‘Nice job,’ said Olivia, ‘but you should know Adam is all about business, nothing else.’
Meredith was about to object, and she certainly had no interest in Adam sexually, but she wasn’t going to rise to Olivia’s bait. She figured that Olivia was constantly testing, pushing and then pulling. You just had to go with it and see where it led, and hope that when she did make up her mind, it would be in your favour.
‘Now, you better be able to play well, and you can’t play in that.’ Olivia pointed at Meredith’s linen jumpsuit.
Feeling awkward and knowing that the boys’ eyes – and those of others on the beach – were on her, she shuffled out of the suit. Wearing just her bikini, another Inga donation, Meredith joined Olivia in the centre of the court.
‘You look better than I remember. You had a little bit of puppy fat before. Poverty suits you.’
It was true. Meredith had shifted the additional weight she carried in her younger years because often she couldn’t afford more than one meal a day. However, even though the weight had gone she still carried around the self-consciousnesses about her body that went with it and she felt uncomfortable showing so much skin.
‘Let’s just play,’ said Meredith.
‘Sure.’ Olivia bent down and picked up the ball by her feet and then threw it straight at Meredith who just about managed to catch it before it collided with her head.
‘Sorry, I don’t know my own strength sometimes. Why don’t you serve first?’
Meredith looked across at a nearby court where a young girl popped a smooth serve over the net. It looked easy. She threw the ball up and as it came down, she hit it, caught the top and powered the ball into the sand next to her feet.
‘Jesus, you live here. I thought you would be good at this,’ said Olivia.
‘You can have another go. We won’t count that,’ shouted Dylan from the other side of the court.
‘Patronised by the men, great,’ said Olivia. ‘You okay with this?’
Meredith nodded. Christ, I hate sports, she thought.
She picked the ball up and felt its weight in her hands. It was just a matter of striking it in the centre. Keep your eye on the ball, she told herself and then launched it into the air. This time as it descended, she hit it hard and flush in the centre and it flew across the net. Dylan managed to push it back into the air but Richard mistimed his spike and the ball slammed into the net.
‘One nil,’ called out Dylan with a big grin on his face.
‘Better, I was starting to think you couldn’t do this either. No luck finding Amy then?’
‘I’ll find her, don’t you worry. I know how important she is to you all.’
Olivia sighed loudly. ‘Concentrate now – Dylan is serving and you know these Australians – nothing behind the eyeballs but mighty fine at sports.’
The serve came in fast and hard. Olivia dived and got her hands to it, but the ball bounced straight off them and out of play. Olivia was left lying on the sand.
Meredith looked down at her. ‘Hard cheese,’ she said.
‘What?’
‘It’s from an old movie.’
Olivia got up and dusted the sand from her body but some of it was stuck in the suntan oil that covered her. Meredith guessed some was stuck to her backside as Adam was kneeling by the edge of the court taking photographs.
‘Whatever, let’s play. I can’t stand being beaten by these boys.’
‘Agreed,’ said Meredith.
They took the next point with Olivia spiking the ball after Meredith managed to get her hands to a serve from Richard. This time they exchanged a high five.
From then on it was catch up. They kept one point ahead of the boys until the score was 20-19 and Meredith was to serve for match point. She tossed the ball up and hit it. It was the same result as her very first serve: it hit the ground by her feet.
The boys jumped up and Dylan shouted, ‘We are not giving you this one. We’ve got you now!’
Olivia shook her head and muttered something under her breath that sounded like ‘useless’ to Meredith’s ears.
With the game tied Olivia served next to Dylan. He fielded the return easily, sending the ball high and setting it up for Richard, who jumped and then smashed it down into the sand.
‘Fuck!’
Olivia stormed over to Meredith. ‘Okay listen, Richard is going to serve to you and as you’ve seen, his serve is shit. He’s also a complete flake and will be shitting himself with anxiety right now so he will play it safe and float it over. So move forward, take it early and set me up. We’ve got this, yeah. Don’t fuck it up.’
