The Education of Sebastian & the Education of Caroline (34 page)

There was the faintest hint of gray light in the east, and the air was cool and scented with pine.

We leaned against the car, holding each other before the inevitable division that always came.

“Your buzz-cut is growing out,” I said, absentmindedly running my fingers through his hair.

“Yeah, I guess.”

It was clear his mind was elsewhere. “Can I come over tomorrow morning before work?”

“It
is
tomorrow,” I reminded him.

“Can I?”

“I guess so, but let me text you.” I frowned when it occurred to me that I had to face David now—or at some point soon. “Just in case.”

He sighed. “Okay. Love you, Caro.”

I hugged him more tightly then let him go. “I’ll see you later.”

“We’re always saying goodbye. I hate it, Caro.”

“It won’t be for much longer,” I said, with as much conviction as I could muster.

Getting in my car and driving away from him was one of the hardest things I’d ever done.

A few minutes later I was home—or rather, at the house where my soon-to-be-ex-husband slept. I certainly hoped he was asleep as I crept through the back door.

But then I froze. From the kitchen I could see a leg hanging off the end of the couch; it was clad in dress uniform.

Shit!

I took off my shoes and slunk past him barefoot, hardly daring to breathe. His snoring remained deep and regular, so when I reached the top of the stairs without incident, I gasped, feeling faint with relief.

Glancing into our …
his
bedroom, I noticed that the bed hadn’t been slept in. He’d come home so drunk he’d never even made it up the stairs.

Just like Estelle
.

The clock on my bedside table informed me that it was 6
am
; I still had an hour before the alarm. I peeled off my t-shirt and jeans and slid under the cold sheets. I missed Sebastian’s warm body next to mine and couldn’t relax; instead of sleeping, I found myself staring dry-eyed at the ceiling for the best part of an hour.

Five minutes before the alarm was due, I gave up and headed for the shower. The hot water soothed and revived me, and then I spent a few minutes rubbing in moisturizer and body lotion. I’d better start looking after my skin more carefully if I was going to have a boyfriend who was so much younger than I was. It didn’t seem likely that a bit of palm oil could help
enough
, but I was prepared to try pretty much anything—anything that I could afford—which wasn’t saying a lot.

As I stared in the mirror, examining the fine lines around my eyes and searching for any gray hairs, I noticed a small, oval bruise above my left breast. Oh, my God! A hickey! I hadn’t had one of those in years! Well, make that over a decade. In fact I wasn’t completely sure that I’d
ever
had one. What was that boy’s name who’d asked me out the semester before I met David? Kevin? Colin? I remembered he’d tried to make out with me in the movie theatre, but I’d been more interested in watching the film.

I made a mental note to remind Sebastian that biting was out until we’d got to New York. Pity.

When I’d finished drying my hair with the towel, I laid out David’s uniform for work. I hoped it would avoid, or at least delay, the next fight for as long as possible. Needs must.

He was just beginning to stir when I started making breakfast. I banged around the kitchen as
loudly as possible, taking out some of my frustration on the frying pan and kitchen sink, feeling his whiskey-soured eyes glaring at me balefully.

“Good morning, David. Are you feeling up to some breakfast?” I asked breezily.

“Just coffee,” he said sulkily, then added, “Thank you.”

I nearly dropped the plate I was carrying, staring at him in disbelief. I couldn’t remember the last time he’d thanked me for anything. I wondered what had brought on that outbreak of civility. It was too weird. Still, it was better than being snarled at, which was usually how he behaved when he was hung-over. Wonders would never cease.

The polite entente was fairly short-lived. He left the house without speaking to me again, for which I was inordinately grateful.

The sun had broken through a layer of thin cloud and the gloom of San Diego in June was promising to be another glorious day. My heart felt curiously light—and I knew what would be perfect. I texted Sebastian immediately, knowing he was waiting to hear from me.

*
Park in 20? Bring your boardshorts! *

His reply made me laugh.

* Isn’t it bedtime? *

* No! 20 mins? *

* ok :) *

I changed into my bikini and pulled on a pair of shorts and strappy t-shirt, then ran downstairs to make an
enormous
picnic. I knew he wouldn’t have gotten himself any breakfast or, even if he had, he’d still be starving by lunchtime.

As an afterthought I picked up my laptop and notebook and tossed them in the trunk of the car. I still had some notes to type up and, more than ever, I needed the money from the articles that
City Beat
was prepared to pay me for. Besides, now I had a membership to the country club, I may as well use it. Of course, there were also the ancillary benefits of the locker room to be considered; if it happened to be empty again, well, who knew what might happen.

