by Ella Harper
Connie and Bella looked up to find Hannah leaning out of her bedroom window.
‘Blimey, Han,’ Bella complained, shading her eyes. ‘You have this habit of just appearing out of nowhere.’
‘It’s hardly nowhere,’ Hannah shot back. ‘This is my bedroom and I’m leaning out of the window.’
Bella made a grunting sound. ‘You made me jump.’
‘Soz. And I do want a tan, thank you very much. I just don’t like bikinis.’
‘THAT is because you don’t have boobs yet.’
‘I do have boobs!’ Hannah blew a rather childish raspberry. ‘Thanks for the phone, big sis! I haven’t looked at your photos yet, but I bet there’s some of YOUR boobs…’
Bella made to throw her book at the window and Hannah giggled and swiftly withdrew.
Connie smiled. It had been lovely to see Bella and Hannah getting on so well. Connie had no idea if it was because they were away from their friends and school, but they had seemed like proper sisters over the past few days. She was also reassured that Bella had handed her phone over to her sister, because it probably meant that Bella didn’t have a boyfriend at the moment – or at least, no one serious. Connie had no idea why that was an issue, but she knew she would worry about Bella way more when that day came along.
‘I should call Layla again,’ Connie murmured as she got comfortable on the lounger.
‘So why don’t you?’
‘We keep missing one other. No idea why; it’s not like there’s a huge time difference. I’m guessing it’s just that she’s busy with work and with all the stuff going on with her mum.’
Connie took her phone out from under her lounger and checked it. Nothing. Nothing from Layla. Nothing from JJ. Not that JJ was in the habit of phoning her or anything. But for some reason, Connie wanted him to. She really wanted to hear from him. Just so they could talk. Not about anything in particular, and certainly not about what was happening with Jonas, but just… to talk.
‘What’s going on with her mum?’ Bella murmured, sounding as though she was about to drift off to sleep.
‘I’m sure she won’t mind me telling you, but we think her mum has dementia.’
‘God. That’s awful.’ Bella sounded appalled. ‘I hope you don’t end up like that, Mum. Will I need to take you to the funny farm?’
Connie threw her a sideways glance. ‘Probably. As long as you send me in with some vodka I’m sure I’ll get through it.’
‘Deal.’
‘And a cat. I think it would be nice to have a cat to cuddle if I go doolally.’
‘A cat?’ Bella pulled a face. ‘Can’t think of anything weirder. Seeing as you don’t really like pets.’
‘I do,’ Connie protested. ‘I just don’t have time for a pet right now. But I would if you have to put me in the funny farm.’ She gave Bella a sober glance. ‘It’s not actually a laughing matter, the whole funny farm thing.’
‘I know.’ Bella nodded. ‘I was only joking to make it all seem OK. It must be horrible for Layla.’
Connie sighed. ‘I feel so sorry for her. I think it might be making her depressed.’
Bella sat up on one elbow. ‘I can imagine. I don’t know how she’s supposed to lead a normal life. What about getting a boyfriend and all that?’
God. Connie felt so sorry for Layla. What an awful thing to have to deal with. Loving a parent deeply, but feeling trapped in an inescapable, desperate situation with them.
‘Are you hungry?’ Connie sat up and changed the subject to try and brighten the mood for a moment. She decided to head indoors to sort out some food. ‘I’m hungry. I think it’s the sunshine that does it.’
Bella shrugged. ‘Not really. I mean, I could eat some of that chickpea cake thingy if we have any left.’
‘Torta di ceci,’ Connie said, remembering the name as she got up from her lounger. Languages came fairly easy to her, always had done. She wished she’d studied Italian at uni; maybe she would have ended up living in Italy or doing something that related to the language more. Tuscany was stunning and it was easy to get carried away by the gorgeous landscape and all the delicious food.
Connie strolled into the kitchen. Jonas was on his phone, his shoulders hunched up angrily.
‘Jesus Christ!’ he spat as he hung up.
Connie jumped as Jonas let out the expletive. ‘Woah. Are you OK?’
Jonas rounded on her. ‘Am I OK? No I am not OK, Connie. Do I look OK?’ His breathing was laboured and his face was bright red. He was wearing a pair of navy tailored shorts he’d had for years and a white linen shirt, but only half the buttons were done up. He looked dishevelled and unkempt.
