The Perfect Retreat

CHAPTER SIXTEEN




Kitty stood in the ballroom and wondered where Merritt and Willow had gone. She felt alone and out of place, aware of the cameras and self-conscious. She wanted to disappear to her room and put on her tracksuit bottoms and warm cardigan and watch Britain’s Got Talent. I wonder if I snuck out if anyone would notice, she thought, and she edged towards the ballroom doors. As she tried to move through them she tripped on a cable and went sprawling into the hallway. Lifting her head she saw a pair of shining dress shoes in front of her eyes.

‘You OK?’ she heard, and she knew whose voice it was before she had tried to lift herself from the ground.

She felt strong arms lift her up and she peered into Ivo’s face.

‘Hello,’ he said, and smiled at her.

‘Um, hi,’ she said, and tried to pull herself together.

Ivo glanced down at her and then looked back at her face. ‘Your breasts are lovely, but I don’t think it’s quite in keeping with current fashion.’

Kitty frowned at him. ‘This is how they wore it back then,’ she said huffily.

‘Really?’ smiled Ivo. He stood back, crossed his arms and looked down at her chest.

Kitty stared at him. ‘Are you alright?’ she asked.

‘Fine actually. I could stare at your breast all day if you let me.’

Kitty looked down and saw that part of her breast had fallen out of her dress when she had tripped and the edge of her nipple was on display. ‘F*ck,’ she said and tried to tuck it back in.

‘Yes please,’ said Ivo.

‘What?’ She looked at him horrified.

‘I thought you were offering, displaying your wares et cetera,’ laughed Ivo.

‘You’re gross,’ said Kitty, reprimanding herself for liking such a lascivious prick. Clearly he was just like every other guy she knew.

‘Not gross, but horny, definitely,’ he said, and Kitty made a face at him.

‘Go away. To think, all these years,’ she said, shaking her head as she walked away.

‘Kitty, Kitty!’ She heard a female voice call her name and turned to see the babysitter Willow had hired from an agency in London walking quickly towards her.

‘Hi. Is everything alright?’ Kitty asked.

‘Not really. It’s Lucian. He refuses to go to bed and instead he’s under it and he won’t come out,’ she said, exasperated. ‘I’m sorry to interrupt you.’

‘Oh, it’s OK. I was coming upstairs anyway,’ she said pointedly to Ivo who was watching with interest.

‘You go back to your hotel and I’ll take care of it,’ said Kitty.

‘You sure?’ asked the woman, obviously happy to be away from the child who didn’t speak.

‘It’s fine. Get your things and I’ll sort it out,’ said Kitty as she followed the babysitter up the stairs to the children’s rooms. The woman grabbed her bag and ran down the stairs, only too happy to get away.

Kitty went to her room, pulled off the dress, put on her tracksuit bottoms and a t-shirt and cardigan and padded into Poppy and Lucian’s room. Ivo watched her from the corner of the hallway. She was unaware of his presence, and she left the bedroom door open.

Poppy was sleeping peacefully in one of the twin beds. Kitty sat on the floor.

‘Hello Luce. It’s Kits. How are things under the bed? Find any treasures like Poppy?’ she asked gently.

Silence greeted her questions, so Kitty tried a new tactic. ‘Lucian, how about you come out and we go on an adventure?’

Lucian remained under the bed. Kitty had a flash of inspiration and got up from the floor. She sprinted down to Merritt’s room.

Looking around, she opened his wardrobe, and reaching up to the top shelf she found what she was searching for. She came back quickly with her prize, and sitting on the floor she started to talk.

‘Poor Custard. Nobody loves him any more. What’s that?’ she asked.

‘Ah, yes, I know you miss Merritt, but he’s all grown up now. I don’t know anyone who can look after you,’ she said and waited. Silence greeted her. ‘You want someone to look after you? Poor Custard, I’m sure there might be someone here. I would ask Lucian but he’s under the bed and won’t come out,’ she said sadly.

Ivo stood hidden by the door watching Kitty as she spoke to a worn teddy bear.

‘Perhaps if Lucian would come out then he might be your new friend. I know that Merritt would love if he would help you, Custard,’ she said, and Ivo saw a small blond head pop out from under the bed. The small boy looked at the object of Kitty’s conversation and waited.

Kitty continued as though Lucian was still under the bed. ‘Don’t cry, Custard. I’m sure I can find you someone to love and take care of you. Perhaps Poppy, although you may end up wearing jewels and covered in crayons; or Jinty, but she only likes to suck things.’

Lucian darted out from under the bed and snatched Custard from Kitty’s hand.

‘Hello Luce,’ she said, as though him being under the bed was perfectly normal. ‘This is Custard. He was Merritt’s friend, but he has been so lonely. Do you think you can look after him for Merritt? I asked him and he said it was fine.’

Lucian held the bear close to his face as though he was inhaling it and he kissed it. It was the most affection he had ever shown anything, and Kitty smiled at him joyfully. ‘Will you take good care of him, Luce?’ she asked, and Lucian nodded slowly. Kitty felt her heart bursting.

‘I love you Lucian,’ she said as she scooped the small boy up and popped him into bed. ‘Now Custard is very tired and needs to sleep. Will you lie here with him while he sleeps?’ Lucian snuggled down under the covers and Kitty kissed his head. ‘Goodnight darling,’ she said, and she left the room, closing the door behind her.

‘I know you,’ she heard behind her and she spun around to find Ivo leaning against the wall.

