Then. Now. Always.

by Isabelle Broom

  Theo pulls away gently and our eyes meet.

  ‘Will you stay here with me tonight?’ he asks, posing it as a question for once.

  It would be so nice, I think, to simply lie in the comfort of his embrace and enjoy more of those kisses, but the fact is I have somewhere more important to be.

  ‘I wish I could,’ I tell him, giving him one final and lingering kiss. ‘But I have some amends I really need to make.’

  He grins in bemusement as I wriggle back into my still-damp dress and brazenly pinch one of his shirts from the wardrobe to wear over the top, rolling up the cuffs as I button it up.

  ‘They are lucky to have you, Hannah,’ he tells me. ‘I hope you know that.’

  I pause at the door.

  ‘Who?’ I ask, allowing myself one last look at those broad, tanned shoulders, that tangle of black curls.

  He smiles at me then, and I know that I’ll never forget this exact moment.

  ‘All of them,’ he says. ‘Every single one.’

  34

  I know something is wrong before I even reach the apartment. There’s a stillness to the air that hints at disquiet, as if a huge amount of noise has just occurred and stirred the dust up until it’s hanging limply in the darkness.

  Silence can be so loud. Until this moment, I had no idea just how much comfort I’d been taking from all those familiar little noises – the sound of my sandals on the warm paving stones, the hum of the cicadas nestled in the surrounding plants, and the faint buzz of the mopeds driving along the coastal road below. Even the distant throb of music drifting down from the bars far above me was soothing. Everything was as it should have been as I made my way up the hill; nothing out of the ordinary was happening.

  Inside the apartment, however, it’s a completely different story.

  There are no lights on, and the first thing I see is the broken pieces of the large hallway mirror – actually, I feel them, crunching unpleasantly between the bottom of my shoes and the tiled floor.

  I want to call out her name, but a halting hand of fear prevents me, so instead I take a deep breath and edge forwards over the shards of glass as quietly as possible. It’s dark, but the moon must be shining through the front windows, because the patterned tiles ahead of me are dappled with smudges of grey.

  ‘Hannah?’

  It’s barely a whisper, but it startles me so much that I scream. Scanning the floor in the half-darkness, I make out the huddled shape of a small person in the far corner. There’s a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, which are shaking, and her knees are pulled up under her chin.

  ‘What the hell is going on?’ I croak. My voice sounds unfamiliar, as if the top layer has been scraped off.

  Silence.

  Stepping carefully over what was once a mobile phone, I make my way over to the tightly folded shape and crouch down slowly on to my haunches.

  ‘What happened, Nancy?’ I whisper. ‘Why are you sitting like this in the dark?’

  A muffled squeak comes out from beneath the blanket.

  ‘Did Carlos or Ignacio turn up uninvited again?’ I ask, my hands on her shoulders, but my eyes up and alert.

  ‘No.’ It’s barely audible.

  ‘Is there anyone else in the apartment?’ I whisper, trying to make my voice as quiet as it can go. I can’t detect the sound of anyone else, but I’m confused as to what could have happened that was bad enough to make her end up down here on the floor.

  Nancy’s head under the blanket turns from side to side.

  That means we’re safe, at least. Resting backwards on my heels, I finally let out a breath and cough away the petrification that’s lodged itself in my throat.

  ‘I’m going to turn the lights on.’

  ‘No!’ Two hands shoot out and grab my wrists.

  The heart-thumping anxiety I experienced in the hallway is refusing to let go.

  ‘Who broke the mirror?’ I ask, folding back the blanket with my still-anchored hands. Nancy’s face is a mess of tears and wet strands of hair are stuck all over her forehead.

  ‘It was—’ She stops, giving in to more tears.

  ‘Come on.’ I gently peel away her fingers from around my wrists and put a stiff arm around her. ‘I won’t be angry, I promise – I just need to know.’

  ‘Tom.’

  ‘What about Tom?’

  There is no way that Tom did this.

  ‘Talk to Tom,’ she says, her voice muffled by my shoulder. ‘Tom was here. He was here with me and …’

  ‘Why the hell would Tom throw his phone at the mirror?’ I ask, my voice sounding high and strange. Before I’m really aware of what I’m doing, I’m back up on my feet and heading towards the exit.

