“Ah,” I said in a voice that wasn’t mine. “Hi.” I hoped he couldn’t read my face, or he’d realise I wasn’t overjoyed to see him, but, thankfully, Elvis chose that moment to leap at Paul, almost knocking him into the wall. Sue came into the room as the chef was grinning at my dog and ruffling his fur.
“We’ve just demolished your cakes,” Sue told Paul. “They were wonderful.”
He laughed. “Good to know I’m appreciated for something.” He looked at me, and I managed to smile. “I’ve got a free hour, and I thought I’d go for a walk on the moor. Would you and Elvis like to come?”
“Great idea,” Sue said before I’d gathered my wits together. “I’ll walk as far as Elder Lane with you.” She began clearing the table.
I said, “Just nipping to the loo.” Then I escaped upstairs, locked myself in the bathroom and gripped the edge of the sink, staring at my panicked face in the mirror. There was no escape now. I had to do this and face the consequences – good or bad. I told myself not to be such a big girl and get on with it.
When I came back downstairs, Sue and Paul were waiting in the hall with Elvis, chatting about Colin’s ankle. “I hope the strawberry tart helps,” Paul said as I took Elvis’s leash from Sue.
She handed me my shoulder bag. “Keys, phone, poo bags and treats. You’re all set.”
I avoided her eye. “Thanks.”
We left the cottage and headed out to Hill Street, Elvis straining at his leash and me fighting the urge to turn and run back inside. As we walked, Paul and Sue continued their conversation on the healing properties of cake while I silently rehearsed opening gambits:
We need to talk about Stephanie.
There’s something I have to tell you.
Your girlfriend’s a lying bitch, and I hate her.
“Ewan’s doing well at the café.” The conversation had changed. I tuned in as Paul continued, “He and Steph are holding the fort so I can have a break. They’ll phone if there’s an emergency, but I reckon it’ll be fine.”
“Did Steph have a break earlier, then?” Sue painted on her innocent face, while I looked at the ground. “She came in when I was buying the cakes.”
“Yeah, she went to Lufton to look round the shops.”
“It’s not exactly Knightsbridge. Or Camden Market.” Sue glanced my way, but I kept my gaze fixed on the pavement. “Did she buy anything nice?”
“No, but she saw a bag she liked. She’s going again tomorrow to have another look.”
“A bag.” Sue nodded. “Yeah, it’s good to go back and have a closer look at something you like. Maybe try it out. Touch it, see if it’s soft or hard. Feel it all over. Pull the zipper up and down and -”
“Well, here you are,” I said wildly as we reached the end of Elder Lane. “Tell Colin I said hello.”
“Me too.” Paul smiled. “He can give me feedback on the tart.”
I made an involuntary noise at the back of my throat, which came out like a strangled dolphin. Paul looked at me while Sue smiled like the cat who’s got the cream. “Yes, Marnie can do that, too. Nice to meet you again, Paul. Enjoy your walk. Bye, Elvis.”
Sue walked away and almost skipped towards her house. I mouthed obscenities at her back and then turned to Paul and gestured ahead. “Shall we…?”
Elvis pulled me onto the path ahead of Paul, and we walked for several minutes while I gathered my courage. Then I took a deep breath and said, “Paul, there’s something I need to tell you,” at the same moment Paul said, “Oh, wow, would you look at that? It’s perfect.”
I stopped and turned. Paul was facing the way we’d come, gazing over the rooftops to the view beyond. I walked back and stood beside him and saw what he meant.
The sun glittered on the sea with the perfectly blue backdrop of a cloudless sky. Gulls swooped. Boats bobbed out in the bay. A yacht floated lazily across the horizon, its sails pristine and smooth, like two white sandwiches. I imagined their filling: cucumber, maybe, or egg and cress. Something with tomato. Or banana. I always associated that filling with summer and picnics, although banana sandwiches could be messy to eat. It all depended on the heat and how much butter you used.
