chapter 9
He had his back to her, inaccessible, staring through the window. “I don’t need to explain anything,” he snapped. “So don’t tell me I do.”
“You condescending shit!” Kat hardly believed her ears.
“You should trust me!” He suddenly swung around, annunciating each word carefully. “We can’t continue if you don’t trust me?”
“Trust?” Kat looked incredulous. “That’s exactly what’s been broken.”
“Of course it hasn’t.”
“Don’t you understand, I did trust you. You’ve let me down. I feel… sullied.”
“Don’t be so hysterical.”
“Don’t you dare.” Her voice sounded brittle. “Don’t ever tell me I’m hysterical.”
“Then calm down.”
“Are you denying there was a party? Are you denying you threw a party for Francine and her… her tarts?”
He shrugged.
“And are you denying the stupid bitches ran around naked?” Kat balled her fists, close to breaking. “You’ve been laughing at me behind my back. You took me for a fool. The two people, I needed to be sure of, let me down.”
She searched his face for remorse but found none. He wasn’t listening. He didn’t understand, or didn’t want to understand how much he’d hurt her. It would mean accepting responsibility, and he didn’t intend to. What sort of man had she become involved with?
“I can’t answer for anyone else,” he said, “But I did nothing to hurt you.”
“Well you have, damn you.”
“I’m telling you I haven’t.”
“It isn’t the first time is it?” Kat could not stop shaking. “How often do you hold orgies? A regular thing, once a month at Rafael’s? Have a ball, girls, take your clothes off, let it hang out at Rafael’s?”
“I would breach a confidence if I explained.”
She stared at him in disbelief. “Are you crazy or what?”
“For Christ’s sake stop making an issue. I made a promise, accept it. I never break a promise.”
How could he behave like this when she was so distressed? He didn’t even try to ease the pain. “Perhaps you don’t,” she said furiously. “But you don’t mind hurting people, do you?”
“This is beyond a joke.”
Kat drew back her hand and with all her strength, slapped him across the face. She had never hit anyone before and was surprised to see she left a blotch across his cheek, white, fast turning red.
He touched the welt. “Are you satisfied now?”
Tears spiralled to her eyes. She sagged, struggled to control her voice. “You bastard! I’m through. I’m going home now.”
“This is no time for tantrums. Valencia is in a few days.”
“F*ck Valencia!”
***
The window of the hotel room was thrown wide open and she stood by it to cool. The sun had gone and soon it would be dark. For now twilight softened things, but it was still hot, hot and humid.
Heat in England was so different from Spain. Spain had a drier quality, which made it more acceptable. Humidity made English heat almost unbearable, but UK had twilight. In Spain, twilight was almost non-existent. Twilight brought comfort.
Sea-waves crashed, spraying high into the air. On the sand a handful of youngsters still played ball, accompanied by peals of laughter.
It seemed forever since Kat last managed to laugh. She stared as the children played. Had it really been a lifetime since she’d been carefree?
She was besieged with attacks of conscience, though his actions justified her walking out. Night was worse, with nothing left to focus on. Betrayal could be crippling. It ate away at you. The two people closest had deceived her and she had reacted accordingly. She wasn’t proud though. Rafael might be guilty, but her actions may well ruin the company, and dozens of innocent lives. To ruin a fellow human might be the ultimate revenge, but to take a business down was something quite different. How many lives would be wrecked?
Valencia would turn into a disaster.
She’d come to this hotel to leave the tawdry episode, to the place she’d spent time as a youngster… yet the chapter wouldn’t go away.
Memories here were good, probably the happiest place she could think of, and she felt warm and comfortable. They’d been a family then, mum, dad and her; they’d dug sandcastles; paddled in the sea and watched Punch and Judy. On Sundays they’d gone to the bandstand and listened to men in uniform blow trumpets until they were red in the face.
Her leaving Las Modas Ibéricas must have knocked them for six. Rafael’s reputation would be in tatters. His Papá would no doubt lay all the blame at his feet. Serve him right.
She heard squeals from the beach and she saw a lad chasing a girl. He caught and kissed her then collapsed into the sand and pulled her with him in a fit of giggles. They could only have been thirteen or fourteen. Afterward, the girl pushed the boy away with embarrassment.
