Read The Holiday Online

Authors: Erica James

Tags: #Fiction, #General

The Holiday (40 page)

She shook her head, transfixed. ‘No, please, carry on.’
‘Well, the two young men paradoxically became good friends. They left college: one went on to become the disgustingly successful businessman you now know and love, and the other went from bad to worse. Still haunted by the death of his young friend, he opened his mouth and poured into it a magic brew called Instant Gratification, not seeing the label underneath that said “Danger and Self-delusion This Way”. It was potent stuff. So long as he was full of the magic brew his world didn’t seem so bad. But the more he drank, the more he wanted. Then one day, he was offered some better magic. Cocaine. Oh, how he loved this stuff. And how it loved him. They couldn’t get enough of each other. They became inseparable. But before long, he realised he was in seriously deep shit. But, behold! Help was to hand. Theo, his fairy godmother, came to his rescue, carried him off to a clinic where a weird man called Bones with a sugar dependency waved a magic wand, and taught him to see the error of his ways. And surprisingly enough, from that point on, everybody lived happily ever after. Well, more or less.’
In the silence that followed, Izzy kept her eyes ahead of her on the curved disc of moon that was hanging in the clear night sky. She didn’t trust herself to turn and look at Mark. She had found his story, despite his self-deprecating tone, so poignant that she was worried she might embarrass him by crying. She knew, though, that what she was feeling for him - for all the pain he must have suffered as a child — was mixed up with the confusion of emotions she had from her own childhood. Though their experiences were different, she could relate to him. She felt also that he might be one of the few people who would truly understand the sense of could-have-done-better that had always been with her. That dreadful sense of disappointment that had followed her all her life.
‘Have I embarrassed you?’ he asked, breaking into her thoughts. ‘I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel uncomfortable.’
Hearing the touching concern in his soft husky voice did her no good. Her throat clenched and the tears started, and there seemed no way of stopping them. ‘I’m sorry,’ she mumbled, her head still turned from him, ‘it’s my own fault. I shouldn’t have kept on at you. It serves me right.’ And still the tears came. Oh, why wouldn’t they stop? And why did she never have a tissue when she needed one? She sensed him moving beside her, then felt the firm but gentle pressure of his hand on hers.
‘Do I detect a fellow-sufferer of self-recrimination?’
She sniffed as discreetly as she could and looked at him. ‘I don’t suppose you’ve got a tissue, have you?’
He dug around in his trouser pockets.
‘Voilà!
You’re in luck. An unused handkerchief.’
She took it from him and pressed it to her eyes.
‘You can use it for your nose as well,’ he said. ‘I don’t mind. There’ll be no extra charge.’
She managed a small smile. ‘Then you’d best cover your ears, this won’t be very ladylike.’
‘Don’t mind me, just blast away.’
She did and felt much better for it. ‘Sorry about that. I kept thinking of you as that young boy. It must have been so awful for you, blaming yourself like that. How did your friend die?’
‘A boating accident. We didn’t know what we were doing. He drowned and I survived, but wished I hadn’t. As simple and as complicated as that.’
‘Is that why you never go swimming, or out in Theo’s boat with him?’
He nodded. ‘Being in or on water freaks the hell out of me.’
She frowned. ‘But didn’t you say you live by the sea?’
‘I didn’t say I was sane, now, did I? It’s a personal challenge I set myself a long time ago. Was I up to it? Could I cope with such a tangible reminder?’
‘And can you?’
He seemed to hold this thought for a moment as he looked down at the dark water beneath them. He said, ‘I’m sitting here, aren’t I? So what’s your story? What nerve did I inadvertently tweak? Theo hinted that you didn’t have the Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm childhood.’
‘Something like that.’
‘Care to be more specific? After forcing my sordid past out of me, I think it’s the least you can do in return. Let’s call it share-and-tell time.’
She gave him a tiny shrug. ‘There’s not much to tell.’
His hand moved back to hers. ‘You sure about that?’
