Divided Loyalties (23 page)

Bobby read Carrie’s email and felt a flash of guilt. He’d been waiting for Carrie to bring him to book yet again about not seeing his new niece. She was right. She and Dan had done
nothing to offend him. They had been very decent to him. He was going to have to sort something out about seeing them. But how could he possibly go home and visit them and be in the same village as
his father and not see him? The odds of bumping into him on the street were practically a certainty. That would be highly awkward. If he didn’t visit it would be noted and that would be the
subject of gossip and speculation. Noel would hate that. His standing in the community was very important to him, much more important to him than his son was. Bobby couldn’t help the
bitterness he felt; whoever said time healed didn’t know what the hell they were talking about.

How did he deal with this? he wondered tiredly. He was bushed. It had been a busy shift. One of the chambermaids had fallen over her bucket and broken her arm. A guest had locked the keys of her
car in the boot and got highly agitated when he’d suggested that she call her husband to come to the hotel with the spares. She was obviously having an affair, not that he cared if she was
shagging the whole of London, but he and the porter had spent twenty-five minutes with a coat hanger trying to break into the car. He should have stayed a receptionist instead of working his way up
to assistant manager, he thought glumly as he stretched out on the sofa and flicked through the channels to see whether there was anything to take his mind off his family problems.

An episode of
Frasier
had just started and he tried to immerse himself in it but failed. He knew he should ring Carrie but he just couldn’t bring himself to. How did he answer
that email? It was clear his sister was way down in the dumps. How typical of Noel to lay a guilt trip on her. Guilt trips were his father’s speciality.

He got up and went to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of Bud and opened it. He took a long draught and stood staring out the window. It was spitting rain, the drops hitting the pavement
relentlessly. A couple hurried by hand in hand, collars pulled up against the rain, laughing at each other, happy. He looked at them enviously. He’d like to be part of a couple. He had loads
of friends and acquaintances and he’d had several flings, but so far he hadn’t met someone to settle down with.

The lights in the windows of the highrise flats shone yellows and pinks and blues and greens. So many people living in such a small area. Families, singles, separated, divorced, hetero, gay, bi.
That was what he loved about London. Here he was as normal as anyone else. In Whiteshells Bay he was very much the odd one out. And it was a horrible feeling. Maybe Carrie, Dan and the kids could
come to London for a weekend. He’d get a good rate for them in the hotel; there wouldn’t be enough room for them all in the flat. Suddenly he felt lonely for all of them. For Davey and
his great infectious laugh, for Olivia and her sense of high drama, for Chloe. How could he ever forget Chloe singing ‘BimBamBom’ and lifting him out of himself when he’d been
near to crying that Christmas morning at the grave? She was five now. Starting school in September. Carrie was right. He
was
being a fool. These beautiful darlings were his kith and kin.
He’d want to make an effort or he’d end up a lonely old geezer . . . just like his dad.

Shauna peeled and diced a cucumber, added a finely chopped clove of garlic, chopped dried mint to a bowl of natural yoghurt and flavoured it with salt before giving it a good
stir. It would be a tasty accompaniment to the couscous and chicken dish she was bringing to the picnic on the island. She had a platter of smoked salmon and cream cheese wraps already prepared and
Filomena was making potato salad. Greg was in the shower, whistling. He was in great form and it was rubbing off on the household.

She felt like whistling herself. She smiled. They had made love last night and it was as if all the tension that had simmered on and off between them for such a long time had faded away. For the
first time in ages she felt comfortable in her marriage again. It was a great feeling. Like when she was first married and Greg had bent over backwards to make her happy. Before he’d become
distracted and absorbed in work and climbing the career ladder. He’d become so competitive over the years it disturbed her. When she’d challenged him on it he’d told her that she
didn’t complain about the lifestyle his competitiveness gave her. He had a point, she’d admitted. She’d got used to a life of relative luxury. She’d got used very quickly to
having her own credit card, an au pair, membership of an exclusive beach club and a very social, affluent lifestyle. But although she enjoyed it hugely it didn’t fill the need and want deep
inside her.

Last night had been different. Greg had made her feel happy again, especially when he’d apologized for not accepting that her biological clock was ticking fast. At last, he’d
acknowledged her need. That was a big step for them as a couple. Now they were working as a partnership again and she’d even decided as a gesture of goodwill that if Jenna would take Chloe
with Carly in their boat, she’d endure Pierre’s speedboat nightmare.

