Hot Basque: A French Summer Novel 2 (17 page)

Annabel Courtenay listened to the message from her sister and tossed the phone on the table with a shrug of contempt.

‘You’re his Mum!’

His Mum! There was no way Joshua was going to call her ‘Mum’ when he started to speak, she’d already decided that Mummy was acceptable, Mama too, maybe even Annabel, there were quite a few couples she knew who educated their children to address their parents by their first names right from the word go.

Julian had phoned her from the airport. He’d phoned her this morning as well, waking her up, a fact that she had informed him of in no uncertain terms. She supposed he’d be ringing again, when they got to the Villa. He was obviously going to be checking up on her regularly, what a bore, she’d have to invent all sorts of excuses, she didn’t want him flying over here unexpectedly just because he couldn’t get hold of her and started to panic. That would really put the cat among the proverbial pigeons.

She poured herself a drink, walked over to the wall of windows that ran the length of the penthouse sitting room and gazed out. The panoramic views took in the Canary Wharf cluster of skyscrapers including One Canada Square with its distinctive pyramid-shaped roof. Beyond was the curve of the mighty river, with, upstream, the striking silhouette of the Gherkin, its myriad diamond-shaped panes of glass glittering in the sun.

It was lovely weather, just right for romance. And her Don Juan would be arriving soon, he had a flight out of Frankfurt this afternoon. ‘Watch out for jealous husbands at the airport,’ she’d told him, and he’d given that throaty laugh of his and pulled her close. My God, he was sexy.

She frowned. She hadn’t expected to get hooked quite so badly, it wasn’t her style. After all, she’d been having sexual encounters for years, she was hardly a novice, and although she enjoyed herself in bed she had always been slightly surprised, listening to her girl friends, at just how thoroughly some of them could be bitten by the sex thing. Never, ever, would she allow herself to become a slave to love. Or to sex. At least that’s what she’d told herself.

But that had been before Claudio.

She’d felt a definite thrill at their first meeting, but nothing stronger than she’d experienced with other men. And of course there’d also been the thrill of the chase, so it was hard to sort out how much the turn-on was physical, how much psychological.

And then, their first assignation. She laughed to herself, poured another drink. That’s what it had been, an assignation . The first time since her marriage that she’d been unfaithful. That in itself had been quite a kick. But the excitement had been mounting beforehand, they’d been working up to it, secret looks and touches when the group were out for a meal together, that extra frisson as they kissed hello and goodbye, met each other’s eyes.

And then that time at the opera. They’d been mingling with the crowd during the interval and he’d suddenly seized her arm and pulled her into a narrow corridor, draped with heavy curtains. The sheer sexual jolt as his mouth met hers, hard, he had shoved her against the wall, pressed himself against her, and pulled down her panties. God she had never felt such a stab of pure lust, she could almost have let him take her there and then with people standing less than a foot away. He’d thrust his fingers inside her, then with his free hand bared one of her breasts and bitten her nipple. It was over in a couple of seconds, he released her, turned abruptly and disappeared through the curtains leaving her trembling and gasping, heart beating like a drum, trying to rearrange her clothing.

He’d phoned her the next day, they arranged to meet at a hotel near the station. A modern anonymous place with hundreds of rooms where comings and goings were commonplace and nobody took any notice as she’d slipped through the lobby and pressed the button for the lift.

She’d knocked on the door and he’d opened it, stood there for a moment, then dragged her inside like a wolf with a deer. He was rough, Claudio, he liked it rough, and though it was her first experience of that kind of sex she found herself being swept away, crushed, battered, taken to heights she’d never known, used, manipulated like a sex toy invented purely for his pleasure. There were times when she’d begged him to stop but he ignored her and pushed her further, commanding and demanding until she broke through the barrier and reached the same plane of ecstasy as he did, falling together afterwards like stones on the bed with its smeared and tangled sheets.

