Page 37 of My Lemon Grove Summer
But as I lie there listening to his gentle snores, I realise time is exactly what we don’t have. Once the dust clears, we’re leaving, and the romance of moving somewhere new and making a future together will be gone. Will we still feel the same about the pact when we’re back to a life of rented rooms and dead-end jobs?
Chapter Nineteen
‘They’ve been turned around and re-drilled . . . looks like the work of a professional!’
Barry is standing in the courtyard below our window, where Sherise and Ralph are drinking coffee. He’s been out on his bike for an early-morning ride through the mist rolling around the abandoned lemon groves as the sun rises through their boughs. But now he’s back, and he’s furious.
‘What? Matteo, you think?’ Ralph asks.
Barry shrugs and shoves his bike against the tree. We make our way downstairs to join them.
‘What’s happened?’ we both ask, rubbing our bed-head hair, and Sherise gives us a knowing smile. I’d hate to disappoint her by telling her that nothing but a good’s night sleep went on in our bed last night.
‘Must have been him!’ says Barry, ignoring us. ‘Not sure how many other people round here would have the know-how to do it.’
‘What?!’ Lennie and I say in unison.
Tabitha joins us, looking just as bleary-eyed. This is early for her. She’s carrying her phone, searching for signal.
‘Someone has turned around all my signs, every single one of them,’ Barry explains.
‘That’s terrible!’ And we all voice our disgust at what’s happened as we take in the information.
Fury bubbles up, and just for a moment I wonder if Luca knows anything about this. Was last night all an elaborate decoy?
‘Readvertise the rooms,’ I tell Tabitha. ‘Let’s see what tomorrow brings. And this time, we’ll meet them from the main road. It’s time someone took that family on at its own game.’
The rest of the week runs smoothly. Barry goes out on his bike to meet the guests who booked online. We fall into a routine – cleaning, cooking and bed-making – and our household kitty is starting to look pretty healthy. We make pasta and Luca gets the other groceries we need and we pay him back. We can even afford decent wine from the vineyard Luca recommended.
We’ve put Ralph in charge of the money and the budgeting.
‘Are you sure? There’s plenty of people back in the City who would advise you against letting me anywhere near the children’s dinner money, let alone a week’s takings.’
‘Absolutely sure,’ I tell him. ‘Whatever happened in the UK was left there.’
He looks like I’ve entrusted him with the Crown Jewels.
‘It’s what we have to go back to that’s the worry,’ he says quietly.
At the end of the week, the last guests leave, the dust has all but gone and the flights are preparing to take off once more.
Tabitha is on her phone, talking intently, sitting under the fig tree, where we’ve left the table and chairs all week. Her laptop is in front of her. The weather has been weird. There’s still a haziness in the air, and there have been occasional black ash showers, which has meant more cleaning of tables and chairs, sweeping up and dusting. We’ve felt the occasional tremor too, but on the whole, things seem to be settling down. The air is clearing, there’s a hint of blue in the sky and life appears to be slowly returning to normal – whatever that might be.
Ralph is doing a final check of how many guests we’ve had, and our incomings and outgoings.
‘We’ve done remarkably well,’ he says. ‘If only I’d managed this kind of profit back in the City. Low-risk, but lots of hard work and effort,’ he muses. ‘Might have kept my wife and kids . . . and my home. So, any other guests due?’ he asks.
I look at Tabitha and try and catch her eye to let her know that I want to check her computer for Airbnb bookings. She’s been in charge of all the online stuff and has been brilliant, I have to say. She has one finger in her ear and is pacing up and down now, talking animatedly. We’re all feeling the stress of trying to make arrangements. Ralph has been looking at helping at a bird sanctuary on a remote Scottish island, trying to get as far away from London as possible. Barry is going to stay with his brother. And us? Our only option is to go back and stay with Lennie’s mum, and much as we love her, that’s really not something we want to do if we can help it.
I try and get Tabitha’s attention one last time, but she is oblivious. ‘Oh, I’m sure she won’t mind,’ I say. ‘Pass it to me, I’ll check.’
Lennie reaches over and hands me the computer. There’s a document open that I presume must be the novel Tabitha came here to write. It would be rude to look, so I go to close it, but before I can do so, something catches my eye on the screen. A name. I blink and and reread it. It’s there on the page. Not just any name. My name!
Tabitha is now tapping furiously on her phone. My head snaps up to look at her. She appears deep in thought. I can’t take my eyes off her. Suspicions and accusations are tumbling through my mind.
‘You all right, Zelda?’ Ralph asks, and I feel like the colour has drained from my face and my eyes are flashing red.
I’m still staring at Tabitha, and slowly she seems to sense it. She looks up from her phone and straight at me. She knows, I think. She knows that I know.
