I am.
‘People think they can just steal whatever they please whenever they feel like it. He blames himself. He was out jogging at night on a deserted route.’ She takes a large sip of wine. ‘Still, it could have been much worse,’ she suddenly adds, as though she regrets confiding in me. ‘Much worse.’
Yes, it could’ve been.
I’m unsure how to reply so I opt for: ‘The world can be a dangerous place at times. I’m glad he’s all right now.’
Thomas settles the bill after lunch. As we wait on the jetty for the small boat, I look around. Harrison has his arm around Josephine’s shoulders. Alicia and Charles are shooting videos. Garth is sitting on the edge of the jetty, paddling his feet. Gina and Mariella are chatting. Arabella sees me watching her and smiles. Paranoia weaves through my mind. Did she tell me that Sebastian had been robbed for a reason?
On the beach I spot a trio of teenage girls taking photos of The Cleobella in the distance. They are smiling and laughing and happy in their posing. A couple are swimming. The man is the same height as Sam, with a similar hair colour. Normal people leading normal lives. I used to pity them. I used to think that Sam and I were the ones on the one and only path to happiness.
The boat driver indicates that we should board. Salty air brushes my face during the mere minutes it takes to get to the next beach. We disembark and gather round on the sand while everyone listens to the stingray expert. Josephine’s toenails are painted crimson to match her bikini. Gina’s toenails are dark blue in contrast to the fine, white sand. Mariella is wearing an emerald one-piece, with pale pink toes and a silver anklet, not dissimilar to mine but with a seashell instead of a mermaid. Garth fiddles with his large watch, a Tag Heuer sports version, if I’m not mistaken. He also wears multiple multi-coloured bracelets around his wrist. Harrison puts his arm around Josephine and pulls her close, kissing her neck. None of them look like they would deliberately cause me harm.
Lucy appears in a Jeep and rushes down to join us.
‘I’ve never seen stingrays before, can you believe it?’ She steps out of her dress and drops it carelessly to the ground. She is tanned, wearing a white bikini. ‘Thomas said it was fine to join in as long as I keep myself to myself. I was having just the best time on board. Honestly, it was sheer bloody bliss not having to worry about being summoned to work, but if I regret one thing about my working history, it’s that I didn’t make the most of every opportunity. I was too busy falling in love with the wrong men and wasting my time holed up with them in crappy, dark cabins.’
‘Weren’t we all?’ I laugh, as I decline a snorkel being offered to me.
I learned to free dive on one of Sam’s and my honeymoons (we had a few) in Jamaica. There is something so uplifting and freeing about holding my breath for as long as I can. Sam and I used to compete. I would always win. He hated it.
I swim further out, to get away. I turn around, take a deep breath, dive down and swim just above the seabed. While the silence below the surface has always creeped me out a little, it is magical and almost surreal, like being in a slow-motion, colour movie. It’s a different pace of life beneath the sea. The stingrays glide past elegantly, skimming the seabed.
When I stop to take a rest, my feet are surrounded by tropical fish; I wish I could name them all. Seaweed sways gently in the water.
As I approach the shore, I sense someone alongside me as I break the surface. Harrison. He touches my arm as he points to a stingray circling our feet.
‘Look! Isn’t this out of this world?’
I look up. The rest of the group are all distracted by the stingrays, their backs to us. Apart from Josephine. She is staring straight at us.
I smile, but she does not return the gesture. She whispers something to Gina, who turns to look at me too. Harrison, oblivious, keeps pointing at our feet. I walk out of the sea and begin to towel-dry. Beneath a parasol I spy Daniel, silently watching everything.
Back on board The Cleobella, I aim for the hot tub to soothe my back and ankle, both aching after the accident. By the time I return to our cabin, it’s in darkness. Lucy is having a siesta.
I crack open the curtain to let in a little light. I glimpse something on my bed. The towel art today is shaped like an oyster and in the centre, instead of a pearl, is one of the gifts I wrapped up. I recognise the gold wrapping paper.
