“Oh, come on. You know what I mean, Tess.”
“Well, he hasn’t said anything, obviously.” I can imagine her rolling her eyes as she says this, “but he spends most of his time in the luxury bus they brought with them – he’s kitted it out as a mobile office of sorts – I hardly see him.”
“And Serena?”
“She’s dealing with Valerie.”
I hear the dislike, albeit carefully hidden, behind Tess’ mention of Christopher’s teenage vampire daughter.
“Let me guess,” I snort, “Little Miss Bitchface isn’t one for the country.”
“That might be a bit of an understatement,” Tess sighs, “but Serena is sorting her out. I’m just staying out of the way, really.”
“Tess,” I shake my head, “don’t feel like a stranger in your own home.”
“Oh, I’m not,” she brightens, “I’ve got three extra pairs of hands to help with the decorating now, really, once they settle.”
I hear her fake enthusiasm fade as the sentence goes on, and I can’t help but laugh.
“I don’t think you’ve got a hope in hell of Christopher or Valerie lifting a finger to help you. But when I return, I’ll come and stay, and we’ll really cut into some of that serious renovation,” I promise her, “I’ll be cashed up – I might even put a jacuzzi on the roof.”
“You will do no such thing,” she laughs, “this is a heritage property, and I am doing it up sympathetically.”
“Jokes, Tess, just jokes. I’m going now, I’ve got to tour a little more of this property before Tristan gets here.”
“Oooh,” she breathes, “and how are you getting on with Christopher’s twin – is he like his brother?”
“No,” I frown, “I mean in looks, yeah, and he’s also a rich man who is used to getting his own way, obviously. But he’s not a pig like Christopher.”
“Sounds promising,” I hear the suggestion in her words.
“No chance,” I shake my head, “so shove that romantic head of yours where the sun doesn’t shine and forget it; he’s engaged.”
“Handsome, is he?” she asks slyly.
“Tess,” I growl, “he’s an identical twin.”
“And Serena tells me you find him irresistible….we will talk soon, Pru,” she laughs.
I can literally hear her organising another wedding in her head.
“Pru,” I sigh and shake my head, “if you heard Christopher shouting then you know I’ve already tried to bite Tristan more than once – I’m no Serena or Charlotte. And speaking of which,” I don’t want to broach the subject, but I do, “how is Serena? Has she forgiven me yet? I still haven’t heard from her.”
“Give her time,” Tess sighs, “I’m going now. I miss you. Try not to eat Christopher’s brother, he’s family now.”
“Yeah, so he tells me,” I sigh, once more upset that Serena is still angry with me, “I’ll speak with you soon, Tess. I miss you too.”
I hang up and stare for a long time at the ground, blinking back tears, before shaking my head and focussing back on my surroundings.
Turning, I stomp across the stretch of wasteland that will soon become one of several walled gardens and enter the olive groves. I need to run, to get this energy out, shake off this despair over Serena’s anger at me, my anger over Christopher’s call, the unfairness of having his brother be irresistible to me.
‘Why did Tristan even tell Christopher I’d tried to bite him. Can’t he keep one fucking thing to himself? Jesus, they probably tell each other every time they take a dump.’
Snorting, I drop my phone and slip off my shoes – I run best barefoot.
Straightening up, I look into the distance at the olive-covered mountains and, replaying Christopher’s threat in my mind, decide I will need averylong run.
A movement to my right draws my attention, and I flick my eyes to where I see Tristan stepping out from behind an olive tree growing amid chest-high ruins.
