She stands in front of the mirror, brushing her hair with a boar-bristle hairbrush. She doesn’t realise it, but the brush belongs to Rhett and Deacon’s mother, and this is the room she stays in when she comes to visit. The décor is floral and feminine, the walls papered in a delicate print that matches the thick quilted bedspread and pillows. There’s even a matching en suite.
“It sucks about the caravan park,” I say. “It was really lucky no one was hurt.”
“I know,” she agrees. “Really lucky. Now, do you think I should wear my hair up or down?”
“Down.”
“It’s just that it gets so big and frizzy if I leave it down.”
“Look, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you,” I say, coming to stand next to her in front of the mirror.
“Yeah?”
“How did you get Deacon’s barbecue to light?”
She stops mid brush stroke.
“What do you mean? I lit it with a match. You were there. You saw me.”
“Yes, I was there,” I say hesitantly. “But I saw you digging up flints.”
She laughs. “I found a box of matches down there. How do you think I did it, silly?”
I look at her uncertainly, but she looks me right in the eye and her face shows no signs of insincerity. Could it be that I was mistaken?
Alicia sets the brush down on the table.
“That’s better,” she says, with a satisfied smile.
I follow her back down to the kitchen, where Kate is setting the table.
“Do you like pancakes?” Rhett asks Alicia
“Who doesn’t?” Alicia smiles broadly.
What happened to all her shyness? It seems to have vanished again. As has her wildness. Her hair looks smooth and styled today, not like a bedraggled orphan at all.
“I’ll have some too, if you’re making them,” I invite myself. Rhett makes the best pancakes of anyone I know.
“Here, see if you can open this,” Kate says, handing me a bottle of syrup. “It feels like the lid’s been welded on.”
There is a definite colour in her cheeks this morning, I notice and a certain bounce in her step that I haven’t seen in ages. She has even ironed her shirt and put on some perfume, which is all very good, but at the same time a bit odd. I could have put last night’s miraculous recovery down to alcohol, but she certainly isn’t drunk now. It’s almost as if Alicia has wiped all memory of Julio from her mind. I wonder what on earth she said to her?
I turn my attention to the bottle of syrup I’m supposed to be opening, clench it tight and yank as hard as I can, my face screwed up in concentration. Deacon strides in from the garden, and leans against the counter, watching my attempts with an amused look on his face.
“Here, give me that!”
He wrenches it from my grasp and twists off the lid as if it were no harder than opening a bottle of ketchup.
“I loosened it for you!” I say in my defence.
Deacon just laughs.
Rhett serves the pancakes and we all sit around the table, talking about the fire. It appears to have been a fierce one. Left a big, depressing cloud over the whole of Queensbeach. I doubt much of the caravan park survived.
Nonetheless, Alicia wants to know if any of her stuff survived, so we walk down there after breakfast to have a look. It’s not good news. Not even the outer fence has been left intact. The place looks like a meteorite has hit it. It has literally been flattened – and blackened. Not a single, frazzled piece of grass remains, just the burned-out shells of the caravans and a whole lot of mess and mud.
“Hey, that’s the owner,” Deacon whispers to me, as a plump, balding man approaches. I recognise him as one of the men who were trying to put the fire out the night before.
“Looks bad, doesn’t it?” he says, looking around at the charred remains.
“It happened so quickly,” Deacon says. “There was really nothing you could do.”
“No, I suppose not. Shame the fire brigade didn’t get here quicker, but not their fault. Apparently, there was a bloody great van blocking the road.”
“Do you know what caused the fire?” I chip in.
He shakes his head. “No, the police are investigating.”
“They’re not ruling out arson then?” I ask, with one eye on Alicia, who has gone to examine the place where her caravan used to be. I can’t help it; I have to know.
“It seems unlikely. We’ve never had any of that kind of trouble round here before.”
“It is a pretty quiet neighbourhood,” Deacon agrees. “I hope you’ll be covered by the insurance?”
“Should be, although you know what insurance companies are like. It’ll be like pulling teeth.” He looks guiltily in Alicia’s direction. “We won’t be covered for anything that was in the vans, I’m afraid. There wasn’t supposed to be anyone living in them. We’d been renovating.”
“So how come Alicia was staying here?” I ask curiously,
“I felt sorry for her,” he says. “I found her sleeping rough on the beach, poor lass. I told her she could stay in one of my vans if she didn’t mind the mess. I even gave her some of my daughter’s old clothes. Of course they’ll all have gone up in smoke now.”
“Well, that settles it then,” Deacon says, as we walk back over to the others. “Alicia will have to stay with us for the meanwhile. She clearly has nowhere else to go,”
“Are you sure?” I ask. “I mean, you barely know the girl.”
He pats me on the shoulder. “She’s your friend, isn’t she? That’s all I need to know.”
“Well,” I say faintly, “that’s very… kind of you.”
I bite my lip, wondering if I should tell him about my misgivings about Alicia. But what if I’m wrong? I wouldn’t want her to end up homeless because of me, nor do I want to invite her to live with me. In fact, I’m more reluctant now than ever.
I owe her, I remind myself.
She still hasn’t said a word to anyone about me nearly running her over. I don’t think I’d ever hear the end of it if Deacon got wind.
“Hey, Isabel – what are you doing this afternoon?” Kate calls out.
“I don’t know. I was thinking of going to the gym.”
“I ought to go too – get my money’s worth,” she pulls a face, “but I really can’t be arsed.”
“It is rather pricey,” I agree, “but luckily for me my free trial has been extended for another six months. Can you believe it? The manager called to tell me last week.”
Kate’s eyes bulge. “You’re kidding! The first chunk came out of my bank account last month. No one offered me an extension. How did you get so lucky?”
“I’ve no idea!”
It’s kind of strange, now that I think about it. Why am I getting a special deal, while Kate has to pay? After all, we joined at the same time.
“Anyway, I was going to suggest we take Alicia shopping this afternoon,” she continues. “She’s going to need some new clothes. I’m sure we can have a whip round to pay for it.”
“Sounds good,” I smile. After all, it can’t hurt to get to know her a little better. Perhaps a shopping trip is just what we need to defuse some of the mystery.
Kate is right. Our friends and neighbours are very generous. Everyone wants to help out when they hear about the fire.
“I’d come with you,” says Rhett, handing me a tenner for Alicia’s clothing fund. “But I’m working this afternoon and it’s double bubble. Let me know if you see any nice winter coats though.”
“Like you need another coat!” I laugh. Rhett has the best wardrobe of anyone I know.
So it’s just the three of us who hit the shops that afternoon. It feels a little weird bringing a stranger along on a shopping trip, but Alicia fits in well – singing along to all the cheesy songs we listen to on the way and laughing in all the right places when Kate and I joke around. And although this shopping trip was supposed to be for Alicia, Kate and I stack up at least as many bags as she does. I even manage to persuade Kate to try on a couple of dresses. She doesn’t buy any of them, but even trying them on is progress for someone who lives in jeans and combats.