‘Hawick,’ he says, more than a little scared. ‘I’ll take you to the airport if you like. You can be there in less than an hour.’ He rushes for his clothes, but I motion for him not to bother. ‘Home then?’ I glance up, my face reminding him of the stupidity of the word, then slouch backwards under the weight of my mistake. ‘I’m really sorry about this. I never thought . . . I just . . . I never anticipated—’
‘It’s not your fault,’ I say as I adjust the sheet to keep myself covered. He looks about the room and picks up my bra and jumper, offers them to me. I take them, feeling guilty for his embarrassment. ‘But when I find her, I’m going to kill her.’
‘Well,’ he chuckles, then stops himself as I slip my arms into my bra. ‘Perhaps I shouldn’t tell you this, but she’s just next door.’
I bolt up like a jack-in-the-box, hanging on to the sheet. I point at the rest of my clothes and motion for him to pass them to me. He crouches and picks up the scattered remains of my dignity. ‘What is she doing here?’ I ask, spinning my fingers to indicate that he should turn around. He does so without question, and I dress.
‘Greg brought her here. I don’t think he wanted to go home.’
‘Probably because of his fiancée, wouldn’t you think?’ It’s a chance to throw that one at him, test it for truth. From his silence I assume I am right. Turns out that not everything Elle tells me is a lie.
I pull on my fancy Reeboks and barge past, pulling open the door. I point left and right, looking for an answer from Matt. He indicates a door and I hammer my fist against it but get no reply.
‘Where are they?’ I demand.
‘Probably at breakfast,’ he says.
I huff and puff, my displeasure almost at the level of last night’s pleasure. If I had to hazard a guess, I would say it was Ecstasy that she gave me. Heightened sensations. Open and chatty. Everything I am not. I snatch a glance in a hallway mirror and see that my pupils are still the size of saucers.
‘Wait a minute.’ Matt reaches out and takes my hands in his, still wearing nothing but a towel. I feel none of that electricity running across my skin from the night before. But there is something. Perhaps a memory of something good suppressed by the guilt of the morning after. For this reason alone I don’t push him away. ‘I know you weren’t quite yourself last night, but I had a great time with you. You’re single, and unlike Greg, I’m single too. And a decent guy, if you don’t hold it against me that I took advantage of you.’
‘You didn’t take advantage of me. I was more than willing.’ I think I should tell him about Antonio, but the prospect of the truth doesn’t fill me with excitement. I realise that to him I must look like quite a catch. Single, averagely pretty, good job, great fun. Uninhibited in bed with a little bit of chemical assistance. I think back to the night before, flashes of memories of all the different ways we had sex. We were like a couple of teenagers at it for the first time with our hands on a Kama Sutra. I couldn’t get enough of him if I remember correctly. I can still feel the after-effects of it now, the throbbing between my legs, the ache of my hip. I feel my cheeks flush at the embarrassment and pull myself away.
‘So let’s do this again. Next time without the drugs and the crazy sister.’
I smile as my eyes scan his body, the towel that is only a few more steps from falling. I don’t want him to feel bad, but the pitying look on my face has told him all he needs to know.
‘Or not,’ he concedes, defeated.
‘It wouldn’t be a good idea.’
I wait in the corridor while he dresses. We find Elle in the dining room, Greg sitting opposite her. I walk towards their table, Matt just behind me. He is whispering frantic warnings as we pass the travelling reps and foreign holidaymakers pouring tea and slicing bacon. The warm aroma of bread lingers in the air. Smells good. Homely. By the time I arrive at her side and sit in the chair, she still hasn’t noticed me.
‘Elle,’ I snap, but she doesn’t respond. Instead she continues buttering a dry triangle of toast. I watch her as she spreads it thinly, the layer perfect and even like that from an advert on the television. ‘Elle,’ I say, louder this time. ‘What the fuck did you do to me last night?’ Still she says nothing. I lash out, smack her hand. Force is all she understands. I feel an immediate sense of regret and foreboding as her triangle of toast flies from her hand, lands in Greg’s coffee cup. He lunges backwards, but still the coffee splashes over his plate and shirt.
