by Kitty Sewell
‘No,’ said Eva. ‘Tell me now.’
‘What the hell!’ Sebastian said and took a large slurp from his wine glass. ‘Well, you see, I killed a guy when I was eighteen. I ran him over with my car. I squashed his head like a pumpkin.’
Eva looked shocked. ‘Oh, my God, Sebastian.’
‘It was an accident, of course, but I knew the guy. I’ve got to live with what I did, but after what happened I can never drive again. You can understand that, can’t you?’
Eva pulled her chair up close to his and put her arms around him, and he leaned his head on her shoulder. ‘Yes, of course I understand,’ she said lovingly. ‘Poor darling…and you’ve kept this horror to yourself.’
‘Oh, for fuck’s sake!’ Mimi blurted furiously, taking even herself unawares. Sebastian stayed where he was, pretending not to have heard, while Eva stared at her with an indignant, questioning expression. ‘Let’s get this guy home,’ Mimi decreed.
Eva began to try to get the attention of their waiter so they could pay their bill and go. It was hopeless. ‘I’ll go inside and pay,’ she said.
As soon as she’d disappeared into the interior of the restaurant, Mimi slapped Sebastian on the arm and hissed. ‘What the hell’s going on with you?’
‘What do you mean?’ he slurred.
‘That accident never happened, and you know it. You never killed that guy, you never even got near him.’
He glared at her. ‘Yes, I did. Telling me I didn’t was a coverup.’
‘No bloody way. There was no coverup.’
‘You were just a foetus in your mother’s womb. What do you know?’
‘I know everything about it. Dad told me. He had to explain many a thing to me, even though I was too young to be burdened with it.’
‘Let me tell you the real story,’ Sebastian said, jabbing his forefinger at her. ‘Everybody tried to get me to believe I hadn’t done it, just so I could get better and come out of hospital. Back then they thought denial was the best therapy.’
‘I cannot believe I’m hearing you say this,’ she said through clenched teeth. ‘I’m going to fucking find the guy and get him to Skype you, so you can see his living face for yourself. You never hurt a hair on his head. You weren’t even near him. How much time and energy has gone into getting you to realise it?’ She sat back and shook her head. ‘You yourself admitted it’d been a fantasy… Something’s not right with you. It’s about time you told Eva, you know? Lay all your cards on the table. If you don’t, I will.’
Sebastian seemed to sober up in an instant. ‘Don’t even think of it,’ he said aggressively. ‘She’ll leave me. That’s what you’re aiming for, isn’t it? You’ve been doing your best to get rid of her since the day you arrived.’
Mimi shook her head vigorously. ‘That’s not fair. Eva and I are getting on just fine now. She’s cool. Really. I like her. But I don’t know why you don’t just tell her. She’ll understand. She needs to know.’
‘Jesus Christ! Can I please have one single person in my life who doesn’t have preconceived ideas about me, who’s not judging me by my past?’
‘She wouldn’t judge you. She’s not that kind of person.’
‘She wouldn’t judge me, perhaps, but her whole view of me would alter.’ He put his head in his hands and hissed though his fingers, ‘Can you please allow me to be the person I am to her? Don’t you see, it’s the model I live up to. It keeps me sane.’
She backed down. Perhaps he was right, and anyway, who understood the feeling better? She herself loathed to be judged by who she was yesterday. She suspected Eva too was running from something. So, when Eva came towards them, she tried to smile. It had been a pretty good birthday, after all.
Eva
They sat down on Jonny Risso’s shabby seat-cushions, made even grubbier by a group of Norwegian fishermen that had commandeered his boat for over a week. Squashed beer cans spilled over the edges of a bucket, and Jonny himself looked rough.
Eva leaned towards Brian and whispered. ‘Be careful what you say. He’s quite capable of organising an expedition so that he can cash in on it himself.’
‘Got ya,’ Brian said, nodding.
‘Sebastian is not happy about this, so if you meet him, don’t speak of it, please.’
