Fry (3 page)

The sky is black with smoke. Bits of obliterated caravan float gracefully in the wind, spreading the fire to neighbouring trees and bushes.

“Keep back,” Deacon warns, moving nonetheless closer to the blaze.

“Deacon!” I call after him, my eyes stinging from the fumes.

Two men stand on the sidelines, showering the flames with what looks like a garden hose. They might as well be sprinkling confetti for all the good it’s doing.

“Is anybody hurt?” Deacon calls out to them. 

“We don’t know!” the older man yells back.

“There’s a young woman staying here and nobody’s seen her since the fire started.” He looks back towards the coast road. “Where’s the bloody fire brigade?”

Then his eyes fall on Alicia and he heaves a huge sigh of relief.

“Thank god! She’s here, Dan! She’s safe!”

Deacon looks uncertainly at Alicia.

“That’s what I was trying to tell you,” I hiss. “She lives here.”

“
Lived
here,” he corrects me, quick to recover his composure. “Look at that inferno! This place has had it.”

Kate slips her arm around Alicia, who is staring, mesmerised by the flames.

“You OK?”

Alicia doesn’t reply.

“She’s probably in shock,” Deacon whispers. “Take her back to the house – get her a cup of tea or something.”

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. Aren’t you coming?”

“No, I think I’ll stay until the fire brigade gets here.”

“OK. Don’t be a hero.” I give him a wink, but deep down, I wish he would just come back to the house.

Back at the Beach House, I watch as Rhett and Kate fuss over Alicia, but I can’t participate. Something is bothering me. I just can’t put my finger on it.

We are all still up when Deacon returns a little later.

“Is it as bad as we thought?”

He nods. “There’s not much left of the caravans, but they’ve managed to prevent it from spreading any further.”

He looks across the table at Alicia. “You’ll have to stay here tonight.”

Alicia has gone all shy again. She looks down at her hands. “I don’t want to impose.”

“Nonsense, you’ve seen the place - we’ve got plenty of room. Now, do you need to call anyone?”

She shakes her head.

“Are you sure?”

“Quite.”

She lets out a big yawn and covers her mouth and I’m not sure, but I think I see her smile through her hand.

I am awoken by someone stomping about on my stomach. I push Fluffy off and sit up. In the cold light of day, my concerns about Alicia seem silly, laughable even. Obviously, what she did at the barbecue was some kind of stunt, a party trick. She’s just an ordinary girl. She can’t create fire out of nothing, no one can. The nearly getting run over, the fire at the caravan park – it must all just be some strange coincidence. After all, what reason would Alicia have for setting fire to the place where she’s staying? And how could she, when she was at the party all evening?

Downstairs, I find the answer phone blinking. I press play and smile to myself as Mum’s chirpy voice fills the room.

“Hello Izzy, are you there dear? Auntie Jean and I have booked ourselves on a fabulous Over 60’s break to Morocco! Isn’t that fun? It’s over the Christmas holidays. I do hope you don’t mind? Give me a ring, dear, and I’ll tell you all about it… “

Once I’m showered and dressed, I drive over to Rhett and Deacon’s to help with the post party clean-up, but to my delight, Rhett is putting the last of the dirty glasses into the dishwasher as I arrive. Deacon is still sweeping up in the garden, but I decide to leave him to it.

“Is Alicia up yet?” I ask Rhett. “I was hoping to have a word with her.”

“Why don’t you go and see?” he says, pouring some powder into the dishwasher. “She’s upstairs in the White Room.”

I head up the stairs to the first floor. The White Room is next to Rhett’s. The door swings open before I even knock. Alicia greets me as if she’s been expecting me. She is wearing the same gypsy skirt she had on yesterday plus a designer jumper of Rhett’s which shrank in the wash.

“Hi. Mind if I come in?”

“Course not.”

I plump myself down on the bed.

“This is a lovely room.”

“Yes, Deacon let me choose whichever one I wanted.” 

She stands in front of the mirror, brushing her hair with a boar-bristle hairbrush. She doesn’t realise it, but the brush belongs to Rhett and Deacon’s mother, and this is the room she stays in when she comes to visit. The décor is floral and feminine, the walls papered in a delicate print that matches the thick quilted bedspread and pillows. There’s even a matching en suite.

