Forbidden Friends

by Anne-Marie Conway

  “No, I’m sorry,” she said after a bit. She looked as if she was going to cry herself. “I didn’t mean it, Bee, I promise; you just don’t know what he’s like.”

  I smiled to show her I wasn’t angry. I just wanted to do something to help. Her mum’s text came just after three – the phone vibrated on the table between us. She picked it up, staring at the screen, and then stood up, saying she had to go.

  “What’s going to happen tomorrow?” I said, scared I wouldn’t see her again.

  She shrugged, pushing the rest of the baguette towards me. “I’ll text you in the morning after breakfast. I’m sure I’ll be able to get away at some point. But don’t forget, Bee...” She looked around as if she was frightened someone might be listening. “From now on, everything about our friendship has got to be dead secret.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Mum was waiting for me just inside the entrance to the hotel. “I’ve got a surprise for you,” she said, waving a leaflet at me as I came through the revolving doors. “Something nice for us to do before Dad gets here.”

  “What is it?” I said. The last thing I felt like was a surprise.

  “It’s a treatment at the hotel beauty spa. I’ve booked us an hour each. I think I might have my nails done or a facial...” She handed the leaflet to me as we walked towards the lift. “What do you fancy? Nails? Hair? Anything you like.”

  “I don’t know,” I said, glancing down at the leaflet. “I’m not really in the mood, to be honest.”

  Mum’s face fell. “Oh come on, Lizzie. A girlie pamper session will be lovely.”

  “I know, but Dad’s coming and—”

  “That’s exactly why we need to go and do this now,” she said firmly, herding me into the lift. “I know it’s not your sort of thing, but you’ll enjoy it once we’re there.”

  The hotel beauty spa was on the lower-ground floor. There were candles and music and women milling about in white towelling robes. They were all talking in these hushed voices as if they were in a library, and I couldn’t see a single person under the age of forty.

  “Are you sure I’m not too young?” I whispered, feeling a bit out of place.

  Mum shook her head, smiling. “You’re never too young for a bit of pampering. Have you decided what treatment you’d like?”

  I ended up having my nails done with Mum. We sat next to each other in our white robes with our hands in hot, perfumed water, trying to decide which colour polish we should choose. It was weird, but I actually began to enjoy myself. There was something very relaxing about the whole thing with the candles and the music and the dimmed lighting. Almost as if we were cocooned from the rest of the world.

  The beauty therapist was very friendly, showering me with compliments. She said I had wonderful skin tone and that my eyes were such an unusual colour and that I was so lucky to be a natural blonde.

  Mum nodded, agreeing. “Yes, she’s beautiful, isn’t she?”

  I glanced across at her, embarrassed at all the attention. She was smiling but she had that funny faraway look in her eyes that she gets sometimes, as if she’s staring into the past. I was certain suddenly that she was going to say something about Luke – about how similar we were. I held my breath, waiting for her to ruin everything, but she just shook her head slightly, and the moment passed.

  It was easily the most relaxed I’d seen her for ages. She told me about this time she’d tried to bleach her hair blonde with a friend, and it had ended up bright green. She said my granddad had gone mad and threatened to cut it all off – but that even though he’d waved the scissors around and shouted a lot, she knew he’d never actually do it.

  I think she was trying to make me feel better about Dad arriving – or maybe she was trying to make me feel better about Dad full stop – but it wasn’t the same. Her dad, my granddad, was strict about normal things like make-up and boyfriends. He was old-fashioned and stuffy, always going on about manners and respect, but he never kept Mum trapped in her own house like a prisoner.

  Dad got a taxi from the airport and was due to arrive just after six. Mum and I waited for him downstairs in the lobby area of the hotel. I think Mum was dreading it as much as me – she was a bag of nerves, checking her phone every two minutes to see if he was on his way. She’d probably enjoyed the week away from him as much as I had, even though we hadn’t really done that much.

