The Mermaid Garden (51 page)

capture his attention, when he was suddenly distracted by the unex-

pected sight of Marina wandering across the lawn towards Biscuit,

who lay asleep in the shade of the cedar tree. He remained staring as

she trod slowly, hands in pockets, shoulders a little hunched, then stood a while gazing down at him, alone with her thoughts. He wondered

what she was thinking—and if it wasn’t fear that made her recoil last

night, what was it?

After a long while, she sat beside him and rested her hand on his

head. Rafa could feel the weight of her sorrow as if it fell on his shoulders, too. The dog slept on, but Marina gently stroked his fur, never taking her eyes off him. Rafa could barely take his eyes off
her
. He wanted to go down and sit with her. He wanted to ask her why the dog made

her feel so sad. But he knew it would be intrusive. He didn’t know her

well enough—and he didn’t want to break the moment. Eventually, he

dragged himself away and went into the bathroom to freshen up for his

afternoon lesson.

Clementine had wanted to tell Joe about Biscuit, but she couldn’t trust herself not to give away the growing feelings she had for Rafa. The two were intertwined: Biscuit was the excuse that would throw them together, and she couldn’t think of the dog without recalling Rafa’s hero-ism. So, she had made up a story about helping her father with his boat and falling into the sea, which is why she was in his dressing gown with her wet clothes in a plastic bag.

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Joe had bought it, because he had
wanted
to buy it. If he suspected she was lying, he hadn’t let it show. He had put his big arms around her, and if he had felt her body stiffen, he had ignored it.

She had spent a long time in the bath, recalling every moment of

the rescue—the way Rafa had swum so bravely, the way he had encour-

aged her so confidently, the way he had cared so deeply for the endan-

gered animal. He had touched her heart, and she had flung wide the

door and let him in. Only, he didn’t know that he was in.

So, why didn’t she just end it with Joe? She had asked herself that

question many times, and always got the same answer: but then she’d

have no one.

In the morning love had awoken her early. She had left Joe asleep,

spread-eagled in the bed, but she was too wound up to feel any regret.

Her belly was full of tingling nerves like the mad crawling of a whole

nest of ants. She wasn’t hungry, but she stopped at the Black Bean Cof-

fee Shop anyway, to feel close to Rafa even though he wasn’t there.

When she had received his voice mail, her stomach had lurched with

excitement. The thought of their afternoon outing to the pet shop had

propelled her through her day.

She had sat at her desk dreamily, half listening to Sylvia whingeing

on about Freddie and whether or not he’d ever leave his wife, half re-

playing the rescue over and over again. She glowed with the infectious

light of love, and every man who came into the office sensed it and was drawn to it, leaving with a little sprinkle on his shoulders and a spring in his step. Mr. Atwood lingered as much as possible, hovering around

her desk like a mosquito. Clementine barely noticed him.

Joe telephoned, but Clementine managed to avoid his calls. Sylvia

glanced at her suspiciously, wondering why she was too busy to speak

to him. But when Rafa appeared at five-thirty p.m. with Biscuit, she

realized why: The girl was in love—but not with Joe. She felt the air

vibrate between Clementine and Rafa like a whole orchestra of violins,

and couldn’t help but feel a stab of jealousy. Why didn’t Big Love ever happen to her?

Clementine cuddled the dog affectionately, recounting to Sylvia

how they had saved him from drowning. Rafa rejoined that if he ever

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Santa Montefiore

him to a pulp. Clementine looked on proudly as Sylvia’s admiration

glowed on her face. He was not only handsome, but heroic, too. Biscuit

had recovered from the shock of his near-death experience, as only a

dog can. He wagged his tail and panted, pushing his nose under Clem-

entine’s hand whenever she got distracted and paused her stroking. He

was clearly happy with his new owners.

Sylvia watched them all leave. She had read about another robbery

in the
Gazette
. A small one, this time, at the private home of Edward and Anya Powell, who happened to be great friends of Grey and Marina. The only thing taken was an enormous diamond engagement ring

Anya always put in an ashtray on the kitchen windowsill when she was

washing up. The only proof that it was stolen at all and not mislaid was the note saying “Thank you” in the unmistakable hand of Baffles, the

gentleman thief. The journalist reporting said there was a chance that it was a spoof, a copycat burglary, for why would Baffles bother to break

in for one small piece of jewelry, unless he was getting a buzz out of

once again slipping through the net?

Clementine and Rafa went straight to the pet shop. They filled a trol-

ley with dog food, biscuits, and toys. Rafa pulled treats off the shelves and took them out onto the pavement for Biscuit to sniff. Clementine

watched, amused, while Rafa was certain the dog had the ability to

choose from the packet what he liked best. She realized she hadn’t ever had such fun. Sure, people made her laugh, but never with such abandon. Most of all she felt
she
was fun to be with. Rafa brought out the best in her, and she liked who she was when she was with him.

They stuffed Rafa’s boot with their goods, then drove to Salcombe to

give Biscuit a run. It didn’t seem right to take him to the beach where they had first heard him cry for help, so they took him to a pebble

beach nearby and let him off the lead to explore freely. They wandered

up and down, chatting contentedly, then found a pub nearby and sat

outside in the fading sunlight to enjoy a light dinner. Clementine didn’t feel the need to drink copious amounts of alcohol. She no longer felt

the desire to lose herself.

When her telephone rang, she looked at the name on the screen and

pulled a face.

Rafa raised his eyebrows. “Joe?” he asked. Clementine nodded. She

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wished he’d mind, but he simply smiled at her. “Aren’t you going to

answer it?”

Reluctantly, she put it to her ear. “Hi, Joe.”

