by Amy Bratley
‘It’s history,’ he said. ‘Do you really want to go there? Bring it all up?’
‘I need to know,’ I said.
We had veered off the main residential street and up into a side road – still in Holland Park – where we reached a locked wrought-iron gate, beyond which were the immaculate communal gardens of the enormous townhouses, beautifully landscaped into works of art. The tension in the air was unbearable. I had to break it.
‘You’d think they could share their wealth a little,’ I said. ‘Would it really hurt to leave the gardens unlocked, so the local kids could have a play?’
‘Well,’ Ethan replied, ‘if you don’t have a key, break in. Or jump in. Let’s climb over.’
‘What if someone questions us?’ I said warily. ‘They’ll know we don’t live there.’
‘They won’t,’ he said. ‘This is London. No one talks to anyone else, unless they already know each other. Lots of these properties are probably pieds-á-terre for millionaires who are slurping cocktails in the Caribbean right now. If anyone does talk to us, we’ll ask if they’ve got change for a fifty. They’ll think we’re locals and leave us alone.’
He caught my eye and clasped together his hands to make a foot-hold for me.
‘Over you go,’ he said, nodding at his hands and bending towards me. He was trembling and was obviously nervous, which made me feel so much worse, so I tried to lighten the mood.
‘Are you going to drop me over there and just leave me?’ I asked, raising my eyebrows. ‘Because I will scream and—’
‘I won’t,’ he said, as I struggled into the foothold and, after checking the street for passers-by, I straddled the stone wall, pulling up the straps of my jumpsuit, which were loose on my shoulders, jumping down to the other side and landing in the branches of a hydrangea bush with a small scream.
‘What on earth am I doing?’ I muttered, pulling a twig from my hair. ‘Ethan?’
‘I’m off,’ Ethan said from the other side of the wall. ‘See you later.’
‘Very funny,’ I said, looking all around me. Beyond where I was standing was an enormous lawn, which each house, or set of flats, backed onto. A couple of properties had French doors on the ground floor flung wide open so I could see inside their opulent homes. There was opera music playing somewhere, and the sound of robust laughter coming from a group of people sitting round a table in one of the gardens.
‘Come on, then,’ I said to Ethan in a loud whisper. ‘Come over and talk to me.’
‘I’m not coming over unless you answer this question,’ Ethan said, his face poking over the wall, so I could just see his grey-blue eyes.
‘What?’ I said. ‘Come on, Ethan, this is stupid. It’s you who has to answer some questions.’
I stepped away from the hydrangea bush, crunching on dry fallen leaves underfoot. Ethan pushed himself up onto the wall, where he sat, his legs dangling down, his heels rhythmically kicking against the stone.
‘You feel it too, don’t you?’ he said quietly. ‘You feel that there’s something here between us, don’t you? Come on, Eve, say it. You do, don’t you? I want you to admit it before we talk.’
I’d waited for this since Ethan left. I’d waited for him to come back and tell me he still loved me, but now it was happening, I felt completely thrown. My heart raced.
‘I . . .’ I frowned and shook my head. ‘I don’t—’
‘I know you do,’ he said. ‘Admit it, there’s something here between us. You can feel it too, can’t you?’
I bit my lip. Up until this point, I had played safe. I hadn’t crossed that certain line in my head. If I spoke now, I would be taking this, whatever it might be, to another level. I would be stepping over that line.
‘Oh God, Ethan,’ I said. ‘I don’t know! It’s not that simple. You can’t just walk out, then turn up years later and expect everything to be as it was. All I want to know now is what the letter said. Tell me, for fuck’s sake!’ Ethan was gazing at me. He ignored my words. His smile was wry, knowing. He jumped down from the wall.
‘But do you think there’s something there?’ he said. ‘I know I’m not imagining it. You feel it too, don’t you? That’s the important thing.’
I thought, randomly, about Joe’s morning. Most days, I knew what he ate for breakfast, that he didn’t like more than a drop of milk on his cereal, that he had a digestive biscuit and a cup of coffee before anything else, that he spent ages coaxing his hair into shape with my hair wax, but pretended he never used any. He suddenly seemed very far away, almost like he belonged to a different life. And Ethan seemed incredibly close, hyperreal. I could feel his breath on my skin as he stroked my cheek and tilted my chin up so I was facing him.
