Summer at Tiffany's Page 20

  Archie came over, breaking up their secretive conversation and handing Cassie a drink of Purdey’s with a disapproving look – although whether that was because she had hijacked his Merlot heist or was wearing sunglasses in the gloaming she couldn’t be sure.

  ‘Thanks, Arch,’ she smiled apologetically. ‘Have you started to stiffen up yet?’

  ‘Who, me?’ he asked, stretching his neck. ‘I have a residual fitness level that I just never lose, Cass. I guess it comes from being so sporty in my youth.’

  ‘Yes, really fit. Hence the near-fatal heart attack,’ Suzy scoffed, but softening her scorn by affectionately flicking the tea towel at his retreating bottom.

  ‘Ugh, I’ve got to start running more regularly again,’ Cassie sighed, rubbing her thighs lightly through the thin cotton of her baby-blue dress. ‘I may need a piggyback up the stairs tonight. I’m not sure I’ll be capable of popping even a champagne cork by tomorrow.’

  There was the sound of squeaking from the near corner and they all turned as a side gate swung back on its hinges.

  ‘Hey! Here you all are. What a lovely sight,’ Gem cried happily, crossing the lawn. She ambled up to Laird and kissed him lingeringly on the lips. ‘Miss me?’

  ‘Of course,’ Laird grinned. ‘Where’ve you been? I was expecting you back ages ago.’

  ‘Where haven’t we been?’ she asked back, accepting her Purdey’s from Archie with a grateful smile. ‘We went to Padstow, then on into Wadebridge to get some proper drinks.’ She winked at Archie. Suzy looked like she was going to have a stroke. ‘Then we went for a drive to Port Isaac. It is just so cute there. Honey, I wish you’d come with us. I know you wanted to ride the waves, but you’d have loved it. We’ll go again tomorrow, shall we? It’s this heavenly little fishing village, just teeny tiny, and we found the best fudge shop.’

  ‘Sounds great. Where are the others?’

  ‘Just coming. Amber’s trying to find a cover-up. She feels the cold so easily.’

  ‘Did they enjoy the sights?’

  ‘Loved it. Loved it! Luke says he never wants to leave.’

  Cassie almost dropped the glass from her hand. What had Gem said?

  ‘And you’ll never guess who I saw today—’ Gem continued, just as the side gate squeaked open again and they all turned to see a tall, lean couple making their way over the grass. ‘Oh, look, they’re here. Come over, guys!’

  Cassie felt the ground shift beneath her feet as she took in a silhouette that she knew all too well. No, he couldn’t possibly be here . . . Not again.

  But he could and Suzy realized it, too, in the next moment, giving a small gasp and turning to Cassie in horror. They watched in silence as the couple approached, their hands intertwined, long, lean legs striding in unison.

  ‘Amber, Luke, I want you to meet Suzy, my biggest and best cousin, her hubby, Archie, and Cassie, who’s engaged to my other cousin, Henry, who isn’t here – he’s sailing across the Pacific as we speak,’ she said proudly.

  Even the mention of Henry couldn’t pierce the smog of shock that had descended over Cassie at the sight of her ex-boyfriend crossing the grass.

  ‘Happy to meet you, Luke,’ Archie said, oblivious to the tangled web that interconnected some of their group and thrusting out his hand. ‘And, Amber, what a pleasure.’

  Suzy, for once, didn’t say a word, instead shaking their hands like a dutiful wife and waiting for Cassie to take the lead on whether or not to reveal that they were already . . . acquainted.

  For a long moment Cassie just blinked at them all from behind her giant sunglasses, grateful now for their protection in the fast-fading light. Amber she’d have known by name even without an introduction. She was one of the models of the moment, with ad campaigns for Dolce & Gabbana, Jimmy Choo and Burberry this season. And Luke was her boyfriend. She was whom he’d meant when he’d said at the party that he’d moved on too. He hadn’t been lying, then.

  ‘Hello,’ she said finally, shaking Amber’s delicate hand, scared she might lift her off the ground. She looked over at Luke; his expression was hidden from her by his own mirrored aviators, but the tension in his body was plainly apparent – he was standing too still for one thing, like a samurai alert to any movement at all.