On Lucy’s bedside table I spot that she has received a gift too and has unwrapped it: one of the pens.
I open mine, feeling a twinge of excitement. I love gifts. One of the things I miss about Sam is his generosity. I pull open the lid of the navy box. Only, mine is not a pen, nor a daisy bracelet.
It is the very last item Sam ever acquired for me: a watch. It must be the same one because on the back it’s engraved: To the woman I love. xxx. He took it back on our last ever day together, he said I didn’t deserve his generosity after our vicious argument.
I never thought I would see this again. I never wanted it in the first place and now it’s as if Sam is trying to taunt me or remind me of what he called my ingratitude.
I look out of the porthole; we’re on the move. Sam isn’t here, he’s out there somewhere. But someone connected to our pasts is. If I find out exactly what happened to Sam, then I can ensure my own safety. I am being poked with an invisible stick. And I still don’t yet know who by or exactly why.
It’s then that I spot a note tucked inside the box:
Tick, tock. Counting down the days until the end. Unless, of course, you are careless enough to have another accident. One million pounds. Watch out, Lola.
TWENTY-FIVE
Then
The Caribbean
Sam wanted me to continue as if our massive fight had never happened, while he targeted Tanya.
‘Enough,’ I said. ‘We’ve done enough. It is not a game any more. These are real people.’
Sam ignored me. He was going to do as he pleased anyway. I needed to warn Marcus. I had to seize any opportunity. I’d made arrangements with Alexandra for after dinner so I sent word from the reception desk to let her know that I would be late for our evening get-together. Instead, I spent my time loitering near the main dining area. When I spied Marcus excusing himself from the dinner table, I followed him.
‘Sam knows,’ I said. ‘And he has a temper.’
Marcus looked stunned. Sam came across as so placid, no one could imagine him with a temper.
‘Thank you for telling me,’ he said.
He returned to the dining area. But, as the desserts were served, then the coffee, I could see the intensity and concern in Marcus’s expression as he appeared to only half-listen to whatever the person to his right was saying.
Marcus and Tanya went to the casino, as they did every night. Sam worked his charm on Tanya, expertly excluding Marcus from the games and the conversation. Marcus was no longer the charmer. He had encountered someone who was brighter, bolder, unafraid of the consequences.
The following night they didn’t appear at their table for dinner. My mind conjured up various worst-case scenarios. Had Marcus confessed to what we’d done? Had Sam told Tanya?
Another couple told us that they had disembarked in Martinique. ‘Family emergency.’
Relief.
Sam had smiled at me, put his arm around my waist then squeezed so hard that he left a bruise.
I knew that when we reached the end of the trip, we would divorce. I made a vow that I would use our money to do good, make a positive difference to people’s lives. It was becoming increasingly hard to justify my actions.
Sam didn’t come back to our cabin that night. I went out on deck and paced. Flashes of various arguments came and went. I was never alone: the omnipresent CCTV loomed.
I shuddered as I passed beneath the endless cameras facing all directions with the creepy, beady eyes of unknown staff hiding unseen behind the lenses. It was what I imagined prison to be like: no privacy. Other tortured night owls roamed the deck. I stood near a railing and
looked down into the jet black of the water, the swirl of the foaming white tips of the waves lit by the boat’s lights. I wondered what it would feel like to give in to the siren pull of oblivion below. Strangely, I used to think that it would be better to be in a sinking ship than an about-to-crash plane, but thinking about it properly, neither option is better than the other.
‘Paradise not what you thought?’ Alexandra’s voice startled me. ‘Fancy a cognac?’
I did.
We shared more stories that night. I opened up about Sam (not everything, obviously).
‘It seemed like such a romantic idea to give up everything and run away to sea. Just like in the old movies.’
‘A lot of them are tragic too,’ she said with a smile.
‘True. I thought that Sam and I were different.’
‘Everybody thinks that. I dated a man in between husbands whom I fell for deeply. Yet, he only wanted me for my money. My friends warned me, but I wouldn’t listen.’ She smiled. ‘I got my revenge though.’
