.

“Here, let me help you.” Rafa took the bucket off her. “Where do you

want them?”

“In our kitchen. Come, I’ll show you.”

“So, this is where you live,” he said, looking up at the pretty, gray

stone building with its white clock tower and weathercock.

“It’s the old stables. Submarine converted it for her private use.”

“Submarine?”

“Oh, I forgot. Sorry. Silly name I call my stepmother because she’s

so devious, like an enemy submarine.” She laughed, expecting him to

do the same. But he didn’t. He just looked uncomfortable. Clementine

was embarrassed. She wished she hadn’t said it.

She opened the front door and showed him through the hall to

the kitchen. “Why don’t you put it on the kitchen table?” He did as she asked, but when she looked at him, his whole face had changed. She

knew she had to say something to justify her comment. She so needed

him to laugh again. “Look, I’m sorry I was rude about Marina. But you

don’t know her like I do.”

He shrugged stiffly. “Your relationship is none of my business.”

“Then why are you offended by my nickname for her?”

“I’m not offended.”

“Yes, you are. Look, you’ve gone all strange.”

“I like your stepmother.”

“And it’s okay to like her. You’re a man, it’s no surprise. But I have a complicated relationship with her.”

“Yes, I know. It’s a problem because you’re allowing it to be one. It

doesn’t have to be a problem at all.”

“How do you mean?”

He sighed and leaned against the sideboard. “You have the power

of choice, Clementine, and you are choosing to hold on to old griev-

ances.”

“I can’t help it.”

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“Of course you can. The past no longer exists but in your mind. You

can choose to let it go whenever you like.”

“I can’t.”

“It is not who you are now.” She frowned crossly. “Have you ever

stood back and looked at the situation through
her
eyes?”

She lowered her voice. “I don’t think I have to understand her point

of view at all. She’s the one who stole my father and caused my parents to divorce.”

“Which was devastating for you at the time, of course. But nothing

is ever quite that simple. Have you ever sat down and asked her what

happened, woman to woman?”

“My mother told me the whole story.”

“How could she? She only knows her portion.”

Clementine felt her fury mount. “She knows enough. She was there,

for God’s sake.”

“No, she wasn’t.” He smiled at her sympathetically. “I’m not sug-

gesting you forget the past, just that you accept it and let it go so that it doesn’t ruin your present. You cannot change what happened, but

you can change the way you view it. There is always more than one side

to every story. You are not a child anymore. You should try to under-

stand it with compassion rather than cast blame and continue to feel

wounded.”

“You know nothing about it, Rafa. You’re way out of line here,” she

snapped.

“I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.”

“No, it isn’t.” She folded her arms defensively. “I think you should go.”

“Listen, Clementine, I can see that you are bitter. I’m only telling

you that you don’t have to be. It’s your choice.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay, I’ll go.” He made for the door. When he turned back, he

smiled at her sadly. “Enjoy the crabs.”

Clementine watched him leave, seething with rage and self-pity.

How dare he come into her family and tell her how to behave? She had

clearly misjudged him. From a few well-chosen words in the church

she had believed he understood her. From the way he looked at her

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she had believed he was attracted to her. But now, on reflection, she

realized he looked at everyone in the same way. Perhaps he was a typi-

cal Argentine man after all, out to seduce for the sheer pleasure of the sport. Shouldn’t she know better? Looks were only skin deep.

She was distracted by the ringing of her mobile telephone. Joe’s

number was displayed on the screen. She sighed with resignation. At

least Joe was kind. He didn’t glare at her when she told him about

her stepmother, or try to make her see Marina’s point of view. As if

that
was important, or of any interest to her! Above all, Joe was in love with her.

“Hi, Joe,” she said. “Fancy a crab for dinner?”

“Your place or mine?”

“Which do you think?” she asked sarcastically.

“Okay. Come over as soon as you can. I’m hungry.”

As he wandered back to the hotel, Rafa realized he had acted foolishly.

His father had always told him not to try to put the world to rights. As a young man he had always been drawn to the lame duck, the wounded

dog, the broken spirit, but a person accepted help only if he reached out for it. Clementine believed she was content where she was. She didn’t

want to be rescued, and anyway, he had his own problems. He’d make it

up with her in the morning then never touch the subject again.

After returning to his suite for a bath and change of clothes, he went

downstairs. There were a few guests chatting to Jake in the hall, and he could see through to the drawing room where small clusters of people