by C. A. Larmer
“You’re going to let that bastard get away with it?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Nico.”
“I know that there was a man on a ferry. I just spoke to Catalina. A longtime local. She told me.”
Millie looked away, reaching for the edge of the balcony.
“I know you got off with him and he…” He took a deep breath, still trying to digest the shocking news himself. “I know he hurt you, Millie, and I’m so, so sorry about that.”
She was now swaying, and he stepped towards her, but she held a hand up. That hand said back away. So he did but he couldn’t seem to stop the words that were flowing from his mouth even though he knew they must be painful to hear, even after all these years.
“I know that bastard left you for dead on the beach near here. I know it happened a long time ago but—”
“Exactly!” she said, turning back to him. “It happened a long time ago. I’m over it.”
“No, you’re not.”
Her jaw dropped, she shook her head. “How do you know that?”
“Because I’m looking at you, and you have so much pain.”
“You have no idea what I’m feeling or who the hell you’re looking at.”
“Let me help you find him—”
“He’s not here! The monster has gone. That’s the end of it.”
“It doesn’t have to be!”
“It does! For me to survive it does!” She had palms up in the air as if pushing him away. “I can’t be here anymore, I’m sorry… I just can’t…” She went to walk past him, but he held his ground.
“Why didn’t you tell me about what happened to you? I thought we had a connection—”
“A connection?”
“Yes, you and me, on the boat to Zoe’s.”
“That was a conversation,” she said as he took a step back. “That’s all it was, Nico, just a conversation.”
“That’s how you see it? That’s how you see the past few days?”
“That’s how I’ve learned to see life.” She dropped her head to the side. “You’re such a dreamer, Nicholas.”
“And what are you then?”
Her head straightened. “Oh I shed my dreams a long time ago.”
“Really? Then what are you doing here in Sarisi?”
She looked away.
“You’re full of shit, Millie. There was something there, between us. I felt it, you felt it—”
“No, you just wished there was something there, it’s not the same thing.”
She saw him flinch. Now she knew she was hurting him. Now she couldn’t seem to stop. “I’m sorry, Nico, I know it sounds cruel, but life is cruel. Surely you’re old enough to have worked that one out by now. Don’t read so much into everything.”
“I didn’t read anything into it. I thought you and I… I thought it was…” He stopped, looking for the words, and now she almost laughed.
“Fate?” she said, loading the word with sarcasm. “Destiny? Not everything happens for a reason, Nicholas, have you not learned that by now? Did you seriously think it was our destiny to meet on Sarisi?”
He slumped, whispered, “Maybe.”
She shook her head sadly and brushed past him to go inside.
When she reached the doorway, she turned back and said, “Sorry to burst your bubble, Nico, but we’re just two people who met on a boat and had a conversation.”
Nicholas stood out on the balcony for many minutes, feeling once again like he’d been slapped. No, worse than that, pummelled. Beaten to a pulp. What an idiot he’d been. What a classic fool. He swallowed painfully and brushed his hair back, then took many deep breaths before he ventured inside.
Millie was still there, now seated on the bed, her bag zipped up, the beanie in her hands. He stepped towards her, reaching into his pocket.
“There was a guy,” he said softly as he pulled something out. It was a scrap of paper with words scribbled across it. He dropped it to the bed, adding, “There was a witness.”
And he left it at that.
EVE
By the time she returned to the publishing house on Monday afternoon, Monty’s mood had gone from bleak relief to breathless rage. At first she was happy to know her friend was okay, but now she was feeling both bitter and betrayed.
How dare Amelia do this to her again! How could she? After everything they’d been through? How could she simply take off for Greece without a word, not offer her so much as an explanation, then expect her to sit around and pick up the pieces. They were supposed to be friends, they were supposed to be equals, so why couldn’t Amelia trust her with the truth? Why all the stupid secrecy?
“You need to focus on Eve now,” Beryl had said, “and she needs to find herself.”
