Read My Map of You Online

Authors: Isabelle Broom

My Map of You (23 page)

BOOK: My Map of You
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‘Well then, thanks for saving my life too.'

They both laughed, but there was a slight uneasiness behind the chuckles. Holly knew she should be thinking about Rupert, just as she knew that Aidan must be thinking about him as well, but she was selfishly enjoying herself too much to bring the subject up. It was so much easier just to carry on and pretend that there was no elephant swinging its trunk around, trying to get their attention. She wanted to sit and have dinner with this man and talk about his life here on the island; she wanted the table overlooking the sunset and his hand in her own. The subject of her boyfriend didn't sit too comfortably in
that scenario and, despite the fact that she knew in her heart that it was wrong, she resolutely decided to put the issue into one of her many internal boxes and lock it up until morning.

Aidan must have sensed her silent struggle, because he let go of her hand. ‘Meet you back at mine in half an hour?' he asked.

‘Deal!' Holly shrugged off her conscience and closed the jeep door before heading up the path and reaching forward to get the key from under the pot. The house was in darkness, but as she closed the door Holly could see her mobile phone illuminated on the table – she hadn't even realised that she'd left it behind.

Swinging her bag on to the sofa and flicking on the light, Holly took a few steps forward and all of a sudden found herself paralysed with a sense of impending doom. She took a deep breath and forced herself as far as the table, before gingerly picking up her phone.

The message on the screen confirmed her worst fears.

‘AIDAN!' Holly was actually hammering on the door. She could hear Phelan skittering around inside and the distant sound of water running.

‘AIDAN!' she tried again, close to tears now. Phelan started barking and eventually the door opened. Aidan was wet from the shower and wearing just a towel and a bemused expression.

‘What's this?' he grinned. ‘Couldn't stay away from me for all of ten minutes, eh?'

Holly said nothing, just handed him her phone, Rupert's text message still filling the screen.

‘Oh.'

‘I know.' It came out as barely a whisper. ‘What the hell am I going to do?'

Aidan was silent for a few beats, and Holly watched as droplets of water fell from his fringe on to his bare chest.

‘How much time do we have?' he asked, suddenly urgent.

‘This was sent four hours ago,' Holly told him, her heart sinking down into her knees.

‘His flight landed ten minutes ago …'

Tuesday, 12 October 1993

Dearest S,

Do you know what day it is? It's ten years to the day since Mum and Dad died in that stupid accident. I thought I should mark it somehow, and writing to you seemed like a better idea than opening a bottle of vodka, although neither one makes me feel any better. They would have hated this, you know? Us fighting like this. I so wish they hadn't gone on that trip. I wish they'd been here to meet Holly – they would have loved her so much. And I think they would still have loved me, despite it all. That might have helped you to forgive me. Will you forgive me? For Mum and Dad? Do it for them, not for me. I still miss you.

Jen x

21

‘Holly!'

Rupert's shout of greeting was so loud in the cavernous arrivals lounge that Holly ducked, half-expecting the glass walls to splinter and fall in on top of her.

‘Ru …' was all she managed, before he sprinted over and picked her up in his arms, spinning her round and round and kissing her neck with delight.

‘It's so good to see you!' he blabbered. ‘I almost didn't recognise you with that tan. I mean, wow. I can't wait to see the white bits.'

He didn't bother to lower his voice as he said the last part, earning himself a guffaw of approval from a group of passing lads who were no doubt heading to Laganas.

‘What are you doing here?' Holly asked him, being careful to keep her tone light.

‘I was starting to think you'd run off and left me for a Greek waiter,' he laughed. ‘I thought I'd better pop over here to woo you back.'

Holly forced her mouth into the shape of a smile.

‘I might have had a few on the flight over,' Rupert added, letting out a discreet belch behind his hand.

Holly, who hadn't even had time to shower off the remnants of her day at the beach with Aidan or run a brush through her salty, matted hair, felt horribly exposed under the bright lights in the terminal. She had convinced
herself that the moment Rupert saw her he would be able to see her deceit. He would recognise her as the horrible lying cheat that she was. Mercifully, though, he seemed completely oblivious, although he did pull a face when he tried to run his hands through her hair.

‘Did you crawl here through some bushes?' he asked, removing his fingers from her straggly locks.

‘I came straight from the beach,' Holly stuttered, staring at her feet. ‘I left my phone charging back at the house,' she added. ‘That's why I was late to meet you – I'm so sorry.'

‘Not to worry, sweetie,' he kissed the tip of her nose. ‘You're here now, that's all that matters. I bought a nice bottle of white in duty free, but it's gone warm now. I hope this place of yours has some ice?'

Holly could only nod and smile. There was what felt like a heap of wet spaghetti busily whirring round on a fast spin cycle in her stomach.

