Page 20 of The Wedding Cake
Despite what she’d said to Hannah, it was hard to see how Freya could continue to ignore the mounting evidence that Piper was having an affair. Tim might well work things out for himself down the line, but he struck Freya as the kind of guy who tried to see the good in everyone. Hannah was right (again). By the time he realised the truth, it would be too late and he’d be married to the woman. His girlfriend’s betrayal might be public knowledge in one or two local circles, but Piper was hardly a famous name in the UK. There would be virtually no comeback from her picture appearing in a Spanish magazine whose influence would fly beneath the radar. It wasn’t as if Tim would have a burning desire to pick up a copy at a kiosk and flick through it to see which of the Costa’s socialites were having a spiffing time at a fiesta. Clearly Piper was playing a very astute game, doing her homework, booking her hotel stay to coincide with ‘chance meetings’ with wealthy heirs, and weaving her way into the fabric of Puerto Banus society. She was more than a pretty face.
In the end, after a snatched couple of hours of rest, Freya decided she would wing it. Which was a fitting theme for the day, after all. If the situation presented itself, she’d drop Tim a few hints. It was a halfway house of a solution, and would go some way to assuage her guilt. In her professional capacity, there was no way she could tell Tim what she had found out, but she could get him thinking, perhaps enough to pique his curiosity to dig.
And so that’s what she did, after their stiff handshakes (blimey, it was a disappointing downgrade from the warm kiss on the cheeks, and the protective grip of Tim’s arm, and the intensity of his eyes burning into hers, and the sexual tension of two days ago) and an exhilarating glide over the terracotta houses, biscuity sand, choppy twinkly waves, and bobbing fishing boats of Duquesa. Freya tentatively mimicked the sentiment of Tim’s question to her the other day, and found herself saying:
“Can I ask you something that I totally shouldn’t… something that I have no right to know the answer to?”
Freya’s own courage startled her. She put it down to today’s perfect flight conditions and the laminar air that had made her feel free as a bird. Being so high above the ground, safely strapped to her instructor, she’d quickly let go of her grass roots view of life, trading it in for an immediate and well-overdue eagle-eye perspective. The flight was now over and the instructors had helped them out of their harnesses and sped off to their next bookings, but Freya intended to refer back to that soaring viewpoint as often as she could.
Now she stood facing Tim in the dusty car park, as if the pair of them were in a Spaghetti Western. Tim gripped the handle of his hire car’s door as if Freya’s words had triggered his reflexes. And now all Freya wanted to do was bomb out of the place and down the road back to her apartment as fast as she could, putting distance between them in her pearlescent blue Fiat 500.
“I think I already know what that something is.” He let go of the handle and looked seriously troubled. They stood but a metre apart. “I... I’m not sure how to put into words how differently I’ve been feeling since... erm... y’know, the other day wh-when we...” But Tim couldn’t finish his sentence. “And even if it doesn’t make any sense, I don’t think it’s just because my path crossed yours… confusing the hell out of me, so yeah, thanks for that.”
Freya took in a sharp breath and tried to ignore the little sparks dancing in her stomach. Tim didn’t half make her think of an adorable Hugh Grant finally declaring himself to his love interest in a movie
“What I’m trying to say, in a very hashed up way,” he continued. “Is… it seems I might have previously fallen in love with the idea of being in love... with just superficial feelings for the person I’m supposed to be in love with. I’m pathetic, I know. But there, I’ve said it.” Now it was Tim who inhaled sharply. “If things were different, Freya… It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that I’m incredibly attracted to you. Physically and emotionally. I’d have asked you out for dinner in a heartbeat – if only things were different.”
Freya smiled sadly at Tim. She wasn’t sure what else she could do. He had said it. She’d been told good and proper. There was no chance. Giving thoughts about him even a micro-percentage of her time had been nothing but a frivolous waste of imagination.
“Things are too far down the road. I really don’t want to be that bastard who jilts their bride at the altar, leaving them with a crapfest.”