Fuck her and fuck Eve, she thought as she rode the elevator up.
Once more it was all about Amelia, no thought for anybody else and what they were going through. What had Thomas said last week? Something about her cleaning up after Millie again.
Not anymore, she thought. Never again.
As soon as she reached the office, she headed straight for the interior wall and began pulling at the photocopied issue, ripping the pages and grunting loudly as she did it.
“You okay, Monty?” This was Hank, standing behind her, eyebrows wedged together.
“I’m so sick of this bloody magazine,” she spat back. “I don’t want to see it anymore!”
He thought she was just referring to that particular issue. “I don’t blame you. That was the monster month from hell. Want me to help?”
She stopped. “No, why don’t you take the rest of the day off, Hank, you’ve earned it.” Then she turned and pulled him into a hug. “Thank you for everything. You’ve been such a loyal friend.”
He drew back and looked at her like she’d gone a little nuts, then smiled sheepishly and said, “Okay, well, thanks, I guess.” Then he hesitated before asking, “Do you maybe want to go get some lunch or a drink or something?”
Monty didn’t notice the catch in his voice and swept back to the wall saying, “No, thanks, honey. You go have fun!” as she kept pulling and ripping and throwing scraps of paper in a nearby recycling bin.
She also didn’t catch the look of dejection as he loped away.
It was only when Monty got to a glossy, double-page advertisement that she stopped and focused. It was the ad Angus had taken out for his digital technology company and he was right, it wasn’t Eve’s usual run of designer fashion and obscenely priced accessories. But he’d paid top dollar for that front-of-book space, and she wondered now why he would do that. It didn’t make good business sense.
Good Lord, she thought as the penny dropped. He’s still got a crush on her! Angus Tower is trying to win Amelia back!
Well, fuck her! Monty abandoned the wall and pulled out her mobile phone. She’s not here is she, so now he’s fair game.
What else had both Beryl and Thomas said? Something about moving on and living her own life?
“I’ll move on all right,” she said aloud now, causing several colleagues to swap worried glances. She charged back to her desk and rifled through the silver handbag she’d dumped there days ago until she found Angus’s business card. She tapped the number into her phone before her nerves caught up with her.
“Angus Tower, who is this?”
Her breath caught. She had not expected him to pick up. “Hey, Angus, it’s Monty.” Then, because he didn’t say anything, she quickly added, “Monty Brennan.” And scrunched her eyes shut, hoping she didn’t have to add more.
“Oh, Monty! What a surprise. Nice to hear from you. How did you wash up the other night?”
“Bit seedy, actually!” She giggled. “One too many Proseccos!” Then remembering his heady aftershave and his smooth demeanour and, most of all, Alex’s insinuation that she was a washed-up spinster, she said, “Speaking of drinks, do you—”
“And how’s Sillie Millie going?” he said, cutting in.
>
“Sorry, what?”
“She finally back in the hot seat?” Before she could answer, he said, “I hope so because she owes me a dinner at least. We’ve put a big ad spend on your title this month.”
“Yes, I saw that.” She slunk into her chair, wishing she hadn’t made this call, feeling like a fool. “Um, no, she’s not back yet, but she will be, so…”
“Really? Because Wilson didn’t sound so convinced.”
“Wilson?”
“Yeah, Thomas. He called yesterday, said you’d been to see him. Said something strange about Millie vanishing again. What’s that about?”
“Oh, no, she’s just away. On holidays.” Chasing down Greek guys she wanted to say but couldn’t find her mean streak.
“That’s a relief. I thought he was being melodramatic, but then you know how freaked out he got last time.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know he never really settled down after that trip, not like the rest of us anyway.” She rolled her eyes at that. If only he knew. “To be honest, I don’t think he ever got over having his heart ripped to shreds.”
She felt herself flush. “I didn’t mean to hurt Thomas, honestly I didn’t.”