Brian seemed to consider her statement. ‘Okay, but I think I’ll be going with your view on it. In fact, we’ll have no choice but to report it, sooner rather than later.’
Eva glanced at Jonny, but he was busy starting his boat up.
‘So the uber-worker didn’t want to join us?’ Brian asked.
‘Don’t be cheeky,’ she said with a frown.
‘The only time I’ve met him – when we ran into each other in town – he scowled at me as though I was plotting to abscond with his woman.’
‘I didn’t notice. He’s often got that face on him these days, but he doesn’t mean to be rude.’
‘You’re going to have to tell him we’ve been here,’ Brian said, then indicated Jonny with a tilt of his head. ‘Or he will.’
Jonny finally got his engine started up, and the sudden motion made her gag a little, a reminder of Mimi’s birthday dinner. It had been a good evening. Everyone had been on form, perhaps due to the sheer amount of alcohol they’d consumed. Mimi seemed to have grown an inch in just one day, and she herself had recaptured her loving relationship with Sebastian. His easy laugh had made her conscious of how he’d not really been himself for weeks. He’d been troubled about the project, going off on tunnel expeditions on his own, at times rambling about his damned bridge, and obsessing about Mimi’s relationship with Montegriffo. Finding out that his ‘fiancée’ was a married woman had been yet another blow.
Hopefully, now that Mimi was eighteen, he could let go of her a little. By now she had realised that Mimi and Sebastian shared all kinds of secrets. One of them seemed to have something to do with the medication Mimi had hinted at. It would come as no surprise if Sebastian was on antidepressants. He was so intense and obsessional, it was probably just what he needed. Why hide it? She’d been on them herself, more than once. It was nothing to be ashamed of.
Jonny steered them past Catalan Bay, its sandy beach obscured by hundreds of parasols in vivid colour. Caleta Hotel sat on its southern end, perched on a cliff overhanging the water. A stretch of rocky shore followed and then the strange little community called Both Worlds. It was a long, narrow strip of housing above its own little beach. Between Catalan Bay and Both Worlds, the coastline was topped by a curious natural phenomenon, a massive slope, smooth and even, as if God had poured a fistful of sand down the precipice. Above it arose the soaring cliffs of the Rock.
Her eyes searched up and down the shoreline, trying to visually superimpose the Frontiers Development Project on its southern end. For the first time, she couldn’t do it. The place was too beautiful, it’s natural ruggedness and dramatic backdrop too spectacular, somehow. Instantly she felt disloyal. She never doubted Sebastian’s creative brilliance. He was an uber-genius…but so was God!
‘Look at it,’ she exclaimed, nudging Brian’s arm. ‘What an amazingly beautiful place this is.’
‘I was just thinking exactly the same thing,’ he said. ‘You know, I was mostly in favour of Sebastian’s concept, but I think we’re destroying Gibraltar with this endless development.’
Jonny swerved sharply and turned his engine off. They drifted shoreward for a while, slowly coming to a stop. Jonny plopped his anchor in.
They left an ill-humoured Jonny Risso to his radio and his rollup cigarettes. Eva swam ahead, leading the way. If it wasn’t for the markers that Sebastian’s team had left on the cliffside, the little window to the cave would be practically impossible to detect. She checked with Brian before entering, and he nodded vigorously. She could tell; he too was excited. They swam through the opening, through the forest of stalagmites, stalactites and columns, into the gigantic cavern where the water was clear as air and they were flying over a landscape of colossal
shards and slivers. They lingered there for a time. After swimming up through the halo-cline they finally broke surface.
‘What an extraordinary place,’ Brian exclaimed. ‘Clever girl! What a find!’ He looked up and lit up the roof with his torch beam.
‘What did I tell you?’
‘Let’s not waste any time. Where do we get up on this ledge?’
She pointed to a corner where the ledge was lower, almost at the waterline.
He swam towards it. ‘Let me get up first and I’ll pull you out.’
