Losing Juliet: A gripping psychological drama with twists you won’t see coming

by June Taylor

  Dan did.

  ‘Just get the phone,’ she yelled at him when she saw him coming over, drawing attention to it even more.

  It was no one important. Just someone from the band asking what time they could pop round. Dan came back, armed with kitchen roll and cloths. ‘I knew you’d sit in it,’ he said to Chrissy, but really it was for everyone else to hear. ‘I knocked my beer over on that chair. Look at you, you’re soaking.’

  He made her stand up. She couldn’t just sit there until everyone had gone home. There was a puddle on the carpet at her feet. ‘I’ll go change,’ she said.

  Chrissy dashed upstairs and threw herself onto the bed. When would this stop? She couldn’t even cry. There were no more tears left inside her. She stood up, opened the wardrobe and shut herself inside. She had taken to doing this lately, burying her face in the purple raincoat that Juliet had given her in exchange for writing the essay that time. She could still smell her best friend. Juliet had not even known that she was pregnant when she left Bristol. She still wouldn’t have any idea. Nor about their getting married. It was only a very small wedding but a best friend should have been there. Juliet should have been present when Eloise was born too. And today, on her first birthday, she really ought to be at this stupid party. If Juliet had been here it wouldn’t have been a stupid party.

  But it was all so screwed.

  Whenever she drank a cup of coffee she would think of the two of them sitting in Gianni’s; even smile at the thought of Juliet’s lateness. Come the weekend, she would wonder whether Juliet was out partying, and who with. It was the little things, the unexpected triggers. A jar of Marmite on the supermarket shelf could send her to pieces. And she could never pass a second-hand shop without rummaging for a dress or a top that Juliet could turn into something really special.

  That life was long gone. Even though Juliet was still living it.

  Chrissy gathered up the purple raincoat, plus all the other clothes she had given her, and put them into a bin liner. Oxfam would be very grateful for them.

  ‘What are you doing?’ said Dan.

  ‘This way we both forget her.’

  ***

  ‘I want you to make an appointment to see the doctor,’ said Dan, once their guests had all gone home.

  They had discussed this before, but Chrissy was not in favour. ‘You know I can’t.’

  ‘Well, I know you can’t tell him what happened, but just say you’re a bit down after having your first baby and he’ll give you something. I’ll come with you.’

  ‘Unless he can remove my fucking conscience it’s a waste of time,’ she yelled, kicking the wardrobe door.

  ‘Look at me,’ Dan said. ‘I said, look at me, Chrissy.’ He sounded stern. Dan rarely sounded stern. Then he threw his arms in the air like he was giving up on her.

  She buried her head in the pillow. ‘I’m sorry. Forgive me. I’m just so fucking sorry.’

  ‘You can’t go on like this. We can’t go on like this. Don’t let him do this to you, Chrissy. Don’t let him destroy you.’ Dan’s voice was shaky now. ‘Because if you do …’ – the pause frightened her – ‘he will destroy me as well. And our daughter.’

  Chrissy took deep breaths. It helped sometimes. ‘Where is she?’ she asked.

  ‘I’ve put her down in her room.’

  Dan followed her. Perhaps he was worried what she might do.

  Chrissy reached into the cot and took Eloise in her arms. She looked down at her sleepy little face, oval-shaped like hers. She had the same nose too. Her mouth was thin, a different sort of a mouth. Brown eyes like Dan’s. Everyone said she had Dan’s eyes. And her cute, playful smile. She was always smiling. Just like Dan.

  Dan was right. She would go and see the doctor and she would fight this. Eloise needed her. She needed to be a good mother to her daughter.

  Kissing her delicate face, still fast asleep, Chrissy placed her back into the cot.

  ‘Now what are you doing?’ asked Dan. He had followed her back into their room.

  ‘Looking for these,’ she said, fishing out some old tracksuit bottoms and a pair of battered trainers. ‘I’m going running.’

  ‘Running?’

  ‘It might just clear my head. And I’ll make the doctor’s appointment tomorrow first thing.’

  CHAPTER 38

  Tuscany: 2007

  Eloise woke with a start. Her mother was throwing things into her suitcase.

  ‘Mum? What’re you doing?’