‘How?’
‘Among other things, I arranged a large birthday party for him at one of the most expensive restaurants, then left him to pick up the bill.’
We both laughed.
She complimented me on my excellent taste in jewellery. I invented an aunt I had inherited them from, not that I think Alexandra would’ve asked me how I came to own such incredible pieces. I just always felt safer if I wrapped a lie around the ownership of my vintage possessions.
She showed me a brooch – a stunning, delicate butterfly. It had been given to her grandmother who had been engaged but had fallen in love with a forbidden man who had lived in France. Alexandra had spun such a rich story of secrets, lies, intrigue and ultimately heartbreak, that the brooch felt alive with history.
‘My grandmother would like the thought of me sharing her story,’ she said. ‘She had dementia and would ring my mother every night, begging to be freed from her private hell. When I saw the impact it had on my mother, it made me feel helpless. I think that is why money is important to me. I want choices.’
We discussed the importance of living our lives to the full.
‘I would like you to have it,’ Alexandra said, handing me the brooch.
‘I couldn’t,’ I said. I didn’t deserve it.
She insisted. Afterwards, she told me how her daughter had died in a bus accident, aged fifteen.
‘You remind me of her,’ she said.
I couldn’t refuse the brooch after that. I came clean about Sam’s temper. I admitted I was scared. She told me about a place I could visit at our next port of call where I could get my jewellery repurposed.
‘They also make excellent copies, if that helps. Start saving, keep a diary. Leave him sooner rather than later.’
I took her advice. I had my mermaid pendant turned into an anklet, for a start. I could no longer bear to wear it in its original form, it was too stark a reminder of my shattered dreams, yet I didn’t want to throw it away. I wanted to keep it as a permanent reminder not to make the same mistakes twice.
With Alexandra’s encouragement, I grew stronger. But Sam seemed to sense the change in me because he asked if I was planning on leaving him.
‘No,’ I lied. ‘But this isn’t the life I signed up for.’
‘I won’t let you leave me,’ he said. ‘We’re bound together. If you go, I won’t be able to trust you. I won’t be able to relax, wondering if you have the urge to confess all to a new man.’
‘I won’t say anything, ever.’
‘You’re right, you won’t.’
Alexandra and I plotted. I would book both Sam and myself flights to London on the day we were due to disembark on the final stage of the cruise. I would persuade him that we should go to Devon, talk it through.
‘In reality, just get a lawyer and cut all ties,’ she advised. ‘Sam will drag you down and then he will leave you in the gutter. Forgive me for saying this, but you should never have trusted him. People like him, they don’t do it for you. They do it for themselves. They are dangerous. If I were you, I would get the hell out now.’
The night before, Sam and I had found a quiet spot out on deck.
‘It’s the stress of these long trips that gets to us,’ he said. ‘We’ll do shorter ones, make different plans.’
I agreed with everything he said. That was a mistake. It alerted him to the fact that I was planning something different. Sam knew that, these days, I would never just agree to everything he wanted without a fight.
He brought up Marcus again and I brought up all the others. I shivered out in the night temperatures. The drama of the last few weeks, the lack of sleep, the adrenaline, it was all catching up, until the sun rose on another beautiful day.
Approaching Bridgetown, despite my sorrow and tiredness, I was aware enough to sense that something was wrong. As the engines slowed down, we slipped into port, and I spotted a coastguard boat. It wasn’t that unusual but fear formed deep in my gut and I couldn’t shake off the sense of something ominous. I imagined armed police swooping, helicopters hovering.
I packed the last few things into my bags, pleased to be leaving the cabin and the ship behind. While Sam showered, I sat on the bed, staring at the wall. I almost didn’t notice it because I had long given up hoping to search the contents as it never left his side: Sam’s rucksack. It was too good an opportunity to miss. I couldn’t resist, although I wasn’t sure what I was looking for. I rummaged. Horror hit. Alexandra’s emerald necklace, surrounded with diamonds – my favourite – was nestled in his secret compartment. In his phone (he thought I didn’t know the code) were her details, the type of things he could sell. I felt sick. She would think that I was part of his betrayal. I had told her too much.
