Laura's Locket

by Tima Maria Lacoba

  Philippe chuckled, ‘You’re so innocent.’ His expression changed—sobered. He rose, went over to the table and blew out the candles. ‘I promised to take you home by three.’

  The candles on the windowsills had burned low. Although the fire in the grate was still strong, the scent of the burning wood mingled with the smell of the fishing nets. It was pungent, but I didn’t mind. I could stay all night, but then how would I explain my absence to Beth and Angie? They’d be shocked—as would my family if they knew. I had to get back, yet Philippe had me spellbound and my conflicting emotions were waging a battle.

  I sat up. ‘I know. My friends mustn’t see me sneaking back to our suite. I haven’t told them about you.’

  ‘What are your plans for the day?’

  ‘Just hanging around Sorrento. It’s our last night before we head off to Positano.’

  ‘I’m sorry, you’ll be tired tomorrow.’

  ‘I’m wide awake now!’ I gazed up at him longingly while trying to blink away the heaviness of my eyelids.

  He chuckled, came back to my side and kissed me again, long and deeply. Although my breath left me, I didn’t want it to end. But it did. Philippe rose in one fluid movement, pulled me after him and held me tight for a moment before releasing me. I wondered why he hadn’t tried to sleep with me, and I didn’t want to ask why. In some way I was relieved. I wasn’t ready.

  On the ride back to the hotel, I leant my head against his back. In spite of my earlier words, I was growing tired. My eyes were closed as Philippe steered the motorbike along the quiet streets.

  As on the previous two nights, he escorted me to my suite on the fourth floor of the hotel. ‘Tomorrow night?’ he asked.

  I didn’t know if I could keep existing on a couple of hours sleep per night. Yet, I couldn’t help myself. The days were too long till I could see him again.

  ‘Tomorrow night.’

  He took my face in his hands and kissed me goodnight. I watched him walk away before closing the door.

  * * *

  ‘Where have you been?’ Beth stood in the lounge, hands on her hips. Her eyes brimmed with tears.

  ‘We’ve been worried sick, Laura!’ Angie said. ‘Beth rang your aunt—’

  ‘I didn’t have the courage to let your parents know, so I rang your aunt Judy instead. She gave me her number before we left.’

  My stomach sank.

  ‘I was ready to call the police!’ Beth sank onto the sofa and burst into tears.

  I ran over and crouched on the floor in front of her. ‘I’m so sorry, so sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you—’

  ‘Then why did you do it then?’ Angie cried before joining Beth on the sofa. ‘When we came in from the disco, we saw your bedroom door closed and dark so we thought you were asleep. If not for the fire alarm—’

  ‘You had a fire?’

  ‘It was a false alarm, but we had to be evacuated anyway. The staff knocked on everyone’s doors to get them out. I raced to your room and you weren’t there!’ She glared at me. ‘The hotel staff have been running around looking for you!’

  I buried my face in my hands at the sickening realization of what I had done to my friends. No amount of apology could atone for this, and a hot blush scalded my cheeks. I couldn’t blame them if they wouldn’t want to continue our trip after this.

  ‘Where were you, Laura?’ I looked up to see Beth wiping her eyes. The hurt I saw in them broke my heart and I began to cry.

  ‘I’m so sorry… I… It was stupid of me not to leave a note or something, I know… but he—’

  ‘He?’ Angie said.

  I nodded. ‘Philippe.’

  Angie’s eyes widened, and she shook her head. ‘You’ve been with him, all this time?’

  I nodded again. She threw her hands in the air and groaned. I told them everything and showed them Philippe’s note with the attached shell. After I finished, Beth rose and rang my aunt. She held the phone out to me. ‘You talk to her.’

  They sat and watched.

  I took a deep breath. Aunt Judy answered. ‘It’s me, Laura. Everything’s okay. I’m so sorry to have worried you.’ Her words were terse but I could tell it stemmed from concern. I could sense the tension on the other end; hear it in her voice and her disappointment. I recounted to her what I’d told the girls. She asked for his name. I told her. There was a few seconds silence on her side before she spoke again. She made me promise not to meet with him again; not without Beth and Angie being present.

  I promised.

  ‘You okay?’ Angie asked. ‘You’ve gone white, Laura.’ I nodded. That’s all I was capable of doing. That, and swiping away my tears. ‘What did she say?’

  ‘Made me promise not to meet him again unless you two are with me.’ The tears kept coming.

  ‘You’ve always been the most sensible one,’ Beth exclaimed. ‘This isn’t like you, Laura.’

  ‘Are you in love with him?’ Angie asked. ‘Because if you are it… kinda makes sense. Love makes you do stupid things. Remember me and Greg?’ She grimaced.

  Angie and Greg had started dating in Year Eleven. He’d gotten his driver’s license and was into drag racing. Angie hated the smell of petrol, but she was besotted by him. He took her for a race. The car flipped and she ended up in hospital. She wasn’t allowed to see him unless one of her parents was with them. A few months later they broke up.

  ‘I don’t know how I feel about him! But I so want to see him again, and I told him I would—tomorrow night, and now I promised Aunt Judy….’ I bit my lip and fingered the locket around my neck.