  ‘We have to get out of here,’ she said.

  ‘But why? I told you last night that Marianna wants us to stay. Are you listening to me?’

  ‘I don’t know who that woman is but she was asking a lot of questions.’

  ‘You said you wouldn’t run away any more, Mum.’

  ‘I need to go home.’

  ‘Well, at least stay for the party.’ Eloise knew how trivial that sounded after all that had gone on. Maybe she was being selfish, but then so was her mother. Last night was all in the past and they had to get on with the present. They had to trust Marianna. And no matter how warped it was, she wanted to see Nico again.

  ‘What time is it?’ she asked, searching for her phone. The last thing Eloise wanted was for Nico to show up here. He had said something about a motorbike ride. If she had been thinking straight last night she would have put him off that.

  ‘Juliet’s going to get Laura to sort our flights. We need to be ready by ten.’

  She carried on stuffing things into the suitcase. Eloise got out of bed and kicked the lid down. ‘I told you, it’s fine,’ she said.

  ‘How can it be fine?’ replied Chrissy. ‘It’s not fine. It’ll never be fine.’

  Eloise walked over to the window and pulled opened the blinds. The sunshine was burning through the mist. Tiny bundles of grapes, wet with morning dew, were hanging off the vines that twisted round the pergola. And red geraniums in wooden tubs waited patiently for their petals to dry out, their leaves threaded with shiny spiders’ webs.

  ‘What about Juliet? I bet she doesn’t think we should go.’

  ‘What’s all this shouting?’ Juliet peered round the door. ‘Not doing my hangover any good, I can tell you.’ Her hair was wild, still backcombed and pushed off her face with a black, glittery eye-mask. Clearly she had got her sparkle back, and even with a hangover she looked glamorous.

  ‘Mum wants to go home.’

  ‘Yes, I know. I’ve got Laura trying to sort something.’

  ‘But Marianna says she’s not going to do anything. Doesn’t want us to leave.’

  ‘It’s not up to me,’ said Juliet, stepping into the room. ‘We’ll go somewhere else, talk it all through. Somewhere more …’ She glanced at Eloise as she searched for the right word. ‘… more neutral.’

  A loud knocking made all three of them freeze.

  ‘Buongiorno!’

  It was Marianna, bringing them their usual fresh croissants and bread.

  True to her word.

  She looked exactly the same as she had done the previous morning, smiling and radiant, and leaving a delicate trail of orange blossom wherever she went.

  ‘So what have you got planned for today?’ she asked, handing Juliet the croissants and bread.

  ‘My mum wants to go home,’ said Eloise, indicating to her that her mother was hiding in the bedroom.

  ‘Already? What a pity.’

  Juliet ushered them out onto the terrace and busied herself in the kitchen. The outside temperature was slowly creeping upwards, although for now it was tolerable. Soon the smell of coffee was released into the morning and Eloise gave Marianna a pleading smile. She seemed on the verge of saying something to Eloise when Chrissy suddenly appeared.

  ‘So tell me,’ said Chrissy, ‘do all guests get a personal delivery service?’

  She sat down next to Marianna, scraping her chair back on the tiles.

  ‘Well, actually, I only do the ones I like or who have interesting stories to tell,’ s
he replied.

  ‘Le petit déjeuner!’ Juliet announced. She had come out carrying a tray loaded with cups, plates, croissants, cutlery, butter, jam, bread and cheese. They helped her set it down and Eloise handed out plates.

  Marianna held up her hand. ‘Café, only, for me. Really I came by to remind you about the party. I hope you’re still going to come tonight. It’s just a few people from the village, members of staff and some friends from Florence. There’s food, and fireworks if it’s not too wet, dancing too. It’s just a thing we do every summer. I always invite my guests.’ She turned to Chrissy, and added, ‘I would like it very much if you would come.’

  Juliet poured out the coffee. Marianna plopped in a sugar cube and began to stir. The sound of the spoon against the china cup became the only sound. She tapped the spoon a few times before putting it down on the saucer.

  ‘How did you find me, Juliet?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘How did you know to come to Tuscany?’

  Juliet wiped the sweat from her top lip.

