The Beekeeper's Daughter (11 page)

Among the miniskirts was Lucy Durlacher. She had pulled her ash-blonde hair into a ponytail and applied blue eyeshadow. Suzie seized the moment and Lucy’s arm. ‘Lucy, come over here. Have you seen these drums? They’re incredible. Go on, touch one.’ Lucy didn’t need further encouragement. She stepped forward and put her hand out. George settled his eyes on her. She wasn’t beautiful, but she had the appeal of forbidden fruit. When she looked at him her cheeks blushed the colour of cranberries. ‘Hi, Lucy,’ he said, and she returned his smile with a shy grin.

Suzie turned to Trixie and whispered, ‘Well, that wasn’t difficult!’

Trixie watched Lucy and George, but only for a moment. She was more concerned about keeping the other girls away from Jasper. He was much too polite to do it for himself.

It wasn’t long before Joe Hornby appeared. He strode through the crowd in a flowery shirt and bright-red shorts, puffing exuberantly on a cigar, and took centre stage on the terrace. ‘Right, boys, are you ready to play?’ he shouted, pleased with the turnout. ‘Let’s see what the good people of Tekanasset make of you!’ He waved his cigar, and somehow the voices hushed around the fire and people turned to listen.

‘Ladies and gentleman, good folk of Tekanasset, may I introduce Big Black Rats. You haven’t heard of them yet, but soon their names will be as celebrated as their famous countrymen, the Rolling Stones and the Beatles. A fine heritage, indeed. But they’re going to go even further. Mark my words, you heard it here first. But enough talk, you can decide for yourselves. Jasper, Ben and George, let’s rock!’

The boys began to play. The amplifiers weren’t sufficient to carry the sound over the beach, and only those standing close got to hear them adequately. Those at the back gave up after a few minutes and resumed their conversations, while the grown-ups frowned at the unfamiliar sound of modern music. But the young gathered round and soon they were jumping wildly on the sand, arms in the air, bronzed bodies moving to the beat as if possessed.

‘So this is what all the excitement is about!’ said Evelyn, who had only come to the party to keep an eye on her daughter. She looked very out of place in yellow slacks, a matching yellow twinset and pearls.

‘I rather like it,’ said Belle. ‘The boy’s got a good voice.’

Evelyn screwed up her little nose. ‘It’s good, but not excellent. I think to make it in that industry, you have to be excellent.’

‘I disagree, Evelyn. To make it in that industry you just have to be appealing,’ Belle argued.

Bill wandered over with a beer, immaculate in blue trousers and pink shirt, his blond hair swept off his face like a schoolboy spruced up by his mother. He was in good spirits, having played tennis all afternoon and only conceded a set. ‘Not bad,’ he said. ‘I’ve heard worse.’

‘I wonder whether Trixie’s here, or whether Grace had the good sense to ground her,’ Evelyn said, searching the throng of dancing bodies for the girl.

‘I meant to tell you I bumped into Freddie this morning, Evelyn,’ said Bill.

‘What did he say?’ she asked, far too curious to bother reproaching him for not having told her earlier.

‘It turns out he knew all along that they were going away for the weekend.’

‘Really?’ said Belle in astonishment. ‘And he let her go?’

‘Apparently,’ Bill answered.

‘Well, there’s a simple reason for that,’ said Evelyn. ‘They’re not like us.’

‘How do you mean, Evelyn?’ Belle asked, knowing from Evelyn’s tone exactly what she meant.

‘They’ve got no class,’ she said, lifting her chin. ‘I wouldn’t want those boys for our daughter, but for people like the Valentines, those boys are
their
level.’ She spoke as if
they
belonged to an entirely different, and inferior, species.

‘I must say, I’m surprised at Freddie. I’ve always thought him a very correct man,’ said Belle.

‘I’ve always thought him a very cold man,’ Evelyn added.

‘He warms up on the golf course,’ Bill interjected. ‘There’s nothing cold about him when he hits a hole in one!’

Evelyn rolled her eyes. ‘Right, I’ve had enough of this music. I’m going home. Bill?’

He sighed his displeasure, but knew it wasn’t worth arguing with his wife. ‘I’ve told Lucy to be home by eleven.’

‘Then you’ve got no reason to doubt that she’ll be safely tucked up in bed by five past,’ said Belle.

