by Sophie Jaff
“You’d better go,” she tells Katherine over her shoulder.
John’s agonized cries echo in Katherine’s ears as she runs from the hospital room, follows her down the passageway and out, out into the wet night.
The guesthouse is very still and dark. Everyone has gone to bed, even Sue. It’s just as well. Katherine doesn’t think she could bear to face anyone now, as kind as they might be. She tries Sael’s phone again, and again it goes straight to voicemail. What would you say if he answered? she wonders. She has never longed for him as much as she longs for him right now, longs to feel his arms around her, longs for him to tell her that everything will be okay. But there’s a little boy upstairs who needs her.
Katherine tries to be as quiet as possible in the bedroom, but the floorboards creak underneath her. She undresses as quickly as she can, hurries into the bathroom. A face she hardly knows peers back at her from the mirror. Milky skin and long, dark hair. The rims of her eyes are red, but there’s something else. She draws closer to her reflection.
She is standing in a bedroom. It’s not her bedroom. It’s one of Sue’s bedrooms. She’s in the bed-and-breakfast and it is still nighttime and she is standing over Lucas’s bed. He is asleep.
She clutches something white and soft. A pillow.
She’s holding a pillow, holding it above Lucas’s head. Lucas sighs, although his thumb is in his mouth, rolls over, eyelids fluttering a little as he dreams.
What are you doing?
Katherine manages to make it out of the bedroom and into the bathroom. She sinks to her knees, balls up on the tiled floor.
Oh God. Oh God. What was that? What’s happening to you?
All she wants to do is sleep. Sleep calls to her, pulls at her with strong fingers. It was nothing, sleep murmurs. Nothing, you were dreaming.
She pushes herself up. Goes to the sink. Turns on the tap. Splashes cold water on her face. It shocks her.
In that moment, she knows. No, it wasn’t a dream.
The last thing she remembers is staring at the mirror. She wants to look in the mirror again. The urge to see her reflection is strong, almost overwhelming. She splashes more cold water, but it’s less of a shock now. If she can’t look at herself, she may as well go to bed. She needs to sleep, she must sleep.
You can’t. You can’t be alone with Lucas, she realizes.
What is she to do? She can’t reach Sael. Think, think, Katherine, think.
And then, as late as it is, she fetches her phone from the bedroom and dials. She has no choice.
The woman on the other end picks up immediately, almost as if she has been waiting for Katherine’s call.
“I need you. I know it’s late, but I need you. I need you to come and get us. Please, help me.”
“I’ll come tomorrow first thing,” Niamh reassures her. “Do you think can you hang in there until then?”
Katherine tries not to burst into tears. She doesn’t think she has ever been so relieved. “Yes,” she exhales. “Thank you.”
“You had to be in Wales, didn’t you?”
Katherine manages a shaky laugh. “I guess I did.”
“Typical. Well, text me your address and I’ll make a plan.”
“Niamh, thank you so, so much.”
“Oh, shut up, you daft cow. Go to sleep, I’ll see yez soon.”
Katherine, still smiling, hangs up.
Then her smile fades. She can’t sleep, at least not in the same room with him. The bed is singing its siren song, but she takes the coverlet and a pillow into the bathroom and shuts the door behind her. She locks the door and removes the key. Then she plugs the sink and runs the cold tap until the sink is full. After she drops the key in, she thrusts her hand down, wincing as she reaches through the cold water. That should wake her up if she tries to, tries to . . . But here Katherine falters. She does not look in the mirror. Although she wants to, although the pull of it is a physical ache.
No matter what happens, she must not look in the mirror.
Instead, she puts the bedding in the bath. She angles her cumbersome body as best she can and closes her eyes.
Why were you standing over Lucas’s bed with a pillow? Where were you when Matthew fell?
But she can’t think about that now. She just has to make it through till morning.
It will all be okay tomorrow, she reminds herself, if you can just make it through the night.
30
Sael
They offer him a choice of beverages. Champagne, wine, a beer?