At his gentle persuasion, she told him about her mother, how terrified she had been of her, and of the death of the baby that had been such a destructive force within her family. She spoke about her father too. How she had quietly idolised him, and that it was only now that she realised just how angry she was that he hadn’t done more to help, not just her but her mother as well. She said, ‘I feel guilty that I feel so much anger towards him now that he’s dead. It doesn’t seem right.’
‘Forget any thought of what you think is right or wrong. Just acknowledge what you feel or it will continue to hold you back from enjoying the life you’re entitled to.’
‘Is that how you see me? Somebody who’s holding back?’
He gave her a reassuring smile. ‘Honest answer?’
‘Yes.’
‘I see two Izzies. One who doubts her strengths and talents because they’ve never been encouraged and, as a consequence, settles for the status quo because it’s safer that way. And then there’s this other Izzy, the one who’s perceptive, witty and just longing to break free and live dangerously. A woman who could do anything she wanted if she would only be generous enough to give herself the chance.’
‘If she were to let go of the past, you mean?’
‘Sounds easy enough, I know. But you’re talking to a man who knows better than most how much courage it takes to walk away from the only life you’ve ever allowed yourself ... or felt that you deserved.’
When she didn’t respond, Mark said, ‘So you know what this means, don’t you?’
‘What?’
‘It makes us a right couple of damaged goods sitting on the shelf of life’s patched-together casualties. But one thing’s for sure, we’re quite normal. Despite what you might think, everybody has something niggling away inside them. As the old REM song goes, ‘Everybody Hurts’.’
‘Even Theo?’
‘Well, maybe he’s the exception. Though he does have one rather pressing problem at the moment.’
‘Really? Is that why he’s gone back to Athens again?’
He looked at her closely, trying to figure out whether she was being deliberately obtuse. He decided she wasn’t. ‘Izzy, you’re his problem.’
‘Me?’
‘He’s genuinely very fond of you and doesn’t know how to convince you that he’s serious.’
She said nothing but slid her gaze down and absorbed herself in examining the stitching on the hem of her shorts.
‘Look, tell me to butt out if you want, but what do you feel for him?’
She raised her head. ‘He’s lovely, truly he is. He’s funny, kind, and - and very attractive, but he ...’ Her voice trailed off.
‘But what?’
‘He frightens me.’
‘Theo? He’s as harmless as a wet sponge. He’d never hurt you, Izzy, I swear it. I’d stake my last Rolo on it.’
She shook her head. ‘I didn’t mean it in that way. It’s difficult to explain, but I can’t fully relax when I’m with him. I keep thinking that I could never make the grade with him. Take the time when he kissed me that night he took me out for dinner. It was hopeless. I was so tense, all I could think of while he was kissing me was a mental checklist: arms engaged, lips puckered, nose to the side. Stop laughing, it’s true. That’s exactly what I was doing.’
‘I’m not laughing.’
‘Then what’s that tee-hee sound coming from your mouth?’
‘It’s disbelief.’
She gave him a shove and he shoved her back.
‘You know, if you could get over this kissing problem, you’d see Theo in an altogether different light.’
‘Don’t tell me, all I need is an intensive course of kissing therapy. But believe me, I’ve had it with therapists, whatever their speciality.’
‘How so?’
‘When my boyfriend was trying to find a way to leave me, he insisted that we saw a therapist. She was very nice, but — ’
‘But you didn’t trust her, right?’
‘Correct. I didn’t trust her at all. In fact I was convinced she was in cahoots with Alan. I was quite rude to her.’
‘You couldn’t have been as rude to her as I was to Bones. I threatened to kill him. There, I’ve shocked you. You’ll think twice now about sitting on these rocks again with me late at night and all alone.’
She smiled. ‘But shocking people is what you do best. Your books tell me that much.’
‘I don’t only live to shock people.’
‘What else do you do, then?’
‘Well, I’m a fair cook, so I tell myself. Chicken tikka masala on a Friday night being a locally acclaimed wonder of mine.’
‘Mm ... Anything else you’re good at?’
‘You want more? There’s no satisfying some folk. Hey, but wait, I’m also great at kidnapping people from parties. Yeah, I can see you’re impressed by that.’
‘Well, close to it.’
‘Do you want to go back and join the throng?’
‘Not really. Not when there’s a hairy-faced Pa Patterson trying to get a look down my front.’
