by Ruby Soames
‘All the results are back,’ Ferdi says. ‘You’re lucky. But I knew that already.’
‘Apart from this,’ I slide back the sheet to show him the bruises on my legs. ‘And when I breathe in everything hurts.’
‘Sarah, I’m so sorry,’ he says. And he means it. ‘Now. I looked up your flight online, all’s in order. Meanwhile, your mother’s bearing up … she’s captured the holiday spirit with impressive aplomb. I took the liberty of showing her around the island yesterday. And she swam – after everything!’ He laughs as the memory comes back to him. ‘What a star she is! Such true British spirit.’
He chuckles to himself at some private joke. ‘But most of the time, she was beside your bed waiting for you to come around. She told me the whole story! I couldn’t believe he gave up on love because he feared his family! Goodness!’
He claps his hands together. ‘Finished your drink? Oh, I forgot to ask, who’s the mystery man who sent you flowers?’
‘Huh?’
‘A young gentleman apparently came to ask about you – I didn’t manage to see him, he did it all very furtively, cornered one of the porters.’
A huge vase of flowers sits on the other side of the room. Beautiful flowers, birds of Paradise, red hibiscus – an impressive display.
‘There’s a note,’ said Ferdi, following my gaze. ‘Shall I open it?’
‘He was here?’ Of course I want so much to hope that news of my accident had reached Joseph and that he’d come for me.
‘OK, it’s written in ballpoint pen, definitely a man’s handwriting, and it says … Was knowing the truth worth dying for? Maybe now you realise, you were the lucky one. More than a friend.’
‘Let me see that.’
Ferdi passes me the card. Those three cryptic sentences are definitely not written in Joseph’s writing, nor his style.
‘I’ve no idea who that’s from.’
‘The story was on the local news … you can imagine, the island’s been abuzz with the tragic death of Mr Hardwick – you know people. Do you need anything?’
‘No, Ferdi … just feed me morphine and let me hear the birds sing.’
‘The hotel doctor wants to take another look at you. Oh and Kamilla will call again tonight around –’
The door opens hard hitting the cupboard. We both turn to see Yuleka hurl herself into the room.
Her eyes blaze, her shoulders curl around her ears and the breasts meet me at eye-level. ‘You!’
A giant, prehistoric lizard gathering a mouthful of acid to spew comes to mind. ‘You!’ she repeats. ‘You! How dare you tell lies about my late husband!’
Late husband, she’d caught onto widowhood quickly.
‘How dare you!’ She picks up a pair of slipperettes and throws them in my direction.
‘Yuleka, what are you …’
‘All because of you, my love’s not here with me!’
‘What are you talking about?’ There is a screech of indignation in my voice.
‘What? Am? I? Talking? About?’ She is no longer the prancing young bride but someone – something – preternatural, dark and dangerous. ‘You made him stay with you to try and seduce him – ah yes – and then, when he turned you down because I’m the only woman he ever wanted – you! You make up these stories about him – saying he’s your father! You are crrrrazy! You are so … jealous of me! But you – you are not getting anything from us!’
‘Yuleka – you left him in the cave.’
‘Another lie! Another lie! Oh my God, this girl! This cheap –’
‘I gave Henry the only life ring.’
Ferdi stands up. ‘Excuse me, lady. I have to ask you to leave.’
Yuleka raises her long, sabre-like nails in my face. ‘You have committed four crimes against me. Number 1: You tried to steal my husband! Number 2: You kill him! Number 3: You tell lies – Oh yeah! Bunny told me all about what you been going around saying. And Number 4: I’m suing you for slander! Here’s my lawyer … Where’s –?’ she turns towards the door. ‘Bradshaw!’
I sit up and try to put my feet to the floor.
‘Bradshaw! He’ll be here, in a minute. He’s the best lawyer you can get – he’s known Henry for years and he’s gonna slice you up. Then I’m calling security to get you out of this hotel and onto the streets where you belong.’ She shrieks at the top of her voice but she doesn’t move anything other than her lips. ‘Bradshaw!’
‘Yuleka, Henry is my father. He confirmed it before he died – to me and my mother.’
‘Your mother? Yeah? So where’s she then?’ She slaps her hands on her hips, thrusts out her chest while her ringlets spring out from every part of her head. ‘You are sick! Sick!’