‘What are you doing up here?’ she asked angrily. ‘Were you spying on me?’

‘Yes,’ answered Ivo simply. ‘I know you from Willow’s party. You helped that child leave the party when he was in some sort of train trance,’ he said.

‘I don’t remember you,’ lied Kitty.

‘Really? We spoke in the kitchen for a while.’

‘Nope, don’t remember,’ said Kitty as she walked towards the nanny quarters, where the heating worked best, desperate for a cup of tea.

Ivo followed her down the hall and into the room.

‘You shouldn’t be here.’ Kitty felt nervous in his presence.

‘Maybe, but the ball is boring and you are much more fun,’ he said as he walked in and sat on one of the armchairs. ‘You did well with the kid. He’s not right, yeah?’ he asked.

‘He’s fine,’ bristled Kitty as she set about making the tea.

‘I’ll have mine black with one sugar,’ he said.

Kitty frowned, but took an extra mug down and dumped a teabag in it.

‘Where’s their mother?’ asked Ivo.

‘I have no idea,’ said Kitty.

‘With the gardener no doubt,’ laughed Ivo. ‘It’s all very D H Lawrence isn’t it?’

‘Who’s D H Lawrence?’ asked Kitty in spite of herself.

‘The writer? Wrote Lady Chatterley’s Lover? The book about the lady who has an affair with her gardener. Or perhaps it was a gamekeeper,’ he mused to himself.

‘I haven’t read it,’ said Kitty.

‘Then you must,’ said Ivo. ‘I’m Ivo, by the way,’ he offered.

‘Kitty,’ she offered in return.

‘I know,’ he said.

‘How do you know?’

‘Lady Chatterley told me when I asked about you, and I remember you told me when I met you in her kitchen in London.’

Kitty said nothing, wondering what Willow had told him about her. Then she spoke quickly. ‘How do you know about Willow and Merritt?’ she asked.

‘Is that his name?’ asked Ivo. ‘I saw them snogging in the garden yesterday,’ he said, his eyes glinting in the lamplight.

‘Really?’ asked Kitty, intrigued. Merritt had got to work fast, she thought.

‘Yes, all very sexy,’ said Ivo, stretching out his long legs and putting them on the worn ottoman in front of him.

‘Wow,’ said Kitty, breathing heavily. ‘I hope this doesn’t end badly,’ she said aloud.

‘Why does it concern you? Probably just a quick f*ck while she’s on location,’ said Ivo, looking at her cardigan straining against her breasts.

‘Well, Merritt’s my brother,’ said Kitty with a shrug of the shoulders.

‘Ah yes, then it could be a problem.’

Kitty put the tea beside him on the table and sat opposite him. ‘Do you like being an actor?’ she asked politely.

‘Dunno yet. This is my first real job,’ said Ivo, blowing on his tea. ‘Do you like being a nanny?’ he asked.

‘I suppose it’s alright. I don’t think I’d be much good at anything else,’ she said. ‘I like the children. I love them actually.’ She smiled and Ivo thought how lovely her face was when she felt joy.

‘You didn’t go to university?’ he asked.

‘No.’

‘Why not?’

‘I didn’t want to,’ snapped Kitty.

Ivo put the tea down and looked at the pile of worn leather journals. Kitty had taken them out of her room and left them there.

‘What are these?’ he asked.

Kitty looked at him. ‘Are you always so nosy and rude?’ she asked.

‘I’m not being rude, I just asked what these are,’ he said, not looking up from the journals, which were now in his elegant hands.

‘They’re journals. They were found last week but I haven’t had time to go through them yet,’ she said.

‘Look at this handwriting. It’s like art,’ he said, turning the pages carefully. ‘Some of it’s in French,’ he said. ‘Do you speak French?’

‘No.’

‘I do. I could translate it for you if you like,’ he said.

Kitty paused. She had promised Merritt she would go through them, but now they were in French she had a perfect excuse.

‘Really? You would do that for me?’ she asked, her dark eyes narrowing.

‘Absolutely, on one condition,’ he said, looking at her.

‘What?’ she asked carefully.

‘You show me your other boob,’ he said, and Kitty laughed at him.

‘Very funny!’

‘No, I’ll do this for you and you can help me with my lines. I only got the script yesterday and it’s so wordy. Would you?’

Kitty felt her stomach sink, and she tried not to look at him as she felt tears pricking her eyes. She could think of nothing better than to help this gorgeous, flirtatious man, the one she had been thinking of for so long, with his lines – any excuse to spend time with him – but instead she looked away.

‘I don’t think so, I’m really busy with the children. Sorry.’

Ivo looked at her closely, his eyes narrowing a little. ‘No drama, I can learn them on my own. But I would still like to help you with these; gives me something to do besides learn lines and chase you.’

Kitty looked up at him quickly to see if he was serious and she saw he was. He raised an eyebrow at her, as if to say, If you’ll let me.

‘If you want,’ she said quietly.

‘What? Read the journals or chase you?’ he asked, leaning forward, and Kitty felt her face flush.

‘The journals, of course.’ But her face gave her away and Ivo winked at her, the tiniest of winks, and Kitty felt her stomach give way to butterflies.

‘Then the journals it is,’ said Ivo, and he drained his tea, picked up the books and headed to the door. ‘Night p-ssy- cat. Sleep tight.’

And then he left, and Kitty breathed a sigh of relief and disappointment.