‘Lovely here, isn’t it?’ she said, standing in front of me, taut tummy, hands on small hips.
‘Yes, we’re so lucky. Joy and Bob book a holiday every year and always invite us along.’ I smiled.
‘That’s nice,’ she said. Then she bent her head down and said in a low voice, ‘Are they okay, Joy and Bob? They seem nice but…’
‘Yes, they’re lovely, really kind.’
‘Joy can be a bit overwhelming, can’t she?’
‘Yes, but once you get to know her—’
‘Is she a bit bossy?’ She smiled.
I had to laugh; Ella had spotted that straight away. ‘Yes, I suppose she is just a bit bossy, and she can take over if you let her – but she’s kind, and really supportive. She’s fun too and there are a lot worse mothers-in-law than Joy. My friend’s mother-in-law, she—’ But before I could finish, Ella had walked away, to the other side of the patio and, when she got there, closed her eyes and stood with her arms out. It seemed a bit rude, but clearly she didn’t want a gossipy chat about my friend’s mother-in-law. Oh well, I thought, at least I could get on with reading.
‘You doing yoga?’ I asked, as I turned a page in my book.
‘No, I’m baking a bloody cake.’
I looked up, surprised.
She opened her eyes. ‘Yeah, I’m doing yoga, Clare.’ She smiled, rolling her eyes. I nodded and smiled back – it was just her sense of humour, again. ‘What’s that you’re reading?’ she asked, now reaching forward, stretching her whole body.
‘Oh, it’s actually a book I found in the villa, about the history of the place.’
‘It looks good. I wonder if I could nick it for my bookshelf at home? Joy wouldn’t mind, would she?’ She was standing now, arms behind her head, tight little bronze tummy pushed out.
‘You don’t need to take it with you,’ I said. ‘You can read it while you’re here, I’ve nearly finished.’
‘Oh, I don’t want to read it,’ she laughed. ‘No, I love the cover. It’s a gorgeous colour, be great on my rainbow bookshelves – they look incredible on social media.’
‘Oh, I see,’ I said, watching her start to manoeuvre her amazing limbs into all kinds of contortions. I thought of Jamie and her making love on that single bed. So much for Dan’s campaign to give them our king size (which I hoped he’d forgotten about). It was clear with her flexible joints Ella could probably be creative even in a tiny bed. ‘I guess the owners do an inventory,’ I said, a warning shot in case she was thinking of taking the book. I thought again about the earrings, but pushed it away. The more I thought about it the more uncertain I was that she’d stolen them – I may have been mistaken.
‘The owners do an inventory? Isn’t that Joy and Bob?’ She stopped stretching for a moment to look at me.
I laughed. ‘No, they don’t own it, they’re just renting it.’
At this she turned her back to me to perform some kind of thigh stretch, so I couldn’t gauge her reaction.
‘Where are your rainbow bookshelves at the moment?’ I asked, changing the subject.
‘What?’
‘Your bookshelves. Are they at home… in storage, where do you live?’
She stopped for a moment then began to lift her leg around her head in a way I didn’t think possible, and eventually she said, ‘Storage.’
‘Oh, so you’re not living anywhere then?’
She didn’t respond.
‘Where do you come from?’ I tried the more direct approach.
‘I used to live in Manchester, I have a place in London… A small apartment in New York…’
‘Wow, really? I didn’t know.’
‘Why should you?’
Her sharpness caught me slightly; she was probably trying to concentrate. I wasn’t going to say anything else, but I was so intrigued.
‘I’m just surprised, two properties? Seems like a lot for someone your age.’
‘Does it? I’m a different generation than you – we’re go-getters Clare. I’d made my money before I was twenty-five. I wanted an apartment in New York because my dad’s a lawyer there.’
‘Oh, he’s a New Yorker?’
‘Born and bred.’
‘So you and Jamie don’t have any plans to move to London then… to your flat?’
‘So many questions, Clare…’
‘Sorry, I’m not prying. It’s just that if you have two properties, why aren’t you living in either of them?’ She made me feel like I was asking too much, but I was only trying to get to know her better. I wondered why a woman like Ella, with a jet-setting lifestyle, would want to settle into a suburban corner of Manchester and a small family business, when she could be living in two of the most exciting cities on the planet.
She didn’t answer me, just kept winding her legs around herself. I can come over as a bit nosey, and it was up to her if she didn’t want to tell me everything about herself straight away. I decided to just keep the conversation light for now, and who knew, in time I might be able to gain her trust, even perhaps her friendship? It would make life a lot easier if the two of us could get along.
‘I suppose it’s the yoga that keeps you trim?’
‘Yeah, that and the amazing sex,’ she said, staring at me, while slowly opening her legs wide.
‘I wonder if I should do yoga,’ I said, trying hard to ignore her rather defiant crotch. ‘It… it might be good for me?’
‘Possibly?’ She finally pulled her knees together. ‘Older people do have to be careful though, Clare. I’d suggest you do lots of warm-ups to start those muscles, especially as you’re menopausal.’
‘I’m not,’ I snapped.
‘Oh, sorry, I just thought you must be.’
Was she being bitchy or just tactless?
‘I’m only forty-one, Ella,’ I said, discreetly wiping the sweat off the back of my neck, lest she thought I was having a hot flush.
‘Sorry, Clare, would you mind not talking?’
‘I understand,’ I said, still giving her the benefit of the doubt. ‘That’s why I sit here on my own each morning, so I can concentrate. No kids, and no patients.’ I smiled.
‘Exactly. I feel you,’ she said, still twisting her limbs. ‘I need to concentrate – and talking about how well your kids are doing at school, or how many beds you made in hospital last week, is distracting. Thanks for understanding.’
I couldn’t quite believe what she’d just said. Was she joking?
I looked back at her, and for a few moments there was no expression on her face. She meant it, and I wasn’t going to sit and take it.
‘Wow,’ I exclaimed.
‘What?’
‘That was a bit rude.’
She looked at me for a moment, like she was going to say something but then seemed to think better of it and instead her face went all wide-eyed. ‘OMG, Clare, I was just having a laugh with you. I didn’t offend you, did I?’ she said, putting her hand to her mouth in horror.
Was she really horrified at the thought of offending me or was she making fun of me? I would give her the benefit of the doubt and assume she didn’t mean to be nasty. ‘I just think sometimes perhaps you say things, and people don’t always get your meaning,’ I said gently. ‘What might seem funny to you doesn’t sound funny to everyone else – it just sounds rude.’