‘What the—’ he begins, but I cut his words short.
‘I said, what did you do to me last night?’ I hear the sounds of the restaurant quieten as a couple of the nearest tables stop what they are doing and turn their attention to us. I brace myself because I must be firm. Hard to do when she is still acting as if I am not here. Matt takes up position next to Greg, warning him not to interfere. Elle picks up her napkin and wipes her fingers. She offers it to Greg, who snatches it, eyes daggering into me as he mops up the spillage. ‘You drugged me, Elle. You made me miss my flight.’
She looks up at me with her nose and chin in the air and asks, ‘I’m sorry, who are you?’
Her arrogance sends me into a spin, and I reach out, quick as a fox, latching on to her wrist. I tighten my grip around her skinny little arm and get a good hold of her. She doesn’t resist, even though I am certain she could out-strength me. But that’s the thing with psychopaths. Sociopaths. Whatever you want to call her. They don’t fear or react to outside stimuli because they see no threat. Instead she uses her other hand to knock over a glass of juice that is waiting in the empty table setting. It pours into my lap, and I see a smirk creep on to Greg’s face. Matt is calm; grabs a napkin and tries to mop it up. I grip her tighter as juice pours down my legs, seeping into the jeans she bought for me.
‘If you remember correctly, as of today I no longer have a sister,’ she says. ‘We have nothing left to say to each other. That’s what you told me yesterday, when you broke my heart. So what, I slipped you an E. Big deal.’ She pulls her arm away and I don’t resist. She reaches for another triangle of toast and begins buttering it in the same prescriptive style.
‘Big deal?’ I demand. ‘Of course it’s a big deal. And it was you that told me you didn’t want to see me any more.’
She slams the knife down on her plate and tosses the toast down next to it. Her fingers remain on top of the blade and I edge backwards at the recollection of what she is capable of. I’ll fucking stick you with this, I promise you. She remembers her words too, I’m sure of it. My mouth goes dry.
‘I only wanted for you to enjoy yourself, for once in your pitiful and empty life. To feel something other than hate for all of us.’ She slurps at a glass of juice, but most of it runs across her chin. She sets the glass back down, spilling more juice on the white cloth. Even Greg looks anxious now. ‘You loved me last night. You questioned your desire to cut me out. And as far as I can tell, what with you being here in a hotel and him following you to breakfast,’ she jabs the knife towards Matt, ‘you had a pretty good time on it.’
‘That’s not the point,’ I say, trying not to look at Matt. But it’s a hard truth to face. I had a great time. It was true that nothing had ever felt so good.
‘I will take you back to my house so you can get your bag. Then I will take you to the airport and ensure you get on a flight that takes you away from me for the rest of your miserable life.’ She says it all very matter-of-factly, as if her speech came with bullet points. ‘I’d say that makes me pretty fucking selfless if you ask me, considering I had no intention of ever trying to cut you out. Just because our parents didn’t want you, it doesn’t mean that I didn’t. I wanted you. I cried when they took you away from me. I needed you, Irini. You were so small. You couldn’t hurt anyone. I wanted to keep you, paint you with butterflies, but they wouldn’t let me, just because I made one or two mistakes.’
She stands up and I follow, my jeans wet and sticky. I offer up a half-goodbye, half-apology to Matt, and take with me some of the
best memories of my life from the night before. I wait in the lobby while she goes to her bedroom to collect her things. She returns dressed in fresh sportswear, carrying a small overnight bag. For a split second I wonder if she had all this planned. But then I clench my teeth, shake it off. What does it even matter?
‘Can you give me your phone?’ I ask as we begin to walk out of the lobby. She hands it over without question and I dial Antonio’s number, trying to think of an excuse as to why I am not with him. Just as he picks up, I hear Matt calling my name. I hit the End Call button and spin around.
‘Irini, just a moment,’ he puffs, his hair messed up in gentle blonde curls, cheeks flushed, dressed in last night’s clothes. His sprint drops into a jog as he arrives in front of us.
‘Matt, I really have to go. I have to get a flight home.’ Just as I say that, the phone starts to buzz in my hand. It is of course Antonio, returning the call that I dropped.