Kat touched her lips unconsciously; how many times had Rafael kissed her? Perhaps she’d presented a challenge, proof that he could still pull whatever woman he wished.
More fool her, she’d fallen for it; there was no doubt he’d won.
Kat couldn’t believe how easily she’d been duped, but persuading people was one of his skills. He was a manager of people; an accomplished manipulator, and proud of it.
For a while she had hurtled out of control, a traveller caught on a train with no stops, unable to get off without getting hurt. It had been a hell of a whirlwind ride, but at last she’d jumped off.
She had forgotten relationships were out of the question. Her emotions had become confused, she had let sentiments take over, had broken her rules.
Spume flew into the air creating curtains of mist. The children had moved further along the sand and the only sound was the wash of heavy waves.
Rafael had been the cause of his own downfall, of course. He had forgotten to get her to sign the binding contract that would have kept her tightly secured to Las Modas Ibéricas. He perhaps hadn’t thought it necessary. Maybe he’d trusted her.
Trust was for fools. She’d trusted him, and where had it got her?
How was he reacting? Intense anger she supposed; he was probably sitting at the villa, plotting how to get back at her. Let him. Nothing he could do would affect her; she’d already been hurt too much… or was she being naïve, was there more to come?
Kat wafted her face with a magazine. She walked away from the window, slipped off her flimsy clothes, dug out a bikini from the drawer, and wriggled into it. Over it she slipped a short yellow beach jacket, put on a pair of leather flip-flops, and made her way down the hotel swimming pool.
High walls protected the area from wind. During the day an artificial waterfall usually cascaded into the pool, but now it was evening it was turned off. Only an occasional plop of water came from it.
She dived in.
As she surfaced a woman came over and said, “What’s the water like?”
Kat wiped water from her face. “Great.”
“I think I might join you?”
“And why not?”
The middle-aged woman slipped into the pool. “I enjoy it like this, when there’s hardly anyone else around.”
“Same here. I feel as if I can breathe. Too many people around make me claustrophobic.”
Kat swam a few lengths then floated on her back staring at the silent waterfall with its slash of purple petunias stark against white limestone. It reminded her of the bougainvillea at the villa.
“A penny for them.”
“Sorry?”
“Thinking about a man, I suppose.” The woman swam to her side. “I know that look.”
“I suppose.”
“Take advice from an experienced loser. Don’t let him spoil your life. No one is worth that.”
Kat scraped hair from her face. “You’re right. I knew exactly what he was like. I promised I wouldn’t get involved, but it made no difference.”
“It’s always the same, pet. Good girls get hurt, bad ones get away with it.”
Kat smiled thinly. Good girl? Had her actions really been justified or was she one of the bad ones? Between them, Rafael and Francine had destroyed her, but now she had probably destroyed a lot of others besides him. Revenge didn’t seem so sweet now.
After a shower, she went for a stroll along the shore. A light wind had risen, and clouds scudded, but there was still moonlight.
She slipped off her sandals. Sand scrunched between her toes, hard and gritty. She didn’t mind. Hurt didn’t seem to matter any longer, and she did it quite deliberately so it bit into her skin.
A gust of wind tossed her hair, and long strands curled around her face. She held her arms wide apart for a few minutes, letting wind tug at her, then changed her mind and jogged along the edge of the rough surf. Water ran over her bare feet, stinging where sand had chafed her skin. She didn’t care.
Pain seemed fitting. Pain was reality.
She jumped over a stranded crab but missed her footing, rolled in the sand, and lay with her arms akimbo for a few moments. She’d lain like this with Rafael on Xabiá beach. The sun had been hospitable, their lives full, and there’d been no hint of treachery.
She was submerged in recollections, when surf swirled over her. Kat gasped, sat up, scraped wet hair and seawater from her eyes. For whatever silly reason, this Rafael-thing made her feel she was in mourning. She was fed up of it and resolved that from tomorrow, he would be wiped from her mind.
Tomorrow would be the first day of the rest of her life.