Sebastian was sitting on the curb in his usual place, my dear sweet punk.

“We’re going surfing?”

The hope and surprise were equally evident in his voice.

“Why not? It’s a beautiful day. Maybe you can teach me some more moves.”

“I liked the moves you taught me last night.”

“Sebastian!”

He shrugged. “It’s true.”

“Well, maybe. We’ll have to see if that locker room is free later.”

He groaned. “Oh, man, that was hot!”

I couldn’t disagree with that assessment.

We drove with the windows down and Sebastian chose another jazz station to listen to. I was fairly sure that his interest in opera was just to please me. It was really rather cute.

I parked next to the same surf shack just north of La Jolla. It was aptly named, being so ramshackle, it looked as if it might tip over the cliff with the faintest gust of breeze.

The owner recognized us immediately—either that or he used the same patter on everyone.

“Hey, sugar, long time no see! You want to rent another board?”

“Yes, please,” I said politely, elbowing Sebastian in the ribs as he scowled at the man. “And two shorties.”

“I’m good,” muttered Sebastian. “Just a shortie for her.”

“Pity,” said the owner, sizing me up, “I bet you look great in a bikini.”

I paid quickly, leaving my car keys again as surety, and pushed Sebastian out of the shop before he decided to start something. The owner grinned at me and winked. When he slid me my change, I saw that he’d written his phone number on one of the bills.

Classy. Ugh.

What kind of guy hit on someone when they were with their boyfriend? You wouldn’t find a woman doing … and then I thought of Brenda. Yes, she was definitely the kind of woman who would do
exactly
that.

I wondered if it was worth keeping the surf shack man’s number to pass on to her; he was quite attractive in that so-laidback-he-was-almost-horizontal sort of way. And I knew for a fact she liked surfers. I really wished he hadn’t written his cell number on a ten dollar note. Oh, well, I’d just have to use it for a tip somewhere. A large tip.

Sebastian carried the heavy board down to the beach and swam out with me. I didn’t know how he could stand the water without a wetsuit—it felt cold to me. He just laughed and said he was used to it.

I wobbled about and fell off more times than I could count, but I also managed to get several rides where I rode the board all along the green water in front of the breaking wave. Sebastian was wonderfully encouraging and I felt very proud of myself.

We’d been playing in the surf for nearly an hour when a familiar looking van parked alongside my battered old Ford and Ches strolled down to the beach, his sleek, lightweight twin-tail thruster under one arm.

I nudged Sebastian and his happy expression vanished.

“Let’s go say hi,” I suggested.

He shrugged, but followed me as I caught a wave to the beach.

“Hi, Ches,” I said pleasantly, as I dragged my heavy board onto the sand.

“Hi, Mrs. … Caroline,” he said, looking warily at Sebastian. “I didn’t know you could surf.”

“Sebastian is teaching me.”

“Yeah, we don’t spend all our time fucking,” Sebastian said aggressively, folding his arms across his chest.

I cringed and felt my cheeks redden. Apart from anything else, he was such a hypocrite.

Ches winced and fiddled with the leash on his board.

“I still have trouble making the turns,” I said, desperately trying to lighten the tense atmosphere.

“Yeah, well, you were looking pretty good out there,” muttered Ches.

“Why don’t you guys go have some fun; I’m ready for a rest. Sebastian, take my board.”

I thrust it toward him, giving him very little choice in the matter. He gazed at me mulishly then snatched up the board and paddled out.

Ches stared helplessly for a second, murmured something inaudible, and followed him. I watched for a while, hoping that they’d work it out somehow, then peeled off the wetsuit and stretched out on my beach towel. The sun was deliciously warm on my chilly skin and I was soon dozing peacefully, full of happy non-thoughts. Besides, I hadn’t been getting a lot of sleep lately.

I was woken abruptly by something very cold dripping on me. I squinted into the sun to see Sebastian grinning down at me. My heart lurched suddenly—it was so much like the first day we’d met. So much had happened since then: I was barely the same person. Was he?

At least Sebastian looked happier now.

“Hey, baby, did I wake you up?”

“Sort of—not really. Did you have fun?”

He shrugged. “It was okay. Waves aren’t great today. Wind’s onshore, so it’s pretty mushy. It was more fun with you.”

I shivered as he lay down next to me.

“Ugh! You’re all cold and clammy!”

“I could warm you up,” he said suggestively, running his hand across my stomach and leaning over me.