At their first meeting he’d given her a disposable phone with a pre-programmed number. He’d told her if she ever told Julian, he’d deny it, and it would be over between them. He enjoyed the risk, but wanted no complications. She’d said she understood. She’d had to be careful at home, undressing in the bathroom, using makeup to disguise some of the marks he put on her. But Julian didn’t notice, these days he was no longer the eager lover of their early days together, or even a year ago, when she became pregnant. Since the move to Frankfurt he’d been working hard, she had to admit that. And on one level she realised that it was vital to the future of his firm, and therefore important for her too. He was not just a workaholic because he was becoming obsessive, couldn’t switch off, or because wanted to escape from family life like some of the husbands she knew. Just the opposite, he was so besotted with the baby he’d willingly have spent more time at home. They never talked about the way things were between the two of them although he’d tried to bring up the subject once, just after the baby was born. But she couldn’t be bothered getting into all that analytical stuff, she was tired after her pregnancy, keen to get her figure back, and as for the sex, to be honest it had been the last thing on her mind.

But everything was different now, with Claudio. She shivered, thinking of him, and frowned once more. She now needed him, she realised, the same way some people needed drugs. She’d been careful not to get sucked up into all that, most of the wives did coke, plus different designer stuff. It had been quite hard to resist their cajoling ‘come on darling you must try it, it’s not dangerous you know.’ But she’d always held out, not sure why exactly, maybe because she was the kind of person who didn’t have strong physical compulsions. She enjoyed food, enjoyed a drink, enjoyed sex, but could easily pass on all of them. She wasn’t a real smoker, just lighting up when she was bored or on edge, or to strike a pose.

The things that drove her had always been more intellectual. She smiled. Nobody would ever call Annabel an intellectual, she knew that, but she was smart, and sharp, and had soon recognised what she wanted from life. Attention. Popularity. Recognition. Status. Prestige. And of course money, which gave her a means of achieving all those things. She sometimes wondered where it had all come from, whether she had inherited these traits from her mother. She looked exactly like her, everyone said so, and she could see it for herself in the photographs. But she had been two years old when her parents died in the accident. The only thing she could remember about her mother was that she loved her baby girl, that she was the centre of her universe, that she could always have whatever she wanted from Mummy.

Caroline, so people said, was more like her father. She’d inherited the brains of the family, Annabel the beauty. Although she had to admit her sister had undergone an amazing transformation the previous summer. Duckling to swan stuff. Annabel had hardly recognised her when she arrived at the Villa Julia. And it wasn’t just physical, Caroline had changed in other ways. After the breakup with Liam her sister had grown inward and reserved and Annabel had begun to think she was going to end up a spinster for the rest of her days, like Aunt Margaret and Birdie. And then, as if someone had waved a magic wand, she’d gone and reinvented herself, become a confident, assertive, sparkling creature who had actually managed to land herself a great catch. Edward Rayburn.

Annabel finished her drink in one swallow. She wouldn’t think about him. He’d let her down. Outwitted her even. She’d thought she knew exactly where they stood, but in the end he had made a fool out of her.

But that was the past, the page was turned, she had other things to think of now. She was due at Claudio’s hotel at eight this evening. Plenty of time to get ready, to take a long leisurely bath, to rub her body with the musky lotion that drove him mad, to lay out the underwear and the dress, to put on her makeup and do her hair.

She’d wear it up, tonight, they were going for dinner first, Claudio liked that, he liked a long build up with neither of them able to do more than look, to engage in stealthy caresses in the midst of a roomful of diners, to tease. Her legs were already quite tanned, she wouldn’t have to wear stockings, though he liked it when she wore stockings and suspenders; in fact basques, bustiers, Parisian corsets, he liked them all. But no, she decided suddenly, her eyes narrowing, she wouldn’t wear any underwear at all. That way in the restaurant he could let his eyes run over her, take his fill. He’d know immediately. She’d wear the blue dress, the one that matched her eyes. The one made of silk so he could see her nipples harden under the thin material, admire the way it clung to her buttocks like a second skin.

