Three's a Crowd (9 page)

“I see you like
this
singer.” Lola nodded towards Eve on the stage.

I shrugged, trying to look nonchalant about it.

“Though her father still seems to think she’s a little girl unable to cope with real life.” Lola gave a contemptuous sniff. “Still, he’ll learn, won’t he?”

Without waiting for me to reply, she strode off to the stage and started shouting in Spanish at the pianist again.

Eve walked over, frowning. “What did
she
want?”

“I have no idea,” I said, honestly. “Er . . . Alejandro seems nice.”

Eve’s frown vanished. She beamed at me. “I thought so, too. Oh, Luke, I’m so pleased you said that. I was really worried you’d be all jealous about him because. . .” She stopped.

“Because he’s so horny?” I said, forcing a smile onto my face. “Yeah, I noticed everyone round here seems to think he’s all that. But why should I worry? You’re with me, right?”

I was rewarded for this speech with an even bigger smile. Eve leaned towards me, her hair brushing against my face. “I so want to kiss you,” she said.

“
Eva. Eva. Ven aquí
,” barked the pianist. Lola was flouncing out through the back of the stage. Alejandro waved at us, beckoning Eve back.

“Later?” I said, raising my eyebrows.

“Later.” Eve went back to the stage and sang both her songs again. This time she looked straight at me while she was singing. It was kind of nice. Like she was singing for me.

Afterwards, even the pianist seemed satisfied.

Ryan and Chloe appeared while the band were packing up.

“Free time for the rest of the day,” Ryan grinned. “We’re going into Cala del Toro for a beer. D’you two wanna come?”

Eve looked across at Alejandro, who was still talking to the pianist.

“We could ask Alejandro?” Ryan said.

“Yum,” Chloe said enthusiastically.

Eve turned to me. “What d’you think, Luke?”

I stared into her pale blue eyes.

No. No. No. I want to be alone with you. I don’t want to go for a drink with everyone else. And certainly not with Mr Freakin’ Perfect with his drums and his abs and his bloody everyone-loves-me smile.

“Good idea,” I said. “Why don’t you ask him.”

We sauntered up the road to Cala del Toro at about five o’clock. It was still hot, but the deliciously sweet breeze stopped the air from being suffocating. Ryan and Chloe strolled hand in hand but, as usual, Eve and I were careful to walk slightly apart from each other in case anyone from the hotel saw us.

Not that Eve seemed to mind. She chatted happily to Alejandro as we wandered away from the shore, up to the square in the middle of town. The tables belonging to the cafes round the outside of the stone plaza were mostly empty and the central area was quiet too – just a couple of old men arguing over a dominoes game at a little iron table, and a small group of Spanish kids playing tag.

We sat at a round, cast-iron table outside a cafe, in the shade of a cluster of olive trees. Alejandro knew one of the waiters and they talked briefly in Spanish while Eve and I held hands under the table.

After an hour in his company I had to admit that Alejandro was, like Ryan had said, a sound guy. He was eighteen, but didn’t seem to mind in the slightest that we were all younger than him. He was clearly massively well off – even I could see his clothes were expensive – and his wallet was stuffed with euros. He paid for everything. He insisted. And yet he did it in this easy-going way that never made you feel uncomfortable about it.

“It is my treat for pushing into your drink,” he said, flashing a smile round at all of us. And that was another thing. He didn’t get all sexed-up over the girls. He was just nice. As nice to me and Ryan as he was to Eve and Chloe.

“I only play in the band to please my father,” he explained to me in his lightly accented, rather formal English. “It is our deal. I will work for him over the summer and he will let me follow my dream after.” He rolled his eyes. “It would be better to follow my dream now, but still. . .” He smiled at Eve. “. . .you know fathers.”

Then he turned to me. “Is yours the same?”

I stared at him. “Mine’s dead,” I said.

Alejandro looked stricken. “I am so sorry.” He glanced over at Chloe. “How stupid I feel . . . I. . .”

“It’s okay. It’s okay,” we kept saying.

Chloe went on, trying to reassure him. In the end I sat back, embarrassed at how red-faced Alejandro had become.

I hadn’t let myself think about Dad properly for ages. I mean, he came into my head several times a day – memories and stuff like that. But I hadn’t really let myself imagine him or what it might be like to actually speak to him – not for a long time. Right now I did, though. It occurred to me I could have asked him what
he
thought I should feel about Mum having a baby with Matt.

