by June Taylor
‘I don’t know. Solitary? Or maybe, like, private?’
‘Esatto. If ever you need to escape.’
‘Now?’ She felt the blood rush to her cheeks again. ‘Point me in the right direction I mean.’
‘Andiamo. I just need to—’ The words eluded him. She watched him lead French Fry away to the far end of the field then jog back. ‘Oh, but still, your shoes,’ he said, staring at her flip-flops.
‘I’ll be okay to walk in them.’
He set off at a brisk pace. She was cursing her choice of footwear, picking her way across the field trying to keep up. After a while he saw that she was struggling and waited for her. But this became the pattern. Until, suddenly, he pulled down on her hands, forcing her to sit. They had reached a grassy, secluded area with plenty of shade.
‘Where’s the lake?’ she asked.
‘We are not there yet.’
‘Oh.’
She sat cross-legged, fanning herself, racking her brain for something to say. ‘How do you manage to work in this heat, Nico?’
He gave her a sideways glance, pulling up a long strand of grass and chewing the end of it.
She tried again. ‘So erm, do you always work here?’
He began to study her, which put her even more on edge. ‘No. I also manage a bar in Florence with a friend,’ he said, in his own time.
‘Really? A bar in Florence.’ That set her off wondering if the friend was just a friend, or something more.
‘He does most of the work; we own it together.’
‘Oh wow. So is he your …?’
Nico gave a short laugh. ‘I like girls, if that is what you are asking.’
Eloise turned bright red and quickly tried to steer the conversation onto safer ground.
‘And erm … Marianna, is she your mother?’
‘Sì.’
‘She’s nice.’
Nico continued to stare at her, chewing on the blade of grass. Eloise couldn’t quite put her finger on it. There was a sullenness about him. Maybe it was the language thing. ‘Your English is very good,’ she said lamely.
He shrugged, then stood up abruptly, offering his hand. She brushed down the back of her shorts as he pulled her to her feet. ‘We should go back,’ he said. ‘Your shoes are very—’
‘No! They’re fine. Honestly.’ It was the heat that bothered her more in any case, and that didn’t matter either.
They set off again. Nico was soon ahead.
‘Ouch!’ she yelled, suddenly feeling her ankle twist.
He was quick to react, running back and guiding her over to a rock. ‘Here, sit down, Eloise.’
She winced when he took hold of her leg. ‘I went over on a stone.’
‘I think you twist it. Does that hurt?’
‘Yes. A little bit. Ooch.’
‘Would you like me to – wait a minute, in English – carry you? We should go back, I think.’
‘No, it’s okay. I mean, I think we should go back but I’ll manage.’
He scooped her up. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Whooh,’ she yelped, putting her arms around his neck.
He seemed in a terrible hurry, and never once looked at her, so in the end she found it a humiliating experience, and as soon as they got within sight of their villa she asked to be set down. If her mother saw them like this, Eloise would face interrogation.
‘Qui? Here?’ he asked, sounding irritated.
Eloise nodded, trying not to show her disappointment. ‘I can walk the rest.’
‘You need to put on some ice,’ he replied, pointing to her foot.
‘I’ll do that. Thanks.’
‘The lake is only a little bit – erm, not far. I am sure you will find it.’
‘Thanks anyway.’
The moment she pressed down on her ankle she felt a sharp pain but was so desperate for a quick exit, she didn’t let on.
‘I’ll take you there tomorrow if you like, Eloise. By scooter. You know, Vespa? Here, take this.’
He handed her a card. She read the words ‘Dream Tuscany’.
‘You message me tomorrow. In the morning,’ he shouted, running off in the direction of the horses.
***
Juliet was still out exploring when she got back, and Chrissy was taking a siesta indoors. She took an ice pack out of the freezer, wrapping a tea towel around it.
‘Are you awake, Mum? Can I come in?’ she said, gently tapping on her door.
‘Of course.’
Chrissy spotted the ice pack right away.