Adam was still snapping away constantly and now a small crowd had gathered as the games on the courts either side came to an end.
Meredith didn’t say anything but just returned to her side of the court.
Olivia stood by the net and then turned to Meredith and nodded to indicate that she should move forward to receive the serve. Sweat was pouring down Olivia’s back and Meredith was also feeling the heat and although she was used to it – as much as you could be – she wasn’t used to exercising in it. It seemed like a stupid thing to do and she resented being in this situation. As though it matters an iota who wins this childish game, she thought.
Meredith took a step forward.
Richard threw the ball up and then on its descent hit it gently so that it floated, just as Olivia said it would, across the net, and started to drop softly towards the sand. Meredith reached it easily. The correct move was to push the ball back into the air to allow Olivia, who was poised by the net in anticipation of this play, to smash the ball down into the other side of the court but instead, Meredith raised both her palms and hit the ball, hard and fast, towards Olivia. It was too fast for her to react properly and although she tried to get her hands to the ball it slammed into her face.
Olivia fell to the floor clutching her nose.
Dylan, Richard and Adam ran to her aid.
‘Oh God, I’m so sorry, are you all right?’
Olivia looked up at her, eyes full of fury. ‘You did that on purpose.’
‘I’m so sorry, Olivia. It’s just that I’m so useless at this game.’
Helped by Richard and Dylan, Olivia got to her feet. There was blood on her chin. ‘I’m going to get cleaned up.’
‘Hang on, Olivia, just let me get this.’ Adam held up his mobile phone and took a picture of Olivia.
‘You fucker,’ she said.
Richard put an arm out. ‘Are you okay, Olivia? That looks bad.’
She knocked his arm away. ‘Get off me, I’ll be fine. I’m going to get cleaned up in the toilets. You better be buying a good lunch, Adam.’
Olivia traipsed off towards the concrete block of toilets at the other end of the beach.
Adam examined the screen. ‘Probably won’t use that. Maybe for a private member special,’ he said to no one in particular.
Meredith began to walk off the court but Adam grabbed hold of her arm. ‘Look at this, by the way.’
He showed her his mobile phone. It was The Squad’s Instagram feed and the picture was a heavily-filtered image of Meredith waiting to receive a serve on the beach volleyball court. Even she had to admit it: she looked amazing, athletic and supple with the afternoon sun at her back accentuating her lithe figure and making the specks of sand on her skin look like golden crystals. The look on her face was one of absolute focus and it made her look like she was a transcendent zen figure of pure flow.
At the time the photograph was taken she had been thinking, How do I get off this baking, sweaty, sand-filled hellhole? But the photograph made the experience look like the most fun in the world. Hell, it even made Meredith want to play volleyball again, something she knew she would never do.
‘That’s how you do it. It’s a magician’s trick. That’s not really me.’
Adam took this as a compliment. ‘I posted this twenty minutes ago. Check out the likes.’
There were over 650 alr
eady.
‘It doesn’t seem that many.’
Adam chuckled. ‘You don’t get it. At this rate this could end up being one of the most popular posts we have ever done.’
Adam must have seen something in her expression change. ‘Are you all right, Nancy? I should have asked you but I can take it down if you want?’
Meredith nodded and looked again at the image. It made her stomach twist with excitement and fear. Her image, and location on Instagram, and seen by God knows how many people by the end of the day. The text accompanying the image stated:
The newest member of the gang? We found her after ten years! Friends forever and a demon volleyball player, Welcome to Nancy!
Nancy. No one was looking for Nancy. What were the chances that her father’s relatives cared one jot? There was no one after her: it was just paranoia that had driven her around the globe. She was safe and now she had the chance to be something, to make something instead of drifting.
‘No, that’s fine. Keep it there. It’s just a bit of fun and I do look pretty good. You are a great photographer, Adam.’
