by JJ Marsh
“As for Clark, I messed up there, buddy. I knew you had feelings for me and I gave you the wrong idea. That wasn’t fair. Not fair at all.”
“Don’t patronise me, you shit.” Clark’s eyes were nothing more than slits and the muscles of his forearm flexed as he clenched his fists.
“Not meant as patronising in any way. Just owning up to my mistakes.” He turned to Lovisa and I recognised his modus operandi. He was looking for an ally, hoping to get just one of us on side. The heat of my anger subsided into a cool observation. After twenty years, Dhan hadn’t changed at all. Even now, he still thought his charm and claims to loyalty would win the day. Everything he had said was to justify himself. I stood up and placed another couple of logs on the fire, as if what was happening was completely normal. Then I returned to the table to watch Dhan attempt to exonerate himself in the eyes of Lovisa.
“Yes?” Lovisa asked. “Come on, I’m intrigued. In what way did your plagiarism of my work ‘entangle’ you? Perhaps you were under pressure to maintain the grade standard you stole from me? How awfully unfortunate that must have been.” Her words came out painfully, as if through broken glass.
“Lovisa, you know it wasn’t like that. I did copy your paper and I admitted it and apologised, yeah? My situation was desperate and I needed a favour. I told you in Prague I saw it as borrowing, not stealing. You had more than enough in terms of credits and high grades, so you could afford to drop a semester. I checked the university website on graduation day. You sailed through your finals with a distinction. At the end of the day, no harm done.”
Everyone’s attention was focused on Lovisa at one end of the table, watching for her reaction, so none of them saw my move coming. To be honest, I took myself by surprise. The first thing I knew was Dhan on his feet, stumbling backwards, brushing champagne out of his eyes and I held an empty glass in my right hand.
“No harm done? No harm done!” My voice was raw, as if I’d been screaming. “You selfish bastard!” I snatched up Dhan’s own glass of champagne and flung the contents at his face.
He ducked sideways and the champagne sailed past him onto the rug. “Gael, stop it! Let me explain, will you?”
“No! I’m not listening to any more of this. You swan in here with your explanations and excuses without a moment’s thought for what we suffered. And the last few days? With your stupid shitty pranks to let us know you were back. You idiot! You stupid inconsiderate imbecile! After twenty years of grieving, you turn up to scare us, hurt us and fracture those rare moments of peace we can enjoy together. I could kill you. Right now, with my bare hands, I could kill you!”
By then, everyone was on their feet. The raging electricity I emanated clearly scared the whole room, but only Clark was brave enough to put a reassuring hand on my shoulder.
His eyes on me, Dhan stepped away from me and picked up a napkin to wipe his face. “OK, maybe some of those weren’t my greatest ideas. I didn’t want to hurt anyone. The stuff with the car – letting down the tyre and that monster snowball – were designed to tip a wink to your driving skills. But I mistimed both. Sorry about your shoulder, Clark.”
Lovisa held up her bandaged hand.
“What did you do? And how is that my fault?” Dhan asked, with a touch of belligerence.
“Picking up glass from a shattered bottle of Moët et Chandon.”
“Oh, hell. That wasn’t supposed to happen. Look, you guys, I just wanted to share a few in-jokes, remind you of some of the laughs we had, so that when I turned up on the doorstep, it wouldn’t be such a shock. My bad.”
Simone’s face was grey as chalk. “In-jokes? You put a child’s ski suit upstairs on the hook after I aborted our baby. What kind of sick mind could perceive that as funny?”
Clark and Mika regarded Dhan with such an expression of disgust it would have sent me running out into the snow, never to come back.
“No! Jeez, Simone, that was not for you. All I did for you was the French maid pinafore. The ski suit was a joke for Lovisa. When we used to go skiing in Geneva, she always told me I could go to the nursery slopes with the other toddlers. That’s why I put that little suit there, as if I was back from the nursery slopes. As if I would do something so crass. I’m so sorry, it never crossed my mind you would see that as a reference to …”
“A dead child.” Simone’s expression had as much animation as that of a rattlesnake.