  They weren’t going to be able to deny knowing each other.

  ‘Hello, Luke. Nice to see you again,’ she said stiffly, not sure whether he’d even respond with civility. They’d hardly parted on friendly terms last week, when she’d thrown his attempts at diplomacy back in his face.

  Gem looked astonished. ‘You guys know each other?’

  ‘Vaguely,’ Luke said quickly, before she could reply. ‘We met in New York a few times. We’ve got some friends in common, right? Bas, Kelly Hartford . . .’

  ‘Uh, yes, she’s Kelly Cole now,’ Cassie said cautiously, trying to guess his game. ‘She got married a few years back.’

  ‘Oh yeah, that’s right. I’d forgotten. Who can keep track, right?’ He cracked a slight smile. ‘Do you still see her?’

  Cassie just nodded. She wished she could see his eyes. They’d had this very conversation at the polo. This was a game, role play.

  ‘Kelly’s an absolutely top pal of Suzy’s too,’ Archie said, oblivious to the undercurrent. ‘The girls were all at school together. They go back yonks.’

  ‘Funny, isn’t it?’ Luke asked, stuffing his hand in his pocket and looking across at Archie with interest. ‘It’s just such a small world.’

  ‘Never fails to astound me,’ Archie continued. ‘I remember one time . . .’

  Cassie tuned out, watching Luke deliver a seamless performance that betrayed no hint of the intensity that had once existed between them, of the fierce passion that had led to them not leaving his apartment for four days one time and her losing three pounds just from sex. Her eyes travelled over to Amber, yet another in the long line of models who had both preceded and succeeded her. A photographer dating his models was just an occupational hazard, he’d once told her. Actors dated other actors; nurses dated doctors . . . How else was he supposed to meet girls when he was trapped in an airless, windowless studio for fifteen hours in every day? And frankly, though he’d never said this outright to her, why wouldn’t he? Every man on the planet would want to trade places with him.

  Cassie tilted her face to make out that she was listening to the men’s conversation, but her eyes were taking in Amber’s silver ‘H’ Hermès sandals and denim cut-off shorts, which were so tiny the pocket linings peeked out of the bottoms. Her long, rich brown hair – while not blow-dried – had still clearly been styled into rough ‘beachy’ waves, and she had some sort of dry oil on her skin, for it glistened as she moved, minute flecks of gold reflecting in the sunset. A hair-thin gold bracelet with a single diamond dangled round one dainty wrist, and it was apparent she had been named Amber on account of her lion’s-yellow eyes.

  ‘Well, it’s an amazing place you’ve got here,’ Luke said, still to Archie, and Cassie knew he was deliberately avoiding engaging Suzy in conversation directly. She did know the truth about their relationship and he couldn’t be sure yet how her loyalty to Cassie would manifest itself – although fiercely would be a good guess. ‘I can hardly believe the view. I always think mine is pretty special in Manhattan – I live on the forty-eighth floor and can see all the way to Brooklyn – but this is really something else.’

  Cassie tried not to remember his apartment – the industrial chic with exposed-brick walls and steel girders he’d pioneered long before the crowds, the massive custom-made bed, the state-of-the-art coffee machine, the light box where he’d first seduced her . . .

  Why was he here? Had he known she was here? He had to have known! Surely he didn’t expect her to believe it was just a coincidence to find themselves in the same shabby house on a remote lane in the furthest corner of England?

  ‘So how do you guys know each other?’ Cassie asked Gem, accidentally, in her haste, talking over the punchline of Archie’s joke
about the Frenchman and the toast.

  ‘Oh, Ambs and I connected in Sydney last year. Lululemon was doing this mass live yoga session for the launch of their flagship and Amby was one of the models.’

  ‘Why did they have models for a yoga session?’ Suzy asked disingenuously.

  ‘Oh, ’cos it all goes hand in hand in that market. I mean, everyone’s always asking you about your figure and how you exercise and what you wear, right?’

  Amber groaned and rolled her eyes. ‘Jeez, if I had a buck for every time I’ve been asked about my fitness regimen or my diet, I wouldn’t have to freaking work!’ she laughed.

