Page 3 of The Best Friend
‘Here they come,’ Darcy says, checking her watch. ‘They’re a little late out, today.’
I glance over to the double doors to see Joe’s teacher, Mrs Landry, followed by a neat line of boys and girls. It’s completely different to the sprawling, raucous exit made by the children at Joe’s previous state school.
The children shake their teacher’s hand and are handed off to the parents, one-by-one. Joe’s face lights up at the sight of me and I feel a familiar rush of love. He’s surrounded by his new friends, Tyler at the forefront proudly proclaiming that Joe’s coming to his house tonight.
‘Where are you parked?’ Darcy asks. ‘Do you want to follow me back?’
‘That would be great,’ I say.
She tells me her address just in case we get separated, and we make our way back to the cars.
Fifteen minutes later, we’re following Darcy’s silver Bentley through a set of electric gates. A workman looks up and winks at me – cheeky sod. He and another guy are painting the eight-foot high boundary wall that seems to run on into infinity. It doesn’t even look as though it needs painting. The driveway is so long I haven’t glimpsed the house yet. We pass gardeners and groundsmen on our slow cruise.
‘Does Tyler live in a castle?’ Joe asks from the back seat.
I stifle a giggle. ‘Maybe,’ I say. ‘Let’s wait and see.’
We round another bend and finally spy the house up ahead. I had assumed it would be a tacky McMansion, a tasteless pastiche like so many of the other properties in this area. But it’s actually a super-modern wood and glass house. Although the word ‘house’ is somewhat inadequate. ‘Residence’ is probably more fitting.
‘It’s like a sci-fi castle,’ Joe says. ‘It’s way bigger than our house. Not as big as Hogwarts, though.’
I mentally make a note never to invite Darcy over to our house for a playdate, and then shake my head inwardly at my insecurities. Who cares if I live in a normal house and she lives in a glass castle.
Darcy pulls up outside a row of 4 garages. I park my eight-year-old VW Golf next to her gleaming Bentley. Jared would die if he saw this place. I can’t wait to tell him about it. Joe and I get out of the car and follow Darcy to the front door.
‘Come in,’ she says. ‘Let’s get that kettle on.’
The boys charge ahead, chattering to each other about football. There’s no awkwardness or politeness between them, they’re just excited to have one another to play with.
‘There’s a plate of snacks on the counter!’ Darcy calls to them. ‘Help yourself on your way outside.’
‘We probably won’t see them for the rest of the afternoon,’ I say. ‘Not if they’re going out to play football. Joe’s obsessed.’
‘Tyler, too.’ We grin at each other and I follow her through to the most magnificent view I’ve ever seen. Forget that the place is designed like a palace, ahead of us stretches a wall of glass with a view out over the ocean. This is Sandbanks Beach as I’ve never seen it before. Not from this angle anyway.
‘Great view, huh?’ she says, as my mouth hangs open.
‘Gorgeous,’ I say.
‘We moved here a couple of years ago. There was an older property on the land and we demolished it and rebuilt. But I know it’s all about the view. Let’s go out on the deck and watch them play. Marianna will bring our drinks out. Tea?’
‘Please.’ I nod, noticing a dark-haired woman in a maid’s uniform at the far end of the huge kitchen diner.
We step out onto the terrace and sit at a chunky, wooden, square table. Below the deck lies a vast area of emerald grass where the boys are playing football. Beyond that, a white wall, and then the beach. The evening sun is warm on my face, we’re perfectly sheltered from any stray breath of wind.
‘Are you from America?’ I ask.
‘Uh huh. Is my accent that obvious? My US friends say I’ve lost it. They tell me I’ve gone all British.’
‘It’s only slight,’ I say. ‘It’s pretty, though.’
‘Thanks.’ She raises her eyebrows and turns her gaze to the boys. ‘So what do you think of Cerne Manor School so far?’
‘It’s amazing. Joe’s adapted really quickly. He loves it.’
‘Tyler, too.’
‘Tyler’s really helped him settle in. It’s great they get on so well.’ I hear a noise behind me and turn my head to see Darcy’s maid bringing a tray of tea things – a teapot, china cups, and a plate of biscuits. At my place, she would’ve got a couple of mugs and a shared teabag. Okay, maybe a teabag each, but still.