We were all standing, breathing heavily as if we’d been running. Resentment fuelled by shock and alcohol combined to create a poisonous atmosphere.
Mika spoke, forever the adult in the room. “It’s late, or perhaps I should say early. We’ve all had a lot to drink and even more to take in. I suggest we leave the conversation here and get some sleep. After a decent rest, I think we’ll all be better prepared to get our heads around what has happened. Let’s leave the table as it is and clean up in the morning. Dhan, where are you staying? I assume you have somewhere nearby?”
He was still dabbing water from his hair and stubbly beard. “I rented a campervan, so I could move around. Tonight, I parked it down the road, in the forest and walked here. Thing is, it’s pretty cold in there at night. Would anyone mind if I crashed on the sofa? Or if there was a spare room…”
Without a word, Simone pushed back her chair with such violence it fell over, walked away from the table and up the stairs. Lovisa followed, throwing a glance at me.
Clark met Mika’s eyes, his expression mutinous. “I think we should kick the lying bastard out into the snow, but I’ll leave the decision up to you. One thing, Mika, if he stays, he stays on the sofa. I don’t want him upstairs with us. Period. See you in the morning.”
Once Clark had gone, Mika checked the front door and pulled the guard across the fire. I found a couple of throws for Dhan to use as a bed cover. Pungent wafts left over from our banquet permeated the room, so I began to clear the table.
Dhan waved a hand at me as if I were a servant. “Leave that, mate. I can sort it out. Thank you for letting me stay. Hopefully, in the morning, they’ll find it easier to understand why I did what I did. Goodnight, Mika, goodnight Gael.”
I nodded once and turned to climb the stairs, Mika on my heels. Once I reached the first floor, I saw the door to Simone’s room was open and dark. Lovisa’s was shut and a strip of light showed from beneath her door. Mika faced me and bent to press his forehead against mine.
“Goodnight, Gael.”
“Night, Mika.”
In the bathroom, I washed my face and cleaned my teeth. On tiptoe, I crept past Lovisa’s room. No more drama or discussions till morning, I was wrung out. A pop from downstairs stopped me in my tracks. I padded halfway down the steps to peer into the living room.
Dhan was sitting at the dining table, pouring himself a glass of champagne from a fresh bottle he’d taken from our fridge. He gathered all the dishes of leftovers towards him and as I watched from the shadows, he began to eat.
Moving like a ghost, I went to knock on Lovisa’s door.
Chapter 24: Gael, now
The three of us sat in Lovisa’s room for over an hour, comforting, crying and whispering to each other. Finally, Simone and I chose to wash our puffy faces and rest in our own beds. We exhorted each other to lock our doors. I lay on the bed, fully clothed, telling myself I would get up in a moment, undress and switch off my mind. I didn’t. Instead, I stared at the snowflakes falling past my window, playing over and over scenes from the previous twenty years. The endless police station interviews, the awful memorial service, that lunch we shared with Dhan’s devastated family, ten different New Year’s Eves paying tribute to a man who wasn’t dead. Grief, guilt, loss, decades of pain all for nothing.
The house creaked and gurgled, and every groan of timber alerted my system like a jolt of electricity. My eyes were scratchy and dry but I couldn’t seem to lift my head off the pillow. I catnapped, having strange half dreams in which the wind whisked away my beach ball and blew it out to sea. When I ran after i
t, a sleek grey shape rose from the waves, caught the ball and took it underwater. It was a seal and it was also Dhan. My dream self cried hot, hiccupping, childish tears.
A sound woke me. This time it was not the snaps or shifts of an old wooden building. Someone was outside my door. The tapping came again, accompanied by a faint whisper.
“Gael? Gael are you awake?”
I sat up and stared at the door. The voice came again.
“Gael, it’s Clark. I need your help.”
I scrambled to my feet and unlocked the door. Clark stood there, fully dressed apart from his sling. He looked over his shoulder and slipped inside the room. He locked the door and rested his back against it.
“Sorry to wake you.” He took in what I was wearing. “You not been to bed either?”
I rubbed my eyes. “Not really. Dozed a bit but had some really weird dreams. Why do you need my help?”