‘You do, don’t you?’ he said, quietly urgent.
I wanted him to kiss me.
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘But that doesn’t mean . . . I want to know what you wrote—’
‘It means enough,’ Ethan said, interrupting me. He leaned forwards, finding my lips with his, and, standing there by the hydrangea bush, we kissed. It wasn’t the tentative kiss I’d expected. Ethan was bold, firm. Ethan was telling me something with this kiss. His hands were around my waist now, fiddling with the buttons on my jumpsuit. It was all going so fast, my thoughts couldn’t keep up with what was happening. Even though a voice in my head was shouting at me to stop, I carried on kissing him back. It was a release. I thought of nothing. What was he telling me with his kiss?
‘Sorry,’ he said suddenly, pulling away from me and running his hands through his hair. ‘I’m so, so sorry.’
I took a deep breath and rubbed my hands over my face.
‘For leaving?’ I said, tucking my hair behind my ears. ‘Or for this? Because I am too. I should not be doing this, it’s . . . God, I don’t even know what I’m doing here. You lure me away from Joe and—’
‘I didn’t lure you away,’ he said. ‘You came of your own free will.’
The spell now broken, I shivered with cold. I’d done it now. I panicked. Dad had told me Ethan was untrustworthy, that he would break my heart, again. Why was I kissing him? My stomach folded in on itself.
‘Tell me what that letter said,’ I said. ‘Now.’
‘OK’ he said. ‘OK, I’m sorry I left you in such a horrible way. I really, badly fucked up and – shit, I don’t know what to say.’
Ethan was dying. I could see this was close to impossible for him to talk about. Ethan didn’t apologize very often. He hated to admit he was in the wrong.
‘I promised myself I would tell you,’ he said, kicking at loose stones with his shoes. ‘I promised myself if you told me you still loved me, I had to tell you the truth. I had to tell you what was in the letter I sent, the one that your dad read. Then we could start again, on even footing. Then there would be no secrets waiting to jump out of the dark.’
I didn’t like the sound of this. I glanced up the gardens. The people previously sitting out had gone inside and switched out their kitchen light. It must be getting late.
‘Tell me what?’ I said, my voice thin.
‘The reason I left,’ he said, taking a deep breath and then exhaling slowly. ‘I left because I slept with someone else.’
His shoulders drooped in relief for having got it off his chest. He shoved his hands into his pockets and glanced up at me, his expression guilty.
‘Oh,’ I said, too utterly stunned to react, but still – even then – wanting it not to matter, desperate for all this still to mean something, for me not to be throwing away what I had for nothing. ‘Who?’
‘I’ll come to that,’ he said. ‘The point is I felt terrible, I couldn’t cope with what I’d done and so I ran away to Rome like an idiot, and now I’m back I want you to know how I feel about you. I never stopped loving you.’
Ethan looked at me pleadingly. He held on to both my hands, but I shook him off.
‘Who?’ I said.
‘Please,’ he said. ‘That’s not important right now.’
>
‘Yes, it is important,’ I said firmly, my body trembling with dread, because suddenly it did matter. It mattered more than anything else in the world. Faces of girls we knew and didn’t know circled in my thoughts.
‘Who?’
Chapter Nineteen
‘I wrote you that letter,’ Ethan said now, his skin pale and expression deadly serious. ‘I explained everything in there. I asked you to forgive me. When I didn’t hear back from you, I assumed you hated my guts. That’s why I stayed out in Rome. But now, this is fate. I really believe that. There’s no other explanation for meeting again like this. It’s time to stop burying my head in the sand.’
Ethan was shaking now, as he pulled his tobacco from his pocket. I snatched it away from him and threw it on the floor. He looked at me warily.
‘Who?’ I said slowly. ‘Who did you sleep with?’
He looked at the floor and shook his head. His shoulders rounded, he rubbed the back of his neck. From a road nearby came the screech of sirens.
‘It’s bad,’ he said quietly, keeping his eyes on the floor. ‘OK?’
He held my gaze for a few seconds. I felt sick.
