Waves of Betrayal (The Isabel Marsh Trilogy Book 1) (11 page)

‘I
do
love it!’ says Isabel happily, spinning around and watching the delicate skirts float up around her.

‘So do I, but, just a word of warning... try not to do that at the party, I just saw your knickers!!’ laughs Rachel.

They pay at the counter after picking up a gorgeous, coloured stone necklace to go with the outfit. Then they head happily up the main street towards the cathedral square.

‘It’s beautiful, isn’t it?’ says Isabel as she looks up in awe at the enormous Baroque style facade of the Cathedral, nearly three hundred feet high. ‘Shall we sit here in the square and have a drink? It’ll probably cost four times more than anywhere else but, you can’t really beat the view!’

‘Sounds good to me! I wouldn’t mind sitting in the sun for a bit actually, I smeared myself in factor fifty this morning so I wouldn’t burn. Strapless top too, to avoid tan lines,’ she laughs, ‘god, I’m so vain!’

They pull out two very heavy, expensive looking wooden chairs out from a little table for two, facing the cathedral. The whole square is dotted with little orange trees and it seems strange to them to be looking at a religious building surrounded by lush palm trees, so unlike the grey stone churches at home.

‘Seeing as we’re proper tourists, shall we order a jug of
Sangría,
like those people over there?!’ Rachel nods in the direction of two couples, the men both wearing three-quarter length trousers, football t-shirts, caps and socks with sandals. ‘The socks and sandals are a dead giveaway! Why do they do that?? You’d think their wives would stop them before they get out of the door wouldn’t you?!’ she laughs, ‘serious fashion faux-pas!!’

‘Rach, keep it down, they might hear you!!’ Isabel stifles a laugh, punching her friend lightly on the arm.

A very formally dressed waiter with a white linen tea towel over one arm approaches their table ‘
Buenos días señoritas ¿Qué les pongo?’

Isabel glances over at the drinks board ‘
Una jarra de Sangría, por favor.’
The waiter simply bows and heads back into the restaurant.

‘Woah it looks really posh in there Iz! I hope we’ve got enough money between us to pay for this,’ she laughs, looking slightly worried.

‘It’s fine Rach, it’s their daily special, twelve Euros a jug, I just saw it on the board!’

‘Ahhhh, hence the reason the socks-and-sandals-brigade can afford it then!!’

‘Rach, you’re a nightmare!!’ she says, covering her face with both hands in embarrassment.

A small plate of olives is delivered to their table by another formally dressed, serious waiter. Then, shortly afterwards, the first waiter returns with a stunning looking, fruit-filled jug of deep red
Sangría
. The two friends try not to look at each other as he sets it down very slowly and carefully, as if presenting the “Holy Grail” itself, rather than a jug of fruity wine. After setting a glass very precisely in front of each of them, on little white paper coasters, he bows again and takes his leave. The girls wait until he has disappeared, in a desperate attempt to stifle their laughter, wiping the tears from their eyes and holding their stomachs as if in pain.

‘God, I seriously hope I don’t spill any of this sacred red liquid on the white table cloth!’ jokes Rachel, using a napkin to wipe her eyes.

The joke is completely lost on the holiday makers on the table next to them who seem to be possessed by the sombre mood of the place and sit in almost total silence.

The
Sangría
is stronger than they had imagined, containing not only red wine and fruit juice, but some sort of spirits too. Very tasty and good value, but, nonetheless, they decide not to go into the Picasso museum after all. The fear of having to pay for thousands of pounds’ worth of damage to valuable works of Art persuades them to change their minds!

Isabel suggests a saunter through the Old Town, with its narrow winding, cobbled streets. The buildings are stunning. Beautiful carvings and wrought-iron decorative Juliette balconies. The streets are so narrow in places that they can sometimes stand in the middle and touch the buildings either side with out-stretched arms. They stumble across little souvenir shops, where they buy a few silly presents for the people back home. Miniature bottles of
Sangría
with little
sombreros
on top, magnets and key rings with flamenco dancers and fluffy black bulls dangling from them! Isabel buys a pretty, hand painted plate for Joan, as a thank-you gift.