“It sucks about the caravan park,” I say. “It was really lucky no one was hurt.”

“I know,” she agrees. “Really lucky. Now, do you think I should wear my hair up or down?”

“Down.”

“It’s just that it gets so big and frizzy if I leave it down.”

“Look, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you,” I say, coming to stand next to her in front of the mirror.

“Yeah?”

“How
did
you get Deacon’s barbecue to light?”

She stops mid brush stroke. 

“What do you mean? I lit it with a match. You were there. You saw me.”

“Yes, I was there,” I say hesitantly. “But I saw you digging up flints.”

She laughs. “I found a box of matches down there. How do you think I did it, silly?”

I look at her uncertainly, but she looks me right in the eye and her face shows no signs of insincerity. Could it be that I was mistaken?

Alicia sets the brush down on the table.

“That’s better,” she says, with a satisfied smile.

I follow her back down to the kitchen, where Kate is setting the table.

“Do you like pancakes?” Rhett asks Alicia

“Who doesn’t?” Alicia smiles broadly.

What happened to all her shyness? It seems to have vanished again. As has her wildness. Her hair looks smooth and styled today, not like a bedraggled orphan at all.

“I’ll have some too, if you’re making them,” I invite myself. Rhett makes the best pancakes of anyone I know.

“Here, see if you can open this,” Kate says, handing me a bottle of syrup. “It feels like the lid’s been welded on.”

There is a definite colour in her cheeks this morning, I notice and a certain bounce in her step that I haven’t seen in ages. She has even ironed her shirt and put on some perfume, which is all very good, but at the same time a bit odd. I could have put last night’s miraculous recovery down to alcohol, but she certainly isn’t drunk now. It’s almost as if Alicia has wiped all memory of Julio from her mind. I wonder what on earth she said to her?

I turn my attention to the bottle of syrup I’m supposed to be opening, clench it tight and yank as hard as I can, my face screwed up in concentration. Deacon strides in from the garden, and leans against the counter, watching my attempts with an amused look on his face.

“Here, give me that!”

He wrenches it from my grasp and twists off the lid as if it were no harder than opening a bottle of ketchup.

“I loosened it for you!” I say in my defence.

Deacon just laughs.

Rhett serves the pancakes and we all sit around the table, talking about the fire. It appears to have been a fierce one. Left a big, depressing cloud over the whole of Queensbeach. I doubt much of the caravan park survived.

Nonetheless, Alicia wants to know if any of her stuff survived, so we walk down there after breakfast to have a look. It’s not good news. Not even the outer fence has been left intact. The place looks like a meteorite has hit it. It has literally been flattened – and blackened. Not a single, frazzled piece of grass remains, just the burned-out shells of the caravans and a whole lot of mess and mud. 

“Hey, that’s the owner,” Deacon whispers to me, as a plump, balding man approaches. I recognise him as one of the men who were trying to put the fire out the night before. 

“Looks bad, doesn’t it?” he says, looking around at the charred remains.

“It happened so quickly,” Deacon says. “There was really nothing you could do.”

“No, I suppose not. Shame the fire brigade didn’t get here quicker, but not their fault. Apparently, there was a bloody great van blocking the road.”

“Do you know what caused the fire?” I chip in.

He shakes his head. “No, the police are investigating.”

“They’re not ruling out arson then?” I ask, with one eye on Alicia, who has gone to examine the place where her caravan used to be. I can’t help it; I have to know.

“It seems unlikely. We’ve never had any of that kind of trouble round here before.”

“It is a pretty quiet neighbourhood,” Deacon agrees. “I hope you’ll be covered by the insurance?”

“Should be, although you know what insurance companies are like. It’ll be like pulling teeth.” He looks guiltily in Alicia’s direction. “We won’t be covered for anything that was in the vans, I’m afraid. There wasn’t supposed to be anyone living in them. We’d been renovating.”

“So how come Alicia was staying here?” I ask curiously,

“I felt sorry for her,” he says. “I found her sleeping rough on the beach, poor lass. I told her she could stay in one of my vans if she didn’t mind the mess. I even gave her some of my daughter’s old clothes. Of course they’ll all have gone up in smoke now.”