  ‘Well, I, erm … I was … Actually, I was trying to track down Chrissy and chanced upon an article that you were mentioned in …’

  Chrissy was instantly on alert, and Juliet acting flustered was certainly not helping.

  ‘And there you were. And … and here are we.’ Juliet tried to give Chrissy a reassuring smile, taking a moment to think how to rescue the situation. ‘At the end of the article it said how you now live in Italy and run a luxury holiday retreat. So I searched your name and ‘Dream Tuscany’ came up. I said to myself, we simply have to come.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘You were much easier to find than my friend here.’ Juliet laughed nervously.

  ‘So where was the brooch when you stole it?’

  Chrissy looked dazed. It took her a while to process the question, still trying to unravel the thread of what had already been said.

  Eloise felt betrayed. Hadn’t Marianna agreed last night that her mother had already suffered enough?

  ‘What do you mean?’ said Chrissy.

  ‘Well, was it in the car? Or maybe in his wallet?’

  ‘Erm. I don’t—’ There was panic in her eyes. ‘It was in his jacket pocket. Which he’d put over the back of the chair. Why?’

  ‘You stole the brooch from him?’ said Juliet. ‘Oh my god, so … So it’s yours, Marianna? Those tiny letters on the back – “ML” – they’re your initials.’ Juliet gasped, covering her mouth with the back of her hand.

  ‘Who are you?’ said Chrissy, suddenly on her feet. Her hands felt for the wall behind her as she tried to keep Marianna in her sights. When her back thumped hard against it she realized she had nowhere to go and her breathing became frantic.

  ‘As I told you last night, my life would have been very different if my husband were still alive. I cannot forgive what you did, but perhaps you should know that I forgive you.’

  ‘But—,’ said Chrissy, ‘I don’t—’

  ‘Mum, come and sit down.’

  Chrissy’s eyes darted from Eloise to Juliet, and back to Eloise. It was already nearly forty degrees but Chrissy was shivering.

  ‘Please don’t waste any more of your life over this,’ said Marianna. ‘Your daughter needs you to be alive, not some shadow of yourself.’

  Chrissy looked terrified as Marianna moved towards her.

  ‘It’s okay,’ she said. ‘You have my blessing to put this behind you now.’ Then she placed her hand over Chrissy’s. ‘I forgive you,’ she whispered.

  Looking down at that hand, the hand of her rapist’s widow, Chrissy allowed herself to be led over to a chair. Several minutes went by undisturbed as she sank deeper into her thoughts. When a lizard scampered across the terrace it seemed to bring her round slightly.

  Chrissy turned to Marianna. She stared deep into her eyes. Finally, mouthing the words thank you. And then, more audibly, ‘Thank you.’

  ‘So … the party,’ said Marianna, looking at her watch. ‘You’ll come? Of course, we hope the storm holds off or we won’t be able to have any fireworks.’

  She stood up. Holding her hand out to Chrissy in a business-like fashion.

  Chrissy stared at it.

  Her hand was trembling as it connected with Marianna’s. They shook to seal up the past.

  ***

  Marianna disappeared along the path. Watching her go it was as if in that moment time stood eerily still. The sky was dark and heavy over the hills. The croissants and coffee looked like they had been abandoned in a hurry, the occupants having fled in fear.

  The same lizard scarpered out from under Chrissy’s chair as she brought her legs into her chest, hugging her knees. Her forehead dropped down onto them.

  ‘It’s okay, Mum. Honestly.’

  She had been waiting for one of them to speak so she could launch an attack. ‘Was she talking about the same newspaper article that you saw, Juliet?’

  ‘Well, erm, I suppose so,’ said Juliet, cowering under Chrissy’s furious stare. ‘“Victim’s widow” it said. There was a photograph. It made me cry, made it seem real. She had a name and a face.’

  ‘It was always real, Juliet.’

  ‘Yes, I know but—’

  ‘I killed her fucking husband.’

  ‘Who was a fucking rapist. I still can’t believe you never told me, Chrissy. All these years.’

  ‘So then what did you do? After you saw her picture.’

  ‘I did a search on her name.’

  ‘As easy as that,’ said Chrissy.

  Juliet studied her. ‘Why did you take it, Chrissy? The brooch. And then send it to me?’