‘Chloe,’ she called. Her daughter was watching a Barney video. Personally, Shauna couldn’t stand the great purple dollop of saccharine and had an irrational wish to kick him
hard in the goolies, but Chloe lapped it up.

‘Mom, I’m busy,’ her daughter called back.

‘I want to ask you something. Quick, it’s exciting.’

Chloe padded into the kitchen. She looked adorable in her pink frilly top and matching trousers, but she wouldn’t get much more wear out of them, Shauna noted. She was getting big, and
filling out. Shauna must warn Filomena about giving her too many treats.

‘What do you want to ask me?’ Her daughter gazed at her with her big blue eyes.

‘Would you like to go with Carly in her boat?’

‘
Yessss!
Can I, Mom? Carly is my very best friend.’

Shauna smiled at her. ‘I know, that’s why I asked. Would you like her to have a sleepover?’

‘Oh, Mom, I love you. You’re my best Mom.’ Chloe launched herself at her. Shauna hugged her tightly.

‘In a few minutes we’ll be getting ready to go. I want you to get your sunscreen for Filomena, OK.’

‘OK.’ Her daughter made a face. She still hated having her sunscreen put on. Shauna made a face back.

‘I know it’s a nuisance but we don’t want to get sunburnt, sure we don’t.’

‘No, Mom.’

‘And don’t forget your sunglasses and hat.’

Chloe gave an exasperated sigh. ‘I won’t, Mom. You don’t have to keep telling me.’

‘Sorry,’ murmured Shauna, understanding completely her daughter’s irritation. She was growing up fast and developing a most determined and stubborn little personality. It was
fascinating to watch.

Three-quarters of an hour later they were driving past the clock tower along the Corniche road on their way to the marina in the Intercontinental Hotel. Shauna had phoned Jenna and asked if
Chloe could travel with them.

‘Great idea; they’ll have each other for company. Are you sure you won’t come with us?’ her friend had asked.

‘Believe me, I’d love to go with you. But Greg thought it would be rude, seeing as Pierre issued a personal invite.’

‘He fancies you,’ teased Jenna.

‘Ugh! You wash your mouth out. That greasy little toad. Did you ever see anything like the comb-over? How does Chantal put up with him?’

‘She’s a real cold fish. That’s probably why he’s the way he is, because he doesn’t get anything from her,’ Jenna remarked sagely.

‘Well let them get over themselves. I’ll do as little “polite conversation” as I absolutely have to,’ Shauna said dryly.

‘Me too,’ Jenna agreed. ‘Thank God we have the children, we can use them as an excuse to withdraw and be on our own for a while. See you soon.’

The Williamses were already at Kareem’s boat, loading up windbreaks and picnic table and chairs, when Greg, Shauna and Chloe clattered along the wooden pontoon. Pierre waved expansively
from his speedboat a few berths away. ‘
Bonjour, Shauna
. You are coming with us, yes?’ he called. His wife, Chantal, sat stony-faced in the stern, giving the slightest wave of
recognition.

‘Yes, Pierre. Chloe is going with Jenna,’ Shauna called back.

‘Excellent. Jenna, come have some champagne before you set off,’ he ordered.

‘Oh
noooo
,’ Jenna groaned quietly as she waved and nodded acquiescence.

Five minutes later, when they had packed away the picnic and beach gear, the two girls strolled over to the MD’s boat, followed by Greg, leaving the children with Brett.

‘My favourite ladies.’ Pierre bowed with exaggerated Gallic charm, kissing each of their hands. ‘
Enchanté
.’

Another couple, Monique and Rashid al Hamade, were already sipping their champagne, seated beside Chantal.

‘Hello, Chantal.’ Shauna greeted the French woman politely with a kiss on each cheek.

‘Shauna, very nice to see you. You look
très chic
.’ She gave a small tight smile, her bright, beady eyes going over Shauna from head to toe. Shauna was wearing an
elegant green sundress with a matching chiffon jacket to cover her arms. If she had just been going with Jenna and Brett she would have worn her shorts and a top, but once Pierre and Chantal were
involved the dress code notched up a gear or two. Chantal herself was wearing white linen pants and a red silk blouse. A floppy white sun hat was draped with a red scarf that matched the colour of
her sandals and bag
precisely
. She looked the height of French chic.