Adam linked his arm with hers. ‘Come on. Let’s go and get lunch and make the right noises to calm Olivia. Congratulations, Nancy, you’re officially “talent” now.’
Olivia would be furious and this made Meredith smile.
11
The bed was nearly as big as her apartment room.
She lay, arms and legs splayed out, enjoying the sensation of comfort, coolness, and the security that only a €750-a-night room at Soho House can bring. It felt right and her mind felt at ease for the first time in months, maybe years. She realised now that this was what had been missing. Here she could focus on what she wanted and not scrabble around looking for scraps to just get by and survive, to pay the rent to buy shitty food. How could you concentrate on your inner well-being and growth as a person if you had no time or space to do it? And now here she was and she knew what she wanted. She wanted to stay here forever.
It was Adam’s idea, or so he thought, that she move into Amy’s suite: she may as well, as Amy wasn’t using it. She had told him all about her landlord problems and how they were distracting her from looking for Amy. When the penny had finally dropped, he had looked triumphant as he suggested it made perfect sense for her to move in as it was all paid for and would give her more time to look for Amy and to help them on the occasional photoshoot. Olivia had been talking to Dylan at the time and when Adam announced the fact that Meredith would be moving into the hotel with them her face had remained impassive but she had stared at Meredith with cool hard fury.
Lying on the bed Meredith determined to work hard on making Olivia like her. There was no reason why she shouldn’t – well, apart from the volleyball incident, but she had been provoked and perhaps it had been an accident after all. They were about the same age, were similarly well-read, and liked the same things. There was no reason for Olivia to see her as a threat as she was nothing of the sort. She just wanted to be like them. And if Olivia couldn’t or wouldn’t accept this then any unpleasantness could hardly be blamed on Meredith.
There was a knock on the door. It was room service. She tipped the porter with one of her last, crumpled five-euro notes and then sat on the bed looking in awe at the silver platter on which was fresh orange juice, a cortado, an egg white omelette, avocado toast and copies of La Vanguardia, El Periódico, El País, and The New Yorker.
But before she began to eat, she remembered what Adam had told her. Document everything: it’s all content. She reached across and picked up her mobile phone from the bedside cabinet and quickly took a bunch of snaps of the breakfast platter and then for good measure she walked to the floor-to-ceiling window that looked out across the Passeig de Colom. She opened it slightly and the heat hit her like a blast wave accompanied by a dry breeze that made the voile curtains twist and turn in a most romantic way. She then took off her robe so that she was just wearing a little silk slip and pants and then balanced the phone on the top of a chair and checked it was focussed on the window. She set the timer for ten seconds and ran over to the curtains.
She raised her right leg slightly and looked out of the window. Longingly, she thought. She knew this was a popular pose of Amy’s, looking longingly out of a hotel window. She heard the camera snap away and when it was finished, she checked the photographs. They were the same shots she had seen on Amy’s timeline and she knew once Adam had finished applying filters and working on them, they would look even better.
She sent them to Adam and then settled down to enjoy a breakfast she had been waiting for, for a long time.
Leaving her old apartment hadn’t been a pleasant experience – but what could you expect from Spider and the rest of them. She had told them she was going on holiday for a while and Spider had told her that he would have to sub-let her room. She had just shrugged as she knew he would say this and there was no use arguing with him. Then she had slapped a big padlock on her door so he couldn’t access her room. He called her a ‘real shit’ and stormed off to the lounge to get furiously high. Inga had seemed upset and had hugged her, which Meredith found strange as she didn’t think of herself as friends with the Swedish girl, but she had hugged her back and told her she wouldn’t be away for more than a couple of weeks. She had decided to leave her €5,000 under the floorboards and not take it to the hotel. It occurred to her that Olivia could lock her out of the hotel room at any time with a quick word to reception. So, it seemed wiser to leave the money where she could guarantee access. She didn’t think Spider and his stoned cronies had it in them to break down her door and search her apartment but she was sure it was safe there even if they did. They hadn’t the first idea of how to use the fridge, never mind a screwdriver.