There was another pause, an embarrassed laugh. “No, Monty, I’m not talking about you. I’m talking about Millie.”
“Millie?”
“You didn’t notice?”
Something heavy seemed to settle in the bottom of her stomach. “Millie?”
“He had a major crush on her. It was pretty obvious.” He chuckled. “Look, don’t take this the wrong way, but we both had a thing for Millie at the start, when we met in Rome. You must have seen that. But then she chose me and he was a bit pissed off at first, but he’s a mate, right, so he let it go.”
And he reached out to me, Monty thought, suddenly feeling queasy.
“Anyway, I got my comeuppance in the end. She ran off with that Greek bloke and I was left all alone.”
No you weren’t, you bastard! She wanted to scream. You were left with me!
They hadn’t just had a fling. They returned to London together and went out for six weeks before his eyes strayed elsewhere and she was tossed on the scrap heap. It was exactly as Thomas had predicted that very first night they all met up.
“Chicks always fall for Angus,” he’d told the two girls. “But he’s a flake, quickly moves on to the next one.”
She’d called Thomas jealous then, but she hadn’t meant it, not really.
“So Thomas had a crush on Millie, hey?” For some reason she was not surprised.
“More than a crush, he was like a man obsessed. So furious when she took off, like it was him who’d been rejected.” He snorted. “Reckons he’s over it now, but I’ve got my doubts. He still has her book, so it makes you wonder…”
“Book?”
“Yeah that loopy Prophecy one, you know the one she lived by back then. At least he had it last time I dropped over.”
Monty reached a hand to her throat as he added, almost flippantly, “I told Millie all of this. At that Apple launch. She’d seemed a bit shocked to hear about you and me, so I told her she should get that book back off Thomas and read it again—remind herself about fate and destiny and how everything happens for a reason. You know, all that crap she used to believe in.”
“Except she doesn’t believe it anymore,” Monty said, her voice barely audible.
“Sorry?” he said; then she heard a mumble in the background. “Look, I’ve got to go. It’s been nice catching up and tell that runaway editor that I want to hear from her when she gets back.”
With that, the line went dead and Monty was left staring at the receiver, frozen with thought. Her stomach in knots, her mind racing.
A book.
A crush.
A brutal rape.
She leapt to her feet, flung her phone into her handbag and then glanced around for her jacket.
Stupid, stupid Beryl! Believing her daughter was safe in Greece. But was she? Was she really? No one had seen her since Saturday. Had she ever even left the country?
Monty pulled her jacket on and headed for the exit.
“You off again?” this was Fleur, her hands overloaded with last month’s fashion bagged and ready to return.
“Yes! Hold my calls. Except for Millie!”
“Millie?”
She shook her head. “I mean Amelia! If she calls—God, I hope she calls—tell her to call my mobile immediately.”
Then she bolted for the elevator.
TOM
Scarlett knew Tom would be on the warpath. Felt guilty that she’d dobbed him in to the Shepperdin police.
“But he was cheating on her, Harry,” she told her husband as they sat at the table that night, the remains of dinner scattered around them. “I saw that woman slink out of his house. It made my blood run cold.”
The children had all been excused, most of them now tumbling about in the family room, the TV blaring some cartoon or another, a stereo popping from somewhere deep within the house, the older ones in their bedrooms, hooked to screens no doubt.
“Still, Scar,” Harry said, picking up the bottle of Shiraz to replenish their glasses. “You promised me you wouldn’t say anything. You’d let me get to the bottom of it first.”
“And I wasn’t going to, you know that! But then Polly told me about Belinda and the creepy way he was with her and I—”
“Jesus, Scar.”
“Sorry, but apparently he made Belinda have sex out in the backyard, where the kids play for goodness’ sake! Among her boy’s plastic buckets. I mean, that’s weird, honey. That’s just wrong.”
