Waves of Betrayal (The Isabel Marsh Trilogy Book 1) (7 page)

Isabel smiles, shaking her head in appreciation of her friend’s efforts to cheer her up and, grabbing the bottle of Cava and two plastic champagne glasses, she joins her in the attempt to get the Jacuzzi working!

‘Lights! We have lights!’ screams Rachel, ‘oooohhh all sorts of lights’ as she presses the buttons. ‘Moody lighting, romantic lighting, flashing lighting... ooohh and coloured disco lighting. Get your iPod, Iz!’

As Isabel gets the beach towels and sets up her iPod in its docking station, Rachel settles herself on a corner seat and selects the bubble speed.

‘
Señorita?
’ gestures Isabel, as she steps into the tub opposite Rachel, handing her a fizzing glass of cava to the beats of her favourite R&B album.

After a good night’s sleep, waking late, as the blinds block out all sunlight, Isabel is feeling positive and excited. She slips on her flip flops by the side of the bed and makes her way to the bathroom. She can hear faint snoring coming from Rachel’s room. She locks the door quietly and opens the little square window as she cleans her teeth. The sky is an almost impossibly deep, clear blue again. She watches a single puff of white cloud floating around for a few seconds and then seems to completely evaporate. She takes her watch out of her washbag, ‘11.30 a.m.? We must have really needed our sleep,’ she mumbles to herself.

After a good hot powerful shower, she wraps herself in a big, white fluffy bath towel and shuffles back in her flip-flops to her room. Having not unpacked the evening before, she rummages around in her suitcase for her new Roxy bikini. She also grabs a casual turquoise beach dress with little sequins around the neckline and a beaded belt. She’s about to go downstairs to prepare Rachel breakfast in bed, when she hears loud discordant singing in the shower! ‘She’s up!!’

‘Continental this morning,
amiga,
’ says Isabel as she leads her friend out to the little ground floor patio where she has laid out the table and chairs in the semi-shade. Croissants, butter, jam, yoghurts, coffee and freshly-squeezed orange juice!’

‘Yummy, thanks! I can’t believe how late we slept! Must be those blinds. It’s like a cave in my room! So what’s the plan today?’ asks Rachel, slurping tea and ripping off a piece of warm croissant. She’s on overdrive today!

‘Well, I’m not a fan of itineraries on holiday,’ answers Isabel, also itching to get out of the house, ‘but I reckon: lilos, sunbeds, swimming, few cocktails...’

Just two minutes’ walk from the house they find a kiosk selling everything from cold drinks to inflatables. They buy a big bag of crisps, a large bottle of cold water, and a lilo each and head for the sand. They choose a bar with slightly nicer looking beds with white mattresses and the mellow beats of Deep House music coming from inside. Hovering beside their chosen beds, a happy shirtless man in flip-flops, sporting the most incredibly dark, even tan they had ever seen, saunters over to them and invites them to sit. He brings them a little table, to put their drinks on, and informs them that they can order anything from the bar menu and he will bring it out to them... right here to the beds, wow!! The two friends try to hide their “Brits Abroad” excitement from the man who obviously spends most days of his life on the beach.

‘
Puedo... el menú, por favor,
’ asks Isabel in her broken, but understandable, Spanish.

They order a large tropical salad between them, a plate of small, fried fish called “
boquerones”,
and two large tumblers of
“tinto de verano”
. The waiter explains that this is red wine mixed with a kind of sweet fizzy water. Lighter than wine, seeing that neither of them fancies passing out drunk in the sun. Just imagine waking up in a world of painful sunburn. Or worse, having to cover-up for the rest of the week!

The mattresses on the loungers are so thick and comfortable that Rachel actually does nod off for a while and Isabel has to wake her and move her under the parasol.

‘Oh no, was I snoring?!’

‘No, Rach... but you were dribbling a bit, though,’ she teases, laughing at Rachel’s mortified expression.

‘I went for a dip. The water is so gorgeous. You should try it,’ says Isabel wringing out her wet hair, ‘It might wake you up a bit. Here, take your lilo’ she says, pulling the bright pink inflatable from between the beds.

‘Okidoki, I trust you!’ says Rachel, as she swings her legs off the bed into a sitting position, feeling around for her flip flops with her feet.