After breakfast, she took the most luxurious shower she had ever had, got dressed and went upstairs to meet Adam. He was waiting for her at a table by the pool. It was shaded by a large canvas umbrella and there were pastries and a coffee pot on the table. He didn’t look up from his mobile phone when she sat down.
His thumbs moved quickly, and then when he was satisfied, he looked up.
‘Nancy! How was the room? Pretty good, hey?’
She agreed but didn’t say that it was the best place she had ever stayed. She had already noticed the habit of Richard, Olivia and Dylan, and the other Instagrammers, which was not to be enthusiastic about material things. Enthusing about the natural world was fine but not cars, hotel room and brands. That was for a sub-set of more vulgar, often Eastern European or Middle Eastern influencers, the kind who posed next to private jets or with their pet cheetahs. The Squad’s angle, not unique, was friendship, good times, and authenticity.
‘I love the fact that they only use natural, organic materials,’ said Meredith.
Adam didn’t appear to hear her: he was back looking at his phone. ‘So, listen, change of plan today. The photoshoot with Richard and Dylan, I’m sticking you on the back burner for that.’
Meredith felt something in her stomach twist and turn. ‘Okay,’ she said quietly.
‘Here she is,’ said Adam.
‘Move over, Adski.’
Meredith turned round and saw Olivia approaching.
Adam compliantly moved along to let Olivia squeeze in next to him.
Olivia smiled at Meredith. ‘I’m guessing that Adam has mentioned we want you to concentrate on finding Amy and getting her to come back. We thought it made more sense to focus on what we are all here for. So, we will have to stand around all day, in this heat’ – she mimed a fan – ‘being bloody human mannequins, and you get to have all the fun running around this lovely city looking for Amy. How’s that going by the way?’
Meredith glanced out towards the sea and then down to the street. It was maybe seventy feet below them and any fall from here would be fatal.
‘Nancy?’
She turned back and smiled at Olivia because she knew that Olivia hated her smile. It was because Olivia’s smile fooled no one
, not like hers, which had been forged in the harshest of environments. ‘Of course, I was just about to tell Adam I couldn’t make the shoot as I have to meet a lead who knows Ferran.’
Olivia clapped her hands and then threw an arm around Adam. ‘That’s great news! We’ll have you back in your old life in no time!’
Adam looked a little sheepish. Last night, after a bottle of Rioja, he had been full of promises of sponsorship deals and branding tie-ins, and had said he would spend the day setting up her social media channels. ‘Yeah, I think that’s a great idea, Olly. It also gives me some time to set up Nancy’s social media accounts today.’ Adam fiddled with his phone and didn’t look directly at Meredith.
Olivia reached in and grabbed a croissant from the table. ‘Don’t let us hold you up. I know you must be keen to get started,’ she said, and then bit into the croissant.
Meredith wanted to reply but the weight of Olivia’s words and her triumphant expression crushed her ability to speak as she knew her voice would falter, crack and let her down. She recalled similar occasions as a child when she thought she had ingratiated herself with other children – something would always happen; they would be cruel, mock her thrift-store clothes or the fact that her mother was dead, and each time she never saw the blow coming and the shock rendered her speechless. At school she had recoiled from the insults but never forgave them, planning and then taking revenge, that eventually led to her expulsion after she placed a dead rat in Kristy Nichol’s gym bag for saying in front of the whole class that ‘Meredith has no friends because Meredith’s mother is in hell as are all sinners who violate God’s law and kill themselves’. She found herself struck as dumb as she had been back when she was a child, knowing that there was an answer, a form of words that if only she could find them, would make her accepted, would make her right, would make her loved. But the words didn’t come. They never came.
How to Kill Your Friends Page 8