‘Just hold on a moment.’ Matt reaches out and touches my free hand. ‘Aren’t you going to answer that? I’ll wait,’ he suggests as he looks down at the phone.
I open my mouth to speak, but before I do, Elle interrupts. ‘Actually, that’s my phone. Hers is broken.’ She snatches it before I can react and answers the call. ‘Hello, who is this?’ I hear her ask as she whisks the phone away. Within only a few short steps I cannot hear what she is saying over the hum of the busy lobby.
‘Good, she’s gone,’ Matt says, taking my empty hand in his. ‘I wanted to talk to you. Just for a moment before you go. I wanted to tell you something.’
‘Matt, there’s no point to this.’
‘Maybe not, but regardless, I want to say it.’ He takes a long, bolstering breath in, lets it out quickly. ‘I want to say that I know what this trip has been like for you. I know it has been a nightmare. And I’m so sorry about your mother, and all the shit with your family.’ He snatches a glance at Elle and my gaze follows. She is still talking on the phone, moving towards one of the empty seats, and I wonder what further damage she is doing to my life. ‘But for me it has been the opposite. As soon as I saw you in the gym with Elle, I thought, just, wow.’
‘Stop it.’ Whatever anybody thinks when they look at me, wow is not on the list of possibilities. For Elle, maybe. But for me? No way.
‘Really, that’s the truth. I’m not like Greg. I don’t go to the gym to pick up girls. I find it hard to open up to people, or to let them get close.’ He steps closer, drops his voice to a whisper. ‘The things I told you, about my parents, and about having a therapist . . . I don’t tell people that stuff. Greg doesn’t even know. With you, I can be honest. There is something about you . . . about us, together, that feels right. I feel I can be myself with you.’
‘You don’t know me at all. We’ve only met twice.’
‘Aye, but the first time we met I told you things about my past that I haven’t told anybody before. I’ve been looking for that all my life. That has to mean something. I don’t know what you think of yourself, but you are amazing. Last night was—’
‘Because of Ecstasy.’ I glance over at Elle, who is smiling, laughing. She is sitting on one of the plump lobby chairs next to a businessman dressed in a sharp suit with a laptop propped on his knees. He looks only mildly interested in what is on his screen, considerably more interested in who has sat down next to him. Elle is the sister who turns heads, makes minds and bodies stray. Not me. People do not say wow when they meet me.
‘No. Last night was amazing. I know how you felt. I could see it. I could feel it. And I know how I felt, too.’ He reaches into his pocket, pulls out a business card. ‘I want to see you again. This is my number. When you get back home, think about it. Think about me. And if you want, call me.’
I take the card and nod. ‘OK. I’ll think about it.’ He reaches forward and kisses me. He goes for the lips, but I turn slightly and he catches my cheek instead. His stubble grates at my skin, feels like it has left a red mark like a graze on a child’s knee. Matt’s lips purse, a smile of understanding that nothing today is the same. It is as if he realises that his effort is futile. That familiar feeling I know so well; that there is nothing you can do to change things already done.
‘Take care, Irini,’ he says as he lets go of my hand before walking away.
I look over at Elle, who has already ended the call. I beckon her over and she meets me at the glass doors. They slide open and shut as people pass in and out, warm air from outside mixing with the chill of the air-conditioning vents. ‘What did you tell him?’ I ask as I watch Matt slip back into the dining room.
‘I told him that last night, when it came to leaving, our father broke down in tears and begged you to stay just one more night. That he was so very sorry. That he wanted a chance to put everything right, even though he realised such chances didn’t exist.’ I can imagine Antonio hearing this, happy that perhaps finally my demons might be put to rest. That now I will agree to marry him and have a baby. ‘He asked why you didn’t call, but I said that it was an upsetting time, that you had taken it hard. That we had sat up talking all night. I told him that we would soon be on our way to the airport. That you were better, and that we would try to organise a chance to meet at some point in the future of our reunited family.’ She lets a fake smile bounce on and off her lips.
‘What did he say to that?’