‘OK,’ I said in a voice barely more than a whisper, my stomach tightening into knots.
‘I need you to let me explain why it happened,’ he said softly. ‘You might understand if you just let me explain.’
I breathed out, my cheeks puffing out with air. My heart was pounding so hard, blood whooshing in my ears, I felt faint. I stared at Ethan, waiting. Still waiting. Always waiting.
‘Who?’ I said. ‘Who. Did. You. Sleep. With.’
He squeezed his eyes shut. I grabbed his wrist and shook him.
‘Tell me!’ I said.
‘All right, all right,’ he said. ‘Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck. I wish you’d got my letter after I left. Bloody hell, I’m sorry.’
He turned and fixed me in the eye. Cringing, he folded his arms across his chest and wedged his hands under his armpits. All at once, I was reminded of Joe. I sucked in my breath.
‘I can’t believe I did this,’ he said, swallowing quickly. ‘I wake up in the night, sweating about it. It’s pretty much my biggest regret. You have to let me explain, it can all be explained . . .’
My stomach lurched. I stared at him.
‘Daisy,’ he said, quietly.
Daisy. I shook my head in disbelief. My mouth fell open.
‘Daisy?’ I said, my eyes almost popping out of their sockets. ‘As in Daisy, my sister Daisy?’
Ethan nodded sheepishly and cleared his throat. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched me, a grim expression on his face. Taken aback, I blinked. I couldn’t understand. A hideous image of Daisy and Ethan in bed together flashed into my mind. I let out a horrible whimper then slapped my hand over my mouth.
‘Daisy?’ I said again from behind my fingers, beginning to tremble. ‘When?’
‘At that summer party we had, three years ago, literally days before I left,’ Ethan said, the words coming quickly. ‘It was a massive mistake and only happened once, foolishly, because, well, I was out of my head. We’d been drinking all day and, oh God, this sounds bad, but she came on to me and I felt sorry for her.’
I cast my mind back to that party, which Daisy had helped organize. She wore a green silk dress. She looked more beautiful than I’d ever seen her, more beautiful than me by far. She also got drunk and danced, which was rare for Daisy. She didn’t normally drink much. Perhaps she’d been planning the seduction all along? I wondered if I was going to be sick.
‘You slept with my sister because you felt sorry for her?’ I choked. ‘What the fuck? Are you completely mad? What is there to feel sorry about? I don’t believe you, Ethan. Daisy would never do that to me; she’s my sister.’
I started to walk away from Ethan, my legs liquid. He was seriously sick. Thinking about it, just for a second, made me realize Daisy would never, ever do such a thing. She didn’t even like Ethan. Through bleary eyes I looked for the garden gate. I had to get out of there. He was mad. He was sick. Why would he say such a thing? I scrabbled for a reason. Finding the gate, I fiddled with the lock, but it was padlocked. I rattled it stupidly. Ethan stood near me, running his hands through his hair. I turned to face him.
‘You’re crazy,’ I said, my voice shaking. ‘Why would you say such a thing? I need to get out of this garden, away from you . . .’
I looked around, desperately, for a way to get out of the garden. I wanted to scream. I noticed a dustbin close to the wall. I dragged it closer still, then climbed up onto it while it wobbled beneath me. I clung on to the top of the wall, trying and failing not to cry.
‘It’s the truth,’ Ethan said from by my feet. ‘Let me help you.’
Ethan tried to support my leg as I swung myself up onto the wall, but I kicked him away.
‘Don’t touch me,’ I spat, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. ‘Don’t you dare touch me, you liar!’
He held on to my foot and I pulled it away, so he was left holding my sandal.
‘Why would I lie about something so awful?’ he said, his lips quivering. ‘Please. I’m so sorry. Let me tell you what happened. Your shoe?’
‘I don’t want to know,’ I said, sliding down the wall and onto the pavement, tiptoeing on my bare foot. I took off the other sandal and started walking towards the Tube as quickly as I could in bare feet, my heart in my mouth. I heard Ethan jump down from the wall behind me, run to catch me up.
‘Your shoes,’ he said. ‘Put your shoes on. You’ll hurt yourself. There’s probably glass on the floor.’