Belle enjoyed a good party. Her husband, John, was a great raconteur and loved nothing better than to hold an audience with his stories, usually grossly exaggerated. She wandered around the fire, talking to friends, while John held a small group in his thrall, laughing uproariously at his own punchlines. She watched the young dancing in the golden glow of the flames. They looked like savages, jumping up and down on the sand in bare feet, their naked limbs flailing about to the almost hypnotic rhythm of the drums. Her own children were in their twenties now with families of their own. She was relieved she no longer had to worry about her daughters. It was a hard time to be young, she reflected.

She remained at the party until midnight. By then most of the grown-ups had gone home, leaving only John, with a few of his closest friends, laughing at old stories told a hundred times before. By then the music had stopped. The boys now lounged on the sand with Trixie, Suzie and a few other girls, drinking beer and smoking what smelt suspiciously like weed. Belle looked a little closer. At first she didn’t believe the evidence of her own eyes. No, surely not, she thought. It was way past her curfew. But yes, indeed, there was no mistaking the pale hair and pale skin of Lucy Durlacher.

Belle was at heart a
good
person and very aware of her reputation as such. However, Evelyn had offended her tonight. She had known Evelyn all her life, they had been at high school together, and she was well aware and endlessly tolerant of her faults. Yet tonight her snobbishness had grated. Evelyn had never met those boys and the Valentines might not be ‘top drawer’, as the English would say, but they were kind,
good
people – Belle was particularly fond of Grace. So, instead of doing her duty as a friend to Evelyn, she walked away with John, leaving Lucy on the sand to smoke and flirt into the early hours of the morning.

The small group of young people remained by the fire, which was now reduced to crimson embers revived every now and then by the wind that swept in off the sea. Surrounded by empty beer bottles and cigarette butts they laughed and chatted beneath the full moon, oblivious of the time that ticked towards dawn. The gentle sound of the ocean lulled them into the realm of the unreal, as the waves washed diamonds onto the beach.

George and Lucy sat a little apart from the rest, their heads together, her hair now falling down her back like that of a sleek mermaid. She looked quite pretty in the semi-darkness, her skin having taken on a silvery translucence. They talked in low voices, punctuated by her occasional soft laughter. Trixie inhaled a spliff then passed it on to Suzie, who sat cross-legged beside Ben. ‘Mission accomplished,’ she said to her friend, nodding in the direction of George and Lucy.

‘A job well done,’ Suzie replied. ‘Now it’s my turn,’ she added, passing the spliff to Ben.

Jasper put his hand around the back of Trixie’s neck, underneath her hair, and pulled her close to kiss her. ‘You look beautiful tonight. Did I tell you?’ he whispered.

‘No, you didn’t,’ she replied softly.

‘Well, you do.’

‘Perhaps there’s a dune we can go hide behind,’ she suggested, feeling emboldened by the alcohol and cannabis.

‘I like the sound of that.’ He kissed her neck. ‘I’m not sure I can stand sitting next to you for much longer.’

‘But if we leave, we’ll break up the party.’

‘If we leave, the party will get going,’ he said. ‘Come on.’

They stood up, but none of the others seemed to notice. He took her hand and they wandered up the beach, into the darkness. They fell onto the sand and began to kiss. Trixie felt the warm sensation of desire creeping over her limbs and writhed like a pleasure-seeking cat. Jasper swept her hair off her face and buried himself in her neck. He found her mouth and began to kiss her more ardently as his thumb searched for her breasts, which rose and fell with her excited breath. Trixie was not an innocent; she had lost her inhibitions with the various lovers she had taken since she had slept with her first at the tender age of seventeen. But none of them had aroused her like Jasper. Their chemistry was the perfect blend, rendering every touch exquisite, and she thought she would die for his teasing and slow-stroking. He caressed her belly, causing desperate flutters of anticipation beneath, and then up her thighs and under her skirt, where they traced the cotton of her panties. The flutters in her belly intensified with impatience, and she opened her thighs without reservation, inviting him in.

They made love for a long while, neither of them aware nor much interested in the time. When at last they lay sated and laughing at their daring, they were interrupted by a loud squawking coming from further up the beach. At first they thought it was a seagull, or some other bird in distress. But when they rolled onto their stomachs and looked over the dune to the remains of the fire, they saw the two couples sitting up and staring at a woman with wild hair, in a dressing gown, gesticulating in fury. ‘Oh my God,’ Trixie hissed. ‘That’s Lucy’s mother!’

‘Are you serious?’ Jasper checked his watch. In the moonlight he could just make out the hands. It was half past three in the morning.

‘I’m telling you. That’s Evelyn Durlacher with her hair standing on end!’

