The Sunshine And Biscotti Club (9 page)

And she wasn’t ready for it to end.

So she said, ‘OK,’ and he slung his arm across her shoulders and they started walking in the direction of Bruno’s bar.

In her flip-flops with her big hat, sun-kissed skin, and pine-needle-tousled hair, Eve had a flash of her twenty-something-year-old self, bubbling with nervous energy and uncertainty, skipping through life making mischief with Jimmy. And the memory of it made her spine tingle. It made her thirsty for more. It made her want to drop everything and cycle round the world if it meant she could just hold on to that feeling.

Jessica had been working in the pool area when she’d heard Libby broach the subject of Flo with Miles. The conversation had floated down through an open window as the two of them ripped up carpet together.

Jessica had scrubbed harder at her patio tiles hoping to drown their words out but it didn’t work. Every time she’d paused, her arm muscles aching, snippets of conversation had filled the air.

So in the end she had chucked her brush into the brown soapy water in the bucket and walked through the lemon grove to the boathouse bar, where she had snuck herself a corner table in the shade to avoid being spotted by Bruno.

The bar was more relaxed than she’d given it credit for. All around her on the decking were white and blue deckchairs and huge stripy sun umbrellas. Her table was metal with a matching chair and a blue umbrella. There was a foosball table under a huge towering plane tree and a toy car that kids could sit in and ride
for a euro. The waiters were the only drawback, all achingly cool with hipster beards and dreadlocks, clearly just there for the summer, and oozing the kind of entitlement only the young millennials could pull off. She’d been sitting there for half an hour and still no one had taken her order.

It reminded of her of New York. Of sitting on her own in cafés trying to kill some time. Of knowing that it didn’t matter if no one took her order because she just wanted somewhere to sit, but the lack of order-taking somehow highlighting her aloneness. She was unnoticeable.

Thinking of New York made her think back to earlier, with Libby asking Miles about Flo. It made her think about the email invite from Miles to his and Flo’s wedding at The Plaza. How he’d added a postscript to say that they didn’t have to come, that he knew the flights were expensive. Jessica had presumed that was the get-out clause. That none of them were going to go and would just wait for the photographs. She knew Eve wouldn’t go; she’d just had twins. Jimmy was off somewhere round the world. Jake was a junior doctor so had no money and no time, and Libby, trying to build her catering business, had even less of both. Jessica was in a fairly crap design agency job, broke, and certainly not going to go out of her way to watch Miles marry Flo. It was only Dex who’d championed the trip; who’d emailed them all asking how long they were all going
to stay in the States and should they plan some sort of road trip. When he was met with a string of Reply All rebuffs he’d taken matters into his own hands and bought them all, except Eve, return tickets to New York. Accommodation, he’d said, was no matter, his parents had a place overlooking Central Park.

‘You’ve been waiting long to be served?’ Bruno’s voice broke Jessica’s concentration.

‘Oh, Jesus Christ, you gave me a shock.’ She had to put her hand on her chest to steady her heart.

Bruno stood back, both hands in the air. ‘I am sorry. Sorry.’ Then he laughed and summoned one of the waiters. ‘Why haven’t you got her a drink?’ he asked the young hipster who said something back in Italian and was given a long rebuke before Bruno turned back to Jessica and said, ‘What can he get you, my darling?’

She wasn’t sure. She’d waited so long that now she had no idea. ‘Just a water. A sparkling water, thanks.’

Bruno beckoned for the waiter to go and sort it out quick smart and then pulled up a chair at Jessica’s table, sitting back, ankle crossed over his knee, familiar knowing smile on his face. ‘You look very serious. Far too serious for someone who is on holiday. You looked …’ He seemed to play around in his head for the word, then said, ‘British.’ He laughed.

Jessica raised a brow. ‘And you’re seeming very … Italian,’ she said, looking him up and down as if to question why he was sitting at her table.

A smile stretched over Bruno’s face. Jessica turned away and looked out at the lake. The waiter came over with her water, placed it down delicately on a coaster, and then sloped off, all the while under Bruno’s scrutiny. After a moment’s silence as Jessica stirred her water with the straw, Bruno said, ‘Do you want to go on my boat?’

‘No.’ Jessica shook her head.

Bruno laughed, unfazed, clearly very much enjoying his time sitting with Jessica if the big smile on his face was anything to go by. Jessica had been quite keen for him to leave but, as she turned to look at him, one aloof brow arched, she was now having to stop herself from cracking even the merest hint of a smile. His grinning amusement was infectious. She bit the insides of her mouth as she turned away, looking out at the lake again, which, knowing he was sitting there watching her every move, suddenly seemed sharper in her eyes. The whiteness of the parasols seemed more blinding; the hiss of the cicadas more incessant; the clinking of the ice in her drink almost ear-splitting.

‘Do you want a game of foosball?’ he persevered, angling his head towards the battered wooden minifootball table in the corner by the bar.