I pushed him off.

“Not here!”

I glanced up to see an embarrassed Ches desperately trying to find something else to look at other than his best friend getting it on with a married woman.

“Behave!” I said severely, frowning at Sebastian.

He just grinned at me with the same irritating air of insouciance. God! He could be infuriating.

I sat up and flicked his wrist away as he tried to lay a possessive hand on my thigh. I reached into my bag and pulled on my t-shirt. I thought Ches might feel slightly more comfortable if I was wearing a few more clothes, and there was that damn hickey, too. In truth, Ches’s level of comfort mostly depended on whether or not his friend would quit behaving like an ass.

“Ches, would you like some sandwiches? I’ve made more than enough.”

“Yeah, that would be great, Caroline,” he replied quietly.

His eyes flickered nervously to Sebastian who was acting like a sulky teenager. Okay, maybe he wasn’t acting—he
was
a sulky teenager. I sighed. He was spoiling our lovely day: it wasn’t Ches’s fault that he’d turned up at the same beach as us. We should just be thankful it was Ches and not any other of Sebastian’s surfing buddies.

Over lunch, relations began to thaw. Sebastian stopped trying to show off, and Ches began to relax. Food was proving to be a universal panacea for men’s ill tempers. I was relieved—the last thing I wanted to do was come between Sebastian and his best friend. And, if things went badly, he’d need all the friends he could get. I shivered at the thought.

After our increasingly enjoyable picnic, Sebastian insisted on returning my board and shortie to the surf shack, and
I
insisted that he ride to the country club in the van with Ches.

“I’ll see you there soon enough,” I pointed out, cutting off his protest. “Please, tesoro!”

He kissed me hungrily and this time I knew it wasn’t an act. When we could bear to stop, he leaned his forehead against mine.

“Bye, Caro,” he said softly.

I kissed him on the lips and watched him climb into Ches’s van.

He was right about one thing—we were always saying goodbye.

When I arrived at the country club, my grim mood turned into something much darker. A girl in a
very
skimpy bikini was lying on a sun lounger by the pool.

Brenda fucking Wiseman.

CHAPTER 15

Brenda looked up and frowned as I settled myself at a table under a sun umbrella and fired up the laptop.

It was clear from her confused expression that she recognized me, she just couldn’t remember from where. I didn’t have any plans on helping her out with that—the less she connected me with Sebastian, the happier I’d be. In fact, the smart thing to do would be to pack up and go home for that very reason.

Even though I’d only just arrived, I should leave—maybe if I could just pretend that I’d forgotten something, I could go without drawing too much attention.

Quietly, I closed the laptop’s lid and slipped it into my shoulder bag even though the poor machine was still grumbling through its start-up routine. I stood up to go but I was ten damn seconds too late. Sebastian was walking toward me in his country club uniform, a huge smile on his face. You would have thought he hadn’t seen me in days, not just a few minutes. I felt exactly the same.

I flicked my eyes to Brenda then stared at the floor, but he didn’t seem to be able to read my mind, which, at that precise moment, was extremely inconvenient of him.

“Hi!” he said, happily. Then he frowned. “Are you going somewhere?”

I was like a deer caught in headlights from the juggernaut that was Brenda Wiseman—and I was about to get squashed flat. Her eyes swiveled toward us and, from the look on
her
face, I was pretty darned certain that
she
had super-powers, probably X-ray vision, the way she was ogling his body.

“Hey, Seb!” she sang. “Oh, I
love
your uniform! It’s, like, so cute!”

Her hysterical cheerleader whine made me want to hold her head in the pool’s deep end and watch until her pedicured feet kicked out a tarantella.

Sebastian’s expression morphed from happy to irritated and then to slightly worried. He was right to be concerned—his acting abilities were even worse than mine. The two of us being in the proximity of the preternaturally observant Brenda, was a sure recipe for disaster. Possibly hers, as I might be forced to rip her tongue out of her head and feed it to the nearest tiger shark as bait.

I still thought that my best plan was to exit stage left at a convenient moment, although that meant leaving Sebastian in the clutches of the harpy. Unobtrusively, I sank back down in my seat and retrieved the confused laptop from my bag.

“Um, no,” I said softly, trying not to look too befuddled, “I was just going to get … a coffee.”

For a second Brenda glared at me then her gaze became rather condescending.

“Oh, I thought I recognized you—you were at the picnic on Sunday, Mrs.…?”

“Caroline Wilson,” I supplied politely. “And you are…?”