  ‘I don’t remember you having a locket like that.’ Angie pointed to it. ‘Nice.’

  ‘Philippe gave it to me.’

  Angie and Beth exchanged glances.

  ‘Can I have a look?’ Beth held out her hand. I undid the clasp and handed it to her. She opened the locket and examined it from every angle.

  ‘What are you looking for?’ I asked.

  ‘Drugs, you idiot,’ Beth replied. ‘Only a few grams can land you in jail in a foreign country.’

  A horrible churning started in my stomach. I didn’t want to believe Philippe would do something like that. But what did I know? I’d only met him two nights ago. I knew nothing about him or where he was staying. He didn’t even give me a contact number. Was I really such a naïve idiot?

  ‘It’s clean.’ Beth handed the locket back. ‘Maybe he is okay.’ She crouched on the floor next to me and gave me a tight hug. ‘Don’t ever do something like that again!’

  I hugged her back. ‘What’ll I do, Beth?’

  Angie joined us and threw her arms around both of us. ‘Beth and I’ll go—as your body guards!’

  ‘Just as you agreed with your aunt,’ Beth said.

  How on earth will I face him? I thought. But a promise was a promise.

  * * *

  We spent the day shopping in Sorrento, and although I tried to keep my mind off Philippe, it wasn’t possible. The closer the time came to our meeting, the more tense I became.

  At eleven Beth and Angie accompanied me to the ground floor. They intended to sit inconspicuously in the public lounge and keep an eye on me—or rather, on Philippe. No romantic trips out of the hotel.

  My heart beat double time as the elevator slowly descended.

  The doors slid open to an empty lobby. On the last two occasions he’d been waiting for me.

  ‘Laura, we’ll be over there.’ Beth pointed to a set of sofas. Angie waved as they moved off.

  My nervousness returned. How was I going to explain the situation to Philippe? Would he understand? I checked my watch. He’d never been late before. I paced the lobby. Half an hour later Philippe still hadn’t appeared.

  Where was he? I turned to where the girls sat, and shrugged, then I began to worry. ‘Something’s wrong. He’s never been late before.’

  ‘Wait a bit longer. Maybe he’s been held up,’ Beth suggested stifling a yawn.

  We waited till midnight. An
gie had fallen asleep on the sofa. I was panicking. ‘He’s had an accident,’ I said. ‘We should tell the man at reception to ring the hospital and find out.’

  ‘Laura, are you sure he hasn’t just stood you up?’

  ‘No!’ I tugged on the locket around my neck. ‘Would he give me this if he wasn’t going to show?’

  Beth chewed on her lower lip—a sure sign that she was thinking. ‘Okay, you go to the front desk and I’ll wake Angie.’

  I raced to the reception counter and hoped the night clerk understood English. He did. There was only one hospital in Sorrento, the Santa Maria Misericordia—if there had been an accident, Philippe would be taken there. He kindly rang them.

  ‘Philippe Reynard,’ I told him. ‘He’s French, from Paris.’

  The man smiled at me as he waited for the hospital to check their records. ‘Ah, grazie. Buonna Notte.’ He ended the call. ‘I’m sorry, signorina, but no one with that name has been admitted.’

  ‘And there’ve been no accidents… people taken to another hospital elsewhere?’

  ‘No, signorina. It’s been a quiet season. I’m sorry. Maybe he will ring you tomorrow.’ He gave me one of those sympathetic looks, reserved for tourist-girls-stood-up-by-local-guys.

  ‘Thank you.’ I didn’t know what else to say.

  Beth placed her arm around my shoulders. ‘No luck?’

  I shook my head. It didn’t make sense. Was he suddenly called away, and didn’t have time to leave a note? We were scheduled to leave tomorrow. He knew that. Perhaps he’d contact me in Positano. But I never told him the name of the hotel.

  Angie yawned, pushed her curly hair off her face and said, ‘C’mon Laura, let’s go to bed. It’s been a killer night… or morning… whatever.’

  ‘I don’t understand!’ I cried. ‘He said he’d be here. Why isn’t he? What if he’s lying hurt, somewhere on the street—in a coma?’ I clutched the filigree locket tightly in my palm hoping it would somehow magically summon him to me.

  ‘Oh sweetie, don’t torture yourself.’ Beth hugged me. ‘Some men… well, they see a gorgeous girl like you, and it’s like a game to them—a challenge.’

  I pulled out of her embrace and vehemently shook my head. ‘No, not him!’ It can’t be.

  ‘Laura, how do you know he isn’t married or something?’ Angie stated.

  ‘Because he told me he wasn’t! Said no woman had a claim on him.’ Could he have lied? Acid burned in my throat.

  Angie said gently, ‘Men lie. They do it all the time. Remember the guys at school?’

  I shook my head again. No, no, no. Could it all have been just a joke to him? A deep hollow pit opened up in my stomach. The acid burned deeper.