‘Henry was my father.’
She moves her face to an inch from mine. ‘You’re not touching his money, if you think that, you gotta another thing comin’ girlfriend.’
I shuffle back. ‘I don’t want his money. I don’t want anything from him … but I want you to get out!’
A man in a black suit hurries through the door. ‘Mrs Hardwick,’ he takes her arm. ‘Mrs Hardwick, please.’
‘Here he is, Bradshaw, my lawyer. This one. Right. First off, I want you to sue her for slander – for those four things I told about. Sue her!’
‘Mrs Hardwick, may I suggest that we all,’ he is sweating heavily into the collar of his dark suit, ‘leave this lady alone and –’
‘Excuse me! Mr –’ I say, but Yuleka’s fingers are flicking in front of my eyes.
‘Don’t you even speak to him! He’s my lawyer – not yours!’
The lawyer makes a few strides towards me, and I raise my voice over Yuleka’s tirade. ‘Henry’s last wishes were to acknowledge me as his daughter. He said –’
‘Miss –?’ says Bradshaw.
‘Miss Tyler. My mother and Henry had an affair before he was married. They had me. I don’t want anything, just his name on my birth certificate.’
Yuleka thrusts her index finger toward my nose. ‘You know what, my dear? You are so tasteless and tacky! This is a classy hotel. This man has come all the way from London to look after me! You’re just embarrassing yourself!’
I try to swat her finger away but she keeps re-planting it in front of me. ‘When I first saw you I said to Henry, I don’t trust that girl. She’s out to get my man – but murder? Even I didn’t see that coming.’
‘What are you –?’
‘Bunny Templeton-Crest said you plan to blackmail everyone in the hotel! And we … we even asked you to be our bridesmaid at … our … beautiful Wedding of a Thousand Dreams!’ She marches over to the lawyer and clings to his arm. ‘Now you leave me a widow when I’m only in my twenties!’ She pushes away the lawyer and lunges back at me. Her arms rotate like helicopter blades as she screams, firing dibble from her glossy lips. ‘You killed my Henry!’
‘Henry is my father.’ I wipe her saliva from my cheeks.
Bradshaw raises an eyebrow at me and nods, just enough to let me know he knew.
‘Oh bloody great! This again!’ she splatters out a hateful laugh. ‘Really Sarah! Peleeeease!’ She lets out a wild cackle. ‘Hello? Don’t you think if he had children by other women I would have known? Henry told me everything about his past – we were soul mates – I had someone who loved me and you … you! You don’t even have matching luggage!’ She jabs her finger in the air. ‘And I … I am the next Mrs Hardwick with an estate in Nor … Nors … Northfiham … Bradshaw?’
‘Norfolk, Madam.’
‘North Fuck. But you are a lying –’
‘Come along now, really, come,’ urges the solicitor, taking Yuleka by the shoulders and moving her away. ‘Mrs Hardwick is very tired now. Very emotional. Come along –’
‘Tired? Tired darling? I haven’t even started!’ she wails. ‘I’m gonna fucking kill ‘er!’
‘Mrs Hardwick!’ he sighs, exasperated, before turning on his heels and heading out the door. But she doesn’t follow. She leans forward,
panting, gathering the strength to launch the next attack.
I whisper, ‘Henry was my father. And he said so.’
‘Stop it right there, Fatima Yuleka Fahood!’ Mum stands in the doorway.
Spittle lines Yuleka’s lips making them look like seeping blisters. ‘Yeah and who the fuck are you?’
‘I’m the woman Henry loved for most of his life.’
Yuleka draws in a lungful of air and holds her breath as Mum continues: ‘I am the woman who gave birth to Henry’s lovechild. He would have chosen me over Caroline but my Mr Wombat was a weak, insecure man – but he did love me and he did love his daughter.’
‘Oh, what d’you know about that dirty old man’s ideas of love?’ Yuleka blurts.
‘I know more about you, Fatima Fahood, pole dancer and ex-wife of Pete Marnes – you know Pete? Quite well from what the papers are saying about you. Yes! We all know who you are now.’
‘Bradshaw! Sue this one as well.’