Jessica found herself laughing. ‘No,’ she said, with a shake of her head.

‘You can’t play?’

‘Oh, yeah, I can play, I just don’t fancy it now,’ she said, taking another sip of water, the bubbles fizzing and popping on the surface.

‘You are worried you’ll lose?’ he said, leaning forward so his arms were crossed on the table.

She closed her eyes and shook her head, as if his childish reverse psychology was beneath her. She was torn between wanting him to give up and leave and thinking she might miss him if he was gone.

He shrugged. ‘Suit yourself,’ he said, and was just pushing back his chair to stand up when Jimmy and Eve appeared at the table.

‘Don’t leave on our account,’ Jimmy said, looking inquisitively between the pair of them.

But Bruno stood back and gestured for one of them to take his chair. ‘No, I’m going,’ he said. ‘The lovely Jessica cannot be convinced to play at the table.’ He nodded towards the foosball.

‘Really?’ Jimmy frowned. ‘I’ll play.’

Bruno cocked his head, semi-interested.

‘Eve, do you want to play?’ Jimmy asked. Then he turned to Bruno and said, ‘Sorry, I didn’t catch your name.’

‘Bruno. This is my bar.’

‘Very nice,’ said Jimmy. ‘I’m jealous.’ Bruno shrugged as if he wasn’t surprised.

Eve meanwhile was looking at Jessica, clearly wondering what had been going on between the two of
them before they turned up, and when Jessica wouldn’t catch her eye, said, ‘Why not? I’ll play.’ And then with a teasing little tap on Jessica’s shoulder added, ‘If you play we can have two teams.’

Jessica rolled her eyes. Eve was always like that, always up for the next thing, for anything that caused a bit of mischief. She’d been the one small enough to climb through the boys’ bathroom window directly above Jessica’s bedroom and tap on the window with a ruler, convincing her she was being haunted. She’d been the one to make them hitchhike to the South of France and camp for a week on the beach. She’d always been the one that needled them all, pushed them out of their comfort zones. But when Jimmy had left it seemed to take the edge off Eve’s verve. She had been more than happy for Flo to move in and pick up the mantle.

It was the sliver of familiarity in Eve’s playful goading that made Jessica push back her chair and stand up, trying to ignore Bruno’s satisfied smile. ‘Boys against girls,’ she said, determined not to give him any more encouragement by partnering with him.

‘If you want,’ Jimmy said, striding towards the table. ‘Except you’ll probably lose.’

‘Why would we lose?’ Jessica said, marching towards the opposite side of the table to Jimmy. ‘Because we’re girls?’

‘You’re always so easy to wind up,’ Jimmy said, laughing, pouring a couple of euros into the slot so the
little white ball dropped into the hole at the side of the table.

Jessica glared at him. She heard Bruno chuckle as he took his place next to Jimmy.

Eve stood next to Jessica. ‘I’m not very good at this, Jessica,’ she whispered.

‘Just guard the goal,’ Jessica replied. ‘I’ll do the rest.’

When Dex and Jessica had moved into their first office space, a big draughty room that had once been an old hat factory, Dex had been so excited by the huge expanse of empty wooden floor he had gone out and bought a table football game, a basketball hoop, a pinball machine, Lego, and loads of multi-coloured beanbags. He’d read somewhere that it was all meant to encourage creative play and free imagination. Except, gradually, as they employed more people and the company grew to what it was today, all the creative paraphernalia just got on people’s nerves. The noise of the basketball bouncing was so annoying it had had been locked in a cupboard; the beanbags were too squishy and made people feel stupid as they tried to hold serious meetings; the Lego was ignored from the moment Dex strode through the office in a foul mood one day, saw an assistant building a tower, and said, ‘Working hard I see,’; the pinball was disabled because the banging was too loud; but the table football, which lived in the kitchen area, was such a success they had set up a league. It had been topped two years in a row
by Jessica and a guy in web design called Karl. By chance, as she waited for the microwave to heat up her soup one day, Jessica had found it to be one of the most brilliant cures for stress and, from then on, if she ever had a problem that she couldn’t fix, a couple of rounds with her little blue-shirted players and without fail she had a solution.

Three games later in the bar and Jimmy was beginning to realise that girls against boys wasn’t such a good idea after all.

‘What? What? That was a foul!’ Jimmy slammed his bar of players hard into the table.

‘You can’t foul, it’s table football,’ Jessica scoffed.

‘You were spinning. You’re not allowed to spin them.’

‘I wasn’t spinning, Jimmy, I was just moving them really quickly,’ Jessica said with a look of pity in Jimmy’s direction.

‘It was spinning.’

Bruno coughed. ‘I actually don’t think it was. I was watching and it wasn’t spinning.’

Jimmy gave a big sigh. ‘This is a farce.’

Jessica made a face. ‘Just because you’re losing.’