They decide to stop at a busy Tapas Bar with small wooden stools and tables out on the street. They order potato croquettes with spinach and prawns and a big plate of
patatas bravas,
chunks of fried potatoes, covered in a spicy tomato sauce. They also give in to a glass of Rioja each, a delicious red wine, recommended by the friendly waiter. His enthusiasm for everything on the menu is infectious and the tables fill up very quickly around them.

He was right though! The food is delicious and the wine does complement it perfectly. They both fight to wipe the remainder of the spicy sauce from the plate with slices of crusty bread, ‘
delicioso!’
smiles Isabel to the waiter,
‘muy rico, gracias’
she continues to praise, gaining confidence.

Rachel goes in to find the loo whilst Isabel settles the bill, leaving a good tip. She checks her phone quickly for messages and is surprised to see one from Paul. ‘Oh god no,’ she whispers to herself, with one hand on her chest, her heart in her mouth:

Hi, spoke to Stephen. He told me ur back on Sunday, can’t wait to cu. Wanted to leave u a surprise in the house but someone changed the locks? I love u Iz and I’ll make it up to u, promise xxx

Rachel returns from the bathroom and wastes no time in grabbing the phone from Isabel’s hand and reading the message, having guessed instantly from her paralysed state who the message was from.

‘Well, you know what I think?! If you go back now, he’s going to be hammering on your door and stalking you until you take him back. That message is screaming
“Fatal Attraction”
to me Izzy.’

Isabel stares down at the scratched wooden table in front of her. Rachel grabs her by the shoulder and crouches down to her level beside the stool. ‘Stay on here for a while Iz. You have another five weeks before term starts for you anyway.’

‘I don’t know Rach. It’s one thing being here with you, but alone?!’ she pouts.

Rachel grabs her friend by the hand and pulls her up. ‘Come on, we may even be able to set you up with a little job, if you’re lucky!’ she winks.

‘
What??
Is that why you arranged to meet this bloke? Rach, you are such a meddler! I hadn’t even decided whether I was staying... and I don’t teach Spanish or English, I teach French!’ she argues, defensively.

Rachel shrugs ‘Surely that doesn’t make a lot of difference, I mean you’re a teacher, aren’t you? And you’re English!!’

Isabel sighs and allows herself to be pulled along, through the maze of little side streets, out into the light of the main road with the port on the other side.

‘It’s nearly four o’clock,’ says Rachel, ‘let’s see if we can find him. We don’t have to stay long if you don’t want to. Remember, nobody’s forcing you to stay in a lovely beach-side house with a hot tub and a sea view where the sun shines every day!! You can always choose to go back to your cheating, obsessive boyfriend?!’ she laughs, sarcastically pulling her friend into a warm hug as they make their way through the crowds of people towards a bar with prominent white parasols.

‘There he is!’ shouts Rachel, waving her shopping bags in the air as if she’d known him for years. Isabel follows reluctantly as she recognises the man from the plane. He looks more relaxed than she remembers, and less formally dressed in beige trousers and a white shirt, open at the neck.

‘Hello ladies, how lovely to see you again! How are you enjoying my beautiful country?’ he greets them with a kiss on each cheek. ‘The sun suits you! You both look radiant.’

‘Thank you. Shall we sit down?’ leads Rachel.

Very suave,
thinks Isabel, as he begins to order for all of them without even asking their preference.

‘So how do you like Málaga? Such a beautiful city, no? Many students love to come here for the culture and beaches and of course... the night life!’ laughs Rafael proudly, looking Isabel up and down as she straightens the straps of her sundress.

‘Oh it’s great, isn’t it, Iz? We’ve had such a lovely day. Luckily Isabel used to learn Spanish a long time ago and she remembers enough to be able to order food and drink for us, don’t you Iz?’ Rachel looks at her friend, encouragingly.

‘Yes, a little,’ she answers shyly, ‘I teach French in England so unfortunately have forgotten a lot of my Spanish.’

‘We are very short of teachers at the moment. I don’t suppose you’d be interested in a job here at my Language School, would you? Rachel mentioned on the phone that you may be staying on a little longer?’ he asks, leaning forward with interest.

‘Well, I...’ stammers Isabel, feeling uncomfortable.

‘It would be English of course, but I’m sure you’d have no problems with that would you? I mean you have all the skills of a Modern Language teacher!’

‘I’d have to think about it...’ mutters Isabel, not expecting a coffee with “Mr Window Seat” to turn into a job offer and
oh my goodness
... an absolutely
enormous
Gin and Tonic with a thick black straw.