“Well, that settles it then,” Deacon says, as we walk back over to the others. “Alicia will have to stay with us for the meanwhile. She clearly has nowhere else to go,”

“Are you sure?” I ask. “I mean, you barely know the girl.”

He pats me on the shoulder.  “She’s your friend, isn’t she? That’s all I need to know.”

“Well,” I say faintly, “that’s very…kind of you.”

I bite my lip, wondering if I should tell him about my misgivings about Alicia. But what if I’m wrong? I wouldn’t want her to end up homeless because of me, nor do I want to invite her to live with me. In fact, I’m more reluctant now than ever.

I owe her,
I remind myself.

She still hasn’t said a word to anyone about me nearly running her over. I don’t think I’d ever hear the end of it if Deacon got wind.

“Hey, Isabel - what are you doing this afternoon?” Kate calls out.

“I don’t know. I was thinking of going to the gym.”

“I ought to go too – get my money’s worth,” she pulls a face, “but I really can’t be arsed.”

“It
is
rather pricey,” I agree, “but luckily for me my free trial has been extended for another six months. Can you believe it? The manager called to tell me last week.”

Kate’s eyes bulge. “You’re kidding! The first chunk came out of my bank account last month. No one offered me an extension. How did you get so lucky?”

“I’ve no idea!”

It’s
kind of strange, now that I think about it. Why am I getting a special deal, while Kate has to pay? After all, we joined at the same time.

“Anyway, I was going to suggest we take Alicia shopping this afternoon,” she continues. “She’s going to need some new clothes. I’m sure we can have a whip round to pay for it.”

“Sounds good,” I smile. After all, it can’t hurt to get to know her a little better. Perhaps a shopping trip is just what we need to defuse some of the mystery.

Kate is right. Our friends and neighbours are very generous. Everyone wants to help out when they hear about the fire.

“I’d come with you,” says Rhett, handing me a tenner for Alicia’s clothing fund. “But I’m working this afternoon and it’s double bubble. Let me know if you see any nice winter coats though.”

“Like you need another coat!” I laugh. Rhett has the best wardrobe of anyone I know.

So it’s just the three of us who hit the shops that afternoon. It feels a little weird bringing a stranger along on a shopping trip, but Alicia fits in well – singing along to all the cheesy songs we listen to on the way and laughing in all the right places when Kate and I joke around. And although this shopping trip was supposed to be for Alicia, Kate and I stack up at least as many bags as she does. I even manage to persuade Kate to try on a couple of dresses. She doesn’t buy any of them, but even trying them on is progress for someone who lives in jeans and combats.

We are on our way out of H&M when something catches her eye.

“How on earth did I miss those amazing jeans?” she exclaims, pointing to a pair of Levi’s covered in rips and holes. I groan at her lack of taste, but she is totally oblivious as she pulls them off the rack and rushes towards the changing room. By this point even I’ve had enough shopping for one day. So, spotting some soft, comfy chairs, I sink down and ease the shoes off my aching feet. Alicia doesn’t join me. Instead, she gazes in fascination at a pair of mannequins that have been stripped of their clothes and are looking rather sheepish in the corner. She reaches out and strokes their silky blonde hair, and as she does, a certain gleam comes into her eye
. I recognise that look
, I realise with a jolt. 
It’s the same one she had last night, when the caravan park was on fire.

I look at the mannequins again, and the strangest thought wafts through my mind. I picture their hard, plastic bodies melting into the fire. The mannequins look back at me with passive, unblinking eyes, but they no longer look embarrassed. Now they are afraid.

“I need something to drink,” I announce abruptly, and whisk Alicia out of the shop. I take out my mobile and call Kate, telling her to meet us at the juice bar across the street. The heat of the mall is obviously getting to me.

We all sing along with the radio again on the way back to Queensbeach. The music is soothing, and helps me forget all about my stupid mannequin madness.

After I drop Kate and Alicia off, I curl up with Fluffy in front of the TV and order a takeaway from the pizza place in town. I’ve heard they have a hot new delivery man, so I go into the bathroom and touch up my make-up - you know, just in case. There is a knock at the door just as I come out.

“Wow, that was quick!”