And afterwards she’d be able to spend a whole night with him, the first time they’d ever done that. They had a week, an entire week during which she could put her plan into action. Annabel needed Claudio. The desire to be with him was so intense it was almost over-whelming. But not completely. She still retained enough willpower to listen to her instinct, which told her that, for the relationship to continue, she now had to get Claudio as hooked on her as she was on him. A week in which, if she played her cards right, she could start to lay the foundations for something more permanent between them.

She went to pour herself another drink, then changed her mind; She would need her wits about her this week, if what she had in mind was to come about. All her wits and all her wiles. She would have to plan her campaign down to the very last detail.

Caroline had laid the tea things out on the terrace. She’d baked two cakes, one lemon, one chocolate. She had a goal. Julian had a sweet tooth and, she’d remarked to Edward, she was determined to put some flesh on his bones before he returned to Frankfurt.

Hearing his step she turned with a smile. He was coming out through the French windows, ushering the nanny in front of him. She noticed that he looked a little better than when he’d arrived, after a shower and a freshen-up.

‘Come and sit down, both of you.’

Nadia came forwards hesitantly. Her eyes widened as she saw the view, the pool, the gardens, the sea.

‘Sit next to me, Nadia, why don’t you?’

‘Thank you. It is so beautiful here.’

She sat down, looking rather uncomfortable. Caroline wondered how much she was part of the family in Frankfurt or if Annabel treated her like a sort of servant.

‘Julian, lemon cake? Chocolate cake? Both?’

‘Ah Caro, how well you know my weaknesses.’

A smile lifted his tired features as Caroline heaped his plate with two large slices.

‘Nadia?’

‘Thank you, I will take some lemon cake. It looks delicious.’

Edward was pouring tea, comfortable in his role as host.

‘Ready for an early start tomorrow, Courtenay? Got all your surfing kit?’

Julian, mouth full, nodded ‘yes’.

‘What about you Nadia, do you like to go swimming?’

‘Oh but I must take care of the baby.’

‘Sure, but you’re allowed some time off you know, isn’t she Jules?’

‘Absolutely, I told her that I want this to be as much of a holiday for her as possible, she works very hard.’

Caroline didn’t miss the faint blush that rose to Nadia’s cheeks, nor the look she gave Julian.

She was a quaint little thing, slightly old-fashioned in her badly-cut jeans and plain white shirt with the sleeves rolled down and buttoned at the wrist. No jewellery. Her hair was pulled tightly off her face, fastened with a brown elastic band, falling down her back straight and severe. If she wore it differently, Caroline thought, handing her the cake, she would be quite pretty, with her smooth skin, Slavonic features and slanted blue eyes. She wondered how old she was, maybe mid-twenties, though she looked younger.

‘Have you been to France before?’ Edward asked, turning a smile on her that would have unfrozen an ice-maiden, but Nadia just looked more uncomfortable than before, leaning over her tea cup with downcast eyes to reply.

‘No, this is the first time.’

‘You speak very good English Nadia.’

Nadia, looking as if she’d like to curl up and disappear into her teacup, murmured a faint ‘thank you.’

Caroline turned to Julian, deciding that the girl was probably shy, and that the last thing she wanted was to find herself the centre of attention.

‘So Jules, tell us all your news.’

Julian chatted about his job and his friend and colleague, Klaus. He was also taking German classes, he said, and was gradually getting the hang of it.

‘They give me an hour, twice a week, at work,’ he told them. ‘I did it at school, about a hundred years ago, but it’s coming back.’

Suddenly Nadia half-rose from her chair, her face alert.

The others heard it just afterwards, a frail cry from the open window on the first floor.

‘I will go, Julian. You stay and finish your tea.’

‘You sure, Nadia? Shout if you need anything. Bring him down so that Caroline and Edward can see how he’s grown.’

She nodded and hurried into the villa.

Caroline took the opportunity to slide another piece of chocolate cake on to Julian’s plate.

Edward gave a little cough.

‘And your fiancé, Caroline? Has he been forgotten in this cakefest? Left to lick up the crumbs, thrust aside like an old shoe? Or trout?’

Caroline and Julian laughed, and Julian said suddenly:

‘Of course, I haven’t seen you since the engagement Caro. So that’s the ring?’