  ‘Please don’t go!’ Nancy cries, sounding horribly like some sort of animal caught in a trap. For some reason, though, I can’t turn back to her. I don’t want to look at her, to see the state she’s in. If Tom was really involved, then I need to know how.

  As I stumble back across the broken glass and out of the still-open front door, I catch sight of the painted Indalo Man symbol on the wall beside the door. He was supposed to protect her, I think, tears causing the dome of his rainbow shield to distort in front of my eyes. He was supposed to protect all of us.

  ‘Tom!’

  The hard mass of unarticulated rage that had wedged itself into my throat abruptly comes free as I reach the door of Tom’s studio flat, and I bring my fist up to pummel the wood.

  ‘TOM!’

  The door opens.

  Without waiting to be invited, I barge past him and storm into the middle of the room, my eyes flickering from the glass of what looks like whisky on the coffee table to the strange expression on my friend’s face. My brow knots up as I stare back at him, trying to fathom what it is that I can’t quite read in his eyes. He’s not angry, or amused or even upset. No, Tom is frightened, and that is worse than anything else could have been.

  ‘You’d better sit down,’ he says eventually, so quietly that I take an involuntary step towards him in order to hear.

  Our eyes meet yet again, but he drops his first, gesturing towards the sofa with a hand.

  ‘I’m fine standing,’ I say tightly, thinking privately that I couldn’t sit still even if I wanted to. The nervous energy hurtling through my body is making me jittery, and I can’t seem to stop moving from one foot to the other.

  Tom hesitates for a moment, then crosses the room and sits back down facing his tumbler of what I assume must be medicinal alcohol. I watch as he picks up the glass and swills the amber liquid inside, his hand moving to disguise the tremble in his fingers.

  ‘You’ve seen Nancy?’ he asks, looking up towards but not at me.

  I nod. ‘She’s in a right state, crying all over herself in the dark, but she wouldn’t tell me why. She said you were there. What’s going on, Tom? Did you smash the mirror?’

  Tom doesn’t answer me immediately, instead bringing his drink up to his lips and taking a hearty slug, only to begin coughing as the fiery liquid hits his throat.

  I fold my arms across my chest while I wait for him to regain his composure, noticing as I do so the pile of discarded T-shirts littering one of the chairs, the carton of milk left out on the kitchen counter, the stack of dirty mugs in the sink.

  ‘I didn’t touch the mirror. I went over there to meet you,’ he says now, his tone faintly accusatory. ‘Where were you?’

  ‘I went to see Theo,’ I say, fixing my eyes on the clock above the front door. ‘I was upset after I spoke to Rachel and I just wanted to see a friendly face.’

  ‘How did that go?’ Tom asks, and I take a deep breath.

  ‘It was fine,’ I reply, staring straight at him. ‘But it’s over between him and me.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he says, taking another sip and wincing, although whether it’s because of what I’ve just said or the alcohol, I can’t tell.

  ‘What happened with Nancy?’ I prompt, closing a firm door on my eventful few hours with
Theo. ‘Did you say something to upset her?’

  ‘No!’ Tom looks up, his eyes beseeching.

  ‘She’s borderline catatonic,’ I snap. ‘And there’s broken glass all over the floor – I thought Ignacio had turned up at first and they’d had a row or something, but then Nancy kept on saying your name, and so—’

  ‘Hannah!’ he interrupts, his misery radiating off him.

  ‘What?’ I demand, narrowing my eyes as I stare at him. His odd demeanour is scaring me, and I don’t understand why he won’t just give me a straight answer.

  ‘What do you mean, “what”?’ he says, one of his fingers bothering the ice in his now empty glass. ‘I don’t know anything about the mirror being broken.’

  ‘But Nancy said—’ I begin, but stop when Tom abruptly gets up from the sofa and walks towards me.

  ‘Look at me,’ he pleads, and I raise my eyes until I can see them reflected in his own. ‘You know I’m telling you the truth.’

  ‘But I don’t understand,’ I say, still reluctant to let him near me. ‘Nancy has got no reason to start smashing things.’