On her way back to the hotel Billy Mellor caught her and her heart sank. He eyed her dripping clothes with a smirk. “I’ve been trying to track you down. Quite the little hermit, aren’t you, and a wet little hermit at that.”
“Mister Mellor,” she said frostily. “What an unpleasant surprise. And how have you traced me here?”
“Didn’t you realise. We journalists work from secret covens. Our labyrinth spreads everywhere. We know all, see all, and tell all. Nothing is safe from our investigations.”
She swept straggles of hair from her face. “And what you don’t know you make up.”
He shrugged. “And I’ve been pondering some of life’s little mysteries.”
“How nice for you. Do we call you Einstein from now on?”
“I got to wondering why a rising celebrity would suddenly uproot and bury herself in a quiet, English, backwater… quaint as it may be.”
“Simply because it is quaint.”
“Fashion houses are generally in panic when preparing a collection, so why aren’t you panicking?”
“Perhaps I feel someone else should take the strain?”
“Every show I’ve ever covered has been hectic, like the designer has gone berserk, and you’re the designer.”
Kat cleared her throat. “Let’s just say I feel like a change.”
He took a notepad from his pocket. “Let’s just say bullshit.”
Kat sighed. “You’re entitled to your opinion.”
“And shall we say that my considered opinion is that our friend Saval has been up to something.”
“Do you ever consider an opinion?”
“What has he been up to?”
”And why do you always assume the worst?” Kat strode off.
Billy followed closely behind. He said, “What has he done to drive you away from such glitter.”
“Not a thing, it was my decision to quit and mine alone.”
“Quit?” He looked at her sharply. “Now I wonder why no one else mentioned that. Have you told them, because the Saval Empire continues to sing your praises?”
Her voice became taut. “What are you on about?”
“There’s no mention of you leaving Las Modas Ibéricas. I have an invite to the previews and your name is splashed all over it.”
Kat blinked rapidly; what was going on? How would they explain her absence?
“And for the actual posturing when the show hits the road? You’ll return for that, of course? No designer would miss their collection. You’ll have arranged to see it through?”
She shook her head. “I shan’t be there.”
“That’s a big decision to take, my dear.”
“Not to me.”
“Yet there’s not a word about it, from Las Modas Ibéricas. I wonder why?” He scratched his head. “What are they planning? They must have put a hell of a plug on this little item.”
They wouldn’t show the collection without her, surely? She said slowly, “So why are you talking to me?”
“I like to keep tabs on newsworthy clients, but I could find neither you nor Rafael, which seemed strange.” He studied her curiously.
“You think me newsworthy? I hardly think so.”
“Then I got to thinking, why would a lady like Katrina Bligh disappear and to where? With an important debut about to take place, the designer is nowhere to be found? Intriguing!”
“So you’ve got yourself the story you were after.”
“And perhaps,” he said. “There’s an even bigger story waiting. After all, dear lady, you did once say that your ambition was to be successful. Why the hell are you quitting just when your career is about to bounce? I wonder what you’re scheming? What is this all about, who is covering for what?”
Kat stopped walking. Why had nothing been said about her disappearance? What were they up to? “I had a rethink.”
“I wonder why they haven’t mentioned the fact, and I wonder why I can’t get hold of Señor Rafael? I think I’ll wait before I go to print. I smell a scoop.”
“Go to hell.”
“I wonder,” he paused. “Our infamous Señor, has he been up to his tricks again? Let me guess. Girls? Drink? Did a party become too wild for your tender sensibilities? Have you had your pretty eyes opened at last? I did warn you.”
“Do you really expect me to answer that?”
He grinned. “You already have.”
Kat filled her lungs with air and spun away. She half expected him to follow again, but mercifully he didn’t. The encounter shook her to the core. What was going on?
***
Two days later, to her horror, headlines in her newspaper said: ‘Leading fashion designer quits over sex scandal. Saval empire in uproar over outrageous conduct.’
Billy Mellor must have put two and two together to make five, and published it. Rafael would be mad as hell now. They would all blame her for the article.
She had just finished taking the evening meal in the hotel, when the desk paged her. She took a cool lager with her and made her way to the reception, where there was an urgent message for her to ring her father.