He took the hand that Caroline was holding out to him, turned it this way and that so that the light caught the colour of the stone.

‘Good taste Rayburn. Very good taste. And congratulations, you’re a lucky man.’

‘I know, old buddy, believe me, I know. And if I didn’t, everyone keeps reminding me.’

The three of them looked at each other for a moment. Julian opened his mouth, about to say something, when Caroline, hearing footsteps, turned to the French windows.

‘There he is! Beautiful baby Joshua! Come to Auntie!’

She held out her arms and Nadia handed over the baby.

‘Hello, sweet boy, hello there! Did you have a good sleep?’

‘Oo-ar,’ gurgled Joshua with a sudden brilliant smile.

‘Oh!’ Caroline was thrilled. ‘Did you see that Edward? He smiled at me! And said hello!’

‘Even at six months he’s got the makings of a genius. He’ll be saying hello in French before he leaves, won’t you, young Joshua?’

Edward tickled the baby gently under his chin, eliciting more ‘oo-ars’ and some vigorous leg kicking.

Nadia had begun to clear the tea things.

‘No please Nadia, leave all that. Sit down, have another piece of cake. Remember, you’re on holiday.’

‘That’s right,’ said Julian, with a smile of thanks at Caroline. ‘Time for you to relax and enjoy yourself a bit, it’s not like–’

He bit back the words.

‘What about a dip in the pool, Nadia?’ Edward stood up. ‘We usually go in for a swim before dinner.’

Nadia looked at Julian.

‘Go on,’ he said softly, ‘go and change. I’ll just finish this piece of cake that has magically appeared on my empty plate.’

‘So,’ said Caroline, plucking up her courage as Nadia disappeared indoors. ‘How are things, really?’

Julian’s face changed. He put down his fork.

‘Honestly?’ He gave a mirthless laugh. ‘I don’t even know where to start.’

‘Have you spoken to her today?’ asked Caroline.

‘Briefly, this morning, then again to let her know we’d arrived safely. Not that she seemed very interested.’

‘She didn’t...did she say anything about what she was doing, her plans?’

‘No. I know she’s seeing a ton of people about the wedding.’

He stopped short.

‘The wedding. It’s a mockery. Even if there’s nothing going on, which I don’t believe for one moment, we’re both at the stage now where going off to Acapulco and swearing to love and cherish each other forever, it’s just–obscene.’

Caroline bent and kissed Joshua on top of his head. Her thoughts were whirling. She had never seen Julian like this. The previous year he had opened up to her about his anxieties but that was before everything, before the holiday in Biarritz, before Frankfurt. When he was still holding a candle for her sister, torn between the desire to give her everything she wanted and the necessity of the move to Germany, essential for his business to survive. Then later, when they were all here on holiday she had thought that their relationship must surely come to an end, her sister had behaved too badly for anything to be mended.

But she had underestimated the strength of Julian’s love, underestimated too the ability of Annabel to get what she wanted. And so the marriage had been officialised last August, they had moved to Germany and for almost a year Caroline had brushed her doubts under the carpet, too caught up in her own happiness, the plans for her own future.

She raised her head, looked at her brother-in-law. His face wore the bleak and bitter expression he’d had on arrival.

‘Maybe...’

He cut her off.

‘No Caroline. You’ve always been a real sweetheart, you’ve listened to my problems, given me advice and I thank you for being so understanding. But there comes a time when even the most imbecilic of lovers, and that’s what I’ve been, starts to see the light.’

Edward had remained silent throughout the exchange.

He had known all along, Caroline realised suddenly. He just hadn’t wanted to tell her exactly how bad it was, not wanting to spoil her happiness, not wanting to worry her when she’d been preparing for her exams. She got to her feet, carefully placed the baby in Edward’s arms and moved over to Julian.

‘I’m so, so sorry.’

She bent and hugged him tightly, shocked again at the sharpness of his bones.

He said nothing, immobile in her embrace. It was only when she stepped back that she saw the clenched jaw, the tear that was running down his cheek as he turned his head away. And then she felt her anger mount.

