‘Izzy and Sienna will want an explanation,’ Sam said tentatively, afraid to make things worse. ‘We’ll need to talk to them.’
‘We can do that. Right after we decide what to do with him.’ She spat the words out – gesturing at her husband, a beached whale on the sandy shingle. ‘I’m half inclined to leave him here. Let him wake up to his hangover in the morning.’
The temptation was almost too delicious. But the wrath of Foster Carlton wasn’t something he wanted his mother to suffer. Or his sisters.
‘Let’s try and wind the party down,’ he suggested. ‘Then Sandro and I can grab a couple of the stronger staff to help bring him back up to the villa.’
She squeezed his hand tighter. ‘You would do this for him, after everything he said?’
‘No, I’d do it for you. For Izzy and Sienna. Not for him.’ Never for him. Not after everything that had happened. ‘Why don’t you stay here with him and I’ll go back to the party? See if I can find Sandro and Gabi. Once everybody’s gone we can sort this out.’
His mother nodded, gesturing for him to leave. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered. ‘You’re a good boy.’
Sam raised an eyebrow. ‘I wouldn’t go that far. The only reason I’m suggesting I go up is if you leave me with him I wouldn’t trust myself.’
‘Fair point. But thank you anyway. For being a good son to me.’
‘Any time,’ Sam whispered. As he left the beach, he could hear his mother whisper-shouting at Foster, berating him for everything he’d done. Sam’s lips twitched as he half listened, remembering how scary Lucia Carlton could be when crossed. It wasn’t karma, nowhere near it, but there was something pleasant about knowing Foster was going to be uncomfortable for quite a while.
It was an hour before the final guest left, and the villa was empty save for the family and the staff. Sam had gone crazy, trying to usher people out, explaining there was an unexpected illness that they had to attend to. And all the time he was looking out for Cesca, but she was nowhere to be seen. He could feel himself becoming agitated, losing control. Everything was so messed up.
After they managed to haul Foster up from the beach and put him in the guest room on the ground floor, he resumed his search, wandering from room to room in agitation. It was only when he wandered outside to the terrace that he saw her, on all fours, scrubbing red wine stains from the pale stone slabs. A flash of anger took hold of him as he saw the state of her knees, the skin red and raw from being scraped against the rough floor.
‘What are you doing?’ He stalked straight over, grabbing at her arm to pull her up. A look of shock came over Cesca’s face as she scrambled to her feet, shrugging his hand away from her bicep.
‘I’m cleaning, what does it look like?’
‘You don’t need to do that, the garden crew can do it tomorrow.’ He scowled at her scraped knees. ‘Do they hurt?’
Cesca brushed the dirt from her skirt. ‘Not really. And I can’t leave it – if I don’t scrub it now the stain will set, and then the whole slab will have to be replaced.’
‘Can’t one of the staff do it?’ Sam looked around at the bustle of activity surrounding them. The team of waiting staff had somehow morphed into the cleaning crew. Not one of them was standing around doing nothing.
‘I am the staff, remember?’ Cesca said pointedly. ‘This is what I’m being paid to do.’ Her voice turned gentle as she looked at him. ‘How’s your family doing?’
Sam swallowed. ‘Not great. It’s a mess, Foster ended up blurting out everything. Now everyone knows he’s not my father. He’s lying in bed comatose, my mother is in pieces, and my sisters can’t understand what the hell’s going on.’
‘I’m so sorry. It’s everything you didn’t want to happen, isn’t it? How are you feeling?’
‘I don’t know. I think I’m in crisis control mode at the moment. I’ve left my sisters on their own for a minute, but I’ll have to get back to them. They deserve some kind of explanation, but they keep crying.’
‘Of course they do. They’re your sisters and they love you. This must have come as such a shock to them, no wonder they’re so ups
et.’
‘I need to see you before you leave.’ He glanced around, looking at all the people surrounding them. The terrace wasn’t exactly the most private of places right then. ‘Can I catch up with you later?’
Her face fell. ‘Oh, yeah, OK.’
‘Are you sure? It’s just that I said I’d go and talk to Izzy again in a minute. And my mom, she’s started on the wine, I want to make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid.’
‘Of course, family comes first, always. You should go to them, they must need you.’
But he needed her, too. Not that it was the time to say it. He was already uncomfortable enough, whispering family secrets among the local staff. ‘I’ll catch you later, OK?’
‘Of course.’
There was an expression on her face he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Her breath was fast, and her fingers were grabbing tightly onto the cloth she’d been cleaning the stone with. But what really got him was the way she wouldn’t quite meet his gaze. Her eyes kept darting to the left, as if she was waiting for something, though what it was he didn’t understand.