Rafa drove back up to the Polzanze. He took his time, taking pleasure from the lush countryside and cotton clouds that caught the wind and raced across the darkening sky like sailing boats. He was beginning to love it here, but most surprisingly of all, he was beginning to love Clementine.
He bit the inside of his cheek as he recalled how close he had come to kissing her. In any other time or place he would have swept her into his arms and kissed her days ago. He would have kissed her in the house that God forgot, he would have kissed her in the sea, he would have kissed her when she was furious with him and asking him to leave, and he would have kissed her many times since—countless opportunities, desire growing steadily stronger, but one thing standing in his way.
He kept his eyes on the road ahead and drove on.
30.
Marina and Grey were sitting at the kitchen table finishing supper when Clementine’s car drew up outside the hotel. She got out and stood awhile in the dark, mustering up the courage to face them. Moving in with Joe had been an act of defiance, but she admitted now that it had also been a cry for help. It hadn’t extracted the reaction she had hoped for. Or if it had, her father and stepmother hadn’t let their feelings show.
She thought of Rafa and the advice he had given her. It was time she talked to Marina. The English were great avoiders. They were happier plodding on pretending issues didn’t exist. Her family was worse than most. They had never discussed the past or opened up about the way they felt. But Rafa had given her the courage to do it. She would listen to her stepmother’s side of the story, accept it, then let it go.
She pulled her bag out of the boot and, with a deep breath, strode over to the stable block. Marina heard the door open and assumed it was Jake. When Clementine stood in the doorway, she was caught off guard.
Grey noticed her suitcase in the hall behind her. “Clementine!” he exclaimed happily. “How nice to see you.”
“Is everything all right?” Marina asked, reaching for her glass of wine.
“I’ve come home,” Clementine stated.
Marina knew her reaction was crucial if she didn’t want the girl running off again. “Do you want to talk about it?” she asked carefully.
“I broke off with Joe.”
“Come and sit down, darling. I think you need a drink, don’t you?” asked Grey, getting up to find her a glass.
“I should never have left in the first place.”
Marina noticed the heavy cloud that usually accompanied her everywhere was no longer in evidence. She had put down her sword and come in peace. “I’m so pleased you’re back,” she said truthfully. “I’m sorry you and Joe didn’t work out. That must be a great disappointment. But I’m happy you’re home.”
“It’s not a disappointment at all. I never cared about Joe. I never really cared about myself. But I do now.” A smile crept onto her face like a smug cat. “I see the world through different eyes. I’m never going to settle for second best again.”
Marina didn’t have to ask who was behind the change of perspective. Grey, however, was oblivious and frowned quizzically. “That’s good,” he said, and poured her a glass of Pinot Grigio.
“Marina, I’d like to talk to you alone. Do you mind, Daddy?”
“I’ll give her some fortification, then,” he said, replenishing Marina’s wine. The two women stood up.
“Let’s go outside,” Clementine suggested.
Marina refused to give in to temptation and catch her husband’s eye. She could feel his baffled stare. She assumed Clementine wanted to talk about Rafa and felt her heart swell with pleasure that the child was at last looking to her for guidance. She’d tell Grey later when they were alone.
“I’ll just get my coat,” she said, striding into the hall.
“Me, too. It’s a chilly evening, but it’s so beautiful. I want to sit under the stars.”
Grey did notice the change in her tone of voice, however; the way she said “beautiful” was different, as if she said it with her heart and really meant it.
The night was deep and dark but as soft as velvet. A brisk wind swept off the sea, but it was a warm wind that smelled of salt and damp grass, and the roar of waves crashing against the rocks below was a distant, friendly rumble. The moon shone brightly, every now and then hidden from view by swift clouds that rolled across the sky. Clementine and Marina walked down the lawn to sit on the bench. They were quite exposed there, overlooking the ocean and far-off peninsula where the lighthouse shone its warning light through the inky blackness. They wrapped their coats around them and sat down.