‘Ah, so he was the one you were keen to avoid, was he? I’m glad to have been of use. But if I’d known it was going to turn into an all-night session I would have thought to bring some food down with us.’
‘Yes, for an expert kidnapper, that was a careless oversight on your part.’
‘Are you always this picky?’
‘Funnily enough, only with you.’
‘Oh, shucks, now you’re just trying to make me feel special.’
She laughed. ‘Have you ever thought of writing comedy?’
‘Is that a sneaky put-down?’
‘No, I was being serious. You’re very funny.’
‘I’ve been accused of many things, but having a sense of humour is not one of them.’
‘Well, I think you’re funny. You make me laugh.’
‘I also made you cry.’
‘So you did. It would have to be bittersweet comedy in that case.’
‘Okay, I’ll ring my editor tomorrow and give her the good news. “Sorry,” I’ll tell her, “but I’ve taken expert advice and I’m scrapping the winning formula and going for cheap laughs. I’m going to be the new King of Comedy!”’
‘You’d have to change the publicity shot of you on the back of the books and learn to lighten yourself up. No more scowling Prince of Darkness.’
‘I’m beginning to go off the idea already.’
‘I knew it. No staying power.’
‘That’s a bloke for you. First sign of a struggle and we’re off.’
They laughed companionably, then sat in silence while a ferry passed on the horizon, its diamond white lights shining in the darkness, the throbbing sound of its powerful engine reverberating across the water. When it had disappeared, Mark said, ‘What will you do about Theo?’
‘I don’t think I can do anything about him. I get the feeling he’s a law unto himself. The cooler I play it with him, the harder he pursues me. I’ve given him no encouragement, really I haven’t.’
‘I know that sometimes it seems you’d have to shoehorn him out of that massive ego of his, but you mustn’t be fooled by the exterior packaging. If you really got to know him you’d see that he’s as normal and down-to-earth as you and me.’
‘He wouldn’t thank you for saying that.’
No, he wouldn‘t, thought Mark. She was quite right. If Theo had a fault it was his vanity. He had never seen himself as normal and down-to-earth. Back in Durham he had always liked being the one who stood out from the crowd. And in the intervening years nothing had changed: he still enjoyed his good looks, his expensive clothes, the choice of luxurious homes, the flashy cars and, of course, the attention they drew. ‘So you don’t see it ever working between the two of you? Not even as a holiday romance?’
She pulled the toy arrow from the bandage around her ankle, placed it between them, and swung her feet so that the backs of her boots tapped lightly against the rocks they were sitting on. ‘No, I don’t. I’m not his sort, not at all. You know that, deep down, don’t you?’
‘Whoa, there, don’t go bringing me into this. This is between you and Theo.’
‘But it’s true. You must have seen him over the years with millions of girls, none of whom were like me.’
‘Hundreds, not millions. He’s not that good a catch.’
She gave him another playful shove and caught him with an elbow in the ribs.
He caught his breath, groaned and clasped his side. ‘Watch it, Izzy, that’s where I was stabbed.’
Her hands went to her face. ‘Oh, Mark, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?’
He opened his eyes slowly and grinned. ‘Had you going, there.’
‘Don’t ever do that to me again. You frightened me half to death.’ She raised her hand again to give him a playful slap, but he caught her wrist and held it tightly.
‘Oh, no, you don’t,’ he laughed, ‘once is quite enough.’ She laughed too, and in the soft moonlight, her face wreathed in smiles, it was the strangest thing, but he suddenly found himself entirely conscious of the moment. Without once raising his glance from Izzy’s face, he knew that the sky above them was a glorious canopy of velvety darkness, that the stars were bright and shining, that the moon was a perfectly sculptured half-disc of light. He was aware, too, that the breeze that had blown all day had dropped, and that the sea was calm, soundless and glassy. His senses told him it really was the most beautiful night.
Yet more beautiful than any of this was the girl beside him. As motionless as he was, she was staring back at him with steady, unblinking eyes: eyes that earlier had been so sad but which were now bright with some new emotion he wasn’t sure he recognised or understood. What he did understand, though, was his sudden desire to kiss her. Common sense told him not to do it. But when had he ever allowed common sense over the threshold of his intentions?

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