The Sister-In-Law(18)

‘Okay.’ I smiled, getting up from the arm of Dan’s chair. ‘I think we all want a work-free, carefree holiday, so can we just talk sun cream and gin?’ I asked. ‘And, talking of which, who wants another drink?’

‘What a lovely idea,’ Joy said, relief flooding her voice as Ella glanced at Jamie who put a steadying hand on her arm.

Everyone wanted another drink, and as I poured and passed them round, I tried not to show any signs of the bashing I’d just been given in front of everyone. I hoped this was just early teething problems, people getting to know and understand each other. I hoped that maybe there was some simple explanation for what I’d seen with Joy’s earrings. Maybe once I’d got to know Ella better, we could think back to this first meeting and laugh about it? I hoped that we could be friends, sisters even. I had no family of my own, that’s why the Taylor’s were so precious to me.

After my father was killed, any semblance of family was obliterated. I was old enough to remember my father, and I knew my life would have been richer if he’d been around longer. Even as a little girl, he’d tell me stories and share ideas I was perhaps too young to grasp the full meaning of, but later I appreciated his life lessons. One of my favourite ‘stories’ was the one about the butterfly. ‘Tell me about the butterfly, Dad,’ I’d ask. And he’d smile and tell me how a butterfly flapping its wings in New Mexico could eventually cause a hurricane in China. I loved this idea and we played this game where we added our own theories of what might happen all over the world. I know now it was more than a game: My dad was also teaching me – telling me to be responsible for my actions, and be aware of the impact of what I did. ‘Life is about consequences, Clare. Everything you do will have an effect on someone, somewhere, just like that butterfly,’ he’d say. I didn’t understand what he was telling me then, but as I grew older, it made sense to me. And last summer, after everything that happened, I was made even more aware of the consequences of our actions, how the faintest flutter of a butterfly’s wings can lead to unimaginable things.





CHAPTER SEVEN





In the few days before Ella and Jamie had arrived, I’d enjoyed going down onto the terrace each morning at about six thirty, before anyone else was up. It was perfect, so quiet, the pool and the trees so still, the birds slowly awakening, everything new and fresh and untouched. I’d make a pot of real Italian coffee on the stove, grab my book and a chair and just sit there enjoying the quiet. It was a part of the day that felt precious to me, so on the morning after Ella and Jamie arrived, I couldn’t help but be a little disappointed to step outside with my coffee to see Ella already on the terrace. She looked stunning in coral pink Lycra and, what’s more, she was bending over touching her toes – something I hadn’t been able to do since about 1998.

‘Oh, I didn’t expect anyone to be here,’ I said, and Ella immediately shot up.

‘You made me jump, Clare,’ she laughed.

‘Sorry,’ I said, sitting down at the table, putting my coffee down, my book already waiting.

She looked great, no bags under her eyes, and even without make-up, her skin was flawless, not a line or crease. Her nails were now shiny cappuccino, and I couldn’t help it, my eyes strayed down to mine, what could only be described as an angry coral. The colour had looked lovely and summery when I bought it from Boots and painted it on a couple of nights ago, but her sophisticated, shiny cappuccino polish put mine to shame.

‘Lovely here, isn’t it?’ she said, standing in front of me, taut tummy, hands on small hips.

‘Yes, we’re so lucky. Joy and Bob book a holiday every year and always invite us along.’ I smiled.

‘That’s nice,’ she said. Then she bent her head down and said in a low voice, ‘Are they okay, Joy and Bob? They seem nice but…’

‘Yes, they’re lovely, really kind.’

‘Joy can be a bit overwhelming, can’t she?’



‘Yes, but once you get to know her—’

‘Is she a bit bossy?’ She smiled.

I had to laugh; Ella had spotted that straight away. ‘Yes, I suppose she is just a bit bossy, and she can take over if you let her – but she’s kind, and really supportive. She’s fun too and there are a lot worse mothers-in-law than Joy. My friend’s motherin-law, she—’ But before I could finish, Ella had walked away, to the other side of the patio and, when she got there, closed her eyes and stood with her arms out. It seemed a bit rude, but clearly she didn’t want a gossipy chat about my friend’s motherin-law. Oh well, I thought, at least I could get on with reading.

‘You doing yoga?’ I asked, as I turned a page in my book.

‘No, I’m baking a bloody cake.’

I looked up, surprised.



She opened her eyes. ‘Yeah, I’m doing yoga, Clare.’ She smiled, rolling her eyes. I nodded and smiled back – it was just her sense of humour, again. ‘What’s that you’re reading?’ she asked, now reaching forward, stretching her whole body.

‘Oh, it’s actually a book I found in the villa, about the history of the place.’

‘It looks good. I wonder if I could nick it for my bookshelf at home? Joy wouldn’t mind, would she?’ She was standing now, arms behind her head, tight little bronze tummy pushed out.