‘No, you don’t look OK.’ Connie bit the inside of her mouth, but she refused to drop her head and bow down. Whatever mood Jonas was in, she was going to stand her ground. ‘Is that your office phoning you again?’
‘Yes. Fucking bastards.’ Jonas clutched his mobile in a clenched fist. ‘I hate that stupid twat, Lukas. He hounds me day and night and makes out I’m some kind of failure. Do you know how many cases I’ve won for that bloody company?’
‘I do.’
‘I was supposed to chase up this witness.’
‘But you didn’t?’ Connie wasn’t even sure she should ask.
‘No. I didn’t.’ Jonas looked agitated. ‘Because I’ve got too much on. I’m too bloody tired all the time.’
‘You’re usually really good at that sort of thing,’ Connie said reasonably. ‘Surely they can’t blame you for being over-tired and over-worked?’
‘But they are,’ Jonas snapped back. He ran his hand through his hair. ‘And it’s potentially… it’s potentially really bad.’
Connie reached for her wrap that was hanging over the back of one of the ornate dining room chairs. She suddenly felt chilly. And incongruous wearing a bikini while Jonas was ranting at her again. ‘I’m sorry, Jonas.’
‘You’re sorry? What are you so bloody sorry about?’
Connie recoiled from Jonas’s snarling face then raised her chin. ‘I’m sorry that you’re having to deal with all of this on holiday. That you don’t ever seem to get a break. That Lukas is such a twat and that he won’t leave you alone or stop making you feel shitty. I’m sorry that you are so stressed out and that it seems to be never-ending. I’m sorry you haven’t smiled for months and that I can’t seem to make you happy anymore. I’m sorry life hasn’t turned out the way you expected.’
Jonas stared at her. His eyes actually filled with tears. He looked as though he might break down and fall to his knees.
Connie waited, hardly realising she was holding her breath. She wanted more than anything to give Jonas and hug and tell him she was on his side. That she wanted them to be OK. That she would do whatever she could to take this all away from him so he could be himself again.
Connie made a decision. She would walk over and give Jonas a hug. Because he was sad and he was angry and he needed to feel supported and loved. They had to get through this. Together. And they would.
Connie took a step forward, feeling hopeful.
Jonas’s phone rang again. He glanced at it, looked furious and then just as swiftly, he looked desolate. And then he lost it. Jonas completely lost it. He hurled his phone at the wall and it shattered, pieces of plastic showering down onto the antique tiles.
Connie leapt out of her skin and shrank backwards.
‘You’re bloody sorry for lots of things, aren’t you, Connie?’ Jonas shouted. ‘Aren’t you? But nothing is changing. Nothing. And I’m sick of it. Sick of it, do you hear me?’
‘I – I hear you,’ Connie stammered. She stepped backwards awkwardly. Dammit. Why did her voice always let her down?
Jonas covered the distance between himself and Connie in three steps and before either of them knew what was happening, Jonas’s fist was in Connie’s face. Not once, but twice. The room swam, something exploded in front of her eyes. And then her legs wobbled and collapsed and she fell down.
Conn
ie wasn’t aware of anything but sound. The sound of Jonas’s shoes on the tiles, a loud bang in her ear. Ringing in her ear. Her body hitting the floor and crumpling as though she was heavier than she actually was. Someone crying. Someone was crying. Was it her?
Connie put a hand to her face and felt wetness, but when she looked down at her hands, there was blood there. Not tears. Blood. Was she crying? Connie didn’t think so. She didn’t feel like crying; she just felt flat and numb and empty.
‘Mum!’
Connie’s head snapped up. Bella. Oh God.
Bella was standing in the doorway, her hand clamped over her mouth. And she was crying. Tears were streaming down her face and she was shaking. And she was sobbing. Because she had just witnessed what her dad had done to her mum.
Connie struggled to her feet. Her face was killing her and her legs felt like jelly, but all she knew was that she had to get up. She had to get up and she had to get to Bella. Connie pushed past Jonas, who was standing dumbly like a statue, his fist still clenched, unbelievably.
What was wrong with him? Connie no longer cared. All she cared about was Bella.