I closed the rucksack, put it back where it had sat on the bed.
A few moments later, Sam emerged from the shower, still wet, towel wrapped around his waist.
‘I’ll be back in a minute,’ I said.
I tried to phone Alexandra, but even though she was in the ‘emergency-use only’ camp of phone ownership, she didn’t reply. The queues for the main exits were already heaving, the corridors were rammed. There was no point in trying to get to her suite, it was too far away. The lifts and stairs would be busy; it was disembarkation time.
I returned to the cabin; Sam said that we needed to go.
I allowed myself to be rushed because I wanted to get away, to track down Alexandra and explain that the theft didn’t have anything to do with me.
I shouldn’t have panicked. I should have remained calm.
The pier at Bridgetown was long. It was hot and the relief when we reached the cruise terminal was immense. Until I saw the queues.
‘That’s unusual,’ I said to Sam. ‘I wonder what’s going on?’
He shrugged.
I was hot and bothered, so it was a clue I didn’t pick up on. For someone who had been in such a rush to leave our cabin, I should’ve picked up on his nonchalance as something to be wary of.
‘Shit! My watch!’ he said, holding up his left arm to show me. ‘I’ll have to go back and get it.’
‘It will take ages,’ I said. ‘Report it to lost property. Ask one of your friends to post it.’
He had many watches and the one he’d left was not particularly special to him. The second clue I missed.
‘I’ll catch one of the shuttle carts,’ he said. ‘I’ll be quick. Make sure you stay in the queue. We don’t want to lose our place.’
I know now that Sam must have realised I was planning something and that’s why he left me alone in the customs queue. To remind me that he would escape and that I wouldn’t. I couldn’t outsmart him. He left me to deal with the consequences, knowing that if I incriminated him too, he would already be long gone. I believe he was somehow behind my sudden release too, as if he wanted to show me that no matter where he was, he would be in control.
Alexandra would think I had betrayed her friendship and confidences. I ha
ted Sam in that moment, more than I’ve ever hated anyone. I vowed to track him down, to force him to fix whatever he’d done. But he emptied our bank accounts and hid in Mexico, as I later found out when he got in contact again, when something or someone had drawn him out of hiding.
And that is why I am in this situation. Searching for an unknown axe before it can fall.
TWENTY-SIX
Now
Day Two Evening
Itinerary: Hen and stag quiz, informal dinner. 8 p.m. All to attend.
I stare at the watch.
‘Game on,’ I whisper under my breath.
I want this over with. I want to move on without fear of exposure or consequences. I can’t change what I did, so this is the only way forward.
There are ten days until we reach Bridgetown, Barbados. Ten days to smoke out Sam’s accomplice or some link to Alexandra to discover exactly who or what I am up against. Just over a week until I can turn my back on the past.
I stride to Thomas’s cabin and rap loudly on his door. He opens it, looking dishevelled.
‘Did you give me this gift?’ I say, holding up the box.
‘Yes. You look pissed off. Sorry, is this like discovering that Santa isn’t real? There were two spare pens because Alicia said that she and Charles had enough pens and trinkets to last them several lifetimes.’
‘When did you put it in my cabin?’
‘I didn’t. I gave it to Lucy when we got back,’ he says. ‘You weren’t around. Feel free to thank me for my generosity any time.’
‘Thank you.’
‘A pleasure.’
I head back along the corridor as he shuts the door behind me.
I’m back in our cabin. ‘Lucy! Lucy? Wake up!’
‘What?’ she says, lifting up her eye mask. ‘Is there a fire drill?’
‘No. When did you put the gift Thomas gave you on my bed?’
‘I don’t know. When he gave it to me I left it on your pillow. Why?’
She sits up and takes greedy sips from a plastic bottle of water.
‘On my pillow? Are you sure?’
The Ex-Husband Page 18