He asks for water. He has a lot of work to do, but more than that, he needs a clear head. He needs to think. The clouds skim under him; then he leans back, closes his eyes. Just for a moment he’ll enjoy the silence, the stillness. The captain says it should be a smooth flight now that the storm has cleared. The storm that caused hours of delays, that couldn’t have come at a worse time.
In just under thirteen hours, he’ll be home. He’s not sure he thinks of it as home. He thinks of it as back to Katherine. And is Katherine home? Surely home should be a place of safety, of comfort, of peace—and Katherine? Katherine is none of those things.
He was just beginning to come to terms with what had happened. The damage wrought, the trauma. David dead, killed by Katherine. Self-defense, he knows that, at least on the surface, but there was still anger, and still more anger at David himself. David, a serial killer, the Sickle Man. And he never knew. Never picked up any strange vibe or feeling or clue. If he could just sit down with David one more time and ask, Why? Why? Why? Why did you do it? How could he not have known?
Because he had met Katherine and she had thrown him into chaos. Refusing to play his games, introducing her own. He was obsessed, possessed. And jealous, jealous of David, his best friend, whom he betrayed and then who betrayed him in turn. It could not be repaired. The only way forward was, well, forward. He got the name of a great shrink. He hadn’t believed in them, thought therapy was for the weak, but she was good. She called him on his shit, but didn’t judge him.
True, sometimes she did say, “And what do you think about that?”
But really, it was a fair question. What did he think? What did he feel?
“You need closure,” she had said. “You can’t hide from this. I guess you could, but ultimately you’ll have to make peace of a sort with it, whatever that peace looks like for you.”
And the job offer had come up: challenging, hard work. An opportunity in all senses of the word.
“Hard work is excellent.” His shrink was a fan. “But before you go, I think you should tie up loose ends. This will give you the motivation, an opportunity to set things right.”
He had been a nervous wreck trying to work out what would be best. A public place, a neutral time of day. Nothing says closure like coffee in a diner at four p.m. No possibility for one drink to lead to another and into his bed. No, he would act like an adult. And maybe she wouldn’t even reply. God knows he had shut her out, pushed her away. The woman he loved, had wanted to marry.
But when Katherine walked in, all his carefully drawn-out scenarios dissolved. She looked different, although he couldn’t put his finger on how. It wasn’t just him either. He saw the way other people watched her. There was something about her. A glow? Could it have just been that? A man in a diner booth had seemed to upset her. He had wanted to know what was going on, wanted to defend her. At the same time, he wanted to attack her himself. She was bringing out everything that was uncertain and uneven and roiling within him. Part of him, a large part, wanted to leap across the table and lift her up, kiss her and fuck her. Bury his face in her neck and weep. Hold her. And he wanted her to hold him and tell him that it would all be all right. But none of that had happened. They sat across from each other and made polite conversation. She seemed to be coping. He hadn’t even thought of Lucas. What must that be like for both of them? She became more animated, warmer, when she spoke about him. He was jealous, a shameful thing he kept from even his therapist. Lucas, what a strange
little kid. He had known about David somehow, and he would now have Katherine for life.
And he, Sael, would have closure. She seemed to take his announcement about leaving calmly enough. But what had he expected? Tears and begging? Oh, Sael, please don’t go?
“That’s on you,” his shrink said. “Those are your projections, your fantasies, your fears and hopes.”
It was sad saying good-bye.
“You’re allowed to be sad,” his shrink told him. “But also you’re allowed to move on, and let go.”
Then he had seen them both weeping on the sidewalk, and over hot chocolate everything imploded.
Now he understands his mistake.
He had been so focused on them coming that he forgot to think about what it would be like when they came. He didn’t know how Katherine had changed.
She was prickly and unpredictable. He never knew what would set her off. He supposed it was the hormones, but that didn’t make it easier to live with. And she seemed so lost, so purposeless. He wanted to comfort her and he wanted to shake her. After all, it was due to him that they were there, but she was a grown woman; she had also had a choice. What else was he supposed to do? And Georgie had been easy to talk to.