  There wasn’t much left of the night when we returned to our suite. Sleep eluded me, and I tossed and turned from one side of the bed to the other. My mind replayed every moment since we’d met, lingering longest on the romantic interlude in the fisherman’s hut last night. It couldn’t have been a game to him. Could it?

  I closed my eyes and once again felt the firmness of his lips on mine, the strength of his arms, saw the deep blue of his eyes as they gazed into mine.

  I tucked the note he’d left on my window a couple of nights ago under my pillow, hoping it would bring him to me in my dreams, at least. The silver locket was still around my neck. I vowed never to take it off, and as my fingers traced the outline of its surface, my heart splintered and the tears I’d held back cascaded down my face onto the pillow.

  The next day I left a note for Philippe with the hotel clerk—just in case.

  I wasn’t in the mood to talk when we boarded the train for Positano, and even as we pulled out of the station, I hung out of the window hoping his tall figure was among the crowds.

  ‘Close it, Laura. It’s cold,’ Angie said. Her tone was clipped, and there were dark circles under her eyes.

  The sun shone brightly, not a cloud in the sky. It could have been summer, but for the icy wind blowing in from the sea.

  Beth linked her arm through mine. ‘Amalfi Coast, Laura. You’ve been looking forward to it.’

  I nodded and blindly stared at the passing scenery.

  * * *

  Four weeks later…

  The crowd on the university campus jostled me and Angie as I tried to find the clubs to join. We had barely returned from our trip to Italy when our enrolment papers arrived. Each of us had managed to get into the courses we’d chosen, but Beth’s was at another university, on the other side of the city.

  Angie and I clutched our university ID cards and excitedly checked out the myriad of campus societies who’d set up marquees on the lawn in the main quadrangle. Each had groups of people milling around or standing in a queue to sign up.

  The range of choices was mind-boggling.

  ‘Okay if we split and I go over there?’ Angie pointed to a white marquee with the sign, “Eggheads and Boffins Science Club.” Science was her love and I knew she looked forward to a career in Food Technology.

  ‘Go, have fun, Angie. I’m fine. I promise.’ I smiled and crossed my heart. No more moping over Philippe, I angrily told myself.

  She grinned at me. ‘Meet you here, in this spot, in an hour.’ I gave her a quick hug and she joined the queue. She’d worn a bright orange mini-skirt that stood out like a beacon—so I’d find her anywhere should we get separated.

  I took a deep breath and scanned the campus. There was a particular group I wanted to join after seeing their advert in the Campus News—one of a whole bundle of papers in our enrolment package.

  As I fingered the locket around my neck, Philippe’s face sprang into my mind—the hurt of never hearing from him again, still fresh. Each night I had waited for a phone call, a note, anything. Maybe the girls were right, and I’d been just a game to him, a fun way to pass the time while in Sorrento.

  I rubbed the aching spot on my chest and again felt the locket beneath my fingers. Several times I was tempted to throw it away—but didn’t. Some perverse part of me still believed he’d never intended to leave me like that. Was I a romantic idiot?

  Since then the pain has lessened, though I vowed never to fall for a guy that easily again. Lesson learned.

  I shook off the memory and glanced around, trying to see past the hordes of students. Many of them bumped into me in their eagerness to reach friends or the crowded stalls. Then I saw it—a red and white striped marquee with the sign: Historical Society. Pictures of old houses, archaeological sites, even weapons—replicas, I assumed—adorned the poles and display tables. The two guys and one girl behind the counter wore period costume.

  Seeing an opening, I pressed through the crowd and tripped over the rope that secured the marquee to the ground peg. A pair of arms reached down and caught me.

  ‘Hey, you okay?’ A deep, male voice asked. A tall, brown haired guy dressed as a Viking looked down at me, smiling. His grey eyes were ringed with blue.

  ‘Yeah, fine, thanks.’ I tried to keep my voice level to hide my embarrassment.

  ‘I kinda like the idea of a girl falling for me!’ He grinned and the pupils in his eyes expanded almost obscuring the grey.

  ‘That the best line you got?’ I tried not to laugh as I brushed down my shorts.

  ‘Nah, heaps more, even worse than that one.’ His face lit up as he laughed—so infectious I couldn’t help but join in.

  ‘My name’s Tim.’

  ‘I’m Laura.’

  ‘This yours?’ He bent and picked up my locket from the grass.

  ‘Um, thanks.’ The clasp was broken, and for a fleeting moment, as I peered at it, Philippe’s face appeared in my mind. I pushed the image aside, and slipped the locket into my short’s pocket.

  ‘’Would’ve been a pity to have lost it. It’s beautiful,’ Tim said, ‘like you.’

  His compliment caught me off guard. Philippe had called me beautiful. That ache in my chest again. I looked away and mumbled a quick thanks.

  ‘Look, I’m just about to
break for lunch? Join me?’

  I leafed through the information leaflets scattered on the table. ‘I’m, uh… not sure. I’m supposed to meet a friend here.’

  ‘Okay, I should’ve known.’ I heard the disappointment in his voice.

  I smiled as I guessed what he must be thinking and glanced up at him. ‘Girlfriend. My bestie.’

  His face brightened. ‘Crazy-orange-skirt, girl?’