Betrayed(29)

He touched the welt. “Are you satisfied now?”

Tears spiralled to her eyes. She sagged, struggled to control her voice. “You bastard! I’m through. I’m going home now.”

“This is no time for tantrums. Valencia is in a few days.”

“Fuck Valencia!”

***

The window of the hotel room was thrown wide open and she stood by it to cool. The sun had gone and soon it would be dark. For now twilight softened things, but it was still hot, hot and humid.

Heat in England was so different from Spain. Spain had a drier quality, which made it more acceptable. Humidity made English heat almost unbearable, but UK had twilight. In Spain, twilight was almost non-existent. Twilight brought comfort.

Sea-waves crashed, spraying high into the air. On the sand a handful of youngsters still played ball, accompanied by peals of laughter.

It seemed forever since Kat last managed to laugh. She stared as the children played. Had it really been a lifetime since she’d been carefree?

She was besieged with attacks of conscience, though his actions justified her walking out. Night was worse, with nothing left to focus on. Betrayal could be crippling. It ate away at you. The two people closest had deceived her and she had reacted accordingly. She wasn’t proud though. Rafael might be guilty, but her actions may well ruin the company, and dozens of innocent lives. To ruin a fellow human might be the ultimate revenge, but to take a business down was something quite different. How many lives would be wrecked?

Valencia would turn into a disaster.

She’d come to this hotel to leave the tawdry episode, to the place she’d spent time as a youngster… yet the chapter wouldn’t go away.

Memories here were good, probably the happiest place she could think of, and she felt warm and comfortable. They’d been a family then, mum, dad and her; they’d dug sandcastles; paddled in the sea and watched Punch and Judy. On Sundays they’d gone to the bandstand and listened to men in uniform blow trumpets until they were red in the face.

Her leaving Las Modas Ibéricas must have knocked them for six. Rafael’s reputation would be in tatters. His Papá would no doubt lay all the blame at his feet. Serve him right.

She heard squeals from the beach and she saw a lad chasing a girl. He caught and kissed her then collapsed into the sand and pulled her with him in a fit of giggles. They could only have been thirteen or fourteen. Afterward, the girl pushed the boy away with embarrassment.

Kat touched her lips unconsciously; how many times had Rafael kissed her? Perhaps she’d presented a challenge, proof that he could still pull whatever woman he wished.

More fool her, she’d fallen for it; there was no doubt he’d won.

Kat couldn’t believe how easily she’d been duped, but persuading people was one of his skills. He was a manager of people; an accomplished manipulator, and proud of it.

For a while she had hurtled out of control, a traveller caught on a train with no stops, unable to get off without getting hurt. It had been a hell of a whirlwind ride, but at last she’d jumped off.

She had forgotten relationships were out of the question. Her emotions had become confused, she had let sentiments take over, had broken her rules.

Spume flew into the air creating curtains of mist. The children had moved further along the sand and the only sound was the wash of heavy waves.

Rafael had been the cause of his own downfall, of course. He had forgotten to get her to sign the binding contract that would have kept her tightly secured to Las Modas Ibéricas. He perhaps hadn’t thought it necessary. Maybe he’d trusted her.

Trust was for fools. She’d trusted him, and where had it got her?

How was he reacting? Intense anger she supposed; he was probably sitting at the villa, plotting how to get back at her. Let him. Nothing he could do would affect her; she’d already been hurt too much… or was she being naïve, was there more to come?

Kat wafted her face with a magazine. She walked away from the window, slipped off her flimsy clothes, dug out a bikini from the drawer, and wriggled into it. Over it she slipped a short yellow beach jacket, put on a pair of leather flip-flops, and made her way down the hotel swimming pool.

High walls protected the area from wind. During the day an artificial waterfall usually cascaded into the pool, but now it was evening it was turned off. Only an occasional plop of water came from it.

She dived in.

As she surfaced a woman came over and said, “What’s the water like?”

Kat wiped water from her face. “Great.”

“I think I might join you?”

“And why not?”

The middle-aged woman slipped into the pool. “I enjoy it like this, when there’s hardly anyone else around.”

“Same here. I feel as if I can breathe. Too many people around make me claustrophobic.”

Kat swam a few lengths then floated on her back staring at the silent waterfall with its slash of purple petunias stark against white limestone. It reminded her of the bougainvillea at the villa.

“A penny for them.”

“Sorry?”

“Thinking about a man, I suppose.” The woman swam to her side. “I know that look.”

“I suppose.”

“Take advice from an experienced loser. Don’t let him spoil your life. No one is worth that.”

Kat scraped hair from her face. “You’re right. I knew exactly what he was like. I promised I wouldn’t get involved, but it made no difference.”

“It’s always the same, pet. Good girls get hurt, bad ones get away with it.”

Kat smiled thinly. Good girl? Had her actions really been justified or was she one of the bad ones? Between them, Rafael and Francine had destroyed her, but now she had probably destroyed a lot of others besides him. Revenge didn’t seem so sweet now.

After a shower, she went for a stroll along the shore. A light wind had risen, and clouds scudded, but there was still moonlight.

She slipped off her sandals. Sand scrunched between her toes, hard and gritty. She didn’t mind. Hurt didn’t seem to matter any longer, and she did it quite deliberately so it bit into her skin.

A gust of wind tossed her hair, and long strands curled around her face. She held her arms wide apart for a few minutes, letting wind tug at her, then changed her mind and jogged along the edge of the rough surf. Water ran over her bare feet, stinging where sand had chafed her skin. She didn’t care.

Pain seemed fitting. Pain was reality.

She jumped over a stranded crab but missed her footing, rolled in the sand, and lay with her arms akimbo for a few moments. She’d lain like this with Rafael on Xabiá beach. The sun had been hospitable, their lives full, and there’d been no hint of treachery.

She was submerged in recollections, when surf swirled over her. Kat gasped, sat up, scraped wet hair and seawater from her eyes. For whatever silly reason, this Rafael-thing made her feel she was in mourning. She was fed up of it and resolved that from tomorrow, he would be wiped from her mind.

Tomorrow would be the first day of the rest of her life.

On her way back to the hotel Billy Mellor caught her and her heart sank. He eyed her dripping clothes with a smirk. “I’ve been trying to track you down. Quite the little hermit, aren’t you, and a wet little hermit at that.”

“Mister Mellor,” she said frostily. “What an unpleasant surprise. And how have you traced me here?”

“Didn’t you realise. We journalists work from secret covens. Our labyrinth spreads everywhere. We know all, see all, and tell all. Nothing is safe from our investigations.”

She swept straggles of hair from her face. “And what you don’t know you make up.”

He shrugged. “And I’ve been pondering some of life’s little mysteries.”

“How nice for you. Do we call you Einstein from now on?”

“I got to wondering why a rising celebrity would suddenly uproot and bury herself in a quiet, English, backwater… quaint as it may be.”

“Simply because it is quaint.”

“Fashion houses are generally in panic when preparing a collection, so why aren’t you panicking?”

“Perhaps I feel someone else should take the strain?”

“Every show I’ve ever covered has been hectic, like the designer has gone berserk, and you’re the designer.”

Kat cleared her throat. “Let’s just say I feel like a change.”

He took a notepad from his pocket. “Let’s just say bullshit.”

Kat sighed. “You’re entitled to your opinion.”

“And shall we say that my considered opinion is that our friend Saval has been up to something.”

“Do you ever consider an opinion?”

“What has he been up to?”

”And why do you always assume the worst?” Kat strode off.

Billy followed closely behind. He said, “What has he done to drive you away from such glitter.”