‘Bella.’ Connie put her hands on Bella’s shoulders. ‘It’s OK. I’m OK.’
‘You’re not OK!’ Bella screamed and the sudden, shrill noise made Connie wince. ‘He just hit you, Mum!’
‘I know. I know.’ Connie pulled Bella into her arms. ‘Stop crying, baby. It was just an accident.’
Bella pulled back fiercely and Connie was horrified to see that Bella’s turquoise bikini was covered in blood. Blood that had seemingly run down Connie’s cheek and onto her chest.
‘Don’t you defend him, Mum,’ Bella cried. ‘Don’t you dare. He hit you. He punched you in the face. Oh my God. He punched you.’ She started crying again.
Connie felt an immediate rush of fury. For the first time she had someone else to consider in all of this. It wasn’t just her now; Bella was also involved. And that meant that this could never, ever happen again. Connie knew without a shadow of a doubt that Jonas had just hit her for the last time. She didn’t know what she was going to do about it or how she was going to be able to stop it, but Connie wasn’t going to let Jonas do it again. Not now that Bella had witnessed it. Something had shifted. Everything was different.
Connie glanced over her shoulder at Jonas. He was still facing the other way, but he looked broken. His shoulders were hunched and his head was bowed. The way hers had almost been before. It was as though they had swapped places. Now Jonas was the one cowering and Connie was the one who felt empowered.
‘Jonas.’ Connie said his name quietly. ‘Come and tell Bella that it’s OK.’
‘Don’t. I don’t want him anywhere near me.’ Bella shook her head, her dark hair flapping round her face. ‘And it’s not OK. It will never be OK.’
Jonas turned around slowly. ‘Oh, Bella.’ His voice cracked. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘What for, Dad?’ Bella was still shaking, but her eyes flashed accusingly. ‘Sorry I saw what you did? Or sorry you did it, because that’s the only sorry I’m interested in. That’s not the first time, is it, Mum?’
Connie opened her mouth to deny it, then closed it again. No, she wasn’t going to lie. But she didn’t have to.
‘No, it isn’t,’ Jonas admitted. ‘And I’m so incredibly ashamed.’
‘So you should be,’ Bella spat at him. ‘You need help, Dad. You can’t do this. You love her, she’s your wife.’ Another sob escaped, but Bella held onto herself. Connie had never felt so much admiration for her daughter as she did right now. ‘You get some help, otherwise I’ll never, ever speak to you again. Do you hear me?’
Jonas couldn’t even answer. He just nodded his head.
Bella swallowed. ‘Good. I – I’m going upstairs, Mum. Don’t worry, I won’t tell Hannah. It’s bad enough that I just saw that.’ She wiped her face then gasped at the sight of blood on her hand. Abruptly, she ran upstairs.
There was silence. Guilt and remorse hung heavily in the air, but most of all, there was a sense of shock. A sense that everything had turned on its axis. What had happened had been so appalling and so irreversible, there was no going back now.
‘Don’t say anything,’ Jonas said flatly, not looking up. He sank down into a nearby chair. ‘Please, please, don’t say anything.’
Connie didn’t. Instead, she quietly left the room and went upstairs. Once she was up there, she shut herself in the beautiful, Tuscan, en-suite bathroom attached to the main bedroom. Then she bawled her eyes out and let herself wonder, for the very first time, if her marriage was now actually over.
Jonas
Jonas got up and walked to the pool. Stood at the edge. Stared down into the water. It looked so inviting. So welcoming. It rippled unctuously, lethargically, courtesy of the jets set inside the walls of the pool. The sun left dapples of light across the pale blue water.
Jonas had the urge to leap into the deep end. And to stay there for as long as he could. Feel the coolness of the water on his hot skin and just… lose himself. Forget about his life. Forget about his failures. Feel alive, but not alive.
Bella had seen him. His daughter had seen what he had done. Jonas felt vomit curdling in his throat. He was full of self-loathing, so full of self-loathing it was as though he was filled with bile and rancid sourness. Because for some reason, the fact that his daughter had witnessed his horrific behaviour had brought it slamming back into Jonas’s conscience.