  He pushed his way through the revolving door bang on time and strode across the reception area as if he owned the entire hotel. I shrank back in my chair as he came towards us. It had only been a week since I’d last seen him, but he looked bigger than I remembered and more powerful. Mum jumped up to greet him and they talked quietly for a few moments.

  I was tempted to sneak away. To run out of the hotel and keep on running until I was as far away from him as I could possibly get. I’d had such a great time hanging out with Bee – it was the most fun I’d had in years – but now Dad was here and the rules would start, with the constant questions about where I was going and who I was seeing, and it would all be ruined.

  We went for dinner at a restaurant recommended by the hotel. It was very smart, with air conditioning and waiters in suits, completely different from the beachside cafes Mum and I had been eating at during the first week. I ordered some familiar-sounding fish dish, but when it arrived, the fish still had its head on, with its mouth gaping open and one glassy eye staring up at me.

  I didn’t know what to do – there was no way I could eat it. I tried some peppers and tomatoes at the side of the dish, but I couldn’t bring myself to touch the actual fish. Every time I glanced down at my plate, the pale, glassy eye seemed to be fixed on my face, accusing me, as if I was guilty of killing it myself.

  “Come on, Lizzie,” said Dad, waving his fork at me. “Eat up.”

  “I’m not really hungry,” I said, trying not to cry. I knew he was going to get really angry.

  “I mean it, Lizzie. Stop playing with your food and eat it. It’s not cheap here, you know.”

  I looked across at Mum for help, but she just stared down at her plate. If only she was strong enough to stand up to him for once. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, “but I can’t eat the fish like this, with the head on and the eye showing. I didn’t realize it would come—”

  “Oh, for goodness’ sake!” Dad leaned over and hacked the head off the fish, shoving it to one side. “Okay now?”

  I nodded, but I still didn’t think I could eat it. I nibbled at tiny bits around the edge, trying not to look at the severed head. Dad watched me, his lips set in a straight line. He was always so angry – I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen him laugh or even smile. Bee might have been scared of Melissa Knight, but at least she didn’t have to live with her.

  He was still in a foul mood the next morning. We were downstairs in the breakfast room and Mum was going on about the memorial for Luke. She wanted him to help her find a suitable place, but it was obvious Dad was fed up with the whole conversation.

  “I couldn’t go down to the beach for an hour or two, could I?” I said, desperate to get away.

  They both glanced up at me, surprised, as if they’d forgotten I was there. “I won’t be long and I’ve got my phone with me and it’s charged up so you can call me. I’ll just sit in the shade and read my book. I won’t talk to anyone or go off anywhere...”

  Dad opened his mouth to say something and then hesitated for a moment.

  “She’ll be fine,” said Mum. “She’s been good as gold this past week, keeping herself busy every day.”

  “Busy doing what?” said Dad.

  “Nothing,” I said, my heart beginning to bang in my chest. “Just reading and hanging out and—”

  “And we went to visit the Tarragona Amphitheatre, didn’t we?” said Mum, cutting in. “That was interesting. Did you know that it held 14,000 people in its day?”

  “I’ll just go for an hour or so then,” I said, as Mum twittered on about the ruins. I pushed my chair away from
the table and started to back out of the room.

  “Don’t talk to anyone,” warned Dad. “And don’t wander off anywhere. I want you back here at eleven sharp, or there’ll be trouble.”

  I raced from the hotel down to the beach. I couldn’t believe it. I was free! I texted Bee, asking her to meet me, and scrambled up the side of my rock to wait for her. As long as Dad didn’t come to check up on me I’d be fine, and even if he did, I could always say I’d just met Bee that morning and that she came over to talk to me, not the other way round. How angry could he be about that?

  “You made it!” cried Bee a few moments later, running across the beach towards the rock. “What happened?”

  “I don’t know,” I yelled. I couldn’t stop grinning. “My mum and dad were talking and they weren’t really taking much notice of me and I asked if I could come down for a while and here I am!”

  Bee climbed up, plonking herself down next to me. “I thought I was never going to see you again. Do you think your dad will let you come down every day?”