‘She’s a fool. She doesn’t realise it now, but one day, one day, trust me, Julian, she will. She’ll begin to understand exactly what she’s thrown away. And then–’ her hands curled into fists ‘–and then she’ll realise her life is just bitter ashes. She’ll have lost the best thing that ever happened to her, the very best.’

She didn’t hear Nadia come out on to the terrace until Edward spoke, his voice over-hearty.

‘Ah Nadia, Jules and I were just going up to get changed. Give us five minutes and we’ll teach you the rules of the famous Villa Julia water fight.’

He handed the baby back to Caroline, murmured ‘are you OK?’, then flung one arm round Julian’s rigid shoulders and shepherded him indoors.

Nadia gazed after them, her face set.

***

Jill had phoned to say that she’d be back late, and not to wait for her for dinner.

‘Has Julian arrived OK? And Joshua?’

Caroline gave her a quick run-down, then asked if she’d enjoyed her day out with Antoine.

‘Great. Well, some of it was a bit emotional, we went to Guernica...I’ll tell you all about it later. Oh Caro, that man, the more I get to know him, the more I–anyway, we’re heading back to his place, he’s going to fix us something to eat and then he’s going in to the restaurant to help his Mum and Dad close up.’

‘Right. So you’ll be seeing the famous Arantxa pulling-pad. I hope he’s dusted and polished specially for you.’

So, it had been emotional, thought Caroline, disconnecting. What was all that about? She was on tenterhooks to know more.

It was almost ten when they heard the sound of a horn in the street, the clang of the villa gates.

‘Antoine says to excuse him but he’ll see you tomorrow bright and early in your wet suit Eddie.’

Jill was calling out the words as she came round the side of the house and erupted on to the terrace. Her face was rosy, her red hair wild, and there was a huge smile on her face.

She came to a halt as she saw they were all still eating.

‘Sorry everyone, sorry, no don’t get up, I’ll just say hello to the new arrivals then I’ll go up and get changed and join you for a drink. If I’m invited!’

She was making her way round the table as she spoke, heading in Julian’s direction, holding out one hand.

‘Hello there! You must be Julian! Eddie’s best friend forever! Lovely to meet you!’

As Julian rose to his feet and took her hand she leaned in swiftly and planted a kiss on his cheek.

‘Hello Jill,
enchanté
as they say. This is Nadia.’

‘Please sit down, what a lump I am to interrupt everything.’

She leaned over with another kiss for Nadia who blushed and smiled.

‘So–’ she stood back expectantly ‘come on then, where’s the star of the show?’

‘You’re lucky. We were just going to take him up. Careful, don’t wake him.’

Caroline led Jill into the sitting room. They could hear muffled squeals and exclamations, then Jill rushed back outside and flung her arms round an astonished Julian.

‘He’s adorable! He’s got cheeks like a cherub! And his little hands are all curled up into fists like Muhammad Ali! I’ll take six of him. Well done Dad!’

Dad recovered sufficiently to join in the laughter.

Jill seemed to have forgotten all about going to change. She pulled a chair close to Julian.

‘What time does he wake up? I’m going to set my alarm. Can I give him his morning feed?’

‘You’ll have to get in line.’ Edward was grinning. Jill’s good humour was infectious.

‘You can give him his two a.m. feed if you’re really keen,’ said Julian.

‘Even put him in your room, if you like,’ added Edward, pouring Jill a glass of wine.

‘Oh no, it is important for baby to have a routine.’

Nadia, alarmed, had half-risen. Julian laughed and assured her it was a joke. ‘The English sense of humour, Nadia.’

Her anxious expression gave way to a doubtful smile.

‘I’ve got five brothers, Julian,’ said Jill. ‘I’m a total expert on boys. Mind you, they’re all older than me. I was Dad’s last chance, as my mother said. He got banished to the spare room and fed on bromide after I was born, oops, only kidding Nadia, oh you probably don’t know what bromide is anyway, forget it, just ignore me, I’m a bit of a chatterbox, has Caro told you? Well of course she has, so anyway, was your flight alright, with the baby and that?’