Isabel smiles as her friend arranges her bikini bottoms for maximum coverage and her top for maximum exposure! The effect is impressive. Without any attempt of subtlety, Mr Perfect Tan whistles and stares openly at her ample chest, zooming-in on his target as he bends down to collect the glasses from their table.

‘Just think of Stephen and keep on walking,’ warns Isabel, as she flips onto her front and watches Rachel wade out to waist depth with one hand on her lilo, mouthing all sorts of expletives as the cold waves hit her back. Isabel laughs and is about to close her eyes when she hears her mobile ringing from deep within her beach bag. She sits up, trying not to put her feet in the burning sand and then flops back down again with the phone to her ear.

‘Mum! Oh it’s just gorgeous here! Is everything alright at home?’ she asks, closing her eyes against the glare of the sun.

‘Oh yes, everything’s fine. We’ve had a few visits from “you know who”, begging to see you but we sent him packing of course.’

Isabel opens her eyes and pulls her knees into her chest.

‘He was crying last night, your dad said. Shame, but it’s also good to see that he realises what a stupid mistake he made letting you go, love. He’s been banging on Rachel’s door too trying to find out where you are.’

Louise hears her daughter’s sudden ragged intake of breath. ‘Listen love, I didn’t mean to upset you. He doesn’t know that you are in Spain and it’s better that it stays that way. Don’t start getting all forgiving and sentimental. If he’s done it once, he’ll do it again. He’s lost your trust and we’re all so lucky that you are still alive, remember that.’ Louise sighs heavily. ‘Are you still there, darling?’

Isabel is still imagining Paul pleading with her parents, repenting, and she knows that it’s probably wrong but she just wants to take him in her arms and forgive him. Surely everyone deserves a second chance?

‘Iz, are you there?’

‘Yes, yes, sorry mum. Phone line isn’t that clear. What were you going to say?’

‘Well, some
good
news actually. We had an invitation, well your father did really, from his old friend and fellow lecturer. You may remember his son, Marcos? He gave you lessons oh, years and years ago,’ Louise says casually.

‘Marcos?’ Isabel repeats.
Do I remember him? Ha!

‘Yes, you took a bit of a shine to him, if I remember rightly! Anyway, you were both only young, I doubt you’d even remember what he looked like?’

‘Hmmmm, not really,’ Isabel lies, holding the phone against her shoulder and pulling threads out of the bandage around her healing fingers.

‘Well, your father and I are coming to Málaga in a few days. His family and friends are having a party for him. He’s just got engaged to an English girl out there.’ Isabel suddenly feels stupid, immature and for some inexplicable reason, on the verge of tears again.

‘We thought we’d pick you and Rachel up and take you along? I’m sure they’d love to see you. I’m sure that two extra guests won’t make a difference. It’s a pool party and barbecue at his parent’s villa in the mountains near Málaga,’ Louise continues, unaware of her daughters’ discomfort.

‘What the hell happened to
you
?’ asks Rachel, concerned, rubbing her hair with her beach towel and lowering herself onto the edge of Isabel’s lounger, ‘Iz??’

‘Oh Rach,’ sniffs Isabel, ‘I don’t know where to start! How can so much happen in just fifteen minutes! I was having so much fun and then my bloody mum phones and my whole world is turned upside down again...! Sorry to be so melodramatic,’ she adds miserably, thumping the mattress and examining her pink toenail polish as if all the answers to her happiness lay somewhere on her feet.

‘Rach, there’s a bar just up there with tall benches and tables. We can kick off our flip-flops in the shade and swing our legs above the sand... and have a few drinks?!!’ says Isabel, with a hint of desperation and sadness in her voice.

‘Looks like you need one or two! Come on let’s pay and move on, eh?’

C
raig and Paul lounge on his big white leather sofa’s in his top floor apartment in Harbury, watching Man United vs Liverpool on a wide screen TV.

‘Another beer mate?’ asks Craig as he jumps up energetically from the sofa towards the huge, white and chrome open-plan kitchen with views over the immaculate communal gardens.

‘I’ll have one if you are’ says Paul, staring at his mobile.

‘Mate, she’ll text you when she’s ready. It’s like you said, there’s no point in hassling her. She’s pretty pissed-off with you right now and by the sound of things, she was mighty messed up in that accident.’

‘I know. You’re right!’ Paul exhales, sitting up on the sofa with renewed confidence and cracking open the can of lager that he takes from his friend. ‘I’ll play the waiting game, if it means I have a chance of getting her back.’