“What’s wrong is Geoff telling his wife any of this. That was a confidential police interview. Jenny should not be gossiping about it with the school mums.”
“Jenny doesn’t normally gossip, honey, but she was upset. She’s the only one who’s ever stood up for that bastard, so she felt betrayed. I think she needed to vent, and Polly was there.”
“Doesn’t matter. Geoff shouldn’t have said anything to her; she shouldn’t have said anything to Polly. Jesus what a pack of gossips! Besides, he probably only did it outside so he wouldn’t desecrate Belinda’s bed or something.”
She raised an eyebrow at him, then whipped a hand out to grab a young boy who was toddling through the kitchen, naked and laughing. She gave him a hug, patted his little bottom and sent him on his way. “It’s just sick.”
“That’s my brother you’re talking about, babe. He’s family. I can’t believe you said anything.”
“And so is Amy! So is Phil. They’re your family too. I can’t believe you said nothing.” Then she snapped her head around and screamed, “Bethy! That television’s too loud!”
The sound instantly dropped, and she turned back to her husband.
“How do we know he hasn’t cheated before? How do we know it’s not all because of him?”
Harry knew what she was talking about, but he kept shaking his head. “You would know, love. You’ve been watching him like a hawk for years. Waiting for exactly that.”
“That’s not fair.”
“True though, yeah?” He kicked her foot under the table, trying to give her a small smile, but Scarlett was still feeling tense. She was worried and not just for herself.
Harry said, “I know you’ve never warmed to him.”
“Not only me! The kids all think he’s weird. Your own father wrote him out of the will for goodness’ sake.”
“That had nothing to do with him being weird. He was a traitor.”
“I know, because he left for Sydney University, got too high and mighty.” It had become the family mantra.
“It went further than that.”
“I don’t care. He is an oddball. There’s something not quite right about your brother, and Amy knew it. She never said it to me, she was too damn loyal, but I could tell. I really hope she did leave him, and I hope she’s far, far away.”
He
frowned, realising he hoped that, too, but for very different reasons. He glanced out the kitchen window, towards Tom’s house, which sat dark and foreboding just beyond the bushes. He sighed. His hope turned to a feeling of desperation.
“Let’s keep our distance for a bit, hey?” he said. “Let’s keep the kids in our yard from now on. Just don’t give him any more reason to be grumpy with us.”
“They don’t like going over there anyway. You know that. Apart from his pristine sandpit, there’s nothing there for them now. Phil’s in Sydney, and I hope he stays there for a bit, safe and sound with his nana.” She reached for the dirty dishes and began to gather them up. “I feel for that poor kid. He loved his mum so, so much. That’s what’s got me worried. If she did take off, why didn’t she take Phil?” She stood up and stared at the plates. “What if she doesn’t come back, Harry? What will happen to him?”
He frowned. “My brother will look after Phil, of course. Jesus, Scarlett. He might be a weirdo and a lousy husband, but he’s a good father. Jesus.”
She nodded, taking the plates across to the sink. But she did not believe him.
For his part, Harry didn’t notice her insincere nod. He was lost in his own thoughts.
There was something Scarlett had said, something that sounded so out of character for his brother…
He tried to shake off a growing sense of unease.
***
Tom saw the lights twinkling in Harry’s house. Heard the TV blaring, a base sound beating from a back bedroom, a kid calling out to another kid, a woman screaming for them all to shut up.
A happy family, he supposed. He was no expert at that.
His own father had disowned him many years ago, long before he went to Sydney to get that wasted business degree. It had nothing to do with him getting above his station and everything to do with his mother. The moment his mum had shot off his dad seemed to turn on him, like it was all his fault.
And perhaps he was right.
Of both sons, Tom was the mummy’s boy, Linda’s favourite, although not mummy’s boy enough to keep mummy at home. He’d let them all down. His dad was right. And now he’d let Phil down too.
Couldn’t keep a mother. Couldn’t keep a wife.