  Gem, Luke, Archie and Laird laughed too. Suzy didn’t – Cassie could see her friend was watching her husband’s blood pressure rise by the second to be in the presence of a bona fide model.

  ‘Anyway, so Amber was one of the girls doing the demo and I was leading the yoga workshop; we just got chatting and really connected.’ Gem put her hand on Amber’s arm. ‘Hey, remember the silent retreat in Goa?’

  ‘Oh, man, we got the giggles so bad,’ Amber laughed, leaning in to Luke so that he draped his arm round her shoulders, planting an easy kiss on the top of her head. ‘I mean, three days without speaking? Come on!’

  ‘It wouldn’t be Suzy’s forte either,’ Archie said. ‘She talks so much sometimes I think she’s being paid for words per minute.’

  ‘Oh, ha, ha!’ Suzy said indignantly, walloping him on the arm.

  ‘Wow, so then you’re here because you two are such good friends,’ Cassie murmured, scarcely able to believe her bad luck. It had been bad enough seeing Luke at the polo and the party with Beau’s crowd; that at least made sense – he and Beau were friends – but now there was another connection linking their worlds?

  ‘Yeah, but it’s not like we’re able to see each other much,’ Gem shrugged. ‘In fact, we haven’t seen each other for months. Amber’s always travelling for work—’

  ‘Always,’ Amber sighed wearily.

  ‘And I was in Oz for all that time. We’d slightly lost touch, to be honest.’ Gem looked sadly at Amber, who was nodding solemnly back at her. ‘But then we bumped into each other again at Henry’s leaving party last week because Luke’s a mate of Beau’s. Can you believe it?’

  ‘Sadly yes,’ Cassie muttered into her drink.

  ‘So when Amber told me she was with Luke and Luke knew Beau and Beau knew Henry and, of course, you’re with Henry and he’s my cuz and your bro’ – she looked over at Suzy – ‘I thought . . . wouldn’t it be just so much fun?’ Gem held her arms out in delight.

  ‘Amazing,’ Suzy said, shaking her head and looking over at Cassie. ‘Isn’t that just amazing?’

  ‘Amazing,’ Cassie echoed limply.

  ‘It was just the perfect opportunity for us all to be together. I mean, there’s so much to do and talk about.’ She squeezed Amber’s arm as she looked over at Suzy. ‘Amber’s agreed to be my bridesmaid, you see. How could I pass up the chance to have her and you – the very best wedding planner in London – together, all to myself? I just couldn’t resist holing us all up here. You don’t hate me, do you?’ she teased.

  This time, neither Suzy nor Cassie said a word. Neither one of them had the strength to lie.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The sky fell down in the middle of the night, Cassie awaking to find thick layers of cloud rolling in off the sea as she lay in bed looking out past the open doors onto the balcony. She had wanted to go to sleep to the sound of the cows moving quietly in the field, but instead had fallen into a fitful state of unconsciousness where memories of a former life flickered behind her eyelids like backlit stills on a silent-film projector.

  It was not yet seven and the house was silent, Velvet sleeping more soundly than Suzy could ever afford to let Gem know. Cassie rarely saw this time of day; she was famous for her ability to sleep anywhere, through anything – but not this morning. Her legs kept kicking out, her toes and fingers scrunching tight, as though her bloodstream was infected with something feverish.

  She got out of bed and dressed quickly, pulling on yesterday’s shorts and a sloppy grey V-necked T-shirt that had ‘Super Loved’ written across the front in faded script. Henry had bought it for her when he’d seen it in the window of a boutique he’d been passing, even though it had taken him a week to recover from paying over £100 for a T-shirt.

  She pulled on her plimsolls and let herself out through the side door by the pantry, walking with swinging arms as she headed over the lawn and towards the stile. The humidity was intense, even at this early hour, and her bare arms and legs felt clammy and cold within minutes. The hedgerows were heavy with brambles and newly budding blackberries, which were still green, and she had to hold her arms above her head in places to keep from being scratched as she followed the footpath between the two fields, which had been worn bare.

