Waves of Betrayal (The Isabel Marsh Trilogy Book 1) (15 page)

‘Come on, I don’t want you to leave anything out!’ Rachel laughs as she delivers a tray of tea and croissants to the table. ‘He is bloody gorgeous by the way. I doubt I’d have been so restrained,’ she says, taking a big bite of crumbly pastry.

‘There’s really not much more to tell! You went for the towels... you sneaky mare... leaving me alone, in a warm swimming pool, scantily clad, with “Mr. Darcy”! What did you expect??!!’ she laughs out loud and jiggles her feet on the chair, spilling her tea.

‘So what I really want to know is what are you both going to do about it?’ Rachel asks, with a wink.

‘About
what
? Oh Rach, he’s engaged to be married. Albeit to the Witch from Hell, but that’s that.’ She sips her tea quietly, reflecting on the futility of the situation. ‘I cannot imagine what Marcos is doing with her though. That woman is seriously possessed or something!’

‘So do you want to be with Marcos?’ asks Rachel, simply.

‘Rach...!’

‘
Do
you?’ she repeats firmly.

‘Well...’

‘Because, if you do,’ Rachel interrupts, ‘it’s simple. We tell him that we know that she’s having an affair. We know she is! We’ve seen her twice in broad daylight... well, once on the beach at night, but you know what I mean.’

‘We just tell him??’ says Isabel shaking her head sarcastically, ‘Rach, she’ll just deny it and who’s he going to believe? Marcos will end up hating
me
for trying to break up their relationship!’

Rachel sits back in her chair thoughtfully and Isabel continues, ‘Anyway, there are more people involved here than just Marcos, Leanne and I...! What about Paul?’

‘Paul?!’ gasps Rachel ‘don’t tell me you’re seriously still thinking about going back to Paul? I thought you agreed with me on that one? The psycho is arranging a welcome-home party for you tomorrow! Have you not told him that you’re not going back yet?’

‘Rachel, he may have cheated, but he’s not a psycho! Anyway, I think everyone deserves a second chance, don’t you?’

‘
No
,’ answers Rachel firmly, looking at her friend as if she has gone mad.

They finish their breakfast in silence and then Isabel stacks the tray with the empty cups and plates. She looks over at her friend, ‘Oi, moody pants! I’ll text Paul now if it will make you happy,’ she smiles as her friend nods with enthusiasm, ‘and then we’d better go and make the most of your last day here!’

Hi Paul. Have decided to stay in Spain for a few more weeks. Will let u know when I book flight.

‘Ping! Gone! Right, no more stressing about a welcome party at the airport. I’ve made it perfectly clear that I won’t be arriving with you tomorrow. And you’ll have my mum and dad with you if he turns up and tries to interrogate you!’ she laughs, ‘I think you were right though. The more time we spend apart the more time we have to seriously think about what we’re going to do. The last thing I want to do is move back into the cottage with him and carry on as if nothing has happened.’

‘Good girl!’ says Rachel, giving her friend a hug, ‘I’m proud of you!’

‘We’re meeting mum and dad at three o’clock for lunch, so shall we go for a swim and get a couple of beds? I doubt you’ll have much opportunity to do that for a while in Cartheston!!’ Isabel teases.

They go back to the same restaurant and the man renting the sunbeds recognises them. ‘Good to see you again
guapas
, you are not looking so pale now. You enjoy the Spanish sun!’ he laughs, taking the money from Rachel and giving her one last appraising look.

‘You’ve got a fan there, Rach!’ Isabel winks.

‘Hmmmm, not sure he’s my type! You’re the one with the gorgeous triathletes trying to rip your clothes off in swimming pools!’ Rachel laughs, nudging her friend as she nearly topples over onto the sand with one leg out of her shorts.

‘Oh Rach’ Isabel pouts, ‘how am I going to cope without you being here? It’s been so much fun.’

‘You’ll be fine! Anyway, you start your new job on Monday so you’ll be busy with that and you’ll probably meet lots of lovely people there.’

‘Oh blimey yes, don’t remind me!!’ says Isabel, brushing the sand off her towel and lying down on the bed. She closes her eyes.

‘You may end up never wanting to come home!’

Isabel turns to face her friend, shading her eyes from the glare of the sun. ‘Just because you want a permanent holiday home for you and Stephen,’ she laughs.

