“Course not,” I assure her. “It’s a party.”
Rhett is in the kitchen, arranging a tray of tequilas with a concentrated look on his face.
“Hi, I brought the potato salad.”
“Great.”
“Where’s Deacon?”
“Out in the garden.”
“I’ll go and see if he needs a hand.”
I turn to go, when Rhett calls after me: “Hey, Isabel?”
“What?”
“Who’s your friend?”
“Oh, right!”
I look guiltily at Alicia, who is hovering behind me.
“This is Alicia.”
He gives her an easy smile. “Hi.”
Alicia mumbles something incomprehensible and blushes. Rhett raises his eyebrows at me. Wow, she is really shy around men! I dread to think how she’s going to fare with Deacon.
“Come on, the garden’s this way.”
I adjust my sunglasses as we step outside again. The weather people were not wrong. They cannot agree on why, but the temperature is distinctly tropical. Charred autumn leaves litter the lawn, and horse chestnuts lie roasting in the sun. It’s quite peculiar. I think this is the first time I’ve ever worn a sundress and sandals in November, though I brought my winter coat just in case.
Deacon has stripped down to his vest. His longish dark hair glistens with sweat and he hauls cast iron garden furniture around as if it weighed no more than paper. He is so engrossed in what he’s doing, he doesn’t notice us watching him.
“Hey, Deacon! I’m here!” I wave my arms to get his attention.
“Oh, hi.” He sets down the chair he was carrying.
“This is Alicia. She brought beer.”
“Ah, my kind of woman!”
“Want one?” Alicia asks, shyly.
“I wouldn’t say no.”
She breaks a can from the pack and tosses it in his direction. He catches it with ease and peels back the tab to take a long slug.
“You have a lovely house,” she ventures, looking at him from under her long dark lashes.
Deacon beams. “I can give you a tour if you like, once I’ve got the barbecue going.”
“That would be lovely.”
He puts down his beer and begins setting up the barbecue, laying down charcoal and pouring on lighter fluid.
“Damn, I’m out of matches. Isabel, can I borrow your lighter?”
I poke around in my pocket. “Sorry – I must have left it at home.”
He looks at Alicia. “You got one?”
She shakes her head. “Sorry.”
“Never mind, I’ll go and ask Rhett.”
He walks back to the house, while Alicia looks at me inquisitively.
“Maybe we can help?” she suggests shyly.
“How?”
She walks over to the rock garden and digs around in the dirt.
I wrinkle up my nose. “What are you doing?”
She picks something up.
“What’s that?”
“Flints.”
I watch, half amused, half fascinated as she stands over the barbecue, rubbing them furiously together.
“Alicia, I don’t think that’s going to work,”
She is so determined, that for a moment, I almost believe that the barbecue has started to smoulder, that there are wisps of hot, grey smoke rising from the coals. I can almost sense it in my nostrils, though it can only be a trick of the light.
“You found a lighter then,” says Deacon, when he comes back out.
“What?”
I glance back at the barbecue. It’s undeniable now. There are actual flames. I go over and hold my hands over them, unable to believe that they are being warmed by something Alicia created so quickly, so craftily.
“Nice work.”
“Alicia did it all herself!”
He looks at her approvingly, but I don’t think he gets my meaning.
“Nice,” he repeats. “Isabel, can you start setting out the food? Rhett’s still fannying about with the cocktails.”
People start to arrive. They are strangers, mostly; Rhett’s mates from the rugby club, their work colleagues and neighbours. No sign of Kate yet.
“Anything I can do to help?” I ask Deacon, a little bored.
“Yeah – can you watch the barbecue for a few minutes?”
“OK – where are you off to?”
“I promised your friend a tour of the house, remember?”
Something gets caught in my throat.
“On second thoughts, maybe someone else should mind the barbecue – I’d hate to burn the burgers! Here,” I pick up the tongs and hand them to the nearest man. “You can watch the barbecue for a bit, can’t you?”
I don’t even wait for his reply.
Deacon strides through the house, pointing out a window seat here and an antique dining table there. Alicia admires the baby grand piano in the sitting room and the grandfather clock in the hall. I know this house almost as well as I know my own, but I trail after them regardless, joining in with the oohs and aahs in the appropriate places. We explore various rooms on the first and second floors, and then head up the stairs to the third floor, Deacon’s room, which smells of his own distinctive scent.
It’s quite clean for a man’s room, apart from the unmade bed. He doesn’t seem the least bit concerned about this as he pushes open the French windows, through which there is a balcony that overlooks the water.
“I can’t believe you live here!” gasps Alicia. Her face is flushed with excitement as she watches the waves crash against the rocks below. He has picked just the right moment for this view, just as the sun is melting into the horizon.
“You’re so lucky,” she breathes.
Deacon smiles. “Yes, I suppose I am.”
She glances over at me. “Just imagine Isabel, to wake up every morning and see this incredible view.”
“I know,” I agree. “It’s must be heavenly.”
When we come back downstairs, I find Kate sitting by herself in the gazebo, sheltering from the heat. She holds a glass of wine in one hand and her wedding ring in the other.
“So what happened with Julio?” I ask softly.
“He wanted me to sign the divorce papers. He said he wanted to get married again – as soon as possible.”
“Oh Kate!”
But a tiny part of me is actually glad, because maybe now Kate can move on with her life and stop wishing for a reconciliation that’s never going to happen. I don’t really know what to say to her. I have no wise words. I’ve never been married. Never been divorced. I haven’t even been in a relationship for ages. What advice can I possibly give? The best thing I can think of is distraction. For the time being, at least.
“You’re never going to believe this!”
“What?”
Hurriedly, I tell her how Alicia got the barbecue going.
“She did it just by rubbing two stones together,” I exclaim. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Kate shrugs. “Maybe she was in the Girl Guides.”
“I was in the Girl Guides and I never learnt anything like that!”
But Kate seems more interested in the contents of her wine glass than in what I’m telling her.
“Talking of Alicia, I suppose I’d better see if she’s OK. She doesn’t know anyone here and she’s kind of shy. Do you want to come and meet her?”
“No – you go and find her. I’ll catch you up in a bit.”
I find Alicia sitting by the barbecue with Deacon. Her shyness seems to have completely evaporated and she is quite animated as she hands him a bottle of suntan cream. I blanch slightly as he pours some into his hand and rubs it into her pale shoulders.
I can’t see Rhett, or anyone else I recognise, so I go and stand on the edge of a throng of people. I stand there for a while, nodding and smiling as the others talk, but the only person who takes any notice of me is Deacon’s boss, whose jokes are so highbrow that I’ve no idea what he’s talking about.