“You’re miles away.” Paul’s voice was filled with laughter. I came back to earth and found he’d moved closer and was staring in a way that unnerved me: intense and wondering, with a vulnerability behind his eyes that made me want to reach out and touch him.
Touch it, see if it’s soft or hard. Feel it all over. Pull the zipper up and down.
Damn Sue-bloody-Pearce. I swallowed and tried not to lick my lips. The scent of Sandalwood washed over me like an expensive shower gel, and I breathed in deeply. I couldn’t look away - and now I was imagining Paul Felix taking a shower. My legs suddenly belonged to someone else. My heart stopped. Paul leant closer; his eyes locked onto mine. Then our lips touched, and I felt the jolt of every cliché I’d ever read about electricity and passion and energy between two people.
The kiss grew deeper. My head swam on a wave of bliss. I surrendered, enveloped in warmth, lust, the wonderful strangeness of his skin, the feel of his body against mine - wanting the kiss to go on and on and never end.
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The kiss ended. Paul broke away and whirled around, breathing raggedly, hands on his head. “Oh, hell, sorry. I’m sorry, Marnie..” He walked away and stood, head hanging, staring at a gorse bush as if it might burst into flames and speak to him.
I stumbled back a few steps, rediscovered my lower limbs, and tried to remember how to breathe. It took some time. When I looked up, Paul was watching me. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Why not?” Slow anger sparked inside me and took hold. I knew what his answer would be.
“Because of Steph.” And there it was, word-for-word. Paul glanced around then, as if fearful that someone would see us, and my slow anger found the accelerator and moved into second gear. I bit my lip as Paul carried on, “That first morning at the café when I looked out and saw you…I just…you looked so lost. And there’s something between us, and it feels…it’s amazing. But there’s Steph. I can’t do this to her. I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologising.” The anger hit fifth gear and drove it like it stole it. “I need to tell you something, and you won’t like it. But I don’t want to do it here.” I wouldn’t taint the moor and have the memory haunt me whenever I brought Elvis for a walk. “Come back to the house.”
I began walking down the path. Behind me, I heard Paul’s footsteps as he followed, hesitant at first and then quickening. He didn’t speak. Elvis trotted beside me, happy to be moving, even if his random walk had changed direction. Had he noticed me kissing Paul? Maybe right now he was telling himself what a prize idiot I was and wondering if he might be better off with the glamorous prizefighter after all.
Paul caught up with me, and we walked to Lilac Cottage in silence. Then I stopped at the gate and realised I didn’t want to break the news in my home, either. I decided to show him, instead. “Change of plan. We’ll take the car.”
I unlocked the Golf, and Elvis bounced onto the back seat, delighted at the prospect of another road trip. Paul hesitated and looked back up Hill Street.
“The neighbours have probably seen us already. We’re walking my dog, and there’s nothing to it. Get in the car.”
Paul moved slowly to the passenger door, and I got behind the wheel. We fastened our seatbelts, and Elvis stuck his head between us and stared through the windscreen. I started the car and rolled forward until we could see the café. Then I braked, took a deep breath, and imagined I was on a case and reporting my activities to Alf.
“Yesterday afternoon, before I came in with Sue and Emma, I saw Mark Cooper down on the sand behind Sea Brew. He was kissing someone, but I couldn’t see her face because she had a sweatshirt with the hood up. It was yellow. Then Steph came in wearing a yellow hoodie, and I wondered.”
I risked a glance at Paul’s face - it was immobile. I checked my mirrors and then drove down to the junction with the promenade. “Earlier this afternoon, I was driving back from Alf and Noreen’s – that’s the detective I’ll be working for and his wife – and I saw Steph come out the café and get into a green Fiat. I decided to practise my detective skills and follow her.”
I indicated left and waited for a gap in the traffic. “Steph drove to the Clarion office, picked up Mark Cooper, and he hid in the back seat of the car.” I drove up Cliff Road for the third time that day, and Elvis whined in excitement and shuffled around like a child who’d had too many e-numbers. “She drove up this road to the junction at the top, and Mark Cooper sat up again.”