Pierre, on the other hand, looked like a little barrel in his brightly coloured Hawaiian shirt and white chinos. His lank, dyed black hair blew all over the place in the fresh breeze that blew
in off the sea.

‘Breezy day for a picnic,’ Shauna murmured, taking the flute of champagne that he handed her.

‘
Mais non
, it will be wonderful. Refreshing after the humidity of last week. Greg,
mon ami
, how goes it?’ He shook hands with Greg and motioned him to the bow of
the boat. ‘You will drive this beauty when we leave the marina.
Oui?
’

Greg’s eyes gleamed with anticipation. ‘I’d love to, Pierre. Just say the word.’ He turned to Chantal. ‘I’ll drive carefully,’ he said smoothly, giving
her a charming smile. She gave a little simper. She liked Greg, and he knew how to play up to her, Shauna thought in amusement as she sat down beside the fourth woman on the boat.

‘Monique, how are you?’ She smiled at the tall, elegant Frenchwoman.

‘Very well. And you?’ The glamorous brunette smiled warmly. Her husband, Rashid, worked as a financial consultant within the company. Shauna liked him, a warm, friendly Lebanese man;
he had shown wonderful Arabic hospitality to her and Greg since they’d come to live in the Emirate. A party in Monique and Rashid’s villa was always something to look forward to.

‘You didn’t bring Nadia and Rafik?’ Jenna joined them.

‘Hala Mattar was taking her two boys to Al Ain zoo and staying overnight with her friends so my two were invited and couldn’t wait to go. Rashid and I are having a day and night all
to ourselves. Bliss.’ She smiled at her tall, good-looking husband, who always reminded Shauna of Tom Selleck with his black bushy moustache.

‘We should go,’ decreed Chantal. ‘Time is passing.’

It was about a fifty-minute trip to the islands and by the time everything was set up and lunch served it would be well after noon. That wouldn’t leave them a lot of time to relax. It was
always safer to be back at the marina before it got dark.

Ten minutes later they were on their way. As soon as Pierre had eased his way out of the marina, past the palaces and boat yards, and was into the deep sea channels, he pushed forward on the
throttle, and for Shauna at least the pleasure went out of the trip as the powerful boat surged forward at high speed.

It was a windy day with whitecaps on the normally glassy sea. Spume and spray shot past them and the engine was so noisy she soon gave up trying to have a conversation with Chantal. The smell of
petrol fumes made her feel queasy and she glanced back longingly at Jenna and Brett’s boat, dawdling along far behind them.

The men were in the bow discussing the speed and manoeuvrability of the boat. They were in their element. Shauna was glad that Chloe wasn’t with them as they bounced up and down. Pierre
hadn’t offered anyone one of the lifejackets that were stowed under the seat they were sitting on, and Shauna couldn’t help feeling nervous as they rattled along. It was a relief
fifteen minutes later when their host was forced to slow to a stop to show his papers to one of the police launches that patrolled the coast.

The sun was blazing high in a dazzling sapphire sky and the glitter on the water was intense. Shauna was glad of her Ray-Bans. Chantal had a lovely pair of Prada sunglasses that gave her a very
Jackie O look. She wore her sunglasses as an accessory and had dozens of pairs. She had a knack for matching the perfect pair with every outfit.

Shauna watched as Pierre motioned Greg to take the wheel. Her husband, dressed in a pale green short-sleeved shirt and khaki shorts, looked tanned and impressive as he stood at the wheel of the
powerful boat, his black hair raffishly tousled in the breeze. He had spoken of buying a boat for them. Shauna wasn’t pushed either way. Going to the islands for picnics was nearly more
trouble than it was worth by the time everything was packed into the car, unpacked into the boat, unpacked from the boat at the island and then the whole palaver repeated going home. Picnic tables,
chairs, windbreaks, snorkels, ice coolers. The list was endless. Having a boat was nice for cruising slowly along the coastline, particularly when the sun was setting. She’d like that. But if
Greg was going to do a Pierre on it, he was on his own, she thought grimly as they bounced hard over a choppy wave. She watched him chatting easily to Pierre and Rashid. He was completely at ease.
The life and soul of the party. Didn’t he ever weary of it? The constant ‘performing’? She did, but Greg seemed to thrive on it.