Kat, puzzled, took out her cell phone, but saw the battery was dead. Damn! She hadn’t thought to check it. She went to a booth and rang the number. Her dad answered after the second ring.
“Hi Kat. Glad I got hold of you.” His voice was strained. “I’ve been trying all day. Where the hell have you been?”
“I’ve been out… What’s so urgent, Dad?”
“I hardly know how to put it.”
“For heaven’s sake you’re making me nervous.”
“It’s Rafael. He came to see me.”
Rafael again? It made her angry that she couldn’t get him out of her life. At times she felt an intense hatred toward him, and there were moments when she felt an intense longing. When the longing happened, her anger against her weakness was extreme.
She said, “Did he? And what did he say?”
“We talked, or rather he did. That young man has a predisposition for prose.”
“And?”
“I didn’t even know you’d left them. You never told me. What’s going on? There’s bound to be repercussions you know.”
“We had a problem… personal.”
“They’ll want their money back. What about the contract? They’ll probably sue, as well. I told him you should be right back with them, I don’t understand how you could leave them at a time like this.”
“Dad! How can you say such a thing?”
“Well it’s true,” he blurted. “You know it is.”
“And you’ve no idea what’s gone on. How can you judge me, you don’t know what’s happened?”
He became silent.
“Dad?” she said. “Dad, are you still there?”
“Yes.”
Kat felt suddenly wary. She said, “There’s something else isn’t there? Something you haven’t told me.”
“I told him where you’d probably be.”
She stiffened. “How could you? You shouldn’t have told him anything.”
“You don’t know what he’s like when he’s angry.”
“I’m going to discover, aren’t I? God! How could you Dad?” She slammed the phone down.
What the hell had Rafael got planned, revenge? She couldn’t blame him; it was a dreadful newspaper article.
She went back to her room in panic. She had to leave. She had no idea what Rafael was capable of. She started throwing clothes into her case. Maybe she could go back home. At least there she would be on her ground. Here she was too exposed.
Kat glanced through the window then freaked out as she spotted Rafael thrusting through a bunch of people.
She frantically crammed the last of her things into the case. The door. She hadn’t locked it. She dived to it, but too late. Rafael caught her arm before she could move. “Hello Kat!” he said tightly. “Somebody has been foolish haven’t they?”
Kat felt blood drain from her face. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“You can’t guess?”
“The newspaper?”
“Very damaging.”
“I didn’t say anything. He took scraps of information and padded it out.”
“This sounds dangerously like grovelling. You once said you never grovelled.”
“You’ve a right to be angry. I know you’ve every right, and I don’t blame you. I’d be angry too…but I didn’t tell him.” Kat gulped. “Valencia,” she said shakily. “I’ve ruined everything. Billy Mellor says you are going ahead.”
“We don’t like the idea of cancelling.” He smiled faintly. “Las Modas Ibéricas is a proud company. We’ve had knocks before but we’ve always come through and screwed the competition. We don’t like to be beaten.” His eyes narrowed. “We’re not cancelling. We’re going ahead.”
Kat stared blindly at the wall. Suddenly, she felt very tired. “So what’s this about Rafael?”
“You’re coming back. You’re facing everyone. You’re going to front the Valencia collection.”
She shook her head. “I won’t do it Rafael.”
“Oh yes, you will, you’re going to show the world the newspaper printed a pack of lies.
“Did they? Is that what you’re claiming?”
His eyes were slits. “You just told me you didn’t say anything to them.”
“I said I didn’t tell them, I didn’t say I didn’t believe it.” She twisted her fingers. “I won’t do it.”
“You’ve wrecked my life. You’re not going to ruin everyone else’s. You’re coming back.”
“I don’t think so.”
“You’ll come back and everything will be the same as before.”
Kat went rigid. “We can never be the same as before.” She’d been blinded for a while, but now things were clear. Nothing could ever change what she felt, or what she was. Genetics couldn’t be altered. “Look,” she said shakily. “I suppose I’m sorry for the way things turned out, but I’m staying put.”
“And if I don’t agree, Kat? What then?”
“You’ve always known the score.”