‘Ahhhhhh,’ sighs Rachel, lying back, ‘it is gorgeous here though isn’t it? If you really wanted to, you know you could stay Iz. How crazy is that?! You come out here for a week and end up with a job... and a rich boyfriend with his own villa, if you play your cards right!’ she adds, quickly rolling over and dodging Isabel’s arm as she reaches over to hit her, ‘Ok, sorry, sorry!’ she giggles.

‘You promise to keep me posted about what’s going on at home though, Rach? And tell Claire that I miss her,’ Isabel says solemnly.

‘Of course, you daft moo! Now let’s go for a swim before I lose half of my body weight in perspiration,’ puffs Rachel, sliding her feet into her flip flops.

The water is a shock to their hot skin as they wade out to their waists and then stand, jumping on the spot, trying to get used to the cold sea without screaming and drawing too much attention to themselves. After bobbing up and down a few times to acclimatise, they swim confidently out, towards the horizon.

‘Just look at that Iz,’ says Rachel as she stops swimming and gazes back to the palm tree lined beach. It stretches for miles. A white strip of sandy paradise in contrast with the deep blue sky.

Rachel flips happily onto her back and lets herself float, her arms out at her sides, her ears beneath the surface of the water. It’s an almost ethereal experience. Total and utter relaxation. She just lets herself float around with the current, her eyes closed.

Suddenly her foot touches something and she snaps her eyes open. She realises that she has bumped into Isabel who is doing exactly the same thing. They laugh at each other, realising that they had attracted the attention of the lifeguard who is on his feet, looking through his binoculars from his wooden lookout tower! Rachel sees that they had also drifted dangerously close to the speed boat lane, marked out by red buoys. Feeling embarrassed, they wave to show that they’re fine and begin to swim back towards their towels.

Isabel tries not to swallow mouthfuls of sea water, laughing at the hilarious images of a crowd gathering on the beach, with Baywatch lifeguards running out towards them into the waves, clutching their red rescue cans.

‘We could have been ploughed down by a speedboat!’ splutters Rachel, ‘I know you’d like me to stay longer but not in the local hospital in traction surely?!!’

They both swim further towards the shore and when they can finally touch the bottom with their feet, they stop and erupt into laughter. ‘Best not to tell my mum and dad about this, they’ll never let me stay! They’d be worried to death about me doing something stupid!’ says Isabel coughing, her hand on her chest.

Duncan and Louise arrive on the terrace of the restaurant at three o’clock prompt. Isabel waves over at her dad as they slip their beach dresses over their bikinis, gather their valuables, but leave their towels on their sunbeds.

‘Darling, what a lovely spot,’ says Louise, kissing both girls on their cheeks, ‘your father has chosen the table over there in the corner,’ she indicates with her sunglasses in her hand.

Duncan takes much pleasure in ordering for everyone in Spanish and, as bread rolls and a collection of condiments are delivered to the table, they all sit back and relax. Duncan proudly shows the girls how best to enjoy their bread; Spanish-style. ‘You’ll notice that there isn’t any butter on the table girls,’ he smiles, acting like a magician about to show them an impressive trick. ‘Now, rip off a piece of bread, like this,’ he demonstrates, ‘make a little hollow with your thumb and then the fun part!’ he chuckles to himself as he picks up a glass decanter. ‘Pour in some delicious extra virgin olive oil... a little bit of salt... and hmmm,’ he pops it into his mouth, ‘perfect!!’

Everybody repeats his instructions and soon they are all mopping their side plates with the left over crusty bread.

‘That’s sooo much better than butter,’ says Rachel, licking her fingers.

‘And healthier too!’ adds Duncan, sounding like an advert for Mediterranean Living.

They all order small beers or “
cañas”
as Duncan tells them they are called. They had all had enough champagne at the party last night.

Rachel is really impressed as their table is soon filled with plates of food to share. A large, mixed salad, chunks of breaded fish, whole prawns, potatoes with onions and peppers, and battered rings of squid which Rachel isn’t keen on trying at first.

‘Wow, this is all so delicious. The squid is nice, actually, I’m glad you made me try it Duncan!’ she smiles, peeling a massive prawn.

Isabel is beginning to think that she may have escaped an interrogation about last night, but feels her palms begin to sweat as Louise asks the question she had been dreading. ‘So how did you and Marcos get on last night?’

Isabel purposely fills her mouth with a large piece of fish, chewing slowly, waving her fork around, giving herself time to think of an appropriate response. Even Rachel can’t help her with this one!