  The cows were all lying down in the fields, their legs bent awkwardly beneath the heft of their bodies, noses nudging the ground as flies buzzed around their ears. She walked past with silent speed, crossing into the links golf course – which already had a few people pulling their bag carts over the greens – feeling a desperate urge to outpace something, her hair swinging wildly over her shoulders and her breath coming heavily, even though she was marching downhill.

  She reached the small church in minutes. A thick hedge walled the graveyard in a protective square, and the church itself was sunken into the grassy banks that surrounded it, like a pin in a cushion, its pointed grey stone steeple looking more like an upturned ice-cream cone up close, weathered but resilient in the onshore breeze.

  She walked through the stone lychgate and up the stepped lawns, falling into an agitated heap at the top. The beach was mere yards away from here, the tide still on its run out, but some dog walkers were already visible by the waterline, throwing balls with long-handled plastic sticks, and she didn’t want to see anyone. Not yet.

  She dropped her head in her hands, feeling buffeted by the storm of emotions raging inside her: frustration and fear anytime she thought about Henry; frustration and anger anytime she thought about Gil; fear and anger anytime she thought about Luke.

  She had been hoping, as Suzy had, that she’d find some kind of escape here, a few days off from normal life to try to get her head around the obstacles that sprang up in her anytime she thought of the words ‘I do.’ Instead, here she was, confronted with a man from her past who was one of the very reasons why she now said, ‘I don’t.’

  It was clear she would have to leave. They had got through last night somehow, without Gem, Laird or Amber picking up on the full, ugly truth about her and Luke (although she was quite sure Suzy would have given Archie the lowdown the second they’d closed their bedroom door), but something would trip them up, something would give them away that would throw a neon light on the lies they’d already told; and besides, how would it look to Henry when he found out she had effectively holidayed with her ex while their relationship hung in the balance? No, there was no choice. They couldn’t both stay here.

  She watched a few boats tracking up and down the now-narrow passage of the estuary, their Cornish-red sails (which were actually brown) filling with wind and bellying out as they tacked and jibbed in neat, rhythmic zigzags. The heavy-bowed clinker boats were a world away from the ocean-going, state-of-the-art craft Henry was in at this very moment, his sky falling dark as hers brightened, another day done for him as she woke to another to endure.

  She thought of the list she wouldn’t get to complete, and she wondered what he had been hoping to achieve from it this time. How was eating a pasty on the sand or racing a boat going to have pushed her past the almost visceral fear that stopped her from wanting to commit again? How was jumping into a lagoon going to have saved them? Because he had made it clear that unless she jumped into marriage again, they had no future.

  The wind blew her hair in front of her face and she rested her elbows on her knees, her hands like barrettes, keeping her
hair pinned back. Even just the thought of splitting up seemed wholly unreal and impossible to her. Yes, they were floundering on the same rock, over and over, but they were crazy about each other, made for each other; there was simply no way she could conceive that they could ever be without each other. If she still continued to say, ‘No,’ would he really go through with it?

  Up till now she had thought time was the answer – delaying, fudging, filling their diaries with trips and holidays and work dos and events so that there was simply no space to pencil in a wedding. Everything was so much fun, so perfect. But time was running out, or so everyone kept telling her anyway. She was thirty now; it was time to start thinking not just about ‘settling down’ but about the next phase, the next chapter. Those were the questions that were beginning to come thick and fast now – from her mother in Hong Kong every time they spoke on the phone, from Hattie, their friends. Had they talked about starting a family? How many did Henry want? A boy first, or a girl? Couldn’t she just imagine a mini-Henry? What a tearaway he’d be – and so handsome too!

  No one realized these questions elicited the same panic in her as ‘Have you set a date?’ They didn’t seem to understand that Gil’s greatest betrayal hadn’t been his infidelity with Wiz; it had been his love for Rory, their secret child, her godson. Cassie had loved him herself, treasuring him and delighting in him as if he had been her own, and to find out that he so nearly was had been the killer blow . . . nearly wasn’t enough. Just like that day in the hospital, she was locked out. She had so badly wanted a family of her own – it had been Gil’s promise that they would begin trying for a baby after the anniversary – but there was no room for her in that one. Blood trumps law. Son trumps wife. It was the little boy who had truly broken her heart, far more than Gil had managed. Was it any wonder that the idea of family felt so tainted to her now?