I ignored her comment, surprised that Dan hadn’t asked for cow’s milk, surprised he just poured the oat milk into his coffee. And Joy too. Bob always had his black, so did Jamie, but Joy always had cow’s milk – until that night.
I enjoyed the coffee, and was just sampling a second brownie, when Ella said, ‘Clare, no offence, but I think it’s your turn to do the washing up.’ This was delivered in a jokey way, with a sidelong glance at Jamie, and a sly smile.
I would happily have washed up – in fact, I was about to offer and volunteer Dan to do it with me – but it was the way she spoke to me that stung. It was clear she could only function as Queen Bee. And, to do that, she had to diminish the people around her, which seemed to be mostly me.
I just sat there for a few moments, anger pulsating through me, my heart beating so hard, it was competing with the chirp of crickets jangling through the air. I looked around at my so-called family and wondered if anyone would stick up for me, point out that I’d cleaned the villa, taken the bins out, had actually made breakfast and lunch and washed up, most days. I didn’t mind, I was happy to do it. After all, much of the work around the villa was created by the kids.
But not one of them – not even Dan – pointed this out, made me feel better, they were all too bothered about being polite, keeping everything nice. Just as Joy liked it. No conflict, no swearing, no problems, just pretty pictures of the family on holiday; let’s not talk about the problems, let’s just wrap it all up in a nice big bow and keep on smiling. But that wasn’t working any more. It was time to shake things up with the Taylors.
‘Joy,’ I said, ‘you know how you couldn’t find your earrings last night? I think I know where they are.’
‘Do you?’ She looked hopeful.
‘Yeah. I know exactly where they are,’ I said, while all the time looking at Ella, but she suddenly seemed very interested in her wedding ring that she was now turning around on her finger and didn’t look up. ‘Ella, do you know where the earrings are?’ I asked, forcing her to look at me.
She shrugged. ‘No,’ she glanced over at Joy, ‘of course not.’
‘Have you checked your jewellery box, Ella?’ I said, and Dan put his head in his hands.
Both Ella and Jamie were now staring at me with such hatred I felt cold, in spite of the heat. No one was moving, it was stalemate, so as I’d set this train running, it was now down to me to see it through.
‘Okay,’ I said slowly, putting my napkin on the table and grating my chair along the ground. I stood up before anyone could stop me. ‘I’ll go and look, not that I need to. I know they’re there,’ I said, turning to my motherin-law, who looked so embarrassed, I felt quite sorry for her.
‘Clare, please…’ she started.
I wasn’t going to listen to her. No one wanted confrontation, me included, but sometimes there was no choice, we had to face these things head-on.
I stormed upstairs, straight to Ella and Jamie’s room, and opened the drawer, where I knew the jewellery box was stashed. Reaching in, I picked it up and sat on the bed, opening the box, savouring the moment when I would show everyone what she was.
I heard footsteps on the stairs, and Jamie walked in, standing inside the room watching me. His arms were folded, his legs apart. He was ready for battle, and as I rummaged in the cheap metal, I looked up at him and said, ‘She’s not worth fighting for, Jamie.’
I went back to the box, feeling around the chains, the plastic, the bits of detritus she’d just jammed in there, but couldn’t find the earrings, so I emptied the box on the bed and continued to sort through the tangled metal and plastic. But there were no diamond earrings.
‘They were here,’ I said, my hands frantically going through everything, on the bed. ‘They were here, Jamie, they were,’ I cried.
‘What is wrong with you, Clare?’ He was shaking his head, looking at me like I was making this up. ‘I asked Ella outright. I asked her if she’d stolen Mum’s earrings, because you told me she had – but you were wrong. Shit, I almost believed you, Clare. She was so upset, it could have ended my marriage! Any other girl would have told me to get lost, but Ella loves me and trusts me. And I trust her. That’s the problem, Clare, you don’t trust anyone. Everyone’s not like Dan…’ He stopped. I don’t think he meant to go there. ‘I’m sorry, but Ella is genuine and – believe it or not – she cares about you, Clare. She’s concerned that you feel the need to tell lies about her. Look at this performance tonight – why, Clare? Are you jealous? Is that what this is all about?’ He was still in the same position, his eyes boring into me, disapproving, disappointed, unreachable.