‘He wouldn’t have taken her,’ he bit out.
She tilted her head to the side, as if remembering a conversation she’d had. ‘I’m pretty sure that was the plan.’
‘Andrew wasn’t going to keep her around for long.’ He slapped a palm down on the table with a slight thud, a signal that the conversation was over, and it was time for other business to start.
Selina leaned forward. ‘He was going to do more than keep her around.’
He looked at her again, angry and annoyed. If he were a cat, he’d be twitching his tail, but Lewis was more lizard than feline, and right now, his eyes were half-closed in reptilian assessment.
‘Andrew was going to marry nonna,’ she confided.
Lewis let out an outraged snort. ‘He wasn’t going to marry that little slut.’
Little slut! She tamped down her reaction. ‘Yes, he was,’ she said calmly. ‘They were in love.’
‘She was a maid, for God’s sake. A maid. One of many that Andrew carried on with, if you must know. He always had one on the go, and she was merely the last in a long line.’
‘No,’ she disagreed slowly and with good humour, shaking her head for good measure. ‘That’s not true. Maria was the first girl he kissed.’
‘Did she tell you that?’ he said with a nasty smile. ‘I suppose that’s what Andrew told her.’
She shook her head again. ‘No. It wasn’t nonna who told me.’ And smiled.
Lewis looked at her through hooded lids, but he didn’t query her statement.
Lewis was a lot of things but stupid wasn’t one of them—he must know what she was implying, but he didn’t challenge her.
Did part of him believe already?
‘Something’s changed, since I came back here. You feel it too, right?’
He glanced at his watch. ‘Five minutes until the meeting starts. What was it you wanted to tell me? Please make it specific. No more of this nonsense.’
She could feel the simmer starting to bubble up inside. Internalised at this stage, but rage like that was going to have to go somewhere.
‘There’s something I haven’t told you about that night.’ This was her big reveal, her chance to do some serious damage. ‘Andrew gave her the ring. He took it up to her room and gave it to her before you found him downstairs. It was an engagement present. She was the one who threw it down the dumb waiter shaft.’
‘That’s what you had to tell me?’ he spat out at last. ‘Don’t you think I’d already guessed as much?’
Maybe he had, but having it stated boldly in front of him, having someone else know, was still upsetting him. She pressed, rubbing salt into the wound. ‘They were going to run away, just the two of them, to the Gold Coast. They had no plans to take you.’ She put her hands on the tabletop, examined them. ‘But Andrew changed his plans. He wasn’t going to go to Surfers Paradise anymore. Not after you found his postcards.’
His face bleached, his eyes grew wide. ‘How do you know about the postcards?’ he asked hesitantly.
‘You know how,’ she replied calmly. ‘You’ve always known. You’ve always known it wasn’t over. He’s still here. Waiting for me to come back and set him free.’
The building heaviness to his breath, the tension in his jaw, the way his fingers now splayed stark against the tablecloth … he was working hard to maintain control. ‘I don’t believe your presence is required here today after all,’ he said.
As in, she should leave? Not a chance. ‘Do you believe in ghosts, Lewis?’
He didn’t answer, but his face twisted.
‘You were right, Lewis. You always knew. Finding the jewellery again was the key. When the ring turned up, Andrew visited nonna. In her dreams. Whispering things to her. Sending me back here.’ It was true, in a way. In a way, Andrew’s ghost had set this whole week in motion. She leaned forward, looked Lewis dead in the eyes. ‘And since I arrived at the Empire, he’s been talking to me. Whispering in my ear. He told me about the postcards, told me he never had any intention of working in the hotel business. He just wanted to get away from here. Away from you. When you found the postcards, when you discovered his secret plans, he knew he’d have to change his. He’d decided on Fiji instead.’
‘Andrew told you that, did he?’ The words were supposed to indicate scepticism, but his tone of voice, the expression on his face was anything but. He might not want to, but he believed her.
‘That’s right.’
‘What rot. Your grandmother—he must have told her.’