It was a bit more tricky than it had appeared but nothing was going to stop them now. All the while, Eva was aware of what a special experience this could turn out to be and she was sorry that she’d kept it from Sebastian. Perhaps this whole expedition was unwise, not least because Sebastian would be extremely unhappy about it. Their fragile reconciliation needed no further knocks.
They took off their gear and took several deep breaths. The air was good, alpine fresh. Where did it come from?
‘Right,’ she said, bracing herself for what they might encounter. ‘Let’s see where the back of this cave ends.’ She laughed nervously. ‘What if we find a Neanderthal? I’ll faint.’
‘Relax, petal, I’m good at mouth to mouth.’
‘I bet.’
‘What’s that?’ Brian took a step forward and knelt down to illuminate something with his torch.
She barely dared to approach and waited for him to say more.
He didn’t take his eyes off whatever it was, but motioned to her with his arm. ‘Come and look at this.’
Excited, she went up to him and bent low, shining her own light on the object where it nestled in a crevice. Yes, there was no doubt about what it was.
A half-smoked cigarette butt.
Mimi
She’d been messing around with her hair all morning, selfishly occupying the bathroom. No matter what she tried, nothing looked right. In the end she opted for curly. It made her look more feminine, something a mature man would probably most appreciate. She used some heated rollers that she found at the back of the bathroom cabinet that probably had belonged to Mrs. Cohen. She checked the result in the mirror. It still looked funny, with the sides so short. Perhaps it was time for a change. Her kinky hair had been gawped at enough to last her a while.
On her way back from the bathroom she ran into Sebastian. He looked her over with a puzzled expression.
‘You look different,’ he said. ‘Sort of feminine.’
‘Yuck, no way,’ she said. ‘I’m a bad-ass.’
‘Yeah,’ he said, ruffling the curls. ‘Go sort yourself out. Someone might take you for a nice girl.’
‘Aren’t you late for work?’
He kissed her on the cheek and headed for the door, his briefcase under his arm. Mimi went back to her room to tackle the problem of what to wear. Thankfully she had rinsed out the dress she’d worn last night; it was the best she had. Her makeup took ages. She debated for some time whether to squeeze a spot or not – didn’t in the end – and she nicked her leg shaving.
It was time to catch the taxi so she left the apartment and headed down the stairs, then flinched in surprise when Sebastian stepped out of the shadows in the ground-floor hallway. He must have been waiting there since leaving the apartment, or returned, acting on a hunch.
He looked her up and down, noting the dress, shoes and makeup.
‘Where are you going?’ he said.
‘Why are you lurking here?’
‘What are you up to, Mimi? Why are you dressed up?’
‘Listen, I can’t stop,’ she said. ‘I’ve got a taxi waiting. You know how it is, they just move on if you’re not there to jump straight in.’
He took her by the arm to restrain her. ‘Where is this taxi taking you?’
‘Oh, for God’s sake. I’m in a hurry. Don’t hassle me.’
‘I’m not letting you go. I ran into Montegriffo on my way out. He looked suspiciously smug. When I asked him, he said he was going to his retreat in Both Worlds.’
‘What’s that got to do with me?’ She shrugged with feigned irritation.
‘Because that’s where you’re going too, isn’t it?’
She whipped her arm out of his grasp. ‘What if I am? I’m eighteen years old, Sebastian. Carlo has invited me for lunch, and I’m going.’
He tried to block her way and they grappled for a moment. She couldn’t believe they’d come to this. He held her firmly by the arms and stared her in the face. ‘You live under my roof, you eat and shower and occupy the biggest bedroom. You’ll bloody-well abide by my rules. You’re not going to Both Worlds to have sexual congress with that Bible-thumping pervert.’
‘Who’s the pervert?’ she hissed. ‘You have no business even speculating about what I might do or not do. If you want me to, I’ll move out.’
He dropped her arms. ‘No, Mimi, you can’t do that.’
