KIM LAWRENCE - Santiago's Love-Child

‘He’s also a genuine financial genius. His name is Santiago Morais.’ Rachel’s smooth brow furrowed. ‘He’s Italian or—’

‘Spanish,’ Lily inserted in a flat little voice. ‘He’s Spanish.’ And I am so over him, she thought, pressing her hand against her sternum to ease the tight feeling in her chest.

‘Yeah, you’re right. Since when did you start reading the financial pages, Lily?’

‘He makes the gossip columns too,’ she said, struggling to keep the bitterness from her voice as an image of the pop star Susie Sebastian, her pouting lips aimed like heat-seeking missiles at a willing male mouth, flashed into her mind.

‘That figures. You know, I think I’ll spend my next holiday in Spain. You never know, I might bump into Mr Gorgeous. He would carry me off to bed and make mad, passionate love to me.’

Lily half closed her eyes, and saw sun-dappled shadows dancing over a lean golden torso as the breeze stirred the leaves of a tree outside the window. ‘For five days straight?’

Rachel angled an amused look at Lily’s face. ‘Hey, get your own fantasy!’ she protested.

Lily blushed, which made Rachel chuckle. ‘You have hidden murky depths, girl.’

You have no idea, Lily thought.

For a while after she’d come out of hospital Lily had thought she would never feel anything ever again. Now she wasn’t so sure that would have been such a bad thing! Oh, when were things ever going to get back to normal? So she could get on with being a librarian who lived in a Devon seaside town.

She knew that it wasn’t healthy or constructive to go down the ‘what if?’ road, but she couldn’t help wondering what her life would be like now if she hadn’t gone down to the pool that morning all those months ago. It had been such a small decision, but the consequences had been life-changing.

An early-morning swim hadn’t seemed sinister or significant, just a good way to clear her head after a long, sleepless night alone in the decadent honeymoon suite of a Spanish five-star hotel, which, rumour had it, had been fully booked up for the next decade or so.

It would have been understandable if the thoughts that had kept her awake had concerned her absent husband. Her husband who hadn’t been answering her calls. The same husband who had texted her the previous morning to say the problem at work that had forced him to leave her at the airport at the start of their holiday had turned into a crisis and, no, he wouldn’t be joining her after all.

Gordon wasn’t to know that, following his text, determined to make the best of her holiday to this enchanting area, Lily had booked herself onto an excursion to the charming nearby Renaissance town of Baeza. Places like this were part of the reason she had fallen in love with Andalucia.

She hadn’t immediately placed the middle-aged man and his wife bearing down on her as the tour guide was in full flow. Then as she’d looked beyond the shorts and garish shirt she’d recognised a colleague of Gordon’s and his wife. She’d vaguely recalled meeting them on a few social occasions.

‘Matt…Susan.’ She called out to the couple.

They did the usual ‘small world, fancy meeting you here’ stuff, and then the older man looked around expectantly. ‘Gordon not with you?’

‘No, he couldn’t get away, I’m afraid.’

If he had, there was no way she’d have got to take this excursion; Gordon wouldn’t have budged from the five-star luxury of the hotel. If she had suggested that they go and see the real inland Andalucia, with its olive groves and rolling hills, he would have thought she was crazy.

‘Not surprised,’ the other man confessed. ‘He must be up to his eyes in it with his new venture. I couldn’t believe it when I heard on the grapevine he was leaving. I admit, I thought Gordon was a permanent fixture like me.’

Miraculously Lily’s smile stayed superglued in place. ‘So did I, Matt.’

‘And he was a sure bet for that promotion.’

Lily nodded in agreement. ‘He did mention that.’ One of the few things he had mentioned, it seemed.

‘But good for him, I say. You need to be a risk-taker sometimes.’ He looked across the square. ‘Is that your group moving on?’

‘Yes, it is. Lovely to see you.’

Blissfully oblivious to the fact that with a few words he had revealed her marriage to be a total joke, Matt shouted cheerily after her, ‘Remember me to Gordon and wish him all the luck in the future.’

He’s going to need all the luck he can get when I get hold of him. ‘I will,’ Lily promised with her best sincere smile.

Of course, she had known for some time that their marriage had problems, but she hadn’t suspected until now that they might be insurmountable.

My husband is leading a double life! What the hell is he up to?

At the first opportunity Lily slipped away from her tour group and sought refuge in the town’s delightful flower-filled plaza. She sat in a pavement café and ordered coffee, then, changing her mind, asked instead for wine in her clumsy, faltering Spanish. The proprietor brought a bottle.

She sat sipping the rich-bodied red and thinking about what she was going to do next. Didn’t a woman in her situation need a plan of action?

She could run up a credit-card bill, one guaranteed to bring tears to Gordon’s eyes. It wouldn’t be hard. Gordon had a deep, almost spiritual connection with his wallet—in fact, not to put too fine a point on it, he was as mean as hell!

Then again, she mused, she could take the direct approach and get the next plane home, tell him straight if he didn’t want her to walk he’d better come clean about what he’d been up to. But was it a good idea to confront him when she wasn’t even sure any more if she wanted to save their marriage?

She could always cut the sleeves off his favourite designer suits, give the bottles of wine he’d put down as an investment to the church raffle…But, no, that had been done before by other, more imaginative wronged wives. But wasn’t she jumping the gun? Maybe her deepest suspicions were off and another woman wasn’t involved.

Sure, because Gordon’s never cheated before.

Lily toyed with the idea of sleeping with the first attractive man she saw. It would certainly be one way to have her revenge.

She knew the alcohol was partially responsible for her audacious line of thought, but for a while it was good to feel daring and in charge, not a damned victim.

When the bottle was empty she still hadn’t decided what course, if any, to take. The helpful proprietor of the café offered to call her a taxi and for once she thought, Hang the cost, and let him.

Given the day’s revelations and the fact she spent the rest of the afternoon sleeping off the unaccustomed alcohol, Lily never expected to sleep that night, and she didn’t, but not for the reason she had anticipated. No, all thoughts of her secretive husband and his mysterious new venture were crowded out of her head by the dark, chiselled features of a total stranger! This probably said something about her character. Lily wasn’t sure what, but she doubted it was flattering.

The next morning the solitude of the pool and exercise had the desired therapeutic effect, or so she naively believed at the time. After several slow, steady lengths she succeeded in rationalising what had happened in the hotel restaurant the night before. So she had been the victim of instant lust—it happened, she told herself with a mental shrug. Admittedly never before to her.

It was silly to get hung up about it.

It wasn’t as if she had done anything awful like cheat—at least only in her mind. And she suspected every woman who ever laid eyes on the tall, dynamic Spaniard with his sinfully sexy smile and incredible voice was guilty of that.