‘Yes, really well. It’s obviously been a very long time so we’ve both changed a lot. He seems really nice...’ she answers, vaguely.

‘We saw you met his fiancée. What did you think of her? I thought it was nice of her to go over and introduce herself. Very pretty girl,’ her mum continues, taking a sip of lager, ‘although a bit excitable towards the end of the evening!’ she adds, glancing over at her husband as he clears his throat and wipes his mouth with a napkin, thinking back to the champagne soaked dresses.

‘Hmmmm, yes she’s not at all what I expected. Very confident and, yes... I agree, very pretty,’ Isabel says lightly. ‘We had a great time, didn’t we Rach?’ she turns quickly to her friend taking a long swig of lager, hoping that her thoughts weren’t as transparent as they seemed to her.

‘Oh we did! The house is amazing, and the grounds! The buffet was to die for as well,’ she closes her eyes, remembering the salmon, ‘mmmm, delicious. Did either of you try the Tiramisu?!’

Thank goodness for Rachel! The conversation takes a turn towards Spanish cuisine and the dishes that the different regions of Spain are renowned for. Luckily her father could talk for hours on this topic, so an interrogation about Marcos and the “Witch Queen” is averted.

L
eanne has showered and is fastening her earrings as Marcos walks into the bedroom. All evidence of the woman she had been the night before seems to have evaporated. She is wearing a pretty, short sleeved dress with a thin belt and flat white sandals. The image of pure, innocent beauty. She looks up at him as he enters the room and begins to run a hairbrush slowly through her recently dried hair. The long strokes have a calming effect on them both, as they stand and look at each other, wondering who is going to speak first.

‘My parents are seemingly oblivious to your behaviour at the pool’ says Marcos in a slow serious voice, ‘lucky for you,’ he adds.

His monotone voice scares her. She imagined that he would come in and see her there, dressed and looking pretty and that he would just take her in his arms and forgive her. This was going to be harder than she thought. It was going to take more than a nice outfit and a flick of her blonde hair to win him over this time.

‘Sorry,’ she whispers, ‘can you forgive me? I think that someone may have put something in my drink,’ she adds innocently.

‘Leanne, you were drunk by nine o’clock! You and your friends had your own little private party set up on the sofa’s. Do you not remember dismissing me in front of your friends? You all just laughed and refilled your glasses! I had to make excuses to our guests for you not being there to greet them with me. It was supposed to be
our
engagement party, Leanne.’

Leanne hangs her head, continuing to brush the ends of her hair as he stands over her, not daring to look him in the eye. She decides that the submissive girlfriend is the way to play it for a few hours until she figures things out in her own head. She stares at her toes and wishes to god that she hadn’t invited her friends from the hotel last night. She should have known that it was a bad combination. She has vague memories of stripping off in front of someone. She stops brushing for a moment as she desperately tries to remember who it was.
How drunk was she for god’s sake?

Relief floods through her as she can clearly remember removing Marcos’s shirt and then her own dress.
Oh, thank goodness!
she thinks... and then there is someone else in her peripheral vision.
Who was that??
She wants to ask Marcos but she is not that stupid.
What if David had gate-crashed? Was he there? Shit!
She meets Marcos’s stare to gauge just how much he knows.

‘And your little striptease, do you remember that??’ Leanne nods slowly. ‘Very classy. I’m sure your mum and dad would have been very proud had they witnessed
that
!’ he spits. ‘I’m sorry Leanne but I’m going to need a few days away from you, to think things through. I’m going back up to my house now. My parents have gone out so you won’t have to face them on the way out,’ he adds, and turns his back, ready to leave, ‘oh, and you may want this.’

Leanne looks up and watches as he throws her stained white dress onto the bed beside her.

‘I’ll contact you when I’m ready,’ Marcos says, in a business-like voice as he closes the door behind him.

Leanne is in shock. She didn’t expect such a strong reaction. She can usually wrap him around her little finger. She realises that she has gone way too far this time.

Suddenly she sits up straight and her back stiffens. Now she remembers the other observer! It wasn’t David. Worse than that... much worse! It was that little dark-haired strumpet, what was her name?
Isabel
.

Leanne has never felt so insecure in her life. At school she always had her choice of the best looking boys. She would pick them up and then drop them like toys when she had had enough of them. It is suddenly dawning on her that this is a different game altogether. She has competition and realises that if she wants to keep her man, then she is going to have to work hard at it. That will mean, of course, giving up David and her party nights out with the girls.