Sleeping Arrangements (18 page)

Jenna shrugged.

'To be honest, Mrs Stratton—the word I was looking for was "shite". I mean, really seriously bad. But you know better than me.'

A flash of anger passed over Amanda's face and she put her glass down.

'Perhaps you should check on the girls, Jenna,' she said chillingly. 'They could be calling out, and we wouldn't hear them out here.'

'Sure thing,' said Jenna. 'Would anyone like some bar snacks, since I'm going?'

'It depends what colour they are,' muttered Amanda.

'Er . . . absolutely,' said Hugh. 'Bar snacks would be great.'

As Jenna disappeared, Amanda folded her arms and looked from face to face.

'Did you hear that?' she said. 'Is that an appropriate way for a nanny to speak to her employer?'

'Well,' said Philip diplomatically. 'I suppose it all depends . . .' He picked up the bottle of wine, poured out three glasses and handed two to Hugh and Chloe. 'Cheers.'

'I asked her what she'd done this afternoon,' said Amanda. 'You know, just to be friendly.

She said she'd spent it "chilling out and smoking dope. Joke." ' Philip laughed and Amanda gave him a glare. 'Yes, well, quite frankly I'm getting a bit tired of all these jokes. Maybe it was funny the first time . . .' She pushed both hands through her hair and let the air cool her neck.

'God, it's hot.'

'She means well,' said Philip feebly.

'We all mean well,' retorted Amanda, letting her hair go. 'Anyone can mean well. That's not the same as doing well.' Her eye ran over the row of bottles with distaste. 'I've had enough of this charade. I'm going to get an iced drink. Anyone want anything from the kitchen?'

Without waiting for an answer she clicked off across the terrace, passing Sam as she did so. He was loping towards the pool, Nat in tow, both walking with identical swaggers.

'Hey, Mum, Dad,' he called. 'Guess what!'

'What now?' said Philip, rolling his eyes at Chloe. He took a sip of the wine and grimaced.

'You know, I have to say, I think Jenna's right. This is awful.'

Chloe stared at him blankly, then smiled distractedly back, trying to conceal the tension growing within her. This little drinks-by-the-pool scenario was quite farcical. No-one actually wanted to taste wine. No-one was in the mood for amiable conversation. Certainly she wasn't.

She was feeling more wound up with each minute. She couldn't block Hugh out: every time she glanced up, his gaze was on her. She couldn't escape it; couldn't deflect it. She knew that her cheeks were uncharacteristically flushed, that her hands were trembling around the stem of her wine glass. Philip must guess. He must. She took a gulp of her wine, barely registering its flavour.

'Hey. Wine tasting,' said Sam as he neared them. 'Cool.' Approvingly, he reached for a glass.

'Wine tasting. Cool,' echoed Nat. He half reached for a glass, looked at Chloe, blushed and withdrew his hand.

'There's something important I've got to tell you,' said Sam. 'All of you.' He looked around, his face flushed with anticipation—then frowned at the lack of response. 'Hey, Jenna hasn't told you, has she? She promised she wouldn't.'

'Told us what?' said Philip.

'OK. She hasn't.' Sam shook his head. 'You'll never believe what we've found out. Never in a million years.'

'Never in ten million years,' said Nat.

'Well?' said Philip. 'What is it?'

'Let me taste my wine first,' said Sam. He took a gulp, glancing from face to face. 'Zut al-ors!' he said, in an exaggerated French accent. 'Quel vin merveilleux! Château Coca-Cola never lets one down, don't you find?' Nat giggled, and Sam took another, deeper gulp. 'Ideal for accompanying le burger, les fries . . .'

'Sam—'

'OK, I'll tell you,' said Sam, relenting. He took another swig and looked around 'This is a set-up. Gerard set this whole thing up!'

He gestured widely with his arm, taking in Chloe and Hugh as he did so, and Chloe stiffened slightly.

'What?' she said, more sharply than she had intended. 'What do you mean?'

'This wasn't a mistake, us all arriving here at the same time.' Sam looked around with satisfaction, as though he were being somehow vindicated. 'It's a fix-up. Gerard knew there were going to be loads of people here this week. Apparently he told the cleaner to buy enough food for eight.'

There was silence. Chloe stared at Sam, her heart beating fast.

'So what?' said Philip sceptically.

'So, he knew! He knew all along that we were all flying out for the same week.' Sam downed the contents of his wine glass and smacked his lips. 'He's probably sitting in London right now, laughing at us all.'