“Painkillers, please. The alcohol has worn off and my shoulder hurts like a bastard. Do you have any more of those pills you gave me?”
“They weren’t mine, they were Lovisa’s. Go in the bathroom across the landing and there is a first-aid box on the cabinet. She’s got plenty in there.” I sat back on the bed, resting my forearms on my knees. Rather than leaving the room to search for his drugs, Clark sat next to me, wrapping his right arm around my shoulders and pulling me towards his chest. I rested my head against his chin and took in the scent of the man. Wherever we were, island, city, mountain or beach, Clark smelled of pine forest. We sat like that for several minutes, taking comfort in each other’s presence. The reassurance was soporific.
“Listen,” he whispered. “None of us can handle this freak show if we spend all night awake. I’m gonna pop some pills and you should slug one of these. Kinda like cocoa with a kick.”
He pulled out a miniature bottle from his pocket. Bailey’s Irish Cream. I laughed and shook my head. “You know me, Clark, never been interested in the sweet stuff.”
“Who gives a goddamn about the taste? Drink it, down in one, and get some decent rest. Trust me, this is exactly what you need.” He twisted the cap from the bottle and handed it to me.
I passed the bottle under my nose and the tempting hint of whiskey promising a silky caress overpowered my resistance. I drank it, in three mouthfuls. Clark took the bottle from my hand, eased me gently back on the bed and covered me with the duvet.
His lips, dry and soft, met my forehead, with a little pressure. “Sleep tight, sweetcheeks. Tomorrow’s another decade.” His weight left the mattress and the door closed.
When I awoke, sweaty with a thumping head, desert-dry mouth and itchy eyes, my number one priority was to get to the bathroom. Outside, it was not quite light. The sky had a bluish tinge preceding dawn but I was not in the mood to admire the sunrise. All my focus was upon my bodily needs. I threw back the duvet, grimacing as the equilibrium in my head adjusted. I placed my feet on the floor and with the assistance of the bedside table, managed to stand and turn on the light. My eyes squeezed shut in the glare. Hellfire, how much had I drunk? In my memory, almost nothing. I threw most of it over Dhan.
Dhan.
The memory of last night hit me like a bucket of cold water in the face. I stood there, willing my head to clear until my bladder insisted I move. I tugged at the door handle but it held fast. Of course, we all locked our doors when we went to bed. I blinked. There was no key. I looked around the room, wondering where on earth I would have put the key. The bladder situation became an emergency. I tugged at the door handle, kicked at the door, shouted for Lovisa or Simone to help me, but there was no reply. Panic seized me and I searched the room for some kind of vessel in which I could pee. The plastic waste paper bin caught my eye. I hauled out the plastic liner and squatted over the bin, a blessed release. As my sense of panic subsided, my puzzlement grew. Why was my bedroom door locked? Where was the key? Where was everyone else? What time was it?
I cleaned up and parked the bin in the corner, covering it with a T-shirt, then searched the whole room for the key. Drunk and emotional, I must have locked the door and taken out the key for safe-keeping. Under my pillow? On the dressing-table? There was a half-drunk bottle of water on the windowsill which I grabbed and glugged, thankful to myself for leaving it there. The act of tipping the bottle to my lips triggered a memory.
Clark was here. Sometime in the night, Clark came in and gave me a mini bottle of Bailey’s Irish Cream. No wonder my head was so muggy. I never drank whiskey in any form. But if Clark was in my room, how come it was now locked? I sat on my bed, trying to process events. Then I pulled back the curtains and stared out at the featureless greyscape, seeing nothing but endlessly falling snow. Crouching by the door, I squinted through the keyhole. No light, no keyhole view of the landing, nothing. Which leads a logical mind to deduce that there is a key in the keyhole. On the outside.