  “Maybe, I’m not sure. It was awful last night – we went to this really posh restaurant and I ordered fish but it came with the head on and eyes still in and it was so gross I couldn’t touch it and my dad went mad.”

  “What did he do? He didn’t force you to eat it, did he?”

  “He tried but I walked out of the restaurant.”

  Bee looked at me, her eyes huge. “What, you just got up and walked out? I can’t believe it, you’re so brave.”

  “Not really,” I said, shrugging. “I mean he couldn’t exactly drag me back in, in front of all the other people.”

  I wrapped my arms round my knees, staring out to sea. I didn’t feel brave at all. I was such a liar, even to Bee. I’d never be able to stand up to Dad like that. I remember Mum telling me once that Luke used to challenge Dad all the time. She said it caused loads of rows, especially during the year before he died. It was probably half the reason Dad was so strict with me.

  The memorial was on the last day of the holiday, just five days away, and I still hadn’t told Bee about Luke. I wanted to, I wanted to tell her everything – but I didn’t want her to know I’d been lying to her, not when she’d trusted me enough to tell me about Melissa Knight and how worried she was that her mum and dad might be splitting up.

  It was amazing, but we managed to meet up every morning in the days leading up to the memorial. Mum and Dad were slow to get going in the mornings, so they let me come down to the beach without too much fuss, as long as I kept my phone on and texted them every half an hour. It wasn’t as relaxing as before Dad arrived, but it was better than any other time we’d come to Spain.

  I actually thought I was going to get away with it – my first normal holiday, hanging out with my first proper friend – but then the day before the memorial, Dad came down to the beach to find me. We were going out somewhere for lunch and he wanted to get an early start. I spotted him just as Bee and I were making our way back from the cafe to our rock.

  “Go back over there,” I hissed, pushing Bee in the other direction, trying not to make it too obvious.

  She swung round, scared. “What’s the matter? Is it your dad?”

  I nodded, turning my back on her and hurrying towards Dad, my heart racing suddenly as he took giant strides towards me across the sand.

  “Who was that?” he said as I reached him.

  “What do you mean?”

  “That girl. Who were you talking to?”

  My heart was banging so hard against my chest it hurt. “No one, I just went to get a drink from the cafe and I was coming straight back. Are we leaving now? Why didn’t you text me?”

  Dad looked over my head, scanning the beach, his eyes like lasers. “Come on,” he said finally, “the restaurant’s further away than I thought. Mum’s waiting for us in the lobby.”

  I didn’t dare look round to see where Bee was, but I was sure she’d understand. The whole crazy thing was that she was just the sort of girl Dad would approve of: clever and sensible, never in trouble. He’d probably like her if he met her, but I was too scared to take the chance. She was the best friend I’d ever had and I didn’t want to risk losing her, not for anything.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  I nearly died when Lizzie’s dad came down to the beach. She shoved me really hard and walked off so quickly that I barely had time to register what was going on. I wanted to grab her and run in the opposite direction, but it all happened too fast. I ducked behind a couple who were just in front of me and watched as Lizzie ran towards him. Her dad was very tall and very fair, like Lizzie. When Lizzie reached him, they spoke for a few moments and then he turned round and strode off, with Lizzie following behind him.

  I made my way back to the hotel and found Nan and Mum by the pool. Mum lowered the magazine she was reading as I came towards them. “I didn’t expect to see you back here so soon,” she said, patting the sun lounger for me to sit with her. “Where’s your friend? I was going to ask if she wanted to have lunch with us.”

  “She had to go. Her dad came down to get her.”

  “Hey, what’s the matter?” said Nan, peering at me over her glasses. “You’ve gone white as a sheet.”

  “Nothing, Nan, I’m fine, I’m just tired.”

  “Oh yes, it’s hard work being on holiday,” she joked, chuckling to herself. “I’m worn out with all this lying around!”