'Small question,' said Philip mildly. 'Why would he do such a thing?'

'I dunno, do I?' Sam shrugged. 'For a trick. For fun. Apparently he's going to come out here.'

'Come out here?' said Hugh incredulously.

'Sam, this is a grown man we're talking about here,' said Philip. 'His idea of fun and yours might be slightly different.' Sam looked at him indignantly.

'Don't you believe me? Mum, you believe me.'

Chloe opened her mouth to speak and found she couldn't. Her mind was working too fast.

Tracking back, remembering conversations, remembering idle remarks here and there. Gerard's bright eyes watching her across the dining room. His little digs at Philip. Asking her casually once if she would ever consider being unfaithful. Pouring her a glass of chilled sherry one summer's evening; telling her she needed a lover. She'd laughed. They'd all laughed.

'The cleaner's children were here! They know all about it!'

'Sam, has it occurred to you that they may be bored?' Philip was saying. 'That they may be making things up?'

'But it all makes sense!' Sam's voice rose in frustration. 'I mean, why else are we all here together?'

'We're here because of a mistake!' said Philip. 'My goodness, you young are paranoid!' He turned to Chloe, smiling. 'Can you believe this?'

'No,' said Chloe, in a voice that didn't sound like her own. 'It's ridiculous.'

'Well, let's phone him up, then,' said Sam belligerently. 'Ask him if it's true. Put him on the spot.'

'Sam,' said Philip sharply. 'Gerard has been extraordinarily kind, letting us come and stay in this villa. If you really think we're going to phone him up and start accusing him of playing some elaborate practical joke on us . . .'

'But that's just what he's done! They said he knew there would be eight people here—'

'And you spoke to these people yourself?'

'No,' said Sam after a pause. 'But Jenna said . . .'

'Oh, Jenna said. I see.' Philip sighed. 'Sam, don't you think this might just be another of Jenna's little pranks?' Sam stared silently at Philip for a few moments. Then, stubbornly, he shook his head.

'No. I think it's true.'

'The truth is Out There,' put in Nat solemnly. Everyone turned to look at him and he blushed.

'Exactly!' said Sam. 'Nat's right. There's something going on.'

'You're both wrong,' said Philip firmly, 'and I'm getting a bit tired of this conspiracy theory.

There is no plot, there are no aliens—and crop circles are, I'm afraid, made by people with nothing better to do. Come on, Nat.' He put down his wine glass. 'If you talk to Jenna nicely, she might rustle you up something to eat. And Sam—either you stay with the grown-ups and behave like a grown-up, or you come in with Nat and watch a video.'

There was a pause. Then, sulkily, Sam put down his glass and followed Philip and Nat towards the villa.

When they had gone, there was silence. Chloe stared at Hugh. She felt skewered to the ground; paralysed by this realization which now seemed so obvious, she could hardly believe she hadn't worked it out for herself. Hugh was smiling back at her as though he had no idea what was going on. She wanted to hit him for being so slow.

'You see what this is?' she said at last.

'What?' said Hugh.

'Don't you see what's happened?'

'No.' Hugh shrugged. 'What's happened?' Chloe closed her eyes briefly, feeling a dagger of frustration.

'He set us up,' she said, opening them again. 'Gerard set the two of us up. That's what this is all about. The whole holiday is just a device to get us to . . . to . . .' She broke off and Hugh laughed.

'Chloe, calm down. You're sounding just like Sam.'

'Well, why else are we here? We should have known it wasn't a coincidence.' Chloe shook her head. 'Things like this don't happen by mistake. There's always a reason.'

'Things do happen by mistake!' retorted Hugh easily. 'Of course they do. I tell you, there are far more coincidences in this world than conspiracies. Philip's right. There isn't a huge plot out there. Most things happen through a mixture of chance and human error.' He came towards her, his face relaxed. 'Chloe, Gerard probably doesn't even know we ever knew each other.'

'He does!' Chloe took a deep breath, trying to keep calm. 'He was there when we met, for God's sake!'

'And you think he's really likely to have set up an entire holiday just to throw us together?'

'Oh, I don't know.' Chloe was silent for a few moments. 'Yes.' She looked up. 'Yes. I think I do. It's the kind of thing he would do.' She took a few steps away from Hugh, trying to clear her mind. 'I know how Gerard's mind works,' she said slowly. 'He loves stirring. He adores awkward situations. I've seen him at it with other people. I've laughed at other people with him. I just . . . I never dreamed I would be one of his targets.' She looked at Hugh. 'He probably met you again, and remembered about us, and thought what fun it would be to set us up.