‘Oh, Sebastian. Come on…let’s not fight.’ She lowered her voice. ‘You gave me a very special birthday and I appreciate it massively, and I love you to bits, but you’ve got to stop controlling my life and begin to deal with your own stuff. You’ve got some huge problem going on, that’s becoming obvious. I sure as hell hope you’re taking your pills. We’ve been here all summer and I bet you’ve not signed up with any doctor or attended any clinic. If you don’t want to tell Eva, at least go back to London and see Dr. Matthews. Just take care of it, or you’re in danger of fucking up your relationship and your work and everything.’ He stared at her. ‘You hear me, bro?’
When he didn’t answer, she put a hand on his cheek and looked him in the eye. ‘Come on, now. Why don’t you come with me? Both Worlds is on the way to your site. You can drop me off.’
‘And deliver you to that creep myself. Never!’
‘Suit yourself.’
She ran out of the hall, past an astonished-looking Moroccan woman who’d been sweeping the ramp and had probably heard the whole interaction.
Traffic in town was murder. Too many planes were landing, so cars and pedestrians were stopped from crossing the runway. The backup caused a tension-filled congestion in town. The temperatures were soaring. Finally, her taxi hit Devil’s Tower Road, leading out of the town centre along the east side.
The road was narrow between the sea and the slope of the old water catchment, so the driver had to drop her off in a layby. She walked self-consciously towards her destination. The row of tiny white chalets looked careworn up close, yet their setting was spectacular. She finally found the right entrance and chose amongst the doorbells. The door buzzed open and Carlo instructed her through the intercom which way to go.
The door was ajar and she walked in without knocking. In a small living room, on a leather sofa, Carlo sat waiting for her. She noted that his retreat-wear was different from his town look: he was actually wearing shorts and a vest from which thin, long legs and arms protruded. He jumped up and came to her, kissing her on both cheeks.
‘You look exceptionally beautiful,’ he said, holding her hands in his and settling his large liquid eyes on hers for a long moment. ‘Let me get you a drink. I’ve got gin, vodka, rum, wine and beer plus an array of mixers. And champagne, of course. But I thought we might leave that to have with lunch.’
Mimi had a snoop around the apartment while Carlo mixed the drinks in a tiny kitchen. There was a fabulous little terrace, right over the beach, a nice marble bathroom and a closed door which had to be a bedroom.
‘Let’s sit outside,’ said Carlos, bearing a tray.
They sat down in the two cane chairs. The drinks and a bowl of mixed nuts were on a little table. The usually relaxed air between them had morphed into awkwardness. She took a big gulp of her drink. It was vodka all right, or nine-tenths of it was. Within seconds it had gone to her head and she realised she’d not eaten a thing all morning.
‘Do you own this place?’ she asked.
‘Yes. I have my writing to thank for it. The down-payment was t
he advance for a poetry collection.’
‘Really? So writing sometimes actually pays.’
‘Yours will,’ he said. ‘You have a future there.’
She laughed. ‘Flattery will get you nowhere. But give me your worst. How do you think I’m getting on with it?’
An hour later, they were still talking about writing and she had another drink in her hand. It felt good, and any tension had evaporated in a haze of vodka, helped by the dappled sunlight and the sounds of the sea. Groups of gulls swooped in and out over the building and she watched an ape having a nap on a terrace further down while its baby bounced around like a rubber ball, playing with thin air, as kittens do.
‘Let me ask you something about Mrs. Cohen,’ she said.
‘Nothing gruesome, please,’ he warned.
She bit her lip: best to begin with something neutral. ‘She played the violin, didn’t she?’
‘Yes, how did you know? Is that her violin I’m hearing sometimes?’
‘Maybe,’ she said, trying an enigmatic smile.
‘No end to your talents, Imogen. Well, Esther was a real virtuoso. When her husband went to work in the mornings, she would begin to play and sometimes she played all day. But the music she played was so haunting it used to really affect me. She made it up.’