‘He seemed very happy,’ she says as we walk through the doors.
‘Thanks for covering for me,’ I mutter, embarrassed that my psychotic sister has the chance to play a part in this deceit. That I have proven myself untrustworthy in her presence. She says nothing as we step out into the car park. We sit in her Mercedes in silence until she starts the engine. Was it her that brought us here?
Her driving is slow and cautious, like that first day. Outside is grey and overcast, the air cooler after last night’s storm, the colours muted by the rain. We skim through the town and follow the country lanes, passing pimple-like hills in the distance. A low-hanging layer of mist still clings to the ground, and after a while I can stand the silence no longer.
‘I’m sorry it has to be like this, Elle.’
‘No you are not,’ she says, her words formal and enunciated. The voice she adopts when she wants to be strong, to show she has set her mind to something. ‘It is what you want. I knew the day would come. People do not tolerate me for long. Remember, that’s why you lied to me about which university you were going to.’
‘It wasn’t a case of not tolerating you. I was scared. Don’t you remember what you did before I left?’
‘Of course I remember,’ she says. ‘Perhaps you are the one who has forgotten that I did it for you.’
‘You threatened me with a knife.’
‘But it wasn’t you I used it on, was it?’ We sit in silence at the memory neither of us wants to recall. ‘And anyway, you lied to me about where you were going before I did what I did.’
We arrive in Horton and she stops at the side of the road, looks out across the view she claims to love, the derelict building she claims to hate. She traces the hills against the glass with her finger. ‘I am never enough for people, Irini. No matter what I do for them. That was always the problem.’ She pulls away again and heads towards the house. We pass the sign for Mam Tor, and as she turns into the driveway, I see the house looming in the distance, the reflection of clouds cast in the windows. She parks up in front of the six-garage block. Frank is there, working on the windscreen of another car.
‘Elle, you’re wrong. It was me that wasn’t enough. Remember, it’s you they kept. You were enough right from the start.’ I say this not really believing it any more. But I have come to understand Elle now. As tough as she seems, she is weak. As strong as her words are, she is frail in spirit. She feels betrayal perhaps even deeper than I do.
‘If only you knew how wrong you were.’ She kills the engine and turns to face me. ‘I have watched you in this house over the last few days. I know you understand now that she wanted you
, even if you don’t understand why he forced you away. It was a close call, you know. Me or you. But she is dead and the past is better left untold. The important thing is that he doesn’t regret his choice, and I only know that because you came here. Thank you,’ she says, a little softer than before, to the point where I think she might mean it. ‘I’ll be all right. Without us, perhaps you will too.’
She steps from the car and I follow, thinking about the first day we arrived here. This place doesn’t feel as strange any more, and I do not feel like such an alien. I even think as I look up at the house, knowing that this will be the last time I step inside, that it is quite a beautiful place, in a moody sort of way. As I step through the open doors, Joyce is sweeping crumbs from the hallway rug. Remnants of yesterday’s mourning. Elle is just up ahead.
‘Morning, Joyce,’ I say. ‘Are you OK?’
‘Yes, Irini. Thank you.’ She spots Elle walking towards the stairs and calls out, ‘Miss Eleanor, your father is still sleeping. He retired early last night and asked me not to disturb him this morning.’
Elle raises a hand to dismiss her, and the only sound to break the silence is the grandfather clock ticking in the background. I roll my eyes at Joyce, offer a gentle smile to show my understanding. In my head I say, Typical Elle, before dismissing the thought as flippant. Joyce just shakes her head.
‘I’m leaving today, Joyce. Thank you for your help while I have been here. Especially yesterday. You’ve been kind.’ She stops sweeping and reaches out to hug me. She rubs at my arms, then moves a hand down to my scarred hip.
‘It’s so nice to see how you have grown up. I remember you as a baby, do you know that?’ I shake my head. ‘I nursed you in that room you’ve been staying in. I used to sit in an old chair in the corner with you in my arms. I missed you when they sent you away.’
Lost for words, I pull her close and squeeze her tightly. To know I was loved, held, that my presence was missed, means more than I could ever explain to her.
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