LA to The Bay

Chapter 52: Santa Barbara (1)

Pepper Tree Inn, Santa Barbara

I stand on the balcony of my room at the Pepper Tree Inn, Santa Barbara, my mood elevated slightly after the morning; because as soon as the clock struck one the mist completely evaporated, making me question if it was ever there at all, or if it was all just part of my reaction to the trauma of last night. But with the throbbing sunshine now cheering us for the first time in days the gregariousness of the group has slowly returned, especially as we selected our outfits for the wedding reception we are about to attend. Except now, here at this quaint hispanic style accommodation, with the magenta bougainvillea climbing vibrantly around the white walled backdrop, I'm beginning to worry that the black gown I selected is no longer appropriate. I remain quiet for a moment appreciating the steady heat of the early evening only too aware that this may be one of my last chances to enjoy the sunshine before my return to England.

'Wow.' Ana says on sight of my dress. 'I know I always say it, but you are going to kill them all over again with that material and neckline.'

'Do you think it's inappropriate?' I rub the black satin fabric between my fingers, now anxious that the deep plunging 'V' neckline is asking for trouble, or a cat fight with the Models Inc. at the very least, but the way the fabric drapes like a cascading waterfall was too hard to resist and it would seem too out of character if I suddenly decided to flaunt myself around pretending to be a sunny California bunny in pink or gold or yellow. I'm all about Parisian chic remember, the Angelina Jolie to everyone else's Jennifer Aniston.

'Of course not; it's floor length, so it's not like your showing any leg.' She grins at me.

'But you don't think it's too...' I consider my words, 'morbid?'

'It's very you.' Ana smiles and I'm not sure whether or not to take her response as a compliment. 'So are you prepared for everyone to be in one place together again, after last night?' She asks whilst buttoning up her canary yellow cigarette pants. Now she can carry off colour.

'Well I guess things can't get any worse, now can they?' I half sigh half laugh.

'I guess not.' She laughs too. 'So what are you going to do, just ignore everyone? It will be the like the start of the trip all over again.'

The idea of ignoring everyone sounds like a good option, not that it should be very hard since Louis obviously doesn't want to talk to me and I've not heard a hint from Harry since his weirdness this morning, like they were his final departing words to me. It's making me start to think that he might be avoiding me and that he might really be regretting that any of it ever happened. But I'm going home soon and it will only be a matter of days before I can look back on this for what it actually is, a holiday romance, nay not even that, a mere brief encounter, and I really am quite surprised at how easy it's been for me to get carried away with it all.

The grounds of the wedding venue are spectacular; a grand Mediterranean villa with peach paint work and a gazillion fairy lights hanging from every object, and I suddenly feel like a European Princess attending a millionaires summer gala. Maybe Paolo's whole fashion sense is styled like it is because he's not really a dancer at all but some sort of drugs baron, for I've no other guess at how else he's managed to acquire a venue like this. The gardens are littered with faux ornate fountains crowned with sculptures of Zeus and Aphrodite, and a bit further along the gravel path is a giant swimming pool where the guests are gathered and sipping champagne.

I suddenly feel way out of my league, like what the hell am I actually doing here, did someone give me their ticket by mistake, and the feeling is only enhanced when I finally spot Harry chatting with Lottie by the pool, all hallmarks of last nights horror, albeit the bruise, now washed away, as he's now wearing a black suit with a white shirt and black tie, and I have to laugh that we clearly had the same idea with our funeral attire. Still, that doesn't make me feel any less daunted by his overwhelming image which is even more intense than usual due to the neat fit of the suit, something which is obviously drawing the attention of many of the other female guests too. I mean do they have to gawk so obviously? Have some respect and put your tongues away ladies.

'You look beautiful Niamh.' He finally comes over to where I am standing, alone, next to a fountain of Cupid, and despite the obvious irony of this ridiculous looking marble creation, I can't help but feel a wave of relief that he can't be totally avoiding me.

'Thanks.' I smile at him gently, desperate to speak to him, to wrap my arms around him and kiss him, but we're both aware that we need to keep our distance from this point forth. It will all be over soon and I'll never have to see him again, I remind myself.

'I'm sorry to interrupt, but I need to speak to you Niamh.' Without noticing Duncan has joined us. 'Alone.' As much as I adore him what could he possibly need to tell me that is so important right now?

'Er, can it wait?' I snap, a bit too obviously.

'I'm sorry it can't.' He's rubbing his hands together and pulling at his collar and sweating like he's nervous about something. Oh please don't let him be about to confess his feelings to me, since I was honestly relieved when he finally kissed Ana as it meant that he'd managed to get over any secret affections he might have been holding out for me. For all the drama of these past few days the last thing I need is a second love triangle to blow up around me. Can all this still even be classed as I love triangle since I think it's definitely at least a hexagon if we consider all the parties involved?

'There's something I need to tell you.' He speaks again now Harry has left us, and I brace myself, my eyes closing, as I prepare for his confession. 'It was me.' His words are slow.

'What was?' I look at him confused having no idea what he is talking about. 'It was me who told Louis.' His shame is apparent as he looks at the ground and I cling to the fountain for support, as I finally comprehend what he means.

'But how did you find out, I don't understand?' My heart is racing and I'm panicking, struggling to deal with what other details he might be about to tell me.

'I followed when you left the party at the cabin. I saw you go in to the woods with him and I don't know, I just couldn't help myself. I couldn't believe you were actually following him.'

'I didn't follow him.' I spit, humiliated further at his suggestion that I was somehow trailing after Harry desperately. 'And then what?' I stare at him nauseated, 'you watched us? When we were together?' I raise my hand to my mouth to steady my breathing and prevent myself from vomiting.

'I did.' His words are flat.

'But why would you do that?'

'I don't know. I was jealous.'

'What were you jealous of Duncan?' My voice is shaking and wary.

'I was jealous that I couldn't have you and angry that he could, just like every other sorry episode of my life. I was just going to interrupt you, pretend that I had found you by accident, but then it got to far...' His words trail, pained by the memory. 'I'm so sorry Niamh, please can you forgive me?'

Authors note: I uploaded a photo of the dress I imagine Niamh to be wearing except it would be black satin not white. (PS - I don't imagine her as Angelina Jolie though, I imagine her as Taylor Hill, remember).