One of the Girls(18)

A dancer. That’s who she’d been, once. Eleanor had captured her expression perfectly. When Lexi was in the moment – lost in music, dancing, connecting to the rhythm – that had been her bliss.

The bronze was cool beneath her fingertips as she traced her enraptured mouth. Sometimes she still craved the applause of an audience, the glitter of a stage outfit, the party afterwards, the effervescence of adrenaline sparkling.

Would she crave the feel of a different man’s arms, the novelty of a hotel room, the honeyed sensation of desire deep between her legs? Maybe, maybe she would.

‘I love Ed,’ she said out loud to the night. He did thoughtful things like arranging for a bottle of champagne to be waiting for Lexi and her friends on a night out, or surprising her with a delivery of fresh croissants on a Saturday morning when he was away for the weekend. She loved that he took his mother out for dinner every fortnight, and that he secretly enjoyed watching trashy television to wind down after work.

What was this, then? This creeping fear she couldn’t shake? She glanced over her shoulder, where the mountains crouched, black and heavy. She wished they were staying closer to town. She wanted to feel the pulse of other people, see the twinkling lights of tavernas or the boats in the harbour, or hear the passing engines of mopeds.

Out here, they were so isolated. They had no car. No way of leaving. Standing in the empty darkness, Lexi experienced a strange, creeping sensation prickle across her neck: she wasn’t alone.

She listened, alert. Cicadas calling. The low hum of the sea.

She turned.

The pool was ahead of her, lit by a greenish underwater glow.

She blinked.

The sculpture slipped from her fingers, clattering against the table.

Floating face down in the pool was a body.





13

Eleanor

Eleanor held herself still, water sealing her nose, pressing against her open eyes, muffling her ears, weighting the cotton of her T-shirt.

The desire for air was elemental, urgent, kicking her in the chest, screaming at her to Breathe!

She held firm as her lungs burned.

Suddenly there was an explosion of noise, the water bubbling white, a gargled scream – then pain wrenching at her scalp.

She was being yanked upwards by her hair. Her arms flailed, swinging out. A crash of limbs, of water, of words. She caught her name, before plunging under again, eyes wide to the chlorinated sting.

She managed to find her footing, push to the surface, gasping.

Lexi was in the pool, face stricken, voice shrill as she shouted, ‘Eleanor! Eleanor!’

Eleanor jerked away, sucking air deep into her chest.

‘Are you okay?’ Lexi cried, face ashen.

‘Yes … I …’

‘What the hell were you doing?’

‘I … I was … floating.’

Gripping at the roots of her hair, Lexi said, ‘I thought … it looked like … like you were dead.’

Oh. Well, yes. Eleanor could see how that might work: her floating in the pool in the middle of the night, face down. ‘I see.’

‘You’re in your clothes!’

She looked down, suddenly aware that she wasn’t wearing a bra and her wet T-shirt was clinging rather unflatteringly to the folds of her stomach. She clamped her arms across her middle. ‘I don’t have a swimsuit.’

‘Why not?’

‘I didn’t think I’d need one. I … I can’t actually swim.’

Lexi was staring at her as if she were mad. ‘But you’re in the pool.’

‘The shallows. Only the shallows where I can stand up. See,’ she said, lifting her arms. ‘Standing.’

Lexi looked utterly lost.

The water settled around them, light ripples lapping at their waists. ‘Why get in the pool?’

These were all fair questions, but now that Lexi was asking them, Eleanor found her answers were coming out a bit strange. ‘I couldn’t sleep.’

Lexi stared at her, a frown creasing her forehead.

‘I was too hot. I didn’t want to run the shower and wake Ana. I overheat.’

‘You overheat?’

‘I overheat,’ Eleanor repeated. Her lips began to curl upwards at the absurdity of this moment. Here they were, both drenched, standing in the shallow end of a pool in the middle of the night. Her nose began to wrinkle, her mouth splitting into a grin – and then she was laughing, the sound bubbling from her chest in a cascade of relief. Her shoulders shook.

And then Lexi was laughing, too, covering her mouth with her hands, her knees bending helplessly.

Eleanor clutched herself, bending double, eyelids creased. Her whole body was shuddering. She staggered to the poolside, gripping on. She hadn’t laughed in so long.

‘Oh God!’ Lexi gasped through another peal of laughter. ‘I really thought you were dead.’

‘I know!’ she managed. ‘You ripped half my hair out!’

‘I panicked!’ Lexi choked out. ‘It looked like you’d topped your—’ her laughter stalled.

Eleanor blanched.

There was a terrible, loaded silence.

Lexi looked mortified. ‘I … I …’

‘So Ed’s told you,’ Eleanor said eventually, her voice low.

Lexi hesitated. ‘Yes, yes he did.’