‘No. Andrew didn’t tell her much of anything. She wouldn’t have understood even if he had. You’ve felt it, Lewis. You know it’s true. I can’t explain it, but since the day I arrived here, something in me has woken.’ She leaned forward. ‘I think it’s you, Lewis, who woke him. I think it’s you looking at me and seeing him.’
He was caught, totally caught.
‘You want to see him again, don’t you? I can show him to you.’ She leaned in. ‘Look at me, Lewis. Can you see him? He wants you to see him.’ She tilted her chin up, as if she were receiving a spirit fully into herself. ‘He’s saying, remember the jam tarts?’
He took in a sharp breath. She opened her eyes and looked straight at him. His eyes were wide and wet.
‘He’s remembering how it was when you were young. Six, was it?’
Lewis was starting to feel the pressure now. Sitting high in his seat, struggling to get enough breath in. Fingers retracting into claw-like shapes, tablecloth gathering under them. He was on the edge of losing it, and she had to act fast. It was now or never. She had to become Andrew.
‘He wants to ask you something.’
She looked down for a moment, gathering herself. Staring at her own hands resting against the edge of the table, she started to feel dizzy at the crazy enormity of what she was about to attempt. The blood rushed to her head, making the top of her head tingle.
I can see him in you.
Lewis would see Andrew, because Andrew was all he ever saw. All he knew and all he loved. She let go. Then … that flutter again … Raising her head, she let her eyes find Lewis. ‘Why’d you do it, Lew?’
Lewis drew back, skin pale, eyes wide, face contorted, as if she really were a ghoulish apparition looming. His expression, fixed on her and beyond her, was somewhere between terror and awe. He shook his head slightly, as if to clear it.
‘Why’d you do it, Lew?’ she pressed. She let the knowledge of what he’d done that night linger in her expression.
‘I … I …’ He was still shaking his head, his face twisting and transforming like a re-animated corpse, peering at her from a strange angle, like he wanted nothing more than to look away, but he couldn’t bring himself to tear his gaze from her.
‘You shot me. You killed me.’
‘Sandy!’ A strange beseeching wail, not human. ‘I didn’t mean to,’ he added in a quiet whine.
She half-stood, leaned forward, needing now more than ever to be all he saw. She’d been where he was now, knew that with the window behind her, the light would partially obscure her face. She used it, used the looming that had thrown him off the other day. ‘Why’d you shoot me, Lew?’
‘You were going to leave me!’ An outburst, full of righteous indignation, like a five year-old totally convinced of the rationality of their argument. It was loud, and the men at the bar finally noticed something was not right. They rose from their stools, started lumbering over. It was going to be too late.
‘You shot me. You shot me dead.’
‘I didn’t want to do it, Sandy. I had to. I had to. I couldn’t let you leave. I had to keep you with me.’ He was wheedling, his voice whining, like a dog who’d been kicked but couldn’t help returning to his master, tail between legs, begging for forgiveness. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he beseeched his dead brother. ‘When I realised what you were planning to do … You were making a mistake. Can’t you see that? It was always the two of us. We were supposed to be together. Tell me you understand.’
His voice cracked. ‘Tell me you forgive me.’
She came back to herself.
That was enough. She’d done it.
She slumped back in her seat, rubbery with fatigue. If she really had channelled Andrew, he’d left her now, an empty husk. Eyes on Lewis, still half-dazed, she watched as he became aware of his surroundings, of the noise and movement in the room as the police officers entered, as he realised what had just happened. They surrounded the table, talking probably, but she couldn’t focus enough to make out their words.
Lewis didn’t fight. He stood as instructed, allowed the police to cuff him. She suspected he didn’t really see them. How could he, when his eyes never left her?
Then finally, it was done and he was being tugged from the room. He seemed so docile, the police weren’t using much force. At the last minute, he turned, and yanked himself out of their arms. He was in her space in an instant.
‘I was so hoping you wouldn’t disappoint me,’ he said, icy calm and vicious.