‘You’re not suing anybody. And don’t you ever threaten my daughter again. Get out of Sarah’s room!’
‘Yeah! Yeah. I’m going! With pleasure,’ spits Yuleka. ‘And just so you know, this is the worst honeymoon I have ever had!’ She moves to leave, then stops. ‘But let me tell you one more thing, my dears: I’m Mrs Hardwick now and there’s nothing you or your little mole can do about it! Bradshaw – we’re leaving!’
Her lawyer turns to follow, muttering something that sounds like ‘sorry’.
The door closes and Mum and I look at each other.
‘Did you see her face!’ Mum says as she gives Ferdi a high five. ‘Sarah! Did you?’
‘When she heard the name Pete Marnes!’ said Ferdi. ‘Oh Sarah – you got to read this exposé of her life! The minute Henry’s death was in the papers, it all came out of the woodwork! Are you alright?’
‘Yeah, I’m fine.’ But I was shaken. ‘I’m going to try and get up … give me a hand.’
‘Miss Sarah, the doctor said –’
‘I’ll be OK. I just want to have some fresh air.’
Mum nods. ‘Of course, yes, you should. Oh and, Ferdi signed me up for the women’s volleyball tournament on the beach, so that’s where I’ll be after five.’
2
I walk along the beach and settle on a rock overlooking the sweep of platinum coastline. Even though I still feel fuzzy from the painkillers, I’m preoccupied by the idea that I could have died, and Joseph would never have known how much I loved him. Losing Henry has confirmed how fragile these opportunities to love are, and how synchronicity between two people runs against a stopwatch. The parallels between myself and my dad are clear. We’d both lost those we loved because we’d been too scared to take the risk, whatever the consequences. We’d followed logic and protected ourselves, only to trudge alone through half-lived, half-lives.
On the way back to my room, I stop at the hotel bar. It is Happy Hour and yet not so happy. With the recent death, there is an appropriately mournful air about the place. The bar staff are clad in black, and black orchids dot the tables.
The Templeton-Crest crowd are gathered at a table, their heads locked in a scrum though I can make out Peter’s back. Judging by the build-up of bottles, they have been there for a while. I ask the barman for a rum and coke and then see the group staring at me, not saying a word.
I take a sip of my drink and sit to watch the sunset.
Behind me I hear Susie’s voice, ‘She’s in her nightclothes!’
Another voice, ‘That limp is definitely put on.’
I glance back to see Peter, looking down, writing something on a pad. He is concentrating a little too hard, pretending to be so absorbed in what he is doing that he hasn’t noticed me.
I sit on the terrace, watching the sun dissolve as Venus wafts upward, then I hear the distinct squeak of Roy Templeton-Crest’s wheels behind me.
‘Uh - Hello!’ he says. ‘Miracle you survived ol’ g-g-g-girl!’
‘So they say.’
‘You could’ve ended up like me, in one of these wretched things for the rest of your life,’ he points to his wheel chair. ‘Or like ol’ Henry. Poor sod. Not exactly what one p-p-p-plans on a honeymoon, eh? And apparently things are going to get even worse for her. Old boyfriends are talking to the papers – you read any of it? Whoa! Murrrr-ky! Henry’s boys are due to give their side soon, I doubt she’ll have much public sympathy,’ he smiles kindly.
‘She’ll get what she deserves,’ I mutter.
‘Don’t be too hard on the old b-b-b-b-bird. That afternoon was also a rather horrid one for yours truly – Bunny’d gone AWOL with that friend of yours and the rain and … well, Yuleka comforted me, it was kind of her. She didn’t have to.’
‘Well, I’m cheered to know that everyone has a little bit of goodness in them.’
‘Better see what the old b-b-b-buggers are doing for supper … Oh, must say, your mother’s a bit of a looker, eh? I see where you get it from now, not from him,’ he winks, tapping his nose. ‘Smashing legs. Do put a g-g-g-good word in, would you?’ He looks at my drink and, with an imaginary glass in his hand, toasts me, ‘To you, santé, my dear.’
‘Look after yourself.’
He turns his chair and makes his way through the hotel doors.
3
The red sun lowers itself behind a line of palm trees left rugged by the storm’s assault. I make a silent toast to Henry.