‘I don’t want them,’ I said forcibly, facing forwards. ‘Go away. Just . . . just . . . leave me alone! You disappeared before, do it again now. Go! Why did you come back? Go!’
Ethan tugged at my arm to try to get me to stop, but I refused to look at him. Then he started talking, his voice low with an edge of anger.
‘It happened that night of the party,’ he said quickly. ‘Can you remember, we had a row about something stupid like how often I went out? Can you remember that Daisy was pretty drunk? I walked her home, just to get some headspace, and she invited me in for a whiskey. When we’d had another drink, she started to cry, telling me that she’d always been secretly in love with me during the whole time she was with Iain. Apparently when she invited me to that winter picnic in Greenwich Park she’d been hoping that something would happen between us, but then I went off with you. I’d had no idea she felt like that.’
I said nothing, too shocked to speak. I told myself: if I keep walking, he’ll go away.
‘She broke down and said it was torture watching us together,’ he said. ‘She said she could’ve made me happy if only I’d let her, if only you didn’t exist. She then started throwing accusations at me, saying I didn’t find her attractive and Iain didn’t and that no one was ever going to love her. She said you had everything, you always got everything you wanted and that no one understood her and that she might as well just kill herself. Then she went into her bedroom and after a few minutes she called me in. I was worried she might be about to overdose or do something mad, she was that upset. I went in to see her and she had taken her clothes off, Eve. She was sitting there, naked and crying her heart out. It killed me, seeing her like that. Daisy has always seemed so strong and capable. She was all broken up. I should have left, but I wanted to comfort her and make her feel better. I hated seeing her so sad. She asked me to hold her, so I did. I held her and told her she was beautiful and that of course she would find someone to love. She said she didn’t want anyone else and that she wanted me. So I stupidly said, if it had all been different, etcetera, perhaps she and I would have got together. I said it just to make her feel better. But she took me on my word, because she started kissing me and, I don’t know, I knew it was the biggest mistake in the world, but I didn’t know what else to do. To reject her again felt too cruel. Iain, then me, you know? I justified it to myself as a few minutes of my life that would ma
ke Daisy feel better about herself.’
My eyes were bleary with tears. I tasted salt on my lips.
‘And what about me?’ I said. ‘Where do I come into this? Did it not occur to you for one second that I might not be too happy about your grand act of charity? Your screwed-up fucking benevolence? I mean, Christ, Ethan, you can’t actually think that’s an excuse for screwing my sister? Why couldn’t you have just hugged her and given her a therapist’s number?’
He shrugged hopelessly.
‘I was so involved in the moment that nothing occurred to me other than how I could get Daisy to stop crying,’ he said. ‘I didn’t think properly. It was all so intense and emotional. I know it seems ludicrous, but I can’t bear to see anyone in such a state. I felt sorry for her and guilty that it was me, me and you, making her feel so bad.’
I let out a strangled laugh in disbelief.
‘You expect me to believe that?’ I said. ‘That is complete and utter bollocks. You fancied a fuck and you got one, then you dress it up with all this “I felt sorry for her” crap. Saint Ethan saves the day. Great. How long did this go on for? Were you having flings behind my back from the beginning? Anyone else you felt sorry for while we were together, apart from my . . . my . . . sister! Nice choice, Ethan.’
He shook his head wearily.
‘I’m not making out I’m a saint,’ he said. ‘It might sound like a stupid story to you, but it’s not. I made a mistake, I admit that, but it was complicated. Daisy was so unhappy, so vulnerable and it was all my fault—’
‘I can’t believe you,’ I said, almost laughing. ‘Couldn’t you have just perhaps talked to Daisy, or made her a cup of sodding tea or something?’
Ethan put his hands on his face and growled. A taxi pulled in further up the road. I lifted my hand to hail the cab, but it drove off without noticing me.
‘Shit,’ I said. ‘I want to go home.’
‘But life isn’t always black and white, is it?’ he said. ‘You have to allow for grey areas.’
‘I’m not interested in grey areas,’ I said. ‘You’ve just blown my world apart. Could you just leave me alone? God, why did you even tell me? What good can come out of telling me? Now everything is ruined. Joe is pissed off with me, Daisy has betrayed me and you are the biggest wanker that graced the earth . . .’