He was pulled away again, almost instantaneously, but it was too late. She’d heard his words, his intent, with a dreadful knife-keen clarity, and it sent a chill down her spine. A slow-travelling cold sensation, like that ghost they’d been talking about was holding an ice cube against each and every vertebrae.
He was led away, past her, but the cold dread didn’t leave with him.
A hand on her shoulder, a presence by her side, wrapping her and filling her with warmth, drawing her against him and back to the real world. Jack.
***
Deep claws had been raking out Jack’s insides all day. When Selina had been alone with Lewis, and he’d been stuck outside … Waiting, unable to see, only hear, while Selina circled closer and closer to the beast, never knowing if or when he was going to swipe out and slash her. It had been excruciating.
Once she’d got him to confess, Jack had been through the door, trailing just behind the police. He’d wanted her, needed to be close. When he saw Lewis go for her, it had been like a knife to the heart. Hands bound, Lewis hadn’t been able to do much, but whatever he’d said had been enough to shake Selina up.
He’d been led from the room and out of their lives. Even then, it wasn’t over. Selina had been debriefed, made her statement. They’d driven to Maribyrnong, picked up nonna and delivered her to the station to make a statement of her own, then driven her home again.
He’d been by Selina’s side the whole time, unable to leave her alone. A hand at her elbow, a shoulder nudging hers, anything just to touch her and reassure himself that she was still with him.
And now finally, the day was done.
He accompanied her to her room at the hotel, where she was supposed to be collecting her belongings, but the second they were inside, he had her backed up against her door and was kissing the very breath from her.
He drew back a moment, panting heavily, hands cupping her face. ‘I don’t want to lose you.’ They’d had a victory today, but he hadn’t been able to relax. Not yet. Somehow it didn’t feel over.
She placed her hands over the tops of his. ‘You didn’t. You’re not going to. Everything went exactly to plan. We won.’
He rested his forehead against hers. What she’d said wasn’t enough. He wanted more. He needed more. But what did he expect? Vows of undying love?
He should be happy. Like Selina said, they’d achieved something good today. And he was so relieved it wasn’t funny that they’d got their confession, but his edginess hadn’t diminished. Maybe it had nothing to do with Lewis. Because that was finished now, and he wasn’t sure what was left for Selina and him.
It felt like things were coming to an end. At the very least, their week was up.
He didn’t want their time to be up. He set to kissing her again, slower now. Seducing her all over again. Soon, it wasn’t enough. He lifted her, and she obliged by curling her legs around his waist and gripping tight.
‘Doesn’t that hurt?’ she asked, kissing his face all over as he carried her to the bed.
‘Don’t care.’ So he still had some bruising. Some things were worth the pain.
‘Jack,’ she laughed softly.
He lay her on the bed and pulled her towards him, pushed the short, tight skirt, already riding high, up to bunch at her waist. Hands on her knees, he pushed her legs up, spread them wide and stepped in close.
Beautiful. She was so beautiful to him.
He reached a hand to stroke over the lace of her panties. Her breathing sped up gratifyingly and her hips tilted up slightly. From this angle, he could see just a hint of green through long, lush lashes. ‘I don’t want to lose you,’ he said again.
She gave a shaky laugh. ‘What are you trying to do? Sex me into staying?’
He paused a moment. Smiled. ‘Would that work?’
When she didn’t answer, he slipped his fingers under the edge of her panties. Watched as her small even teeth bit into her lush plum bottom lip.
‘Would it?’ he asked again.
She still didn’t answer. Stubborn? Or maybe she’d discovered how to relax and enjoy. He applied more pressure and she let out a soft cry. ‘God yes!’
When he drew back to lose his clothing, she sat up, grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him down with her. He only just managed to break his fall and prevent himself from crushing her.
Faces close, their breath mingling, she whispered. ‘What if I don’t want to lose you either?’
He’d be a very, very happy man.
He was going to ask her if she were going to do some sexing too, to get him to stay, but all of a sudden, he’d had enough of the games. He couldn’t wait a second longer. He yanked her underwear down and off. Unbuckled his own jeans, didn’t bother with taking his clothes off, and slipped on a condom.