By the time I finish my glass, I hear shoes slapping against the marble floors.
‘Oh Sarah!’ cries Mum hugging me. ‘Oh darling! There’s someone I want you to meet – meet properly, I mean.’ She turns to the man I’d met earlier with Yuleka. ‘This is Mr Bradshaw, Marcus. Marcus is Henry’s solicitor and he knows, he knows everything!’
Mr Bradshaw has discarded his jacket and unbuttoned his shirt. ‘I do apologize for Mrs Hardwick’s intrusion today; it was very uncalled for. Nasty scene. And I’m sorry for your loss. Your mother and I go back a long way – Henry and I worked together when she was a mere slip of a girl – she still is!’ He looks over at her approvingly. ‘I have to leave for London now with,’ he lowers his head and winces, ‘Mrs Hardwick, but I just wanted to wish you a speedy recovery. You’ve spent some time here with Henry over the last week, Sarah, you can only imagine what a tumultuous state his affairs are in, really quite a mess and –’
‘Apparently, Yuleka’s been claiming Sickness Benefit for the last three years while working as a pole dancer – the social security department are after her – and that’s just for starters!’ Mum butts in excitedly.
‘The case that Henry was involved in concerning Yuleka Hardwick, well, it could throw up questions of perjury and some quite serious allegations. There’s much to sort out,’ Bradshaw shakes his head and continues humbly, ‘I shall leave you both and hope that we meet again under happier circumstances. Enjoy your last few days, and get better soon, young lady.’
He turns to Mum, ‘Florence, so wonderful to see you again. We shall be in touch.’ He holds her in his stare until she blushes. ‘Goodbye,’ he says, and leaves the room.
‘Isn’t he a dish? Oh baby, you look terrible. Guess what? My team came second in the Volley Ball – I’ve been chosen to play again tomorrow. And Ferdi has invited me to dinner. I’ll bring you back a doggy bag.’ She squeezes me against her. ‘I am so, so proud of you, darling.’
‘Mum, are you alright, I mean, about Henry –?’
‘I am, my Sarah, I am. Isn’t it strange how years and years can pass and nothing happens and then – suddenly – all the buses come at once!’ She looks up at the first stars. ‘I’m sad, yes, but I’m released. It’s like I was living in a chrysalis and no –’
‘You’re a butterfly?’
‘A red admiral – why not? I realise that Henry wasn’t strong enough to believe in me, Sarah. Don’t make the same mistake with Joseph. Things are going to change for you too darling, I mean it … we’re going to be mother and daughter butterflies! Hum? Have a good n
ight’s rest and see you in the morning.’
‘G’night. Don’t spread those wings too far, Mum!’
‘Cheeky!’ she says, flicking her leg up behind her.
The swimming pool lights come on, changing through all the colours of the rainbow.
4
I doze in front of a film until woken by a tapping against my window. Through heavy eyelids I see Peter peering through my shutters.
I put my dressing gown on and open the door.
He holds a bunch of flowers in his hands.
‘How’s the invalid?’
‘I’m letting you in because I know you’ll pester me all night if I don’t. Not because you’re invited.’
Peter kisses me on the cheek, passes me the flowers, walks straight to my mini-bar where he takes out two miniature whiskies and pours them into a toothbrush mug. I see him look at my indigo-patterned legs. He shuts his eyes and takes large gulps before nodding at the flowers in my arms. ‘Flowers. Always sweeter picked from someone else’s garden, right?’
‘Can you put them in a vase for me?’
‘Sure.’ He puts them on the counter and sighs deeply. ‘What happened when you saw me … and Bunny … on the boat. That was awful.’
‘Peter – I was in the storm for two hours before someone got around to making an emergency call. My father died out there. Your little love tryst,’ I swallow. ‘That means nothing.’
‘I just want to explain.’
‘Save it.’
‘Please. I left you and Henry to give you your moment alone with him, I thought I was helping you.’
He ignores my, ‘huh’.
‘No one thought there’d be a storm like that! How was I to know you weren’t on one of the boats coming back? How was I to know you’d be so stupid as to stay in a cave at a time like that?’
‘Because when you got to the mainland, Henry and I weren’t with you.’
‘You’re right. I know but … yeah, you’re right.’
We both shrug.