Rupert hadn't let go of her hand since she got there, and insisted she sit in the back of the taxi with him even though the driver wasn't sure where they were going. As a result, she spent most of the journey with her head between the two front seats like a dog, one hand clasped tightly in Rupert's lap and his sharp-edged man-bag jabbing her in the ribs. Rupert stared out of the window as they drove, shouting out random descriptions of the things they were passing, such as, ‘goat', ‘shop', ‘tree' and ‘moped', all accompanied with snorts of laughter in varying volumes. He'd clearly had more than a few on the flight over. In contrast to her first taxi ride from the airport, this time the driver said barely a word.

As Rupert remarked that they'd just driven past a pack of stray dogs, Holly thought agonisingly of Phelan and the puppy. Would she ever see them again? She'd left Aidan standing mute and aghast in his doorway, promising that she'd do something to sort out the mess she'd made. But now, confronted with the reality of Rupert being here, in Zakynthos, just to see her, she found that it wasn't going to be that simple. Even if she wanted to, she couldn't tell Rupert about Aidan here, when he was so far from home – that wouldn't be fair. It was only today that the prospect of actually breaking up with her boyfriend had become a real consideration, and whatever thought she'd given to it as it niggled in the back of her mind, it never involved a scenario where he turned up here on the island. She had pictured the two of them sitting in a bar back in London or in his flat, her taking his hand and telling him it was over, that they wanted different things. This was literally the worst thing that could have happened. What the hell was she going to do?

Holly held her breath as the taxi began to climb the hill, but thankfully Aidan was nowhere to be seen. His doors and windows were shut and the jeep missing from its place by the wall. She dared not even imagine how he must be feeling, but then he had known about Rupert. She'd been honest about that, at least. In fact, she'd been more honest with Aidan than she ever had with anyone – a fact that made her feel all the more guilty towards Rupert, who was currently behaving like the sweetest, most caring boyfriend in the world.

‘What a beautiful house!' he proclaimed, as they rounded the corner. ‘Can you see the ocean from up here?'

Holly nodded. ‘The view is amazing from the back garden. I'm glad you approve.'

Rupert crossed straight to the fridge after she'd let them inside. ‘Is there any ice for this wine, darling?'

‘Sorry, no.' Holly did her best to look apologetic. ‘I can pop down to the shop?'

‘I'll come with you!' Rupert was by her side faster than a bungee cord.

If Kostas was surprised to see that Holly suddenly had a strange male companion in tow, he didn't show it. He smiled as he always did and shook Rupert's hand as they paid for two bags of ice, three packs of beer and several bags of crisps, but he didn't chat to Holly as much as normal. The light was just starting to fade, and the undergrowth buzzed with the hum of crickets as they made their way back up the hill. Rupert chatted away to her about work and admitted that he'd managed to wangle a few days off by pretending an aunt had died.

‘My aunt really did die,' Holly blurted, immediately going red.

‘Oh …' Rupert looked crestfallen. ‘I'm sorry, darling. I didn't mean to upset you. But I thought you didn't know her?'

‘I didn't,' she admitted, trying to hide the hurt in her voice. ‘I just … Well, she left me her house.'

There was an awkward silence as Rupert tried to work out why he'd suddenly ended up in the doghouse. As they reached the front door, he stopped and pulled Holly gently across the path.

‘I've really missed you,' he whispered, pressing his body against hers. He felt like a stranger.

‘I've missed you too,' she told him, kissing him lightly on the lips then stepping slowly away. ‘Come on, I want to try this amazing wine you won't stop going on about.'

Holly survived the next few hours by doing a lot of needless tidying and even more drinking. Unable to face the idea of sharing the very small bed in the spare room with Rupert, she moved her own belongings out and reluctantly showed him into Sandra's former room. She'd unearthed some more blankets from the back of a cupboard, and she noticed Rupert wrinkle his nose as she shook them out.

‘I would have bought some new stuff if I knew you were coming,' she told him, thinking longingly of the dinner she should be having with Aidan.

‘It's fine,' Rupert smiled as he sat down. For the first time since she'd met him, he seemed a bit unsure of where to put himself. Despite her growing indifference, Holly felt a twinge of pity for him. After all, she told herself sternly, she was the bad person here, not him.

‘You seem different,' he began, chewing nervously at a bit of loose skin on his thumb. ‘Are you angry with me?'

Holly took a deep breath.

‘No. Of course I'm not angry with you. It's just been a funny few days.'

‘You haven't even kissed me properly,' he pouted. ‘All I've wanted to do since I got here is kiss you.'

Holly thought of Aidan: his big hands in the small of her back, the scratch of his stubble in the cleft of her throat.

‘Well, kiss me then.'

There was a tremble of silence as Rupert raised his eyes
to meet hers, then he stood and clasped each side of her face, kissing her with more passion and determination than he ever had before. Caught by surprise, Holly felt her knees weaken and a stirring in the pit of her belly. This wasn't supposed to happen. It was Aidan she wanted, not Rupert.

As he pulled back a few seconds later, Rupert beamed at her, his confidence restored.