And about Eve, about how to deal with other guys liking her.

As the light began to fade, I noticed Alejandro look at Eve several times, but the only sign that he might have anything more than friendship on his mind came right at the end of our drink, when Chloe asked him how come his English was so good.

“I was taught by a private tutor.” Alejandro grimaced. “My father thinks everyone must speak English to succeed in business. He still thinks I might want to be in business, for some reason.” He smiled. “I remember my tutor makes me . . . I mean
made
me, play this game with words to help with English pronunciation. A rhyming game. So he gave me a word and I told him a word it rhymes with. Then he made me do it with names. It is very hard.”

“Do it with my name,” Chloe demanded. “Go on.”

Alejandro’s eyes twinkled. “Chloe . . . Chloe . . . glowy. Like the candles and fire. Glowy.”

Chloe grinned. “What about ‘Ryan’?”

Ryan laughed. “That’s too hard. Do ‘Ry’.”

Alejandro smiled. “Easy: try, why, fry, high, sigh. . .”

“I know a rhyme for ‘Ryan’,” Eve said softly. “Cyan.”

“What’s that?” Alejandro said.

“It’s a colour. Blue.” Eve blushed, like she always did when she thought she might be seen as showing off about something.

Alejandro didn’t take his eyes off her. “‘Eve’ is easy,” he said. “Eve. Believe. Never leave.” He caught my eye and sat up straighter. “Then ‘Luke’.”

“Don’t bother with me,” I said hastily. “I’ve been hearing it since I was seven. Luke. Puke.”

Alejandro raised his eyes. “What is ‘puke’? I was going to say fluke. Which is how you got a beautiful girl like Eve. No?”

Eve breathed in sharply. I stared at him, my heart thudding. He knew about me and Eve? But we’d been careful. All evening all we’d done was hold hands once – and that only under the table.

I glanced at Eve. Her face was white, her eyes scared.

“Alejandro,” she said. “My dad. . .”

“I know. It is okay. I will no say anything.”

“How did you know?” Eve said.

Alejandro gazed at her, a slow smile curling round his mouth. “The way you sang to him. The way he has looked at you all evening.”

I stared at him. Alejandro was still smiling at Eve.

“We should go back,” he said. “We are supposed to be back at the nightclub for nine and you have to get ready in your beautiful dress.”

She stood up.

“I’ll come too,” I said.

Alejandro shook his head. “There is no need for you to do that,” he said. “I will look after your girl.”

Eve rolled her eyes. “Excuse me,” she said. “I don’t need looking after.” She leaned down and whispered in my ear. “You stay here for a bit,” she said. “I don’t go on for the first half an hour and you know you don’t really like the music.”

I nodded, hating the fact that if I said I wanted to go back with her now she would just think I was being jealous.

I watched them walk off together, an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Over the next week Eve spent more time with Alejandro than she did with me. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. Apart from Jonno’s, of course.

Anyway, what with my homework, our separate work shifts and her having to spend large portions of the afternoon and evening hanging around for rehearsals and performances, there were some days when we hardly saw each other.

Alejandro, on the other hand, had no calls on his time other than the same rehearsals and performances Eve was involved in. He helped her a lot. He kept the temperamental pianist away as much as he could and he gave her advice and encouragement the whole time.

That first night, Eve was so nervous I thought she was going to be sick. She was standing backstage in her shimmery dress, clutching her stomach and shaking.

“Why is my Dad making me do this?” she wailed. “I can’t do it. Not with all those people watching. I can’t remember the words. I can’t remember when to come in. I can’t do it.”

I stared at her, my heart pounding, not knowing what to say.

Alejandro gripped her shoulders. “You know the song, Eva,” he said. “Just do it like earlier. If you forget your cues the band will follow you. If you forget the words, sing ‘la, la, la’ or the last verse over again. And smile. Smile at the audience. Especially in the bridge. Do no forget. They
want
to like you.”

Jonno gave her a big introduction. He was very clever with it. He made sure the audience didn’t expect a professional – spinning this big line about Eve helping him out and hoping they wouldn’t mind hearing her for just one song.