He's never got on with Philip, that's no secret . . .' Chloe broke off and closed her eyes. 'Sam's right, he's probably rubbing his hands with glee . . .'

'Look, Chloe, you don't know any of this.' Hugh came forward and put a hand on her shoulder, and she swung away from him.

'Don't.' She gave a little shudder and thrust her hands into the pockets of her linen jacket, staring ahead at the swimming pool. 'I feel so . . . sordid,' she said in a low voice. 'So horribly predictable.'

'For God's sake!' exclaimed Hugh. 'It's not such a big deal! Even if Gerard did set us up—'

'Of course it's a big deal!' Chloe lashed back angrily. 'He set us a nice little trap . . . and we fell straight into it. Like a couple of . . .' She broke off abruptly. In the distance, there was the sound of shouting in Spanish; a moment later a motorbike started up and zoomed away into the hills. 'And it didn't take us long, did it?' added Chloe without turning round. 'We didn't exactly hang about.'

'Maybe it wasn't a trap,' said Hugh after a pause. 'Maybe Gerard isn't as malevolent as you think. Suppose he did set us up to some extent—well, maybe he did it to give us an opportunity.' He touched the back of her neck and she gave an almost imperceptible shiver.

'Maybe Gerard wanted us to have each other again.'

There was a long silence.

'We can't,' muttered Chloe, staring into the deepening colours of the swimming pool.

'Hugh, we can't.'

'We can.' He bent to kiss the back of her neck and for a few seconds she closed her eyes, unable to resist the awakened feelings flooding back into her body. Then she broke away from his touch.

'Chloe,' said Hugh as she began to walk away. 'Where are you going?' Chloe swivelled and looked at him, her face flushed with emotion. Then she turned back and continued towards the villa without answering.

The study was empty. Chloe walked straight into it, shut the door and sat down at the desk. Everywhere she looked, she could see Gerard's face, smooth and buffed and smug.

Cocooned in his safe little world, where a good wine mattered more than a person; where relationships were fodder for gossip, nothing more. She had thought he cared about her. She had thought their friendship extended beyond mere entertainment value. How could she have misjudged him so drastically?

'How could you?' she said aloud. 'How could you do this to me? We're supposed to be friends.' She felt emotion rising inside her; a hotness threatening her eyes. 'How could you bring him back into my life like this?' She stared at a photograph of Gerard improbably mounted on a large black horse. 'It's not fair, Gerard. I've done my best. I've got on with life, I've been happy, I've made it all work. But this . . .' She swallowed hard. 'This is too much. This isn't fair. I'm not strong enough.' She clamped a fist to her forehead and stared down at the grain of the desk. 'I'm not strong enough,' she whispered again.

She closed her eyes and kneaded her temples, trying to gain perspective. Trying to regain the inner strength and conviction on which she had always relied. But the will was gone; the energy was gone. She felt soft and pliant as a leaf.

The telephone rang, and she jumped. She picked up the receiver and held it cautiously to her ear.

'Erm . . . Hola?' she said into the receiver. 'Hello?'

'Oh, hello,' said a brisk female voice. 'Might I possibly leave a message for Amanda Stratton?'

'Oh,' said Chloe. 'Yes. Or I could go and get her . . .'

'No,' replied the voice hastily. 'No, don't do that. If you could just tell her that Penny rang, the granite is stuck on the M4, and does she want us to move on to the conservatory?'

'Right,' said Chloe, staring down at the words she had written. They made no sense to her whatsoever. 'Granite, conservatory.'

'She'll know what I mean. Thank you so much.' The voice disappeared and Chloe was left alone again. She stared at the telephone, dark green and elegant. On a sudden impulse, she dialled Gerard's number.

'Hello. Gerard's unfortunately too busy to come to the phone right now . . .'

As Chloe heard his smug, silky voice, hundreds of miles away in London, she felt sick. Of course Gerard had set her up; had set them all up. They should have known something was suspicious. Why else had he suddenly offered them this villa after years of owning it and never even mentioning it? Why had the invitation suddenly arrived, out of the blue? She put the receiver down, before Gerard finished speaking, her hand trembling slightly.

'Philip was right about you all along,' she said to Gerard's glossy, framed face. 'You're a vain, selfish little . . . shit. And I . . .' She swallowed. 'I don't know what I'm going to do.'