He paused on the brink, made sure she was with him, then pushed himself inside. She moaned, her head dropping back. He felt it too, the intense pleasure, but this wasn’t just about pleasure. It was about need and possession and life, because fuck it, he really could have lost her today. Hands on her hips, holding her to him, he drove into her, hard and fast and raw, sex that proved they were alive. The force of his thrusts shifted her up the bed, and she planted her hands upside-down beside her head, helping him keep her in place.
God, he loved her like this, desperate as he was, hips pushing up to meet him, head flung back, breathing in high-pitched hitches.
He wasn’t going to last much longer. She cried out first, fracturing around him, and he shuddered into her, and collapsed.
Minutes passed. He didn’t move, just lay, covering her with his body.
Eventually, he was functional enough to realise he was probably smothering her. He should move. Unwillingly, he went to shift off, but she made a noise of protest, and clamped him closer with her arms and legs. Grateful, he kissed her deep.
‘Come dancing with me?’ he asked, when he could speak.
She laughed quietly, held him tighter. ‘With a busted up rib and after everything that’s happened today, you want to go dancing? Are you feeling alright?’
‘More than alright. Let’s go dancing.’ Because dancing, like sex, was life. And if ever there was a night they deserved to forget everything and make like Fred and Ginger, it was tonight. ‘The conference dinner-dance is just about to begin.’
She laughed even harder. ‘We can’t go to the conference dinner. In case you haven’t worked it out yet, I’m not really a PhD student.’
‘No one’s going to care. It’s Friday night. We’ll get dressed up. We’ll go dancing.’
She looked back at him, far from convinced.
‘I can do a mean quick-step.’
‘Jack, you can hardly walk.’
He pushed off the bed, and attempted a little quick-step. ‘Come on, Selina, live a little. Let’s end this right.’
‘End it?’ she asked slowly. ‘What happened to all that “I don’t want to lose you” stuff?’
He gave her a hard look. ‘You kn
ow what I mean. This crazy week looking for a necklace that doesn’t want to be found in this decrepit hotel with your psychotic fucking uncle.’
He’d gone and done it. He’d brought up the white elephant in the room, and it was still there between them. He wished he hadn’t mentioned the necklace, but it was too late now. He’d set the cogs in that gorgeous head turning. Remembering all the issues they still hadn’t dealt with.
Lying on her side, she looked down and traced a little circle on the mattress. ‘What does come next, Jack? For us.’ Slow quiet words, a hesitancy that was rarely there.
‘Next we go dancing,’ he said, attempting a blithe he didn’t feel.
From the small twist of her mouth, the way she avoided his eyes, he knew his answer had disappointed her. It was a massive step back from where they’d been only minutes ago. From when he’d been desperate to hold on to her, to never lose her. And God knows, he still didn’t want that, but it wasn’t just up to him, was it? Like he’d said before, they couldn’t have a future until she could look him in the eye and tell him she wouldn’t go for the necklace.
He was crazy about Selina, a big part of him was already hoping for forever, but until she could do that, while there was still an unclaimed sapphire necklace lying between them, there was nothing he could say. Soon, the Empire would be blasted to high heaven, and hopefully, the necklace with it. After that, maybe everything would be different.
Until then … Well, they could dance.
He performed another little shuffle.
Her mouth quirked up reluctantly.
He stopped, hands on hips. ‘What else would you be doing tonight?’
‘Looking for the necklace? Is that what you want me to say?’ she replied harshly. ‘I have no idea where it is,’ she added more softly. ‘You?’
‘No.’ He didn’t want to know. The Petrovskys had been doing very well for themselves without the necklace for fifty years. He hadn’t found it, and he’d spent most of his week concentrating on other things entirely, so he wouldn’t charge them. Simple as that. ‘I’m not looking if you’re not.’
She knew what he was asking, and she gave him half an answer. ‘It’s moot, Jack. I don’t have a clue where it is.’
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