Eve got through it okay. She always sounded good to me. But when she came off stage it was Alejandro she turned to – his praise meant the most and his suggestions for improving were what she wanted to hear.

I hated it. But there was nothing I could do. I never once saw Alejandro look at or speak to Eve like he was was interested. And yet I was sure he must be. How could any guy
not
be?

After a couple of days I suggested that Eve stopped doing her other jobs, in the crèche and waiting tables.

“Surely your dad must realise how hard you’re working with the band?”

Eve shook her head. “I can’t stop. I’m the boss’s daughter. No-one will talk to me if they think I’m arsing about, not working.”

I frowned. “But what about me? I never see you.”

Eve snapped that I was being selfish. “It’s not easy for me,” she said. “Why don’t you understand? Alejandro does.”

Things got worse when Alejandro’s dad turned up for a few days. He and Jonno had long business meetings every evening, then took Eve, Alejandro and Lola out for late meals. For three nights I didn’t see Eve at all after her nine-thirty and ten-thirty songs at the nightclub.

I went to the Garito with Ryan and Chloe. I chatted to Marco and his friends. I even got into some harmless flirting with Catalina. She’d developed this jokey habit of running her hands through my hair and saying it was getting blonder and blonder in the sun. Which it was. Then she’d give it this playful little tug and narrow her eyes in that hard, sexy way of hers. It was fun.

But even while I was soaking up Catalina’s attention, Eve was always at the back of my mind. She and Alejandro never got back from the meals out with their dads until about two a.m., when Jonno made Eve go straight up to bed. In some ways that was the worst time for me. I knew Alejandro had a room in the main part of the hotel, near the private apartment where Eve was staying with Chloe and her dad and Lola. Eve couldn’t go through the lobby towards my room without the overnight receptionists seeing her. But there was nothing to stop her sneaking unnoticed into Alejandro’s room in the middle of the night.

But what could I do?

I’d promised not to be jealous. And although I broke that promise every minute of every day, I couldn’t let her know it.

On the fourth morning after Alejandro’s dad came to visit, I checked that Jonno was by the pool, then marched up to Eve’s room.

She looked anxious when she saw me.

“This isn’t a good idea, Luke.” She gave me a quick hug then stepped away. “What if my dad comes back. . .?”

“Screw him,” I said. “It’s not fair. Tonight you have to tell him you don’t want to go out. Say you’re ill or something. Anything.”

Eve bit her lip. “I can’t. But Alejandro’s dad’ll be gone in a couple of days. Things’ll get easier then.”

I pulled her towards me. “Don’t you
want
to see me?”

“Of course I do.” She hugged me again, resting her head on my shoulder.

We stood there for a minute. It was so good to feel her against me, her body all warm and soft and curvy. I breathed in the lemony smell of her hair, then leaned down and kissed her neck.

She tilted her head back. Seconds later we were snogging furiously, our hands everywhere. Suddenly I was off my head with wanting her. I started backing her towards the bed, loving the way she was tugging at my T-shirt, pulling me after her.

The bedroom door clicked open.

We both whipped round.

Chloe was standing there, her arms folded, a disapproving look on her face. “Ryan’s just called me. He says Jonno’s in reception and could be up here any minute.”

I groaned. “Can’t I say I’m visiting you? You’re my
sister
for God’s sake.”

“Then you’ll have to come next door into my room and actually visit me, won’t you?” Chloe said, tartly. “And I’m not sitting there like some anti-chaperone watching you two grope each other to death.”

I turned to Eve. “What are your shifts today?”

“Pool duty in half an hour,” she said. “Then you have to do homework and I have rehearsals and then crèche with Chloe from four to six.”

I clenched my jaw. “And I’m in the restaurant from six to eight.”

“Which is when I have to get ready for the nightclub.” Eve sighed. “God, I hate singing in that bloody place.”

“So we have half an hour now.” I slid my hands down her back. “Why don’t we go down to the beach?”

Eve looked up at me. “Because it takes fifteen minutes to get far enough away to be sure no-one from the hotel will see us, so as soon we get there, I’ll have to come back.”

She stroked my face with her fingers. I closed my eyes.

“Hel-lo,” Chloe called from the door. “I strongly suggest you two tear yourselves away from each other. Now. After what Jonno did to that guy last night I would think you—”