  There’s a pause, and unwillingly I think back to the previous evening, and Nancy hurling the mug to the floor.

  ‘Perhaps she has,’ he counters. ‘Have you not noticed what’s been going on with her?’ He crosses to the small kitchen area to fetch his bottle of whisky.

  ‘Do you want one?’ he asks, but I shake my head, already thinking that I must get back to my sister.

  ‘That she’s been a bit erratic?’ I ask, and he nods impatiently. ‘Well, yes – but I think it’s just because she’s had a row with her best friend or something. And she’s angry at Dad …’

  Tom is sitting back down again, and this time I join him, picking the spot on the sofa that’s furthest away.

  ‘As soon as I got there today, Nancy was …’ He pauses, his eyes darting up and then off to the side. ‘Well, she was all over me,’ he mutters.

  My heart thumps horribly against my chest.

  ‘And?’

  ‘I mean, like, she was really all over me,’ he says again, and this time my hands turn cold and clammy. ‘She didn’t even let me speak, she just started kissing me straight away and pulled me into the bedroom.’

  My mind conjures up an image of myself and Theo, the two of us ripping at each other’s clothes just as Nancy and Tom must have been doing at exactly the same time. I hadn’t let him get a word in, either, and I imagine now what it must have felt like to be Theo, to have me so obviously unhinged in his arms. Of course, Theo being the red-blooded – albeit emotionally damaged – man that he is, he was more than willing to comply, but I find it hard to picture Tom having the same response.

  ‘And?’ I prompt again, and Tom glances at me sheepishly.

  ‘And nothing,’ he groans. ‘I kissed her back at first, okay? I’m only human.’

  ‘Debatable,’ I snap, and he closes his eyes briefly before continuing.

  ‘I … Er, we …’ He’s clearly struggling to get his words out, but I wish he would just get on with it. The thought of him and Nancy together is making me feel as if my limbs are being pulled off my body without anaesthetic. Whether it’s because it’s him in my mental image or her, I can’t tell.

  ‘You had sex,’ I state, unable to bear his babbling any longer, but Tom immediately shakes his head.

  ‘No! Absolutely not. We didn’t. I mean, I thought that she wanted to, but then as soon as I stopped her …’ He pauses again and picks up his whisky.

  ‘What happened, Tom?’ I cry, standing up and sitting right back down beside him. I’m angry and fearful, but my overwhelming instinct now is to comfort him. He looks utterly wretched.

  ‘She just flipped,’ he mutters. ‘She slapped me off her and started screaming at me to get out and leave her alone. But you know I would never do anything to hurt her, Hannah. You know I wouldn’t.’

  There are tears in his voice now and I want to pull him against my chest and console him, but I find that I’m frozen – rooted to the spot by the vile image that he’s describing.

  ‘Then what happened?’ I ask.

  Tom sits back and runs his hands through his hair.

  ‘Then I left,’ he says. ‘I came back here and started drinking.’

  ‘Why didn’t you call me?’ I want to know, but he looks at me as if it’s the most stupid question he’s ever heard.

  ‘Because I was embarrassed,’ he says, incredulous. ‘Because a girl that I thought liked me had just thrown me out, and because you’re her sister, Hannah. Forgive me if this sounds obvious, but I didn’t think you’d want to hear from me, to be honest.’

  He’s right, of course, I wouldn’t have wanted to hear it. Yet here we are anyway.

  ‘I can’t believe you would think that badly of me,’ he says now, and I can tell just how hurt he is.

  ‘I didn’t – I thought it was Ignacio who had kicked off and upset her. But then Nancy said—’ I babble, but he cuts across me.

  ‘I know she’s your sister, Hannah, but I’m supposed to be your best friend.’

  ‘I could say the same thing to you!’ I retort. ‘You’re my best friend and she’s my sister, and yet that didn’t stop you trying it on with her, did it? It didn’t stop you going along with her advances tonight. As far as you knew, I was on my way back and could have walked in and found the pair of you at it.’

  He has the grace to look slightly sheepish at this, but I haven’t finished.

  ‘And you went behind my back and slagged me off to Rachel!’ I add, standing up and walking away from him. ‘I suppose you knew all about Theo and Claudette, too, and just let me make a fool of myself anyway.’

