Beautiful Broken Things(Beautiful Broken Things #1)(14)

‘Fourteen,’ Levina chirped.

‘Fourteen. She doesn’t like him. And he doesn’t like her either. They’ve been having fights and stuff.’

‘Clarise is a bitch,’ Rosie said. She speared a chunk of tomato. ‘Dave is trying really hard, and she keeps winding him up and stuff.’

‘Anyway, on Thursday, they had this big fight when Denise was at work,’ Maya continued. ‘And Clarise said that Dave was . . . what was it?’

‘Pathetic and past it,’ Levina supplied without hesitation.

‘And Dave slapped her,’ Maya finished. ‘That’s the big drama they’ve been leading up to.’

‘It was more of a punch than a slap,’ Levina said. ‘It was like . . .’ She lifted her hand and made an odd punching motion, but without a proper fist.

Rosie laughed. ‘What was that?’

‘Yeah, it didn’t really look like that, did it?’ Levina grinned and shrugged. ‘It was more than a slap though. That’s why the producers made such a big deal about it.’

‘Same thing,’ Maya said dismissively. ‘I think you’re supposed to feel sorry for Clarise, but seriously? She deserved it. She’s been such a bitch to him.’

My heart was pounding a strange, tense rhythm in my chest and my hands were clammy. I was starting to feel like I’d made a huge mistake bringing up this topic. The whole time they’d been speaking, Suzanne had sat in silence, watching them, her face completely blank – too blank. But when Maya made this comment, Suzanne’s whole face flinched and she closed her eyes for longer than a blink.

When she opened her eyes again, she caught me looking at her. Her eyes squinted slightly, clearly taking in the odd expression that I must have been making, then relaxed. I watched her rearrange her face into something normal again, like the flash of pain hadn’t even happened.

‘You can’t say things like that,’ Levina scolded Maya, but her voice was playful rather than serious. None of them had noticed Suzanne’s changed mood. ‘He’s a grown man, and he did hit her, even if it was kind of more a slap.’

‘Oh, please,’ Maya said, rolling her eyes. ‘If she didn’t want to get a slap, she shouldn’t have wound him up.’

‘That sounds like a horrible storyline,’ I said.

Rosie reached over and took a fry from my plate. ‘It’s a soap – what did you expect? Do you know how many serial killers they’ve had in that one street? This is boring compared to those storylines.’

‘Maybe it’ll get more interesting,’ Levina said.

‘Maybe Clarise will finally shut up,’ Maya said. The three of them laughed.

Suzanne stood up abruptly, which was a feat considering she was bunched up in the corner of the booth.

‘I’ll be back in a sec,’ she said.

‘Want me to move?’ Levina asked.

‘No, it’s fine,’ Suzanne replied, already climbing over the back of her seat.

I watched her walk past the toilets, through the restaurant and straight out the front door. My stomach dropped and for a moment I thought I might be sick.

‘Can I have some of your milkshake?’ Maya leaned forward, her hand already reaching for my cup.

‘Sure,’ I said distractedly. I stood up. ‘I’ll be back in a sec.’

Rosie raised her eyebrows at me. ‘Everything OK?’

‘Brain freeze,’ I said, pointing at the milkshake. This didn’t really make much sense, but I was away from the booth before any of them could question me further.

It was so windy my hair flew right into my face the second I walked outside. I tried to claw it back around my ears, looking around for Suzanne. For a few moments I couldn’t see her, and then I realized she was on the other side of the road. Her back was to me, but her blonde head was unmistakable.

I crossed over the road with the usual crowds, trying as I went to think of the best thing to say. Should I open with an apology? Admit that I’d orchestrated the conversation but hadn’t realized what the outcome would be? I’d never seen her angry or upset. What if she was the confrontational kind? What would I do?

When I was inches away from her back I still hadn’t thought of what to say. She was leaning stomach-first against the railing, looking out to the sea. Her right hand was clutching her phone to her ear.

‘Will you please come and get me?’ she was saying. Her voice was strange, and it took me a moment to realize that that was because she was crying. I’d made her cry. ‘I know, but I can’t.’

As she said this, she glanced behind her, as if sensing my presence. When she saw me, she did a double take. Into the phone she said, ‘Five minutes? OK, ten. I’ll be there. Thanks.’ She lowered the phone from her ear and slid it into the pocket of her jeans. Her eyes were still on me.

This was the moment I was supposed to speak, but my mind was still completely blank. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

‘What do you want?’ she asked. The wind ripped the words from between us, taking the intonation of her voice with it. I had no idea whether her question had been confrontational or genuine.

Tears were coursing down her face. Everything I associated with her – the confidence, the presence, the sparkle – was gone. It was mascara-stained to her cheeks.