He was hitting his wife. Hitting her. In the face, with a closed fist. What kind of monster was he? What kind of animal? Jonas loved Connie. Loved her. In a way he had never envisaged possible when he was younger. Before they had got together, Jonas had had a few girlfriends. He wasn’t overly experienced in the way JJ clearly was, but he had been in a few relationships, had been lucky enough to have a few one night stands. But Connie had been different. Connie had been special. And Jonas hadn’t imagined he even had a chance with her because she had seemed smitten elsewhere. With JJ. But then she had turned to him. She had needed him, wanted him. Jonas had had no idea why, but he had grabbed the opportunity with both hands. Won her over, slowly but surely. It had taken a little time, but she had been worth it. Totally worth it.
And now look what he was doing. How he was treating her. What had happened to him? How had he lost this much respect for himself? For her?
Jonas held his hands out in front of him. They had blood on them. Connie’s blood. Shocked, Jonas sucked his breath in. The shame he felt was overwhelming.
He knelt down by the pool and dipped both hands into the water. He removed them and found them blood-stained still. Jonas put his hands back into the water and rubbed them vigorously, watching tiny threads of red spiral into the water where they disappeared. Washing away his shame. Except that it didn’t. Because his shame was deeply ingrained. It was etched on his heart and stamped onto his soul.
Jonas stood up again. What would happen to his relationship with Bella now? Things had always been strained between them. Disconnected. Jonas had no idea why, but he and Bella had always felt slightly like strangers. He had bonded with her when she was a baby, but as she grew older, Jonas had felt something shift. Hadn’t felt as connected to her. And now this. What on earth would Bella think of him now? Her father, hitting her mother?
Jonas stared down into the water again. Life seemed very, very hard right now. Work and home were both more stressful than he could articulate, and even though one of those situations had been caused by him, and he owned that, Jonas felt as if he had nowhere to go. Nowhere to hide and nowhere to go.
Gazing at the hands that were capable of terrible, terrible things, Jonas wondered how the hell he could come back from this. And if there was any point in trying.
Layla
‘You look great,’ JJ said.
‘Do I?’ Layla looked down at herself. ‘I wasn’t sure about this top… too much?’
‘No way.’ JJ shook his head. ‘It’s lovely. You look gorgeous.
Chill out.’
Layla raked her fingers through her hair. JJ was right. She needed to chill out. They were in a bar she’d never been to before, her mum was being looked after by a stranger and she was meeting some of JJ’s friends with the view to maybe having ‘fun’ if it was on offer. Layla let out a breath. God. How was she supposed to chill out?!
She glanced down at her outfit. She was wearing tight black jeans with nude, strappy sandals and a silvery halter-neck top. She felt a bit naked, but also a bit sexy. Did she look too obvious, though? Maybe she looked too obvious.
‘You didn’t… say I was kind of… up for it or anything, did you? When you told your mates about tonight?’
JJ looked at her incredulously. ‘What? Of course not. What do you take me for?’
Layla pulled a face. ‘Er… a man, JJ.’
JJ pulled a face back. ‘Er… but a good one, Layla. Well, an all right one. Certainly not one that tells his male mates that one of his female mates is “up for it.”’
She laughed. And checked him out. He looked good tonight, actually. Smart, dark jeans, good shoes, crisp, tight white shirt. His dark curls were cut extremely short as usual so no one guessed he looked as though he’d had a bad perm if he couldn’t get to the hairdressers, but no one could deny the chiselled face and the sculpted body.
Layla smiled to herself. Not that she had ever properly fancied JJ. There hadn’t ever been much point when his interests had so clearly lay elsewhere, and then Layla had seen him as too much of a friend to think of him any other way.
‘OK, so maybe I have you wrong.’
‘Maybe.’ JJ raised his eyebrows. ‘I’m not a total Neanderthal, anyway.’
Layla fluffed her hair again. ‘I’m nervous. Like, really nervous.’
‘I can tell.’ JJ put his drink down. ‘So what are you nervous about, exactly? Tell me and I’ll help you deal with it.’ He pulled another face. ‘I probably can’t but I’ll give it a go. OK?’
Layla squared her shoulders. ‘OK. So this place is new to me.’
‘So what? You go to new places all the time. Anyway, it’s cool here.’