‘What’s that for?’
‘My ankle. It’s fine, don’t worry. Just a mild sprain.’ Eloise stretched out on the bed like a starfish, losing herself in her daydream. ‘I went over in my flip-flops. It’s really nothing.’
She still insisted on taking a look, but seemed satisfied it wasn’t anything serious and placed the ice pack carefully under her ankle. Chrissy plopped back down beside her and, after a few seconds silence, came out with: ‘Telling your father was the hardest thing I ever had to do.’
‘Pardon?’ said Eloise.
Chrissy’s eyes were glassy and she was staring off into the distance. Eloise’s throat was dry and her ankle throbbed; for once she wasn’t in the mood. But her mother carried on talking, and Eloise owed it to her to listen.
CHAPTER 28
Manchester & Bristol: summer, 1989
‘So come on then, how was France?’
Chrissy shrugged, choked by the anguish of what she knew she had to tell him.
‘That good, eh?’ said Dan, making her sit down. They were alone now, everyone else was out.
This was the time.
Chrissy burst into tears; she couldn’t help it.
‘Hey, what’s up? Did something happen?’
She nodded, faintly. Contemplating where on earth to begin. Dan had to know what he was taking on; he deserved that at least. A pattern of behaviour soon set in. She would sob, hyperventilate, spend hours just staring at the floor then fall asleep. Her parents thought she had some kind of bug. A foreign bug. She looked well enough; the suntan gave her a healthy glow. She had lost weight, but with some good home cooking inside her she would soon put it back on. They didn’t press her about the trip either. Chrissy said it had gone well, they found jobs, made friends, her French improved. Her parents didn’t need to know that their daughter had come home a killer.
She was learning to live the lie.
‘You think I should go to the police, don’t you?’
By the end of the second day, Dan knew everything.
‘I don’t know, Chrissy. I just don’t know.’
Her fingernails were so badly chewed they were starting to bleed. ‘I think that too. Sometimes. So maybe I should. Look, Dan, if you decide to bail out on me I totally understand. I’m not sure I could …’
‘Listen,’ he said, holding her firmly by the shoulders. ‘We don’t have to rush this. If you turn yourself in today or in six months it’s not going to make much difference. You said yourself there’s no evidence in your favour. You’d just be confessing to murder basically. It’d be up to a jury to believe you. Or not.’ He tailed off at the end.
‘What the fuck is happening to us, Dan?’ She sobbed into his chest. But the only face she could see was his and she pulled away again.
‘No. Fuck you.’
Arsehole.
***
The start of term was drawing near. Since she had been back she hadn’t picked up a single book or felt the slightest interest in what she would be studying in her second year. Even Sartre and Camus could not inspire her. In fact, all that existential stuff only made things worse. Why had she killed him? What was her motivation? Did she do it out of hate for him or love of Juliet? If only she could become en-soi, like a bird or a tree or a pen and be totally without consciousness, then things would be simpler.
Dan was being supportive, as best he could, but it had come close to tearing them apart. At least now, with some gent
le coaxing, she was allowing him to get close. He taught her to trust him again with her body, lying naked together for hours. Their lovemaking had changed, sometimes slower and more intense, but often there was a reckless sense of urgency, as though it could well be their last time.
Juliet was in her thoughts. She missed her but was terrified of seeing her again. Their friendship could never be like it was; Chrissy had worked that out when they were still in the motel room. And Bristol would never be the same either. Her degree was trivial and pointless, a million miles from the person she was now.
Maybe she would feel differently when she went back.
She didn’t.
‘At least go to one lecture, Chrissy,’ Juliet tried to coax her. She laughed at the irony. ‘This doesn’t feel right, me telling you.’
Chrissy would only shake her head, or say: ‘I can’t.’
‘But it’s been nearly four weeks. They’ll kick you off the course. Maybe you could get some time off sick, if you actually go and see someone, tell someone. I don’t mean tell … well, you know what I mean. Tell them you’re ill. There must be some special dispensation. There was that lad in the first year who went off the rails and he came back.’