We reached the T-junction. “She didn’t go to Lufton. Instead, she turned towards Poole.” I did the same, and we travelled another couple of silent miles before I indicated to turn right. “I followed her in here.” I drove into the standing stones car park and pointed to a space on the left. “She parked there. I came up here and backed in.” I did this again, hauled on the handbrake, and killed the engine.
“Steph and Mark Cooper came out and walked to the path, holding hands and kissing. They disappeared around that corner.” I nodded ahead to the wooded area. “I took Elvis out and we went after them but didn’t see them. We walked to the standing stones and back, and they weren’t there. I deduced they’d gone into the trees - it was the only place they could be. The Fiat was empty, so…” I tailed off.
Paul’s silence filled the car. I could feel waves of tension shooting from him like arrows. Then I thought of bolts from a crossbow. I imagined dozens of them flying through the air in every direction, sharp and deadly, piercing the car roof and smashing the windows. One could hit me in the eye. “Ow.”
“What?” Paul snapped out of his stupor and looked at me. “What happened?”
“Nothing.” I took my hand away from my eye. “I’m fine.” Elvis whimpered and bounced around again, and I felt guilty and turned to him. “Sorry, boy, we’re not going out.”
“No.” Paul unfastened his seatbelt and opened the door in one savage movement. “Show me.”
The passenger door slammed shut behind him, and the car shook. “Seems like we’re going after all,” I told my dog.
Elvis and I joined Paul on the path, and we began walking. I looked around as we passed through the woods: several trails led into their depths, but the whole area looked dark, cold and uninviting. I thought of fairy tales and gingerbread houses and trails of breadcrumbs, and then I began to feel hungry and thought about Paul instead. He’d probably hate me now and never kiss me again.
The old Marnie told me she didn’t care. If Paul Felix couldn’t handle the truth, he was a pathetic wuss and didn’t deserve me anyway.
I straightened my shoulders and carried on.
There was no one at the standing stones. We stood there in silence as though we were worshipping them. I wanted to suggest we hold hands and sing ‘Kumbaya’.
And then Paul spoke.
“I know Steph’s a flirt. She was all over your Tim at the hotel on Saturday, and I don’t blame you for being angry. But this…I don’t know what to think.”
“Angry?” I turned on him. “You think that’s what this is? I’m lying about her, making up a story because she’s a man’s woman and doesn’t rate her own sex? You really don’t know me at all, Paul Felix.”
Paul recoiled from my gaze.
I hadn’t finished. “I was angry about Steph and Tim at the hotel because her behaviour was rude, ignorant and disrespectful to you and me. Not because I was jealous. And, by the way, he’s not ‘my’ Tim. I told him I didn’t want to see him anymore. Not sure he’s completely on board with that, but I’ve had enough of him.”
The silence fell again. Elvis looked at me, uncertain about my angry voice, and I felt terrible and ruffled his ear. When I spoke again, I made sure my tone was soft and even. “I don’t care whether you believe me or not, Paul. It’s up to you. But I’ll lay money on this: if you get Steph on her own, look into her eyes and tell her she was seen here, you’ll know. She’s no actress, and she’ll give herself away and then try to cover it up. I married a liar, remember?”
I tightened my grip on Elvis’s lead and moved away. “I’m going back to the car.” We marched off, my dog keeping pace with my furious stride. I half-hoped Paul wouldn’t follow us, as I could happily have left him there to find his own way back, but when I glanced over my shoulder, he was trailing behind like a lost puppy.
We all piled back into the Golf, the atmosphere heavy with unspoken truth and painful thoughts, and I drove back to Dexter Bay, turned up Hill Street and returned to my space outside Lilac Cottage.
Paul got out first, closing his door gently this time, and then stood on the pavement staring at nothing. I took Elvis, locked the Golf and stormed past the chef into my house. I looked out of the living room window minutes later, and Paul was gone.