  Lizzie texted me later that afternoon. She said they’d had lunch at some posh restaurant miles away and that everything was fine, but then she texted me again to say she had something important to tell me. We arranged to meet straight after breakfast the next morning.

  I spent the rest of the afternoon by the pool, hanging out with Mum and Nan. Mum was in quite a good mood. We lay next to each other on the sunbeds and she asked me all about Lizzie and what we’d been doing together. She said it was lovely to see me having such a good time. I came really close to asking her about Dad and if they had split up, but I was scared that if I pushed her too far she might say something I didn’t want to hear.

  I did ask her about the letters though. I asked if she’d received any more and who they were from. Her mood changed in a flash. She sat up, wrapping her towel round her like a shield. “I don’t want to talk about that,” she said, sounding cross. “Can’t we just enjoy the holiday while we’ve got the chance?”

  “But you’ve got to tell me,” I said, sitting up as well and grabbing hold of her arm, determined to find out. “The first letter caused all those rows between you and Dad and now another one’s arrived here and you said you’d explain everything to me once we were away. You promised.”

  Mum bowed her head so I couldn’t see her face. “Look, I’ve always said that we shouldn’t keep secrets, Bee, and I do understand how difficult this is for you, but I just can’t talk about it right now. I’m so sorry.”

  I didn’t know what to say. She really did sound sorry. “But is everything going to be okay?” was all I managed in the end, my voice breaking.

  “Of course it is,” she cried, reaching out for my hand and squeezing it tight. “Everything’s going to be fine, I promise.”

  I lay back down, trying not to cry. Another stupid promise she wouldn’t keep, but it wasn’t as if I could force her to tell me the truth.

  I couldn’t wait to finish my breakfast the next morning. I barely bothered with anything except a glass of juice and some fruit, but then just as I stood up to leave, Mum said that we were going to a nearby market to buy some presents for her friends at work. I couldn’t believe it. I had to meet up with Lizzie. It was the last day of our holiday and my phone was flat so I couldn’t even text her to let her know. She’d be waiting for me on the beach. I begged Mum to let me stay back, but she insisted I come with her.

  “I don’t know why you’re making such a fuss,” she said, as we climbed into a taxi outside the hotel. “We’ll be back by lunchtime and anyway, you and Lizzie can stay in touch after the holiday
, can’t you? It’s not as if you’re never going to see each other again.”

  I stared out of the window, ignoring her. There was no point explaining. She didn’t know how lonely I was at Glendale and what a relief it was to meet someone like Lizzie. Someone I could really talk to. I’d always been close to Bailey but this was different. Meeting Lizzie was like meeting the one person in the whole world who truly understood me.

  The market was in a big square with an old church at one end and a town hall at the other. There were rows and rows of stalls overflowing with fruit and vegetables, hand-crocheted lace tablecloths and the most beautiful stained-glass jewellery. The taxi dropped us off near the church and we joined the crowds of people making their way towards the stalls.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many different olives in my life,” cried Nan, her eyes lighting up. “And just look at those pastries.” She pushed her way through to the front of the cake stall, waving her arms about and calling out in broken Spanish.

  Mum and I left her to it and wandered over to look at the jewellery. I don’t usually wear much myself, but I really loved the way the sparkly sea-glass glistened in the sun. I picked up a delicate turquoise necklace. The beads were the exact same colour as Lizzie’s eyes.

  “Those beads are very precious,” said the man behind the stall. “Very special beads just for you.”

  “Oh, I’d love to get this for Lizzie,” I said, turning to Mum and holding it up to show her. “It would make such a great leaving present.”

  She glanced at the necklace. “How much is it?”

  “Only five euros,” I said, looking at the little ticket attached to the clasp. “And I’ll pay you back, I swear, as soon as we get back. She’s going to love it, it’s perfect.”

  “Not sulking any more then,” Mum teased. She pulled a five euro note out of her purse and was about to hand it to the man when a woman reached over and touched her on the shoulder. She was about Mum’s age, pretty, with her hair tied back in a scarf.