‘And committed suicide,’ Chrissy reminded her.
‘Hm, bad example.’
‘I’m not going to do that.’
‘’Course you’re bloody not. Look, this will pass, Chrissy, I know it will. I feel exactly the same. The whole nightmare keeps playing out every time I shut my eyes. But I won’t let it beat me. I won’t let him beat me. And nor should you. Don’t let him.’
‘It’s not the same though. It’s really not the same.’
‘Yes, it is.’
‘No. No, Ju. I killed him, not you.’
She wished they had never stepped into his car. She wished they had never gone to France. She wished she had gone to a different university, never set foot in Bristol. But, most of all, and no matter how much she tried to push it out of her head, she wished she had never clapped eyes on Juliet.
The temptation was to drink herself into a twenty-four-hour oblivion. That was impossible because she had to stay alert at all times. Juliet, on the other hand, was not so disciplined, and Chrissy worried about her drunkenness and what she might say. As time went on she realized this was not really an issue. It became apparent that Juliet’s way of dealing with their ordeal was to put it out of her mind altogether, as though it never happened. Something which made Chrissy feel both relieved and envious about in equal measure.
On those rare occasions when Chrissy did leave the house she knew she had to remain vigilant. Who was that man? Why was he following her? Was he still following her? And why did people want to know what she had done over the summer? Why did they keep asking if there was something wrong?
Trust no one. Keep your mouth shut. Distance yourself from everyone, except Dan and Juliet.
‘You’re punishing yourself too much,’ said Juliet. ‘We’re going to have a party. I’m going to invite Dan, maybe get his band to play. What do you think?’
‘I think no.’
Dan did come down that weekend, but without the band. He took Chrissy out for a curry instead, to get her out of the house.
‘Chrissy, come and dance,’ Juliet called when they got back. The party was in full flow, some of the old crowd were there, and a new lot from Juliet’s fashion course. Juliet had put The Smiths on specially.
‘I’m going up, Dan. You can stay if you want to.’ She was already halfway upstairs.
Dan came up later. Chrissy was almost asleep. He started nuzzling her, hungry for sex, and she felt that she couldn’t deny him. Afterwards, though, he noticed she was crying. ‘Hey, what’s up? What did I do? Tell me.’
‘No, it’s not you, Dan. I can’t live with this for the rest of my life. I’ve made up my mind to go to the police.’
He was nodding, trying to take in what she was saying. ‘They could put you away for a long time, you do realize that?’
‘It’s okay, I don’t expect you to wait for me.’
‘I’ll support you, whatever you decide.’
She smiled at him, knowing that would be the end.
***
Chrissy squinted up at the sky. She couldn’t have chosen a nicer day. Bright sunshine, blue sky, thin clouds breaking across it. Dan was meeting her at eleven. They would drink a coffee together and then he would go with her to the police station. At least that was the plan.
But that couldn’t happen now.
Coffee slopped over the sides as Dan set the mugs down on the table, scraping his chair nearer to sit opposite her.
‘I keep thinking I’m going to wake up from this nightmare,’ he said. ‘And I don’t.’
Chrissy sat on her hands to stop them from shaking. She had tremors in both legs too. Dan may not want her to go to the police, but he agreed it was the right thing to do. What would he say now she had changed her mind?
‘I don’t think I can do it, Dan. Despite what I said.’
He was looking at her in turmoil. She knew this was destroying him
‘Okay,’ he replied, rubbing his face. He was trying to sound patient. ‘Well, maybe you just need more time. We can wait a few more days.’
‘No. I can’t ever do it. Not ever. I’m pregnant.’
He looked at her in bewilderment, waiting to be told it wasn’t true. When that didn’t come, he put his head in his hands grabbing at thick clumps of hair. ‘Fuck me,’ he said, banging the table repeatedly with his fist. ‘Fuck me!’