‘Whooo you’ve got it bad!’ laughs Craig, as he settles back onto his sofa with a sarcastic smile on his face. ‘Should have kept your dick in your pants if you wanted to keep a girl like Izzy. She’s class, man.’

‘I know, I know. I don’t need anyone to remind me! I am a total wanker and do not deserve her...’ mutters Paul, taking a long swig from his can.

‘Bet she was a good shag though, eh?’ he winks, raising his beer, saluting his friend. ‘Fine little figure of a girl that Jules. The only reason I never gave it a go was because I thought that bloke she lives with was her fella!’ he laughs loudly.

‘I’m not proud of what I did Craig. In fact, it has been the most stupid, biggest mistake of my life so far.’ He shakes his head, ‘but don’t you worry, I won’t cramp your style for too long mate, you’ll see! I’ll be back at the cottage with my girl... as it should be.’

Paul suddenly stands up, grabs his car keys from the coffee table and heads for the door. ‘Won’t be long. Just popping out for a bit. Need me to pick anything up?’

‘No worries. Just as long as you fetch me another beer from the fridge if I can’t make it over there by the time you’re back!’ he laughs as Paul heads out of the flat.

He drives the fifteen-minute drive over to Isabel’s parents’ house with renewed determination. ‘I need to see her,’ he says to himself. ‘Maybe then I can make her understand how much I need her?’

Louise opens the door with the chain still on as she had seen Paul’s red car pull up on to their drive. She doesn’t even give him a chance to speak. He is taken aback by the fire in the voice of this mild mannered woman whom he thought he knew so well.

‘I suggest you leave, Paul. We have nothing to say to you. Isabel is not here so there’s no point in trying to push your way into the house. Just leave us alone!’

‘Louise, please, you don’t understand! I love Isabel so much, I want to marry her. I know what I did was a terrible, terrible thing, but we love each other. I just need a chance to talk to her.
Please
...’ he begs, raising his voice and beating his fist against the door frame in frustration.

Louise steps back from the door as Duncan appears behind her and tells her to go back inside.

‘Duncan, you’ll understand. You know how much I love your daughter? I just need to speak to her. She’ll forgive me, I know she will. We are meant to be together. I wouldn’t be here making a total fool of myself, right here on your doorstep, if I didn’t love her so desperately...’ he leans his head forward against the door, looking as if he may crumple to his knees, tears flowing freely down his cheeks now.

‘Paul I’m sorry lad, but I’m afraid that you must understand how badly you have betrayed Isabel,
all of us
. She could have been killed. You do realise that? Leave her alone. Give her time to recover.’

‘But where is she?’ he sobs.

‘Away, Paul. We’re not going to tell you where but she’ll be back when she’s ready, ok? That’s all you need to know. Take the back lanes and drive carefully son, I can smell beer on your breath. If the police stop you, you’ll lose your license on top of everything else, now pull yourself together.’

Duncan shuts the door calmly but firmly in Paul’s face and heads back into the house to help Louise with the packing.

I
sabel and Rachel wander along the promenade and stop outside the bar that Isabel had seen. It’s a dark wooden building with folding glass windows on the bottom deck and a large rectangular bar in the centre, surrounded by black tables set out for lunch with white, linen napkins and wine glasses. They walk up the ramp, smiling at the barmen as they welcome them in English. ‘Is it that obvious?!’ whispers Rachel.

Isabel leads the way up a few steps to the upper deck and swings her legs over the padded bench so that she is facing out towards the sea with her legs dangling above the sand. Rachel removes her flip flops and joins her, leaning her elbows on the narrow shelf in front of them, serving as a table. ‘This is great,’ she says.

The blinds are all drawn back so that it is totally open to the sea breeze and it offers the perfect spot to perch and people-watch. The waiters are all dressed in fitted white shorts and black polo shirts and they effortlessly deliver huge silver trays, laden with drinks, to the tables below.

‘Hello ladies, what can I get you?’ asks the Spanish waiter in perfect English. It is obvious from Rachel’s hesitation and flushed cheeks that his good looks and toned, tanned arms have not gone un-noticed!

‘Two mojitos please,’ smiles Isabel, as Rachel continues to stare.

‘Rach!!’ whispers Isabel, nearly pushing her friend off the bench, ‘could you possibly have made that any more obvious??!’

They both laugh as Rachel regains her balance and promises to behave like the happily engaged wife-to-be that she is!