George, Georgie, Georgiana.
He had thought it was funny he had assumed Georgie was a man. Her initial emails had been pretty gender neutral in tone. She had been a godsend. Organized, funny, easygoing, with a self-deprecating sense of humor, her dry, delicious accent like a spritzer, her sudden infectious laugh. With Georgie, he never worried about what would piss her off or hurt her. She didn’t look at him blankly at times, as if she didn’t know him. She remembered past conversations. Maybe it was all smoke up his ass, but she seemed to take a genuine interest in his thoughts, opinions, what he felt. She knew the world he was in, appreciated the pressure he was under, what it took to do what he did. It would have been so great if she and Katherine could have become friends, but of course Katherine wasn’t having any of that. That moment in the kitchen seemed frozen in her mind. She took everything the wrong way, even with the dog, which ultimately had been for her. He didn’t know what he had done wrong, only that he had miscalculated badly.
Yes, Georgie was beautiful, and yes, she was young, but it wasn’t just that, not by a long shot. She knew how to make him laugh, how to make him relax. He found himself eager to go to work, to connect. He honestly couldn’t pinpoint when the texts, in the beginning so businesslike, began to turn more playful. Nor could he say exactly when they started to get lunch, and when it had become less about work and more about their day, what they had done on the weekends. The more he looked forward to coming to work, the more he dreaded coming home.
He thinks of them as the night visits.
He had woken with a start to find Katherine straddling him. She had covered his mouth with one hand, and with the other she had reached down and taken him, stroking and pulling with a confident, almost painful firmness, and then she had slid down and taken him inside her so fast it almost took his breath away. He had almost cried out with the surprise and the shock of it, but she pushed her palm hard against his teeth and thrust and thrust against him. And almost before he could regain himself, she had dismounted, rolled off, disappeared. At first he thought she had gone to the bathroom and would be back, but as the minutes stretched on into a growing silence he realized that she would not be returning. In the morning, he almost wondered if it had been a dream. She made no mention of it, so neither did he.
But two nights later, it happened again. This time he woke to her sucking his dick. He would always wake out of sleep, with her sometimes upon him, sometimes taking him into her mouth, or in her hands. Always in silence. If he tried to say anything, she would cover his mouth. It was rough; there was an undercurrent of violence. She was almost feral in her hunger for him. Her hunger was frightening. It was immense. Yes, there was a part of him that wanted it, craved it, desired her, but more and more he began to fear these encounters. He would look up at her as she rode him, and she seemed so cold and so fierce. She kissed him as if she could and would consume him.
He now sleeps in the room he’s taken as his office. He is going to bed later these days and he doesn’t want to disturb her. If he’s honest, though, he knows that it’s more than the work. There’s something dehumanizing about these interactions and he wants to avoid her.
Meanwhile, Georgie asks him how he’s doing, asks him how his day was, how the meeting went, how Lucas is getting on at school, how Cordy is doing. Meanwhile, he’s staying later at work. Meanwhile, he and Georgie eat takeout, Indian, sushi, food that Katherine can’t eat in her pregnant state. Meanwhile, he needs to go to Hong Kong for ten days. So does Georgie.
It had been coming for a while. And then they were there, together, miles away from everyone and everything. It made sense, after the second day, to have a drink, or two or three, and then to ride up in the elevator, only she wasn’t stopping on her floor; she was coming to his. They continued to make small talk there, as if this was normal and they did this all the time. Then he opened his door with the sliding card, and they were in each other’s arms.
“At last,” she had breathed into his ear, “at last.”
And after they had made love, she had stayed. Holding her, he couldn’t believe he had missed it so much. Another body pressed against his own. Someone to watch over and to protect.