“Brenda Wiseman,” she said, raising her eyebrows, clearly believing she was unforgettable. How right she was.

Sebastian’s haunted eyes pedaled between us.

“Nice to see you again, Brenda,” I said, matching her for insincerity.

She adjusted her tiny bikini top, her tried and tested method for attracting Sebastian’s attention. This time it failed spectacularly; he was still staring intently at me. God, I hoped somebody tried to drown themselves soon—maybe that would snap him out of it—although it was doubtful.

Brenda’s eyes narrowed—she sensed competition, so now she was going in for the kill. While Sebastian’s gaze was still fixed on me, I saw her fiddle with one of her earrings and slip it into her purse. What was she up to?

I was about to find out.

“Seb?” she whined. “I lost an earring; I think it came off in the deep end. Would you, like, dive down and find it for me?”

Wow, she really was shameless! She’d deployed the poor, helpless female act to get her own way
and
she was about to make him take his shirt off—all in one short sentence. I would never have thought of that: I had a lot to learn.

Sebastian frowned at her.

“Are you sure you lost it in the deep end?” He stared at her accusingly. “Your hair is dry.”

She flushed. “I’ve been here a while … I was swimming when I noticed it had gone. Please, take a look?”

“Okay,” he said, staring down into the pool.

I saw a look of triumph in her expression which soon changed to lust as Sebastian pulled off his t-shirt and stepped out of his flip-flops.

It was really hard to imagine that they’d dated for ten whole months. Even harder to imagine that she hadn’t ripped off his clothes and stolen his virginity at some point during that period. Had she only become so obviously desperate once he’d broken up with her or had she always been like this? I reminded myself of the reason why they’d broken up in the first place—she’d slept with someone else. Perhaps Sebastian had had a good grasp on his self-control when he was with her—just not with me, I concluded smugly.

Across the pool, I saw two women of Shirley’s age nudge each other and adjust their sunglasses for a better look.

Big tips from horny, older women.

Jealousy was such a new and unaccustomed emotion, that I had to remind myself my homicidal thoughts were something of an over-reaction. Except, perhaps, where Brenda was concerned.

I was relieved that the nail marks I’d inflicted on him last night—or very early this morning—had, mostly, faded. Sebastian wasn’t the only one who had to be careful not to get carried away.

With a grace that took my breath away, he dived into the deep end and stayed under for half a minute, searching for the earring that Evil Brenda pretended she’d lost. He came up for air then dove down again. Twice more he swept the bottom of the pool but, of course, found nothing.

Eventually he gave up and pulled himself out of the pool, right next to where Brenda was sitting, the vixen trying to look all helpless and grateful. His swim-trunks clung to his body as the water poured off him, and his skin sparkled in the sun, droplets reflecting light off his chest and arms.

Brenda looked like she’d died and gone to heaven. Although … a thought occurred to me, hadn’t she seen it all before? Hadn’t he ever taken her surfing with him? I’d have to remember to ask him. Then I slapped the idea down—I’d promised myself to quit plaguing him with questions that were only going to piss off both of us.

The two women across the pool were grinning at each other and I swear they gave each other a high five. I could see Sebastian was going to have a long afternoon of being asked to retrieve lost jewelry from the pool. Or maybe, if those cocktails the women drank were alcoholic, he’d end up having to save them both when they threw themselves in the deep end, hoping that he’d give them mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.

“I’m sorry,” he said at last, “I couldn’t find it. It probably got sucked into the filter system. I’ll report it to the manager and he can ask the pool guy to look out for it. But it won’t be until tomorrow morning now.”

Brenda shrugged.

“Whatever. So, did you decide which school you’re going to go to yet? UCSD, right? What classes are you taking?”

“I’m working, Bren,” he said, not very subtly.

She pouted. “It’s not
that
busy.”

He frowned. “I’m not supposed to chat to members.”

“I won’t tell if you won’t,” she said, smiling up at him.

I felt desperately sorry for Sebastian; he was utterly hopeless at trying to blow her off. He really didn’t have a clue. He was far too nice for his own good.

I wondered if he’d appreciate my help—maybe if I attacked her with a pool chair and beat her into putty, she’d be distracted enough to leave him alone. On the other hand, that would definitely draw unwanted attention.

Instead, I tried to focus on the small screen in front of me, but I couldn’t help noticing that Sebastian’s eyes kept flicking nervously in my direction.

Brenda was getting irritated that her wiles weren’t working; and she was bound to notice that he kept looking at me, not her.