I pull back the latch, but it isn’t the delivery man who stands impatiently on the doorstep, a roguish grin on his face.

“Julio!”

“Well, aren’t you going to invite me in?”

He taps his foot with mock impatience.

“What are you doing here?” I demand. “How come you didn’t tell me you were coming?”

“I don’t know. I just thought it would be better this way.”

I usher him into the house and thrust a warm cup of tea into his hands. We’ve barely spoken since he walked out on Kate, but I can’t deny I’ve missed him.

He is my brother, after all.

“So what have you been up to?” I ask. “Tell me all your news.”

“Well, did you get your ‘save the date’ card?” he asks, his face taking on the puppy dog expression that drives the women crazy.

“Yes.”

The card came this morning. I can’t believe they’ve already sent them out.

“You seem to be in a bit of a hurry to get married. Is there anything I should know?”

“If you’re asking if Holly is pregnant, then no. We just can’t wait to get married. I just hope we get all the paperwork through in time – you know, for the divorce.”

“Yeah, Kate told me.”

“Is she OK?”

“Better than I would have expected.”

“That’s good.”

“So what’s she like, this Holly? Are you really sure you want to get married again so soon?”

“Absolutely, totally one hundred percent.”

“Wow, you’re really hooked, aren’t you?”

“It’s different with Holly,” he says, setting his cup down on the table. “It just feels so right.” A stupid smile flits across his face and I can see that he’s smitten.

“Well, then I look forward to meeting her.”

Julio beams. “Why don’t you come for Christmas?”

“Christmas?”

“It was Holly’s idea, actually. She really wants to meet you.”

“That’s really sweet of her,” I say, stalling. It’s not like I have any other plans for Christmas. Mum’s going to be in Morocco, after all, but I’m not quite sure if I’d feel comfortable spending it with Julio and his new fiancée.

There’s a reason why I’m a bit reluctant to meet Holly, and it’s not purely out of loyalty to Kate, although that is a factor. The reason is this: I’m afraid that I’ll like her. I know that sounds strange, but I can’t help it. I find myself wondering if this love can really last, or if Holly will become another one of Julio’s statistics. Because no matter how much in love with her he says he is now, there is no knowing how he will feel in six month’s time. That’s just the way he is.

Growing up, my brother always had a reputation as a heartbreaker. He’s been like that since the age of twelve. Even then, he seemed to have a different girlfriend every week, and it was always me who ended up dealing with the hysterical women he left in his wake. But I never thought my best friend would be one of them. I don’t know why I was so naive, but I just thought she was different to all his other women - stronger, more independent. I thought Julio had met his match with Kate. Turns out, I was wrong.

Ding-Dong!

“You expecting someone?”

“Yeah, that’ll be my pizza.”

“You ordered pizza?” he says, rubbing his hands with glee. “Fantastic! I could eat a horse!”

I pay for the pizza, and just for the record, the delivery man is definitely good-looking, though the goatee is a deal breaker.

I open the box of pizza and we dig in. With other men, I pretend to eat more daintily, but with Julio, I pig out. It’s amazing how we can pick up just where we left off, even though we haven’t spoken in months. It’s always been like that between the two of us. He’s so much a part of me that I can’t just shut him out, no matter how hard I try.

“I’m really glad you came,” I tell him, once all the pizza’s been eaten and neither of us can manage another cup of tea.

He smiles his devilish grin. “Me too.”

We both rise to our feet. I tower over him, even without shoes. He may have inherited his mother’s Mediterranean good looks, but I got every inch of Dad’s height.

My teeth chatter as I walk him out to his car. The warm weather has completely evaporated. We’ve gone from autumn to summer to winter in the space of a few days. The leaves are now crisp with frost and many of the birds have retreated back to their hideouts.

“So you’ll let me know about Christmas?”

“OK.”

“Oh, and one more thing, Izzy.” He produces a brown cardboard box from the boot. “Can you give this to Kate? It’s just some of her old stuff from the attic. I picked it up by mistake when I moved out. She’ll probably want it back.”

I nod, despite the knowledge that in order to give the box to Kate, I’ll have to admit to her that I’ve seen him.

Well, there’s no rush.

I’ll wait till she’s got over the shock of Julio asking for a divorce.