I edge away, picking up a platter of party snacks to offer around. I usually find food to be a good ice-breaker.
“Thanks,” says a guy with floppy brown hair, “I love olives.”
“Me too.”
He’s not my type, but I smile back anyway, grateful to be acknowledged.
“So how do you know Rhett and Deacon?” I ask.
Before he can answer, a small, busty woman flounces over and wedges herself in between us. I give a resigned shrug and move along. Sometimes I forget the rules. As a single woman, I can’t monopolise any man for longer than five seconds, lest his wife or girlfriend thinks I’m trying to steal him.
I venture further down the garden. There’s some great music playing and I wouldn’t mind a dance, but I can’t find anyone to dance with. Who are all these people? Why did Rhett and Deacon have to invite them all?
Disheartened, I let myself out of the back gate and wander down to the beach, which is covered in sandwich wrappers and drink cans from the sudden influx of visitors. I glare, as the last of them climb back into their coach, singing and laughing as they drive off.
There is a refreshing breeze in the air now. I slip off my heels and pick my way along the cool, soft sand. I’m ruining my Armani tights, but I no longer care. This beach has a lost, desolate beauty that I’ve always found mesmerising. The noise of the party fades away as I listen to the rhythmic sound of the waves, lapping in and out.
“Isabel? What are you doing out here?”
I turn to find Deacon watching me with a bemused expression on his face.
“Oh, I don’t know, just thinking.”
“About what?”
I shrug. He slips an arm around me. “Come back to the party, it’s getting cold out here.”
I’m not sure what’s changed – maybe it’s the drop in temperature, but when we return to the party, it has a completely different vibe. Everyone seems to have mellowed, and there are a lot more people dancing. I wonder briefly if Rhett’s slipped something into their cocktails.
“Are my eyes deceiving me, or is that Kate on the dance floor?” Deacon exclaims.
I look out and see her next to Alicia, laughing and dancing like she hasn’t a care in the world.
“She’s a little treasure, your friend,” Rhett says, handing me a drink. “I don’t know what she said to Kate, but it seems to have done the trick.”
I shake my head in bewilderment, wondering what Alicia will do next.
When they emerge, giggling from the dance floor, they look more like old friends than two people who met not more than half an hour ago.
“You two look like you were having a good time,” I comment.
“The best,” Kate agrees, with a grin. “Alicia is so funny!”
She is?
“So what were you giggling at?”
She glances at Alicia. “Oh you know, just stuff.”
What stuff? I want to ask, but I don’t get the chance. There is a loud bang that makes us all jump. Someone is hammering on the door. Deacon rushes over to investigate. It’s one of the guests who’s just left the party.
“Quick, call the fire brigade!”
“Why? What’s happened?”
“The caravan park is on fire!”
Chapter Four
The sky is black with smoke. Bits of obliterated caravan float gracefully in the wind, spreading the fire to neighbouring trees and bushes.
“Keep back,” Deacon warns, moving nonetheless closer to the blaze.
“Deacon!” I call after him, my eyes stinging from the fumes.
Two men stand on the sidelines, showering the flames with what looks like a garden hose. They might as well be sprinkling confetti for all the good it’s doing.
“Is anybody hurt?” Deacon calls out to them.
“We don’t know!” the older man yells back.
“There’s a young woman staying here and nobody’s seen her since the fire started.” He looks back towards the coast road. “Where’s the bloody fire brigade?”
Then his eyes fall on Alicia and he heaves a huge sigh of relief.
“Thank god! She’s here, Dan! She’s safe!”
Deacon looks uncertainly at Alicia.
“That’s what I was trying to tell you,” I hiss. “She lives here.”
“Lived here,” he corrects me, quick to recover his composure. “Look at that inferno! This place has had it.”
Kate slips her arm around Alicia, who is staring, mesmerised by the flames.
“You OK?”
Alicia doesn’t reply.
“She’s probably in shock,” Deacon whispers. “Take her back to the house – get her a cup of tea or something.”
“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. Aren’t you coming?”
“No, I think I’ll stay until the fire brigade gets here.”
“OK. Don’t be a hero.” I give him a wink, but deep down, I wish he would just come back to the house.
Back at the Beach House, I watch as Rhett and Kate fuss over Alicia, but I can’t participate. Something is bothering me. I just can’t put my finger on it.
We are all still up when Deacon returns a little later.
“Is it as bad as we thought?”
He nods. “There’s not much left of the caravans, but they’ve managed to prevent it from spreading any further.”
He looks across the table at Alicia. “You’ll have to stay here tonight.”
Alicia has gone all shy again. She looks down at her hands. “I don’t want to impose.”
“Nonsense, you’ve seen the place – we’ve got plenty of room. Now, do you need to call anyone?”
She shakes her head.
“Are you sure?”
“Quite.”
She lets out a big yawn and covers her mouth and I’m not sure, but I think I see her smile through her hand.
I am awoken by someone stomping about on my stomach. I push Fluffy off and sit up. In the cold light of day, my concerns about Alicia seem silly, laughable even. Obviously, what she did at the barbecue was some kind of stunt, a party trick. She’s just an ordinary girl. She can’t create fire out of nothing, no one can. The nearly getting run over, the fire at the caravan park – it must all just be some strange coincidence. After all, what reason would Alicia have for setting fire to the place where she’s staying? And how could she, when she was at the party all evening?
Downstairs, I find the answer phone blinking. I press play and smile to myself as Mum’s chirpy voice fills the room.
“Hello Izzy, are you there dear? Auntie Jean and I have booked ourselves on a fabulous Over 60’s break to Morocco! Isn’t that fun? It’s over the Christmas holidays. I do hope you don’t mind? Give me a ring, dear, and I’ll tell you all about it… “
Once I’m showered and dressed, I drive over to Rhett and Deacon’s to help with the post party clean-up, but to my delight, Rhett is putting the last of the dirty glasses into the dishwasher as I arrive. Deacon is still sweeping up in the garden, but I decide to leave him to it.
“Is Alicia up yet?” I ask Rhett. “I was hoping to have a word with her.”
“Why don’t you go and see?” he says, pouring some powder into the dishwasher. “She’s upstairs in the White Room.”
I head up the stairs to the first floor. The White Room is next to Rhett’s. The door swings open before I even knock. Alicia greets me as if she’s been expecting me. She is wearing the same gypsy skirt she had on yesterday plus a designer jumper of Rhett’s which shrank in the wash.
“Hi. Mind if I come in?”
“Course not.”
I plump myself down on the bed.
“This is a lovely room.”
“Yes, Deacon let me choose whichever one I wanted.”