‘Well, yeah,’ she said, trying to calm him. ‘I guess we’ve been a bit careless.’ She wanted to say since France but couldn’t bring herself to. It was too painful to reflect on how much her life had changed. ‘I want to go through with it, Dan. I need to. I’m not going to the police and I’m going to come home, back to Manchester. Maybe not just yet. I haven’t told Mum and Dad. But honestly, I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this. You have your music and all the stuff you want to do.’
He sat up straight, still contemplating her.
‘Please. Say something,’ she said.
Dan blew air out of his cheeks. ‘Are you sure?’
‘I had it confirmed at the doctor’s. It’s for real, Dan. This is happening to us.’
He stood up, placed his hands on the wall, leaning his body into it. Someone needed to get past with a tray so he sat down again.
‘Look, I’ll understand, whatever you decide. But no one knows, okay? Not even Juliet. I need to start again and she can’t ever find me.’
Dan placed his hands over hers, like he had suddenly found a solution. ‘No one’s forcing you to do this either, Chrissy. You can change your mind.’
‘No. No. That’s not an option.’ He pulled his hands away again, sat back in his chair. ‘You don’t have to decide now. But that’s my final decision, Dan. I mean, just so you know.’
She held onto his gaze. She knew what was coming next.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I’m really sorry, Chrissy.’
***
The next day she thought Dan had already left Bristol and gone back to Manchester. His things had been removed from her room, razor, toothbrush, a few spare clothes. They had all gone. But then, in the afternoon, she heard Juliet talking to someone downstairs, followed by footsteps on the floorboards leading to her room.
‘Can I come in?’
He looked terrible.
‘Did you forget something?’ she asked when he didn’t say anything.
He shook his head, running his fingers through his hair, staring at her in that intense way.
‘Well, do you want to—’
‘I can’t do this, Chrissy.’
‘No. No, you said. I understand.’ Her voice was tight with hurt.
‘No, I mean – I can’t lose you, I can’t. I’m scared shitless but … I love you. Fuck’s sake.’
He held her to his chest, but where there should have been happiness or
relief, Chrissy just felt something break inside her. The tears streamed down her face as she contemplated their future. Where would they get the money; where would they live?
And when she closed her eyes, she still saw the face of the man she had killed.
CHAPTER 29
Tuscany: 2007
‘So I was the reason you chucked it all in then,’ said Eloise, her voice flat. She was running through all the implications in her mind. ‘You always said it wasn’t, but it was. I screwed up your life. And my dad’s.’
She flung the ice pack onto the floor. Chrissy held onto her arm as she tried to escape.
‘No, Eloise. Wait, no, please don’t run off. I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant – I was going to quit uni anyway. I was going to hand myself in, for Christ’s sake. Instead, I had you, and you became the most important thing in my world. That, and being with your dad. You saved me.’
‘But you always said I came along after you went back home. It’s not true though, is it?’
‘Well, you did. I admit it was a little sooner than we might have planned it. But you and Dan were all I wanted and nothing else mattered to me. I couldn’t just go on with life as it had been. You were very special, Eloise. Always. To me and your dad. You are very special.’
‘But you just said Dad wasn’t sure.’
Chrissy looked uncomfortable. Eloise was struck by the notion that, for a minute, Chrissy had forgotten to whom she was telling her story. The floodgates were well and truly open.
‘I’m sorry, sweetheart. It was a big decision for both of us. He was sure once he got his head round it. We were just so young.’
Eloise stiffened in her mother’s arms, resisting her embrace. A loud knocking suddenly returned them to the present. They had lost all sense of where they were.
‘Only moi. Anybody home?’
It was Juliet.
Eloise managed to free herself, pulling away sharply.
‘I’ve found us a lovely restaurant for tonight,’ Juliet shouted. They could hear her heels clicking on the tiles. ‘Booked a table for eight o’clock.’