He didn’t think he felt guilty. Georgie was Georgie, and Katherine was Katherine. She had known he wasn’t happy, had known it for a long time, and that was all there was to say. It was only when, toward the end of the week, Katherine sent him a picture of just her smiling up at him in front of yet another castle that he began to feel that gnawing sensation. Because being with Georgie reminded him of how much he loved Katherine. After that, every time he holds Georgie close, or kisses her, or enters her, it’s Katherine he holds, Katherine he kisses, Katherine he enters.
He has to tell Georgie.
He feels sorry for Georgie, but she’s beautiful and she’s young and she’s smart and she’s rich, and she’ll find somebody else. Someone who appreciates her, someone who doesn’t have a pregnant partner, someone who isn’t already in love. He will get home and he will tell Katherine everything. He will make them sit down and talk, no matter how hard it is. He only prays it isn’t too late.
He can’t sleep with the longing to tell her. This is the longest flight of his life. And as soon as they land he tries to call, but his phone is dead. Something has gone wrong with the charger on the plane.
He’s caught in traffic, tapping and tapping his fingers.
And then he’s home, finally home.
“Katherine?” he calls. “Lucas?”
No answer, but he’s moving through the house, dark and silent, still calling. He plugs in his phone, stares at it with hatred until it charges up. There’s a message from Katherine. An accident. A bad one. Matthew has fallen from the parapet. He’s in the hospital. Can’t be moved. She’s trying to work out how to get back. She and Lucas are okay. She doesn’t know why she can’t get hold of him. Hopes he’s okay.
Sael has to sit down. His legs won’t hold him. An accident, but thank God they’re okay. He calls her, but it goes straight to voicemail.
“Katherine? Hi, I’m so sorry, there was a massive storm and we were delayed, and then my phone died. Listen, call me back as soon as you get this and we’ll make a plan. I’ll come and get you guys. I’m so sorry about Matthew. Just hang tight, I’m coming. I—”
Say it, you shithead, just say it!
“I love you.”
He hangs up the phone. He’s exhausted. He’ll have a shower; then he’ll try her again, work out where she is, how to get to her. His head is pounding, his ears are ringing, and no, it’s coming from the front door, someone is there.
Sael opens the door and sees a large man, possibly in his sixties and on the heavy side, standing there. Shadowed eyes gaze from the lined wreckage of his face into Sael’
s own.
“Yes?”
“Are you Katherine’s husband?” the man asks, and Sael nods. For all purposes he is her husband and she, his wife. They’re only missing the paper and rings that makes it official.
“I’m Cathal.”
Sael stands there blankly.
“Niamh’s husband?” the man says.
“Niamh?” Yes, that rings a bell; then something registers. Niamh is Katherine’s friend, also pregnant. But why is her husband here? Did Niamh go with Katherine to Wales? He doesn’t understand what’s going on, only knows that something is not right. Is very far from right. “Is something wrong?”
The man’s haggard face tightens with strain. “I don’t know. I’m looking for Niamh, but I think, I think, they might be together.”
“Come in,” Sael says, holding the door.
31
Lucas
Lucas is having a bad dream.
He’s walking through the woods, tangled and green, with Cordelia by his side. Sunlight shines through the leaves. They hear a whistle, and Cordy runs ahead.
“Wait, Cordy, wait!” he calls, but Cordy is bounding ahead, and there is a clearing.
In the clearing stands a lady. She has long dark hair and wears a long green dress. Lucas thinks he’s seen her before. She stands there, stirring a big pot, like the witch’s pot he saw in the Halloween parade back in New York. The lady dips in a large spoon and pours out some food into a bowl. It’s a dog-food bowl, Cordy’s bowl. She holds out the bowl for Cordy, but Lucas knows that the food is bad. It’s like chocolate for dogs, but it’s much worse.
Don’t eat that, Cordy! Lucas tries to shout, but he has no voice. Get away from her!
He’s sprinting, but he knows that he will never be in time. The lady grins at him through the trees, and Lucas sees her teeth are red. He screams, and then he’s awake.
He’s not in the woods. He’s in Wales. He’s in the room he shares with Kat.