‘Shall we go out somewhere? To a club or something?' he asked, his hands still on her hot cheeks.

‘Yeah, sure, of course,' she said, trying to slow the frantic hammering inside her chest. What in the hell was happening to her?

It was still relatively early in the summer season, but Laganas' main strip was very much awake. Bars and clubs jostled for attention next to one another, the bass from their competitive speaker systems making the street outside throb. Holly had only ever crossed the very bottom of the road, down by the beach, so she had no idea where to take Rupert. She needn't have worried, however, because there was a plethora of young British and Greek PRs doing their level best to talk them over the thresholds.

‘Free fishbowl!' yelled a blonde girl with several tongue piercings.

‘Free shot with every drink!' screamed a Geordie lad with a sunburnt forehead.

‘Best bar in Laganas. Happy hour all night!' shouted a skinny Greek boy in cut-off jeans.

‘This place is crazy,' enthused Rupert, laughing as a girl, her dress falling off both shoulders, staggered into
the street and promptly threw up bright pink vomit into the gutter.

‘We could go to Kalamaki instead?' Holly suggested. ‘It's the next resort along, but it's much quieter and much more, erm, traditionally Greek.'

‘This place seems fun,' Rupert said, not quite managing to avert his eyes as a group of girls shimmied past wearing matching micro hot pants and ‘I ♥ Zante' vest tops.

Holly rolled her eyes as her tipsy boyfriend started giggling.

‘Maybe we should go to Kalamaki?' she persisted. Looking around, she realised they could quite easily be standing in the middle of London's Soho. There was none of the Greek charm and character that she'd grown to love so much – it was utterly soulless.

‘We can go there tomorrow.' Rupert grabbed her arm. ‘I've already drunk too much to worry about dinner, anyway. Let's just enjoy ourselves.'

‘Whatever you think,' Holly said, taking a deep breath to disguise her sigh. The girl with the pink sick had staggered back into the nearest bar and was happily lining up her next shot.

They carried on walking until Rupert suggested that a tacky-looking bar dubiously named Pulse looked like fun. The music was so loud inside that Holly could barely hear what he was saying.

Sent to the bar with an order of white wine, an apologetic Rupert returned a few minutes later with a tray laden with various multi-coloured cocktails and two plastic shot glasses of something that smelled like aniseed.

‘They don't do wine,' he shrugged. ‘I went for Sex on the Beach and something called the Zante Hammer – hope that's okay?'

‘Here's hoping, eh?' she quipped, doing her best to look grateful. She couldn't believe that this noisy, smelly place was part of the tranquil, magical and stunningly beautiful island that she'd fallen so in love with over the past week. But then it was only one road out of so very many – the rest of the island appeared to have remained mercifully unscathed.

‘I feel old,' Rupert moaned, pointing as yet another group of what looked like teenagers bustled into the bar demanding free shots. For Holly, who'd spent her teens and early twenties in a state of perpetual misery, the idea of being young again made her feel ill. Growing older wasn't exactly solving all her problems, but it had provided her with the self-sufficient security that she'd craved for so many years.

Just as they were taking tentative sips of their first cocktails, a Greek guy approached their table with a half-full bottle of something bright red. ‘Free shots for the lady?' he cried, jumping up on to their low table and thrusting the neck end of his bottle towards Holly.

‘Me next!' said Rupert, giving Holly a wink and opening his mouth. The Greek guy looked momentarily put out, but quickly recovered and poured a healthy slug of the red concoction straight down Rupert's throat and, not altogether accidentally, Holly suspected, down the front of his white shirt too.

Holly couldn't help but laugh, and Rupert was quick to join in. It occurred to her then that if they got drunk
enough, her eager boyfriend might well pass out before making a move on her. The kiss they'd shared back at the house had unnerved her, and she didn't want to think about what would happen once she and Rupert were in a bed alone together.

‘Come on then,' she announced, picking up her cocktail and downing it in three gulps. ‘Let's go on a bar crawl!'

There is no such thing as last orders in Laganas – a fact that Holly soon discovered as they hurried, then later staggered, from bar to bar along the length of the strip. Everywhere they went, free shots were thrust into their hands, and it wasn't long before Rupert had reached the point of actual slurring.

Holly was drinking steadily, on a mission to eradicate the reality of what was happening, while Rupert was happy just to keep up, growing ever more tactile as the hours passed. Most of the places they went seemed to employ a mixture of both Greek and English staff, and Holly also heard a few Australian accents as she was handed her change. Many of the barmen were emulating Tom Cruise in the film
Cocktail
, throwing bottles around, while others went as far as swigging a mouthful of lamp oil and turning themselves into a human flame thrower. It was all quite impressive, in a way, but Holly saw none of the heart of Zakynthos that she loved so much. She found herself yearning for Annie's cute little cocktail bar and the slightly warm village wine from Kostas' shop.

BOOK: My Map of You
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