Freya slowly walked a few steps towards Tim. She ignored the utter punch to the stomach Tim’s words had delivered. She looked into his eyes, gave him her tenderest smile, for she knew it would be the last time she saw him, and kissed him equally tenderly on the lips, The truth was, she’d never be special enough to anyone for them to not leave her in the lurch. Love didn’t even come into it.
Tim’s eyes remained closed when she stood back. He pressed his lips together as if he wanted to swallow that kiss and bury it deep inside him for future reference. For a moment Freya even wondered if the kiss might have planted a seed, but then she came to her senses. The poor guy was clearly shocked and seriously wondering why he’d been stupid enough to lead her on with the invite to today’s activity – not that they had spent a whole lot of time on their own. Freya had been ten minutes late for the flight and Tim had already been in his gear listening to the safety demo. By the time Freya had been given the lowdown herself and their respective instructors had them airborne, all Freya caught was a scant glimpse of Tim and his shadow as he soared through the sky up ahead of her. Now she realised she’d been watching a metaphor. Tim would always live with a shadow, as long as he neglected his heart and married Piper. Reluctantly, Freya got in her car.
“It’s been a fun morning,” she said as she wound down the window and started up the Fiat’s engine. “I’ll always be glad that we met. I know it sounds whimsical but you have been the biggest breath of fresh air. I’ll make your cake as planned. It will be pure perfection. Ricky and Hannah will deliver it on the day, though. I think it’s best that our paths don’t cross again.”
She turned the car in a circle, put her foot on the accelerator and sped off up the dirt track to the main road, eyes stinging with tears. She left Tim propped against his car in her rearview mirror as if he was posing for an album cover, his feet as rooted to the spot as they had been when she’d first kissed him.
ALICE
“Did she pass?”
Alice burst into the kitchen, her face in her hands. She wanted to know their camper van’s service fate, and she didn’t want to know their camper van’s service fate! They’d left it too late to book Twinkle in at the garage for any major repairs and it just wouldn’t feel the same if they hired a brand new camper van for their honeymoon once they were in Spain. One of the charms of such a long trip was taking their racing green Volkswagen overseas for the first time – crossing from Portsmouth to Santander and then wending their leisurely way around the mountains of the north and across the plains of the centre until they reached the vibrant south of Spain.
“With flying colours!”
Alice uncovered her eyes and jumped up and down excitedly – even more so when she saw a happy River standing in front of her with a shiny steel cocktail shaker poised in his hands, ready to make a celebratory drink.
“Ooh! Can you make me a Coco Loco? It’s been ages!”
“I was already on it,” River laughed. “And while I chop the coconut, you can tell me how the packing is going.”
Although there was still a month to go until the wedding, Alice and River needed to pack their casesyesterday. They planned to soak up as much of Spain as they could en route, staying a week or more at their favourite places, and, once the final things on their respective to-do lists had been crossed off, they’d be pootling their way off into the sunset.
“Never mind that for the moment,” said Alice. “It’s Hayley who’s giving me a splitting headache.”
“She better not have got cold feet about being a bridesmaid.”
“Nothing like that.” Alice shook her head. “And even though I’d be gutted if she did, that kind of catastrophe would be much easier to remedy even at short notice.”
“What is it then?” River gritted his teeth as he hacked into a ripe coconut. “Tell me she’s not trying to pair up any of the minibus guests already.” Their friend was notorious for playing Cupid. Especially when her services were far from required.
“I’m afraid it’s even more worrying. What started out as her driving a minibus full of people over to Spain for the wedding has turned into… wait for it… acoachfull of people.”
“That’s ridiculous.” River flung the coconut pieces into the blender and gave them a quick blitz. “There won’t be enough demand among the guests for an entire coach,” he shouted over the top of the white noise. “Most people will prefer to fly, not spend days and nights on the road. Is she even licensed?”
“Oh, yes.” Alice yelled back. “She’s got her category D and D1 licence. That’s not the issue. My beef is, I hadn’t envisaged such a stonking great vehicle clogging up the finca’s driveway. It’s not very idyllic, is it?”