Jasper laughed. ‘Oh dear, poor Lucy’s been caught in flagrante!’

‘Her mother’s crazy!’

‘She
looks
crazy!’ Jasper agreed. ‘I’m glad I’m not on the receiving end of that.’

They watched as Lucy was unceremoniously pulled up the sand by the arm. Trixie imagined Evelyn had seen all the empty beer bottles. She wondered what else she had seen. Had Lucy and George been making out? It was fortunate that she and Jasper were hidden behind a dune; she couldn’t afford to be in any more trouble. ‘I think you’d better walk me home,’ she said, standing up and wriggling into her panties. When she looked back at the fire she saw that George had disappeared, leaving Ben and Suzie to resume from where they had left off. She took a moment to savour the sight of her friend being kissed by the man of her dreams. She smiled at the thought of their tour. It was all going to be such fun.

Jasper picked up his guitar. ‘I’ve written a song for you,’ he said, strumming a few chords. ‘Do you want to hear it?’

‘I’d love to. I’ve never inspired a song before.’ Trixie sat on the dune and hugged her legs. ‘What’s it called?’

‘Trixie,’ he replied and laughed at himself.

‘I love it already,’ she enthused.

‘Sometimes simple is best.’ He began to play. She watched, eyes shining with emotion, as he sang to her softly. In that moment, as he sang of longing and desire, she believed she loved him more than she could ever love anyone.

When he finished, he looked at her dreamily. ‘So, what do you think?’ he asked.

‘It’s the most beautiful song I’ve ever heard.’

‘Really?’ He was incredulous. ‘Are you just saying that because it’s about you?’

‘Well, you
were
truly inspired when you wrote it.’

He laughed and the lines creased around his mouth and eyes. ‘You’re not wrong, Trixie Valentine.’

‘I think I should be your band mascot.’

‘I would be honoured,’ he replied, standing up and slinging the strap of his guitar over his shoulder. He picked up his jacket. ‘Now I’ll walk you home.’

‘Jasper,’ she began.

‘Yes?’

‘Can I come with you in the fall?’

‘Will you parents let you?’

‘If they don’t, I’ll run away with you,’ she replied confidently, gazing at him with a starry look in her eyes.

He frowned. ‘Do you really mean that?’

‘I’ve never been more sure of anything,’ she replied, taking his hand. ‘You know, I’d run away with you in a heartbeat.’

‘Then you can be my mascot and I’ll compose songs for you,’ he said. ‘All the greatest songs have been inspired by love.’

She looked at him steadily. ‘
Do
you love me?’ she asked.

He nodded slowly. ‘I think I do, Trixie.’

‘You
think
you do?’

‘No, I
know
I do,’ he said with certainty. ‘I’m just surprised by it, that’s all. This is a first time for me.’

‘And me,’ she replied, suddenly bashful. ‘But I know I love you, too.’

They walked up the beach hand in hand, feeling unexpectedly vulnerable for having disclosed the contents of their hearts. A shyness had come over them which, as well as being unfamiliar, left them both feeling a little afraid. Suddenly the playfulness of their relationship was overshadowed by the very adult implications of love.

When they reached Trixie’s house, their parting kiss was almost awkward. ‘It was fun tonight,’ she said, grinning at him in the hope of recapturing their earlier light-heartedness.

‘I had fun, too,’ he agreed, smiling down at her.

‘Now I’m going to scale the wall and climb in through my bedroom window so I don’t wake my parents.’

‘Are you sure? Don’t fall and kill yourself. I’ve just found you.’ The caring tone in his voice made her feel cherished and her heart was once again filled with bubbles.

‘I won’t,’ she replied. ‘Now watch how it’s done.’ She began to climb with enthusiasm, keen to show off her skill. She reached her bedroom window and slipped inside. Then she leaned out and waved down at him. ‘Sleep well!’ she hissed. He waved back and blew her a kiss. She watched him walk off into the dark, her heart bursting with happiness. ‘He loves me, he loves me not. He loves me . . .’ And she closed the curtains and fell into bed.

Chapter 8

The following morning it rained. Tekanasset was shrouded in a thick white cloud that drenched the island, washing it clean. Trixie would have liked to sleep in, but her father was always very strict about breakfast. The family convened in the kitchen at eight, no matter what. When she was small her mother would cook eggs, bacon and toast – a very English breakfast. Now there were pancakes, too, because Trixie had rebelled against her parents’ determination to hold onto their roots and insisted on having an American breakfast like all her friends. That meant pancakes with maple syrup.