“Where are you?”

“I’m at a pub with a friend.”

“The Argentine and his dog,” Joe stated flatly. Clementine was taken

by surprise. She hadn’t expected him to know. “I came by your office,

but you had already left. Look, Clemmie, we need to talk.”

“You’re right, we do.” She watched Rafa stroke Biscuit, but she knew

he was listening.

“When are you coming back?”

“Soon.”

“We’ll talk then.”

“Okay.” She hung up. “Sylvia told him I went off with you. He’s not

over the moon about it.”

Rafa sat up and looked at her, his brown eyes full of understanding.

She remembered the first time he had gazed into her eyes like that, in

the church when she had told him she believed Marina had stolen her

father, and he had been as irresistible then as he was now. “You should move back in with your parents.”

“I know.”

“You don’t love him.”

“That obvious, eh?”

“I’m afraid you don’t have to be a rocket scientist to see that you used him just to get at your stepmother—and perhaps to get at me, too.”

She blushed but brushed aside his analysis. “I’ve only just moved in.”

“That’s irrelevant. You cannot stay in a relationship if your heart isn’t in it.”

“I’m very proud.”

“Pride only hurts the proud. Let it go. Everyone makes mistakes;

there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s life. But if you hold on to unhappy situations just because you’re too proud to relinquish them, then you’re the fool.” He took her hand in his. “Don’t be the fool, Clementine.

You’re way too clever for that.”

She felt her blush deepen. Nothing else existed but his hand and the

feel of his skin touching hers. She tried to act as if it meant nothing, 30067 The Mermaid Garden.indd 329

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Santa Montefiore

but she was sure her heart was jumping through her T-shirt like a

cricket trying to find its way out. He was looking at her so intensely

she could barely hold her ground, but she was determined not to look

away. “You’re a very special girl,” he said softly. “The trouble is, you don’t see yourself that way. You have to start looking at yourself through my eyes.”

“What do you see?”

“I see a very beautiful smile. I see blushing cheeks and pretty blue

eyes, but I see beyond all that to the person you are inside, and I like that person very much.”

Clementine shuffled on the bench. “I don’t know what to say.”

He shrugged. “Then don’t say anything at all. I’m simply stating

things the way they are.”

“Do you say these things to everyone?”

“Only if I mean it.”

“But do you see blushing cheeks and pretty eyes in everyone? Or . . .

or . . .” she hesitated. “Or is it just me?” She laughed to hide her embarrassment.

“It’s just you, Clementine,” he said seriously, and his gaze felt like a caress as it swept across her face.

They drove back into town with Biscuit at Clementine’s feet. The air

was highly charged now that they had both gone some way towards

declaring themselves. And yet they hadn’t, quite. Clementine wished

Rafa would just stop the car and kiss her, then it would clear the air like a thunder storm after days of heavy humidity. But he pulled up outside

Joe’s house and got out to open her door. She stepped onto the pave-

ment.

“Would you like me to wait for you?” he offered.

She wanted to run upstairs, grab her bags, and drive off into the

sunset with him. “No, I’ll be fine, thank you,” she said instead. “I don’t know how long this is going to take.”

“Do you want me to warn Marina?”

“No, don’t say anything. I’ll say it myself when I see her.”

“She’ll be very pleased, you know. I think she’s missed you.”

Clementine sighed heavily. “To tell you the truth I’ve missed them

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all, too. I knew from the beginning that I was making a mistake. I feel bad for Joe.”

“Text me if you need support.”

“After your heroics in the sea, I have no doubt that you would come

to my rescue if I needed you.”

“You know I would.” He watched her unlock the front door.

“Here goes,” she mouthed, before disappearing inside and closing it

behind her.

Rafa drove back up to the Polzanze. He took his time, taking plea-

sure from the lush countryside and cotton clouds that caught the wind

and raced across the darkening sky like sailing boats. He was beginning to love it here, but most surprisingly of all, he was beginning to love Clementine.

He bit the inside of his cheek as he recalled how close he had come

to kissing her. In any other time or place he would have swept her into his arms and kissed her days ago. He would have kissed her in the

house that God forgot, he would have kissed her in the sea, he would

have kissed her when she was furious with him and asking him to leave,

and he would have kissed her many times since—countless opportuni-

ties, desire growing steadily stronger, but one thing standing in his way.

He kept his eyes on the road ahead and drove on.

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30.

Marina and Grey were sitting at the kitchen table finishing supper

when Clementine’s car drew up outside the hotel. She got out

and stood a while in the dark, mustering up the courage to face them.

Moving in with Joe had been an act of defiance, but she admitted now

that it had also been a cry for help. It hadn’t extracted the reaction she had hoped for. Or if it had, her father and stepmother hadn’t let their feelings show.

She thought of Rafa and the advice he had given her. It was time she

talked to Marina. The English were great avoiders. They were happier

plodding on pretending issues didn’t exist. Her family was worse than

most. They had never discussed the past or opened up about the way

they felt. But Rafa had given her the courage to do it. She would listen to her stepmother’s side of the story, accept it, then let it go.

She pulled her bag out of the boot and, with a deep breath, strode

over to the stable block. Marina heard the door open and assumed it

was Jake. When Clementine stood in the doorway, she was caught off

guard.

Grey noticed her suitcase in the hall behind her. “Clementine!” he

exclaimed happily. “How nice to see
you
.”

“Is everything all right?” Marina asked, reaching for her glass of

wine.

“I’ve come home,” Clementine stated.

Marina knew her reaction was crucial if she didn’t want the girl run-

ning off again. “Do you want to talk about it?” she asked carefully.