I sat back on my bottom, cross-legged, trying to work out why I was locked in my room. I pressed my ear to the door and listened for any sign of life. Nothing. Any kid who grew up with sneaky siblings knows one trick you can try with a locked door. There was enough of a gap between floor and door to roll a cigar through. A few seconds rummaging through my belongings and I found a printout of all the terms and conditions of the chalet. I slid it under the door and positioned it right underneath the door handle and keyhole. Then I grabbed my make-up bag and selected a pair of tweezers. I sat as close as I could get to the door, inserted the tweezers into the keyhole and pinched the end of the key. I twisted right, left, right a bit further and when the mechanics settled into place with my pincers pressed either side of the key, I pushed backwards. The key moved, as I hoped it would, but the big wooden door was wider than my weedy tweezers. I pressed and pushed as far as it would go, but the key remained loosely in the lock.
Breathe. I took three huge breaths to calm my mind, and visualised the lock. The key was probably less than a third into the lock. In the correct position, with the correct tool, I could push it back until it fell onto the paper and I could draw it under the door. The tweezers were too short. There had to be something in this room or in my luggage that I could use to eject the key. I closed my eyes and concentrated on exactly the type of thing I needed and trusted my mind to deliver the answer. Unbidden, Dhan’s eyebrows appeared in my mind. I opened my eyes. Eyebrows. I went back to my make-up bag and found my eyebrow brush. Long, thin and with a comb and brush end, it was perfect for eyebrows and eyelashes and now, keyholes.
Twenty seconds later, the key slipped out of the lock and thudded onto the paper. I drew it carefully under the door and into the room with a childlike sense of triumph. Gotcha! I unlocked the door and stepped out onto the landing. Every other door on this floor was open and from where I stood, I could see they were all empty. I took my ersatz potty into the bathroom and emptied it into the toilet. While washing and cleaning the bin, the urge to do the same for myself became overpowering. I stripped off the clothes I’d worn all night and jumped into the shower, making sure to lock the bathroom door.
Washed, dressed and feeling a lot better than I had when I woke up, I made my wary way downstairs. The clock said 06.45 and the place was empty. On the sofa was a bundle of bedclothes, but no trace of our unexpected guest. All the plates and serving dishes from last night were still on the dining table, stinking of curry. I started clearing the table because the smell was making me feel sick. Once I’d switched on the dishwasher and washed all the pans, I went upstairs to the top floor to see if the guys were still in bed. Both Clark’s and Mika’s rooms were empty, as was their bathroom. The fourth door on that floor was closed. Had Dhan got uncomfortable on the sofa and come up to sleep here? I tapped on the door. No answer. With some trepidation, I turned the handle and eased it open. Inside, a neatly made bed which had not been slept in. I closed the door and checked the rack beside the back door. All their ski suits were still there, including the child’s one Simone had mentioned last night. So where had they gone and why did
they lock me into my room?
My stomach gave a long whining sound, like a cat yawning. I descended to the kitchen and made myself some coffee and French toast. The food helped clear my head and settle my stomach. The final touch would be to get some fresh air. I looked out of the window at the snow. Not the crisp sunny day I could have hoped for, and in this low cloud, visibility would be poor. But I wouldn’t go far. Perhaps just a short stroll down the lane and back.
I returned to my room for a jumper and some thick socks. Out of the window, I saw people approaching along the ski trail, one dragging a sled. As they drew closer, I recognised Mika. His height always gave him away. I ran up the flight of stairs to greet them as they arrived at the back door.
Simone was unlocking the door and stopped short when she saw me bounding up the last few steps. I couldn’t hear what she said to the others, but they all stared at me as if in shock. Lovisa was the first to enter.
“Good morning, Gael, and happy New Year!” She held out her arms for a hug and I pressed my warm cheeks against a freezing face. “How did you sleep?”
“Happy New Year to you too! Where have you been?”
The other three bundled into the room after knocking the snow from their boots. I saw no sign of the sledge. We wished each other Happy New Year and I hugged each of them in turn. As they unzipped, and laced and unbuckled their outdoor things, I couldn’t wait to ask my questions.
“So? Where have you been? When I woke up, my bedroom door was locked from the outside. Which of you did that, and why? And where did Dhan go?”
Lovisa pulled off her glove with a wince, and I saw the bandage beneath was bloody. Simone was assisting Clark in taking off his jacket.
Mika shook his head, but kept his gaze averted. “We don’t know where he is. That’s where we’ve been, out looking for him. When we came down this morning, he was gone.”