It was a very luxurious hotel. They had a huge balcony, where room service delivered their meal, lit candles for them, and gave Ella a great big white orchid, which she put in her hair. "I'm so happy here," she said.
"Tomorrow I have to trek off and meet people, do things, set up things. Will you be all right on your own?"
"Of course I will. I'll just lie out here and read. And get suntanned. And maybe trip up and down to the pool."
"Good girl. I'll be back by seven at the latest." He smiled lazily at her over his Spanish brandy.
"Will you take the car?" she asked innocently.
She saw his eyes narrow momentarily. "I might, Angel, I might not. I'll see, okay?"
"Sure. I didn't want you to tire yourself out, that's all."
He relaxed.
Next morning she watched from the balcony as he went off on his list of meetings. A woman picked him up in the forecourt of the hotel. A woman who looked very like his wife Margery. The day seemed endless. There were just so many times you could swim up and down a pool. The thriller she had bought at Dublin airport didn't hold her attention. She wasn't hungry enough for the hotel buffet.
She took a taxi into town to the harbour and had a glass of wine, some cheese and olives as she looked at the boats bobbing up and down and the tourists walking up and down. She would not ask him. It could have been anyone. She would not call Margery Richardson's house back in Killiney. What would it prove if she were not there? Either you trusted someone or you did not. It was as simple as that. And she must have been mistaken, he would have told her if Margery were in Spain. But suppose just for a moment that Margery were here. After all, she was still involved in her father's business. She had a right to be here. The marriage was over. How often had he told her this? He had taken her on this magical holiday because he loved her and wanted to be with her . . . Wouldn't Ella be very silly to make a big scene about it? However much it cost her, she would say nothing.
It was very hard not to ask innocent questions that could sound like an interrogation. So when he returned in time for a swim in the sunset, Ella asked nothing. He was very loving. She had been insane to imagine that he had met up with his ex-wife or estranged wife or whatever she was. Nobody who loved her the way Don did, so passionately, could have spent the day with another woman. Then he said he had to do a bit of work, check that he had all the notes of today's work in his computer, and make the backup disk. She sat and watched him dreamily.
"Order up some supper, Angel. I'll be through in half an hour," he said.
She ordered asparagus and a plate of grilled prawns to follow.
"Was it a tiring day?" she asked.
She had considered the remark for a long time. There was surely no way he could take offence at that.
He looked at her and took her hand. "It was, Angel, very tiring. People are very greedy, you know. A lot of my clients want the sun, moon and stars, and then some more. They think they own me."
"You don't need them that badly, do you?"
"We do, really, Angel. Ricky always says that they are the most demanding, the ex-pats, they have nothing to do all day except play golf, swim and read their portfolios."
"Why can't they come back to Dublin to see you?" she asked innocently.
"Why do you think?" His face was hard.
She realised that a lot of them were tax exiles; some of them might have even more pressing need to stay away.
"Sorry," she said.
He got up and went over to kneel beside her. "No, I'm the one that's sorry. One of these guys just insists I spend a couple of nights in his hacienda, as he calls it ... He won't let me stay all alone in a hotel."
"No!" She was shocked.
"Yes, I'm afraid I have to. What do I tell Ricky? That I won't go out to a huge place with two swimming pools, billiard room, and the works ..."
"He can't eat into your private time, Don . . ."
"He doesn't see it as private time. Please don't make a scene, Ella. I'm so upset myself already, I couldn't bear it if you .. ."
"No, of course I won't."
"Thank you." He kissed her on the forehead. Then she saw him moving towards the big carved chest of drawers.
"Not tonight, Don?"
"He insists. I'm so very sorry. You know how little I want it. This was meant to be our time." He said it with his hands spread out in mystification.
She must be very careful not to upset him, but she was so annoyed she could barely speak. Imagine her sitting here like a
fool in a big posh hotel, while Don played billiards and swam with some tax dodger, or worse. To please his father-in-law.
"Don't be silent on me, Angel."
"No, of course not. Let's get you packed. The sooner you"re gone the sooner you're back."
He looked very relieved. A row averted.
She watched him pack. Don Richardson, the fastidious man who was going away for three days, took one shirt, one change of underwear. And his laptop computer.
She told him she would be just fine and that she would dress up and cruise the swimming pool and find a new companion. She would have forgotten his name when he got back.
"Don't forget me, Angel. I am the great love of your life. As you are of mine. One of the reasons I'm doing all this nonsense is so that we can be free to spend long years together, in places like this where I can throw the laptop out into the sea and we never have to go and be nice to boring old clients who are semi-crooks. Do you believe me?"
Ella did. Why else would he have taken her out to Spain if he didn't love her? It "was a long two and a half days, but she kept busy. She went on a bus tour of the area. They passed a cluster of very wealthy homes.
"They all have two swimming pools and billiard rooms and mountain views from one side and sea views from the other," the guide said proudly. "Mainly English and Irish people, who come very often here," he added.
It could be the very place where Don was playing billiards to please his father-in-law, Ella thought. She noted what it was called: Play a de los Angeles. Place or beach of the Angels. How ironic it would be if he had to leave his own Angel for a place with the same name. "Did you find a new love?" Don asked when he came back, two and a half days later.
"No, did you?" she laughed.
"No, but I'm weary. Can our vacation begin now, Angel?"
So she knew there would be no chat about the client who'd insisted on taking up all his time and wrecking their holiday.
Don spent a lot of time at the laptop, more than she would have liked. When she woke he was tapping away. Often, after they made love in the evening, he slipped from the bed and seemed to come to life again at the little screen. That's today's world, she told herself. He is doing it so that we can have all these years together when the time comes. "Will we go through separately?" Ella asked at Dublin airport.
"Why?" Don was mystified.
"Well, in case anyone sees us," Ella said.
"Like who?"
"Like Margery," she said.
"But how could she see us? Isn't she still in Spain?" he asked, confused.
So she had been right. Margery had been in Spain after all. "Ella, it's your mother," Don called out.
Usually he didn't answer the phone in her flat, but he had been waiting for an urgent call and had given the number.
"Thanks, Don. Hi, Mother."
"Oh, Don is there, I gather." Her mother sounded both doubtful and disapproving.
"Yes, we were just about to go out to a reception together. He said he'd pick me up. Well, what's new?"
"When will you be on your own?"
I beg your pardon?"
"Can I talk to you when you are alone?"
"Talk away, Mother."
"Call me back when you are free to talk." She hung up.
"Shit," Ella said.
"Something wrong?" Don raised his eyes from the computer.