‘Stone the bloody crows,’ breathed Caro as Grace led her out on to the terrace. The infinite green shades of the rainforest looked spectacular from there, especially in the softening light of the late afternoon with the soothing breeze and the soft caw of toucans coming from the treetops. Although it was only ten miles outside the capital city of Palumbo, it felt as if they were in the middle of the throbbing Amazon jungle.
Over excellent mojitos mixed by Isabella’s butler, the girls gossiped about old times and new. Caro’s life appeared to have changed little – in Goa she had found men, parties and an exotic, bohemian way of life that suited her down to the ground. Excitedly she quizzed Grace about her intimate yet elegant wedding, a candlelit ceremony and reception at El Esperanza. Grace told her how glorious she had felt in her long flowing gown; ripe and luscious like a Botticelli painting, thin folds of chiffon swooping from an empire-line gown disguising her belly from the most conservative and Catholic of guests. It was only in the telling of it that Grace realised just how crazy, exotic and alien her life had become since she had left Port Douglas.
‘You’re used to it though, aren’t you?’ said Caro. ‘The high life?’
‘What do you mean?’
Caro looked away. ‘I found a copy of Hello! magazine in this hostel in Goa. I flicked through it and there was this story about you getting married to Gabe. Grace, your dad is the twenty-third richest man in the United Kingdom.’
‘He’ll be disappointed to have slipped out of the top twenty,’ said Grace, trying to smile. She shrugged. ‘I know I should have told you, but I was . . . well, I was embarrassed. Plus I was trying to get away from all that money and luxury.’
‘Doesn’t look like you tried very hard.’ Caro grinned, looking up at the decorated ceiling of the sitting room. ‘I always wondered why you never talked about your family. I mean, what do they make of it all?’
Unwelcome memories flooded back. When Grace had phoned with news of her pregnancy and impending marriage, her father had demanded she come home to ‘sort yourself out’. When she had refused, he had flown out to Parador with her mother and a hung-over Miles in tow for the wedding. Somewhere between his irate phone call and arriving at El Esperanza, he had obviously decided it would be good PR to put in an appearance at his daughter’s big day, especially as it would make the papers. Thankfully, a takeover bid in London had meant that he could only stay twenty-four hours in Parador and when Miles had made noises to return with him, Grace had actively encouraged the whole party to go and leave her to enjoy what was left of the celebratory weekend.
‘So where are the twins?’ said Caro eagerly.
Grace glowed with pleasure at the mention of her children. Finding herself married to a world-famous writer was strange enough, especially when you considered he
might soon be president of a country she’d barely heard of before. But having children had been even more of a revelation. She’d never really thought about having kids; it was something that would happen much later in life when she’d travelled and had a career and was totally settled. But it hadn’t happened like that and she couldn’t say she had regretted it for a minute. Oh yes, of course there were times when she was so exhausted she had spent all day in her nightie, and despite the presence of servants and El Esperanza’s luxuries – swimming pool, tennis court, hammam – none of it helped with the isolation of raising the twins, especially with Gabriel barely there. But Olivia and Joseph had brought a joy of such depth to her life that sometimes she wondered if she deserved to feel so happy.
She led Caro into the nursery where the twins were sleeping in separate cots.
‘These are my babies,’ she said, leaning in and scooping up Olivia who yawned, blinking at the room.
‘She’s so adorable!’ cried Caro, taking the infant and sitting her on her knee, making goo-goo noises at her.‘Oh Grace, I can’t believe you’re a mummy.’
‘It’s mad, isn’t it? You know I found my first grey hair this morning? I’m twenty-three! No one warns you quite how knackering motherhood is.’
‘Maybe you should make your nannies work a bit harder.’ Caro smiled.
‘We don’t have one.’
Caro looked at her in disbelief. ‘You are kidding me?’ she said. ‘You have a man to put an umbrella on your cocktail, but you don’t have anyone to help with the twins?’
Grace shook her head. ‘Gabe is paranoid about the staff. As you’ve seen, the house is pretty secure but there’s still a danger someone might infiltrate the place. One of Parador’s top judges was killed at the weekend by his pool cleaner.’
‘Fuck what Gabriel thinks,’ said Caro with passion. ‘He’s not the one getting up at five in the morning, is he? If you want a nanny, you get a nanny.’
Caro bounced Olivia up and down on her lap where she gurgled happily. Grace watched her friend. Despite Caro’s hard-edged looks – the nose ring, the spiky hair now a rich maple-leaf orange – she was a natural with kids.
‘So what are your plans?’ asked Grace. She almost hadn’t wanted to ask, fearing that Caro would say it was a flying visit.
‘D’you mind if I stay a couple of weeks? The flight ticket wiped me out.’
‘A couple of weeks?’ said Grace with delight. ‘That’s brilliant! No, I mean, stay as long as you want. The house is big enough. Although you may change your mind when you meet Gabriel’s mother.’
‘After I get my feet on the ground, I guess I’ll head off to Palumbo, see what I can cook up there,’ said Caro.
‘Parador is a dangerous place, Caro. You don’t want to be roaming around Palumbo alone.’
Caro stretched out her toes. ‘Could have fooled me. From what I’ve seen it’s like bloody paradise – whoops!’ she said, covering Olivia’s ears.
‘I’m serious, Caro,’ said Grace. ‘The drug cartels have made it nasty and innocent people get caught in the crossfire.’
‘You know me, Gracie,’ replied Caro. ‘I like to walk on the wild side.’
‘This is serious, Caro. I’ll only really feel safe if you’re here at El Esperanza.’