‘That is one big goblet of Gin!!’ laughs Rachel gleefully, pouring in the cold fizzy tonic and watching the thick slice of lemon float to the top.

‘Of course, you think about it Isabel,’ says Rafael seriously, then turns to Rachel laughing at her reaction to the drink in front of her.

The conversation becomes more relaxed as the gin takes effect. Isabel slips off her pumps and puts her feet up on the empty chair opposite, enjoying the afternoon heat of the sun.

‘You could easily pass for Spanish you know, Isabel!’ says Rafael.

‘Ha ha, yes, I spent years of my childhood hating my Hispanic looks. I was teased for them. Most of my friends were pale and blonde. I sort of stood out like a sore thumb,’ she giggles into her drink, stirring the big tubular ice cubes with her straw.

‘Do you know; I think I might like to take up on your offer of a few hours teaching... as long as you have text books that I could borrow to prepare in advance. It might be fun! And if I’m going to be here for a few weeks then it would be good to meet some new people. Maybe I could even sit in on some Spanish classes myself?!’ she smiles.

‘Fantastic!’ says Rafael, rising from his chair, encouraging both girls to do likewise and join him in a toast. ‘To languages and friendship!’

‘Languages and friendship,’ Rachel and Isabel repeat, giggling over the raised glasses.

They sit down in companionable silence for a while, enjoying watching people stroll by, the ferries filling up with excitable families, couples browsing menus outside the restaurants and the general hub-bub of life down at the Port.

‘I love it down here,’ says Isabel dreamily.

‘Well then you won’t be disappointed by the location of the school,’ smiles Rafael, ‘It’s just off the main street behind us. You can come and have your lunch down here when you finish teaching!’

Isabel slips her feet back into her shoes and turns to face them both. ‘Really?! Oh what a perfect place for a school!’

‘Come on Monday at about 9.30 a.m., if you can, and I’ll show you around, give you resources, organise a timetable, that sort of thing. I’ll send you details of how to find us,’ he says formally, taking out his phone. ‘If you give me your email address I’ll send them later this evening.’

‘Great, thank you so much,’ smiles Isabel, taking his phone and entering her own number and email. ‘We have a party to go to tomorrow night so I’ll have the weekend to recover!’ she continues, looking up and grinning happily at her friend.

‘L
eanne, thank goodness you’re here! Mum is in a panic about the canapés or something and I’ve just spent the whole morning worrying that you weren’t going to turn up! You haven’t changed your mind, have you?’ he asks, holding her hands firmly in his and searching her eyes for any hint of doubt.

‘
Qué tonto eres!
You’re so silly, how could I ever change my mind?! I was just a bit held up in traffic, that’s all. I offered to give some of the others a lift home,’ she says, tucking a loose golden lock of hair behind her ear and looking up at him.

‘I’ve missed you,’ Marcos whispers with a sincerity that makes Leanne’s stomach flip.

‘Me too darling,’ she answers, as she leans her head against his chest and wraps her arms around his waist.

‘
Por fin
, at last!’ cries María from her terrace looking stressed and overheated, fanning herself with a thick piece of card, which Leanne assumes is the menu! ‘Can you come and help me with some of these canapés, I’m not at all sure about some of them. Come, come and look at the list!’ she says in a crisp, urgent voice walking back into the house and waving her hand frantically behind her, beckoning Leanne to follow.

‘Looks like you are needed my beautiful,’ Marcos smiles as Leanne rubs a teasing hand down his back and slowly follows her mother-in-law-to-be into her villa. She spins around on her heels on the terrace and shouts down, ‘I’ll see
you
later!’ and blows him a kiss.

Apparently men weren’t allowed to be involved in the organisation of this party at all. His father, Pedro, had left earlier to play a round of golf with his friends at the Club and Marcos had offered several times but his willingness to help is seen merely as interference.

He is in a good mood though. Apparently Rafael met a girl yesterday who is an English teacher and keen to start work on Monday for about a month. That will reduce class sizes considerably and make the courses more attractive. He smiles to himself, tosses his car keys into the air and catches them behind his back, deciding to make himself scarce for a while. Leanne will be, no doubt, kept busy for a few hours yet and then she’ll need at least two hours to get herself ready for the party.