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‘I got a very junior, very badly paid job on the local paper; the editor had been a regular at the pub and I think he took pity on me. That’s the path that led me here,’ she said, gesturing towards the sea. She brushed a hand against her cheek and it came away wet – she hadn’t even noticed the tears falling. At the funeral, her mother wept openly in the front pew of the church while Tess sat as far away from her as possible. She had not cried once that day, her grief crushed by a tight ball of anger deep inside of her. When she walked away from the grave, it was the last time she had seen or spoken to her mother.
She wiped her red eyes and inhaled loudly to catch her breath. How ridiculous to be crying after so long, she thought angrily, hoping Sean wouldn’t tell his mother; her career had meant everything to her. For twelve years she had worked so hard she would never feel lonely or insecure again. Money couldn’t bring her father back but it could give her a safety net from the world. She couldn’t allow herself to lose that; she had seen what it had done to her father.
She blew her nose and looked at her watch. It was now almost midnight.
‘Thanks for the beer. I should get back,’ she said, standing up, feeling suddenly embarrassed at her outpouring to someone she barely knew.
‘Are you sure you don’t want to talk about this some more?’
‘I’m sure. I just want to go to my room and pack.’
‘You’re leaving? I thought this was your holiday. What about the volcanoes and the dolphins?’
She shook her head vigorously. ‘And bump into Mother and Anthony on their romantic holiday? No way.’
‘But if you haven’t spoken to her for twelve years, maybe your mother isn’t even with Anthony any more?’ said Sean. ‘Maybe she’s not in Hawaii.’
She could be dead for all I care, thought Tess, instantly feeling bad for having had the notion. She shook her head; surely she would have heard. And she would definitely have heard if her mother had left Anthony. Every now and then she heard snippets about their life through friends such as Jemma’s sister Cat, so she knew about their big house in Edgware, their life of happy retirement enjoying cruises and holidays, just like the one they were on now.
‘I have another idea,’ said Sean, looking thoughtful. ‘I was going to head to Maui tomorrow, it’s the next island over. My friend has a great house in Hana, a really quiet, fantastic spot. Why don’t you come?’
He looked completely serious.
‘No, they’re your friends … ’ she said, jangling the silver bracelets around her wrist. ‘I don’t want to intrude.’
Sean shook his head. ‘No, it’s just going to be me, if you can stomach that,’ he smiled. ‘Chris is away in Europe. I’m just staying there for a couple of nights before I head back to London.’
‘Sean, I can’t.’
‘Yes you can. You told me you’ve got a couple of days off yourself, and my mom is in Paris with Brooke doing wedding dress stuff, so she won’t be needing you. And really, I don’t bite.’
He smiled, his eyes crinkling up. Tess couldn’t believe she was actually tempted by his suggestion. But then she badly needed a break from New York. And she couldn’t stay here.
‘When are you leaving?’
‘Seven tomorrow morning, before anybody else is up and around, even for breakfast.’
‘I must be crazy.’
Sean laughed. ‘Hey, I could have told you that the day I met you.’
*
It was only a short hop over to Maui on a twelve–seater plane that Sean had chartered for the day. Maui looked more green than the Big Island, but its volcanic past was still evident from the huge, lunar–like crater she could see in the middle of the island. From the air, they could also see the perfect, crescent–shaped beaches all along the coast, some black, some white, some even a dark red. She loved it already. They landed at Hana airport, little more than an airstrip on the lush eastern side of the island, and climbed into an open–topped Jeep waiting for them by the tiny office building.
This was a different Hawaii to the one she had experienced on the Big Island, which was built up and touristy with skyscrapers in the business districts and cruise ships on the horizon, every shop seemingly packed with plastic surfboards and crazily patterned shirts. Hana, by contrast, had a unique calm that was almost spiritual. Tess loved the smell of the frangipani and rain–scented breeze as they took a ten–minute trip around narrow, mango–strewn lanes into the small town.
They pulled up in front of a one–storey oriental–styled house with emerald green lawns that sloped down to the ocean. Inside it was like a Thai boutique hotel, with maple floors, ceiling fans, and grey, cream, and charcoal minimalist furnishings. She walked out onto the lanai – the terrace at the back – and saw a black marble infinity pool stretching out in front of her. In New York she was sometimes intimidated by the luxury: the museum–quality splendour of Belcourt, or Meredith’s chilly Upper East Side WASP palace. But here, she felt as if she could lie down on one of the ivory sofas by the pool, drink in the views, and feel entirely at home.
‘Who owns this place?’ she asked Sean, who had already changed into khaki shorts and a white T–shirt. He grinned.
‘Chris Kennedy.’
‘The rock star?’
Sean nodded. ‘I’ve known Chris for years – well, before the band got really famous. Lots of musicians live around here actually. George Harrison used to have an estate down the road.’
‘Blimey,’ said Tess, looking at the house in a different light now she knew it was owned by a celebrity. Still, there was no harm in enjoying the luxury while she was here, was there?