He scrutinized her. “I’ve travelled a long way. Is that all you can say?”
She was appalled to find her hands trembling. She said, “And what about Fran? Do you still want things to be the same with her too? Is that what you told her? Parties, girls, dancing; God, you’re insufferable. Don’t forget, I know!”
“And what do you know, Katrina?”
She stared him out. “F*ck off!”
His face remained blank. Had she forgotten how to read him, or was he getting better at masking emotions? The only thing she could be certain of was the terrible ache she felt. It made her vulnerable.
He said, “Come on! Tell me everything you know.”
Most people can point to a moment when a wrong word committed them to something irreversible. Kat knew this was that moment. If she said the wrong thing, she would be lost. She couldn’t waver. “You bedded me then you partied with Fran and her naked bitches. You have no conscience; that’s what I know.”
“I don’t remember forcing you to sleep with me,” he said quietly. “But that was only part of our relationship.”
“I had the impression it meant much more.”
“I thought not. Maybe I didn’t place enough emphasis on it for your liking. Is that where I went wrong? Did you want more sex from me?”
“You bastard, you don’t care what you say. You just do what you want, and say what you want, despite consequences.”
“Do I?”
“You’re not bothered whether you’re right or wrong. What do you care about other people’s needs?”
He regarded her curiously and Kat gulped. Too much had been said.
“You told me none of this,” he said gruffly. “Am I supposed to apologise for disappointing you? Didn’t I match your expectations? Am I not the sex machine you wanted?”
She stared with dismay. What had she done? Her voice became broken. “Perhaps we should concede we disappointed each other.”
He stood abruptly, his face shrivelling into something hard, fury in his eyes. To her disgust she felt tears beginning to sting… she mustn’t cry; she mustn’t.
For a moment, there had been a crude need in her to hurt, but how she wished she’d kept quiet. Ten minutes ago she could have taken another route and the situation would have been totally different.
He gave a coarse laugh. “Of course, how stupid of me. I should’ve realised the great Katrina Bligh would have sex-gods queuing up to give attention. I suppose they’re waiting even now.”
“You flatter me.”
“I don’t intend to.”
Her insides twisted. Her instinct was to reach out, to reassure him that any others meant less than nothing.
“I’m sorry to have intruded,” he said. “I’ve wasted my time.” Rafael spun away.
Cold gripped her. No matter what she said, it was too late. She said, “Yes I believe you have.”
Rafael looked devoid of emotion. “You won’t see me again. I’m sorry to have intruded.”
“I think it best,” Kat couldn’t believe she had said those dreadful things to him. Where had the words come from? Whatever, it was too late to do anything about it.
“Yes, I know what you think.” He turned and began to walk off. “I made a mistake… By the way,” he said, in afterthought. “I’ve seen your mother.”
Without warning, an emptiness enveloped Kat. “What the hell do you mean, you’ve seen my mother? You’ve spoken to her?”
She had to pull herself together. She was faint, keeling over, filled with dread. Couldn’t let it happen.
Rafael stopped by the door. “I traced her. I told you I intended to. She wants to contact you. She has something to say. You should listen.”
“I told you to leave it alone. Why have you meddled? You have no right to interfere.”
“I wanted to help.”
“No you didn’t,” she shouted angrily. “You want to take control as you always do. Well it won’t happen. I won’t let you. I won’t listen to you. I don’t want you here. Get out. I never want to see you again.”
“See her, Kat. It might open your eyes. You’ve been so wrong, about so many things.”
“Get out,” she yelled.
He shot her one last look, started to say something again, thought better of it, closed the door and left.
What the hell had he done? She’d come to this place to separate herself from him; to be as far from him as possible, but he’d found Pandora’s Box and peeked in. Kat overflowed with complex feelings. He didn’t understand the enormity of what he’d done.
Her eyes were blurred with tears. Every corner, every cranny would hold Mum’s shadow from now on. Damn him, he’d spoiled everything.
The evening dragged out interminably and when she went to bed, sleep came fitfully. The night was more than dark; it became black, where memories turned more alive than the present. She dreamed of her mother and had nightmares of her leaving all over.