  ‘I didn’t know you were going to wear it, day in, day out, did I? I had a lot on my mind too, you know,’ she said, narrowing her eyes at her.

  ‘Well, what did you expect me to do with it? It’s all I had left of you.’ Juliet’s eyes filled with tears. ‘Did you want me to get caught? Is that it?’

  Chrissy stood up, and Eloise shuddered; the noise of the chair grating on her nerves.

  ‘Let’s face it, Juliet, you’d have told them it was me in any case.’

  ‘You don’t know that, Chrissy,’ Juliet shouted after her. ‘Chrissy.’

  She was about to follow her but Eloise held her back.

  ***

  The jet of water powered down over her body, suntanned and soft. Eloise had set the temperature to freezing but it still didn’t feel cool enough. When the storm finally did come, it would certainly be a relief. For all of them. So they were staying here, at least for now. All her mother had wanted to do was just lie by the pool and think. She was still in a state of shock probably, but at least she seemed calm and more at peace with the world.

  Eloise let her be. If Juliet wanted to seek her out, then it was up to her to take that risk. She couldn’t intervene any more; she had played her part in bringing them together and now it was up to the two of them. If she had known, when Juliet first got in touch with that very first phone call, that it would be as painful a journey as this she might never have embarked upon it. But Eloise was glad that she had, because, at least now her mother had a chance to live her life properly again.

  She allowed the drips to fall onto the white tiles, cool against her feet, intrigued by how quickly the drips became puddles. She wasn’t sure what prompted it, perhaps the realization she was wandering about the place naked, but last night’s conversation with Nico suddenly entered her mind. Quickly wrapping a towel around herself, she hurried to see what time it was.

  Five past eleven.

  ‘Buongiorno, Eloise.’

  Nico had arrived carrying a spare helmet threaded through his arm.

  CHAPTER 39

  Tuscany: 2007

  Eloise felt the towel slip. She caught it just in time and hitched it up, securing it under her arm. Running her fingers through her hair, teasing out the wet strands, it soon occurred to her that Nico had overstepped the privacy marker. No one had invited him in. She certainly hadn�
�t.

  ‘I didn’t mean to intrude,’ he said, sensing his mistake and stepping backwards. ‘I did knock, but it was all open. So I just—’

  ‘It’s okay,’ she said.

  He put both helmets down carefully on the table and came towards her again. ‘How is your mother?’

  Eloise felt her legs weaken. ‘Why?’

  ‘The headache?’

  ‘Oh. God, yeah, the headache. That’s right. Well, she’s okay now, thanks.’

  Her mind was in a spin. What if her mother was to come back now?

  ‘Okay,’ he said, puffing out his cheeks. ‘Well, maybe you have things to do today.’ He picked up the helmets again, one on each arm.

  ‘No! I can be ready in—’

  ‘No, no, no. Today feels not good.’

  She knew she had to let him go. Not just today, but forever. After all, he was the one person standing between her mother and a life sentence.

  ‘Domani,’ Eloise shouted. ‘Perhaps we could go tomorrow?’

  Nico spun round on his heel. ‘But you’re coming this evening, no?’

  ‘Well, yes. I think so.’

  He pulled something out of his pocket. ‘This …’ He held up another business card and placed it on the table, ‘is my bar in Florence. If you want to go this afternoon you can go by Vespa. Or maybe—’ He made a gesture as if thumbing a ride.

  ‘Hitch-hiking! Oh god, no.’

  ‘Or a cab maybe. Ask my mother for a telephone number.’

  He was on his way out again.

  ‘Nico. Nic!’

  He turned round.

  ‘Doesn’t matter, it’s nothing.’

  ‘It’s something,’ he said, coming back towards her.

  ‘No, I’ll see you tonight at the party. That’s if we don’t make it to Florence.’

  He stood with his arms across his chest, his hair falling messily over his face. She was wrestling with the truth of who he actually was. Again. Remember, Eloise.

  ‘Is it Sylvia?’ he asked. ‘I told you, come il vento.’ He made his hand soar like a bird. ‘Or maybe I just don’t meet the right girl yet. Without seeing inside someone’s heart, you cannot really know. Don’t you think?’