  To my horror, Tom barely reacts at the mention of their names.

  ‘So, it is true,’ he mutters, downing the remainder of his drink and fixing his mouth into a hard, straight line. ‘I thought as much.’

  ‘Why the hell didn’t you tell me?’ I cry, the sound making us both flinch.

  ‘I didn’t think it was my place,’ he says, refusing to raise his voice. ‘And because I didn’t think for a moment that—’ He stops, shaking his head.

  ‘That what?’ I ask, hearing the words tremble.

  He sighs before replying, and I’m sure I detect what looks an awful lot like pity in his expression.

  ‘That you and he would become a thing.’

  ‘And why is that?’ I snarl, my mouth now completely adrift from my brain.

  ‘Because you’re you,’ he exclaims. ‘And he’s him.’

  ‘Oh, I get it,’ I rage, digging my fingernails into the fleshy tops of my arms to stop myself from crying. ‘Claudette is good enough for him, but I’m not. He’s Theo the great and powerful and I’m just a joke. Well, thanks a lot.’

  Tom stands up. ‘Hannah, come on.’

  ‘Stay away from me!’ I growl, so menacingly that Tom actually recoils. By the time I reach the front door, he’s sitting back down again, his big stupid head in his big stupid hands. He looks defeated, beaten, weary and bereft, but I’m too upset to care.

  ‘And stay away from Nancy, too,’ I throw in as a parting shot, just as he looks up. I know the pain in his eyes would have made my legs buckle at the knee, but I don’t see it. I have already slammed the door shut behind me and am heading back home to my sister.

  35

  I find Nancy exactly where I left her, although she’s no longer sitting upright but has rolled over on to her side, her knees pulled up to her chest and her hands knotted together across her shins. Instead of trying to move her, I simply sit down on the tiles by her head and gently run my fingers through her hair, just as my mum used to do to me when I had a nightmare or a tummy bug. It seems to soothe her, and it’s helping me to stay calm, too. There are so many things I need to ask her, but for now it’s enough just to be here for her, and I’m surprised at how good it feels to be her big sister.

  That fear I experienced earlier tonight when I found her curled up in that sobbin
g ball will stay with me forever. It cut through all the other feelings I had towards Nancy and gripped me with an urgent yet simple realisation: I love my sister. I care about her wellbeing and I don’t want anything bad to happen to her. Just knowing those things for a fact is a comfort, and for the first time ever I can picture a future relationship between us. Not just one of sibling rivalry, either, but one founded on real friendship.

  Nancy used to try to cuddle up to me when we were still kids. My dad would put a film on and wrap us up together under a blanket on the sofa, one on each side of him. Nancy would always wriggle free, though, and come across to me. I can remember now how her sticky little hand felt as she slipped it into mine, and how I’d rest my cheek against the top of her glossy black head as she nodded off to sleep. It was all so simple then, but over time I’d let my resentments rule my heart. Nancy wasn’t the one who had changed her behaviour – I was.

  I switched on the hallway light when I came back, but the main part of the apartment is still shrouded in darkness. I can see the white chocolate button of the moon through the glass doors of the balcony, the sky now so clear after the earlier rain. The crickets have fallen silent, so I know it must be late, and I pass the time by counting the scatter of stars thrown out like gems across velvet. I think about Elaine, and of Theo and fleetingly of Tom, although I don’t let my mind dwell there for very long. I think of Rachel, and wonder if my idiotic words are causing her to have a sleepless night. I hope they aren’t, and that she knows me well enough to realise how much of a fool I am. It was only a few hours ago that we spoke, but I feel as though a decade has passed. Everything that has happened has added years of wisdom and understanding to my weary mind, and I let those things percolate inside me as I sit on the floor.

  It’s time, I think. It’s time for me to change and to grow up a bit. I’ll be leaving Mojácar a different person, and I’m thankful for that, even if the road up to this point has been a tough one. Whatever has happened to make Nancy react in such an erratic way, we’ll get to the bottom of it. There’s nothing we can’t deal with, nothing I’m not fully prepared to hear, and nothing that could possibly shock me more than the other things I’ve heard over the past twelve hours.