been searching for it because when a man like Vasily wants to kiss you, you sit up and take notice.’
‘Because he’s such an enigma?’ Cat clarified.
‘Exactly,’ Rachel nodded, ‘no one knows of any woman Vasily has had. And yet it seemed he wanted me. That fact in itself was enough to turn me on. It was so flattering – I kept thinking, wow! What is it that I have that’s seeped through his armour?’ Rachel paused, cleared her throat and continued in a whisper, ‘I don’t actually fancy Vasily Jawlensky.’
‘That’s tantamount to blasphemy!’ Cat cajoled.
Rachel shrugged. ‘It’s a fact.’ She munched on some chocolate. ‘I adore him, he’s a bloody good kisser, but I don’t burn for him. You won’t believe this – it’s taken me a couple of days myself – actually I quite fancy someone else.’
‘Who?’ Cat exclaimed, intrigued. ‘You slapper!’
Rachel poked Cat. ‘André.’ She bit her lip.
‘André?’ Cat contemplated, not knowing anyone of that name in the peloton, let alone Zucca MV.
‘André Ferrette,’ Rachel said, beckoning Cat close for disclosure, ‘is the Système Vipère mechanic.’
‘Fucking hell!’ Cat declared, about to take a lump of chocolate. ‘A Viper boy? For a Zucca girl? We’re talking Montagues and Capulets here.’
Rachel winced. ‘Don’t I know it – our respective directeurs are not going to be best pleased. I bet you we’ll have accusations of sabotage and espionage thrown our way before long.’
‘So what’s happened?’ Cat implored, curling up on the bed as Rachel had. ‘I can’t think when you’ve had time to form a new union, let alone theorize so lucidly on Vasily.’
‘Aye, that’s what’s weird,’ Rachel stated. ‘I haven’t even come close to kissing André, yet my lust for him is, um, fairly pronounced and something of a distraction!’
‘I rather think you hadn’t been kissed for way too long,’ Cat mused, ‘and perhaps you believed you fancied Vasily on account of all the oscular activity.’
‘In English, do you mean I was desperate for a snog?’
‘Something like that,’ Cat laughed.
Gianni Fugallo knocked and entered, eyed the chocolate longingly, eyed the two women supine on the bed hopefully, but made do with a banana and a copy of Marie Claire.
‘Now let’s talk about Ben,’ Rachel said, her revelation having quite exhausted her. ‘I’ve heard quite enough about your Other One and anyway He Is No More.’
‘Yup,’ Cat smiled, ‘he’s firmly in the past.’
See, no capital ‘h’.
While Cat continued to gorge on chocolate and girlie gossip, her sisters, her colleagues and Ben ate liver, tongue and various indefinable parts of cow and pig at a hearty, rustic mountain-top restaurant. It was joyous and noisy, with yelling coming from the kitchen and animated chatter from the diners who were mainly presse apart from a hirsute group of men Pip decided were goat-herders, a comment which Alex reacted to with excessive chortling. Red wine flowed, as did the conversation. Especially, Josh noted, between Pip and Alex. Fen also noticed, but her attention was given to Ben.
‘Where do you live, Ben?’ Fen asked.
‘Boulder,’ said Ben.
‘In the New Forest?’ Fen exclaimed, heartened. ‘Near Lymington?’
‘Er, Colorado,’ said Ben, almost apologetically.
What’ll happen to my sister when the Tour de France finishes? What is she to you, Ben? A French fling? Might you have another lined up for the Vuelta? Was there someone during the Giro?
‘I’ve invited Cat to visit,’ Ben was saying. ‘She told me about your mother running off with a cowboy from Denver – we thought we might track her down.’
‘What, on Cat’s paltry freelance pay?’ Fen derided, unnerved that Ben was so au fait with her family history.
When has Cat ever wanted to track our mother down?
Fen wondered why she wanted to dislike Ben; especially as, having now spent time with him, she could not dispute that his seemly exterior complemented a strong, likeable character.
Nourished and rejuvenated by the wholesome food, lubricated by the wine, Ben regarded Fen quizzically.
I know I don’t have her seal of approval and the bizarre thing is, it matters to me and I rather want it.
‘I don’t mind saying I was gutted when I thought Cat was involved with someone back home,’ he said frankly. continuing while Fen was still wondering what sort of reply a statement like that necessitated. ‘But I felt,’ Ben paused, ‘I felt not just relieved but pretty damn delighted when she told me he was just an ex from months ago.’
Just An Ex? Fen thought to herself. Why hasn’t she told Ben much? Why has she played down the impact it all had on her? Her past is defining her present and will shape her future. Why, and what, does she not want Ben to know? She’s either protecting herself – or she is not being herself at all.
‘More wine, Fen?’ Ben asked, raising an eyebrow at Josh with a glance in the direction of Alex and Pip who were sporting matching flushed cheeks and looking particularly cosy.
‘Thanks,’ said Fen, who sipped and smiled politely and tried unsuccessfully to catch her sister’s eye. ‘Ben,’ she started, her conscience warning her to bite her tongue but the wine letting it loose, ‘I love my sister. She’s extremely precious,’ Fen persisted, with more than a hint of warning to her voice.
‘Fen,’ said Ben, tilting his head and regarding her.
‘I love Cat very very much,’ Fen interrupted again.
‘I know you do,’ he said, nodding again.
And I do too. But I’m not going to say it out loud. Not because I know I’m drunk, but because I’m certainly not going to tell you unless I’ve told Cat herself.
‘To Cat,’ he said instead, raising glasses that he’d refilled once more.
‘To Pip and Alex,’ Josh murmured, suddenly missing his wife desperately.
As Cat walks down from the Zucca MV hotel, she contemplates how she hasn’t seen Ben at all today. They haven’t even spoken. Not since yesterday.
And I’ve missed him. Shit.
The notion simultaneously warms Cat and worries her.
She approaches the apartment block at the same time but from the opposite direction to her sisters, her colleagues and Ben, whose status she has great difficulty in defining.
‘They’re