Jimmy didn’t reply but sulked his way through one more game before saying, ‘I think I’m going to get a drink.’

Jessica licked her lips. Her eyes met Bruno’s across the table and his were alight with laughter.

Eve stood back as well. ‘I don’t think I’ve got any better,’ she said, then looked out at the lake, the water glistening in the sunshine, and added, ‘I wish I could go for a swim.’

‘There are towels for guests in the beach house,’ Bruno said, pointing towards the white wooden hut midway down the jetty.

‘Oh, really?’ Eve looked to where he was pointing. ‘That’s a really clever idea.’ Then she paused. ‘But I don’t have a swimming costume on.’

Bruno shrugged. ‘So go naked.’

Eve snorted with surprise. Then said in a half whisper, ‘I can’t go naked. People might see.’

‘So?’ Bruno looked unperturbed.

Eve giggled.

The wind blew, gently rustling the leaves of the plane tree overhead, and rays of sun dappled the shade of the table.

Jimmy came back from the bar. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘Bruno is trying to convince Eve to swim naked,’ Jessica said, leaning against the handles of her foosball players.

‘I’m game,’ Jimmy said.

‘I’m not sure.’ Eve shook her head.

‘You don’t have to swim at the end of the jetty. There is a lovely spot just up the path. Very private,’ Bruno added.

Jessica glanced to where he was pointing.

‘You want to swim?’ Bruno said, and Jessica realised he was talking to her.

‘Me? Oh no. There’s no way I’m swimming naked.’

‘Oh, come on,’ Jimmy chivvied, still clearly riled by Jessica’s foosball win. ‘Live a little.’

Bruno was already walking round from his side of the table assuming swimming was a
fait accompli
. Jimmy followed him in the direction of the more private part of the beach.

‘It could be fun?’ said Eve to Jessica, back-stepping out from the shade of the plane tree and into the sun to join the boys.

Jessica shook her head. ‘No way.’

‘Come on,’ Eve said, with a hesitant little shrug. ‘I think we’ll regret it if we don’t.’

‘I won’t.’

Bruno turned to look at her. ‘You are stubborn, aren’t you?’ he said, narrowing his eyes, trying to get the full measure of her.

‘God, yeah, Jessica’s always been stubborn,’ said Jimmy with a knowing grin.

‘I have not.’

‘Yes you have. Ask anyone. Ask Miles. He’ll agree you’re stubborn.’ Jimmy was walking backwards and nodded towards the entrance to the bar as he spoke. ‘Hey, Miles,’ he shouted, and Jessica swung round to see Miles strolling in.

‘Yeah?’

‘Is Jessica stubborn?’

Miles frowned, trying to work out what he’d walked in on. But Miles didn’t have to reply because he was closely followed by Dex, who shouted, ‘Of course she bloody is, she’s like a mule.’

‘A mule?’ Bruno looked confused.

‘Like a donkey,’ Dex clarified.

Bruno laughed. ‘A donkey, I like that.’

‘I am not like a donkey.’

‘So come skinny-dipping,’ Jimmy goaded.

‘Are we skinny-dipping?’ Dex asked. ‘Brilliant. I’m in.’

‘Miles?’ Jimmy asked.

Miles tipped his head to one side, considering. Then said, ‘OK,’ as if it were no different to going to the bar to get a beer.

‘Right then,’ said Jimmy, ‘Let’s go. See you later, Jessica.’

Jessica stood where she was for a second as they all trooped forward towards the olive grove to the left of the bar. Eve next to Jimmy, her blonde hair, pulled into a scruffy ponytail, somehow already brighter and lighter and shinier than it was when she arrived. Dex like a puppy bounding up towards Bruno so he was leading the way. Miles at the back, hands in his pockets, sunglasses on, sauntering with the casual ease of
someone at peace with themselves. And Jessica, staying where she was, heart hammering, feeling frustratingly gutless.

It reminded her of the time they all went skiing. Dex and Flo, who’d both skied from practically the moment they were born, threw themselves down the mountain wearing just t-shirts and salopettes and then got absolutely smashed at lunchtime and did it all again. Miles of course was fearless and followed as best he could on his snowboard. Eve, after taking one look and deciding it wasn’t the sport for her, drank vin chaud and soaked up the sun all day in a deckchair. Which left Libby and Jessica in the baby class. Libby, a natural competitor, picked it all up fairly quickly, but not Jessica. She stumbled and she fell, unable to get up, one ski lost, impeded by Dex’s huge jacket that she’d had to borrow because they’d lost her luggage at the airport. Dex and Flo would come flying past with their ski poles in the air clapping at her attempts to snowplough. For Jessica, it was all very embarrassing and humiliating. But she didn’t give up. In the end she made it almost to the top of the mountain and all the way back down again, covered in snow from all her falls, but she got there. And the reason? The words in the back of her mind through it all?