‘Tastes like bonfire night, burning wood and treacle toffee,’ I said, coming up for air. ‘I like it – but there’s quite a bitter aftertaste.’
‘The finest cigar you’ll ever taste,’ Bob said, holding his in the air, then bringing it down to his mouth, breathing in, then slowly exuding smoke from his mouth, like a dragon. The two men were experts in their smoking deception, and I doubted it was the first time they’d hidden their vice from Joy. And I remember wondering for the first time what other secrets this family kept from each other.
Suddenly Joy’s voice pierced the companionable smoking silence. ‘Bob, Bob, where are you?’
Bob almost choked on his cigar, and quickly handed it to Jamie. ‘I’d better go,’ he said. ‘Don’t want her coming out here and finding both of us. I’ve got some mints here.’ He opened a pack and put a handful in his mouth, giving the rest to Jamie.
Jamie laughed. ‘It’s okay, Dad, if Mum suspects anything, we’ll tell her Clare made us do it.’
Bob rolled his eyes and Jamie just carried on smoking Bob’s cigar while his father scuttled off, shouting, ‘I’m here Joy, just popped out for a bit of fresh air.’
‘He’s terrified,’ I giggled.
‘I don’t blame him. My mother’s evangelical about not smoking, and, as we all know, her wrath is biblical.’ He smiled, taking an elegant toke on Bob’s cigar. It seemed I’d inherited Jamie’s.
‘Your mum wouldn’t be cross with you!’ I said. ‘“Our Jamie” never does anything wrong.’
‘God bless her, she doesn’t have a clue, does she?’ He raised his cigar in the air elegantly, and smiled mischievously.
I giggled. Even in my maelstrom of doubt and hurt, Jamie could lift my spirits. I was grateful, I needed this.
‘I think I’ve had enough of this, it’s making my throat dry,’ he said, dabbing his cigar out on the wall, while I did the same. ‘Enough Cuban for one night – let’s go inside and get pissed on my mother’s gin and blame it all on Dan.’
‘Sounds like a plan,’ I’d said, following him through the garden, suddenly feeling more light-hearted, more hopeful than I had for months. Jamie wasn’t just a brother-in-law, he was more like a good friend. I was incredibly fond of him. I still am.
So we went to the villa, opened the door and I’ll never forget it. Everywhere was deathly quiet, all the lights turned off, so Jamie lit a few candles that made our shadows dance around the room. Then he poured two large glasses of gin, and we sat down on the floor by the empty fireplace redundant in a Greek summer. I wrapped myself in one of Joy’s expensive pashminas that she’d left on the sofa. It wasn’t cold, but I felt so relaxed in the candlelight as he told me about his latest travels.
‘Every country I’ve ever been to has shaped me,’ he said. ‘I know it’s a cheesy thing to say, but the names of those cities are scratched on my heart, like graffiti.’
‘Yeah… that is a cheesy thing to say – but it’s lovely too.’ I smiled, thinking how different he was from Dan. He was younger, easier, lighter somehow, with his easy charm and quick wit.
He told me about his plans to spend the next summer in Penang, and I remember the faraway look in his eyes as he talked of the beaches and the little fishing boats. I knew he’d be off again soon; he always said he couldn’t stay in one place for too long. I assumed he’d always be like that, the nomadic brother always moving on. He was like an addict, just one more trip, one more continent to conquer, one more little scratch on his heart. He didn’t just bring cigars back with him from his travels, he brought excitement, describing to me those faraway places I’d probably never see, other than through his eyes.
‘So why did you really run outside tonight?’ he said quietly, as he handed me a second glass of gin and sat back down next to me on the floor. He smelt of bonfires and musk.
I didn’t answer straight away, wasn’t sure if it was fair to confide in Jamie before confronting Dan. Then again, who was playing fair – Dan certainly wasn’t. I took several gulps of gin. Aromatic, citrusy, it burned my throat but also anaesthetised the pain, and I told him what I’d heard Dan saying on the phone about leaving me.
After a while, I looked up at him. ‘Don’t try and tell me there’s a reasonable explanation, Jamie, because there isn’t. It’s clear what’s going on.’ My throat was tight with tears and, in the dark, I saw tenderness in his eyes. In that moment, everything changed. He wasn’t Dan’s little brother who made me laugh, who teased me mercilessly and who I saw like my own little brother. He was Jamie, a good-looking younger man, with a wealth of experience, a weakness for women and a hint, just a hint, of danger.