At that moment Ches walked over to Sebastian and spoke to him quietly. Whatever he said, Sebastian was hugely and obviously relieved. He picked up his uniform polo-shirt and pulled it over his still-wet body, slipped on his flip-flops and walked off, glancing just once at me and smiling.

But it was enough: Brenda had seen the look.

Her eyes narrowed dangerously and I couldn’t help a nervous swallow. Then I straightened my back and decided that I wasn’t going to roll over and let her walk all over me.

“Where’s he gone?” Brenda snapped at Ches.

“We’ve been told to swap duties,” he lied casually.

I knew for a fact that Sebastian was supposed to be poolside his whole shift.

“They want him in the gym,” continued Ches, sounding utterly convincing. I was glad he was on our side—on Sebastian’s side.

Then he looked at me and grinned, “Hey, there, Mrs. Wilson! How are you?”

“I’m just fine, thank you, Ches,” I said, smiling at him gratefully. “How’s your mom and dad?”

We slipped into our double act as if we’d been practicing it all our lives.

“Good, thanks. Are you writing another article?”

“I thought the staff weren’t supposed to chat to members,” Brenda muttered in a sulky tone.

Ches pretended not to hear her and spoke to me for several minutes before taking up his place in the lifeguard’s chair.

I was totally unprepared for Brenda’s next line of attack.

“So, you’re, like, a writer?” she said, coming and standing next to me, one hand on her hip.

I glanced up and saw Ches’s fleeting look of sympathy.

“Trying to be,” I said politely.

“Aren’t you, like, kind of old to be starting out?”

I was astonished by her rudeness.

“I don’t think it’s ever too late to try something new.”

She sniffed and started reading my notes over my shoulder. I’d had enough.

I closed the laptop and looked her in the eye. “Is there something I can help you with, Barbara?”

“It’s
Brenda!
”

“Oh, is it?”

“You knew Seb when he was a kid, right?” she said, not the least bit perturbed by my overt hostility.

“Slightly,” I acknowledged.

“So, you’ve known him, like, forever?”

If she said ‘like’ again, I might have to beat her over the head with a book of English grammar. Or I might just do it anyway—the idea was undeniably attractive.

I smiled coolly at her and she looked a little confused. “Oh, sorry, Barb … Brenda. Was that a question?”

She nodded briskly.

“No, not really,” I replied shortly. I wasn’t going to give her any information I didn’t need to.

“You know his parents, right?”

“Slightly,” I repeated, knowing that would aggravate her more than anything.

“Seb and I have been dating since tenth grade,” she lied blandly.

“How nice,” I said, grinding my teeth. “Dear me! Shirley must have been mistaken when she told me you two had broken up.”

She flicked her honey blonde hair over her shoulder. “We were on a break, but he wants to get back with me.”

She spoke with such an air of conviction that I was rather in awe of her.
How
did she lie so easily and with such confidence? I should take lessons from her—especially as I had another three months of living with David to get through.

The reminder was a sharp one, and I’d had enough of her games.

“How nice for you. Well, it’s been lovely chatting, but if you’ll excuse me, I have deadlines.”

Now she looked mad. It turned out that I was much better at blowing her off than Sebastian was. What’s more,
it had been fun
.

She huffed angrily, grabbed her towel and headed indoors. I suspected she would be stalking Sebastian in the gym. I looked up at Ches. He shrugged and shook his head helplessly. Nope, he didn’t know what to do about Barbara … um … Brenda either.

I decided to wander in to get that mythical coffee after all. I left my laptop on the table and Ches cheerfully acknowledged that he’d keep an eye on it. Pulling on my t-shirt and shorts I headed for the bar area but before I got there I could hear a woman’s angry voice.

“It’s not appropriate for you to be chatting to your girlfriend while you’re working, Mr. Hunter.”

“She’s not my…”

A middle-aged Hispanic woman in a neat pant-suit was chewing a piece out of Sebastian. My immediate reaction was to rush in and defend him. Instead, I watched silently from the sidelines. Story of my life.

“We have rules here for very good reasons. We don’t want our members injuring themselves when they’re in the gym—that’s why we have staff on hand to instruct them in the correct use of the equipment. If you’re chatting to your girlfriend, Mr. Hunter, that’s when accidents will happen. I take a very dim view of that … a very dim view indeed.”

“She’s not my girlfriend, ma’am, she’s a member and…”

“Well … I’ve made my views clear, Mr. Hunter. And should any other of your
friends
decide to come and chat, I’m sure you’ll dissuade them from that. Am I making myself clear?”