One of the Girls(79)
‘Bella!’ The name was shouted again.
This time, she sat up, head spinning. On the clifftop, she saw the distant outline of a person. Wait, two people. She rubbed her eyes, salt stinging at their edges. Then the people began to separate, move, running in opposite directions.
Dizzied by the strangeness of the night, she looked around, uncertain. Moonlight bathed the sea silver, but her rowing boat drifted in the cliff’s shadow, dark and unseen.
She caught the distant sound of splashing.
Her gaze swung across the water. Was someone out here?
She grabbed the oars, hauling them deep, head turned over her shoulder, searching.
There was more splashing, like something flapping on the surface of the sea. Then a voice. Definitely a voice. ‘Help!’
There! She saw something raised from the water. A hand! A silver bangle caught in the moonlight.
‘I’m coming!’ she called, rowing hard.
Someone was clawing at the surface. Dark hair slicked to a scalp, head scarcely above the waterline, eyes panicked.
‘Bella Rossi.’
‘Help me!’
For a moment, she was unsure: real, or dream? Was this simply an imagined scenario, like the ones she toyed with during sleepless nights, planning all the ways she could make Bella suffer?
Eleanor tightened her grip on the wooden oars, while all around her the sea and night wavered, distorting.
Then there was Bella’s voice again, barely more than a gurgle, pleading for help.
Did Sam beg for his life? she wondered.
Did he gasp for breath?
Huh.
She sat very still as she watched Nurse Rossi slip right beneath the surface.
Eleanor closed her eyes. As the boat rocked gently, her thoughts felt muffled by alcohol.
Strangely, she heard Sam’s voice. It was so warm and familiar, as if he were in the rowing boat, talking to her. She remained still, wanting to catch every word. She waited to hear his casual tone – as if life were only a ride, a bit of a pleasing joke and he was in on it, and if she stuck with him, she would be, too.
‘Help,’ he said.
Eleanor was thinking, Yes, I’ll help you. I will do whatever you want …
‘Help!’
Her eyes snapped open because it wasn’t Sam but Bella.
Her fingers were raking at the sea as she slipped under, disappearing.
Like Sam had disappeared.
No, it was wrong. All wrong!
Eleanor yanked an oar from its rowlock and thrust it towards her. ‘Grab on!’
Bella lunged for it, gasping, thrashing. Her fingers reached it – and Eleanor braced herself against Bella’s weight as she pulled her towards the boat.
When she was near enough, she reached down, grabbing Bella by the shoulders and dragging her upwards. The boat rocked wildly, Bella’s breath hot in her face, wet fingers grasping at Eleanor’s clothes. She felt herself unbalancing, leaning too close to the water. She couldn’t go over! Couldn’t swim!
Eleanor ripped Bella’s hands away – slamming back to the far side of the boat, hearing the splash as Bella plunged back into the sea. She cried out, her voice desperate, fingers clawing against the hull.
Eleanor knew she should help her.
She really should.
Eleanor had spent a long time hating this woman. She’d wanted her to suffer, just like Sam had, yet now – in this moment, when she had the choice of whether Bella lived or not – she knew she couldn’t let Bella Rossi die.
She crossed the boat, keeping her knees bent and her body braced against the rocking. Then she reached down, grabbing Bella firmly by the shoulders. With a fierce surge of exertion, she hauled her over the side.
They both collapsed into the boat, a tangle of limbs, Bella soaked and gasping, a sodden red wrap knotted at her neck.
Eleanor peeled it free, then gathered the dry blanket from the boat floor and draped it around Bella’s shoulders.
Bella was shaking hard, sobbing, unable to catch her breath. Her face was wretched in the moonlight, hair pasted across her forehead, lips peeled back, breathing hard. ‘I could’ve drowned.’
Eleanor stared at her. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘You almost did.’
73
Bella
Bella hugged the blanket tight around herself. Her entire body trembled. She kept replaying the moment she’d gone over the cliff edge: the dry-mouthed plummet towards the sea, then the punch of water slamming into her body – like something solid, not liquid. She must have blacked out for a few moments, as all she remembered after that was floating on the surface, winded, alone, certain she was going to die …
But Eleanor saved her.
She took a breath. Air, beautiful air in her lungs! She pressed her feet into the solid wood of the boat. Drew another breath. The sea rocked them steadily, like a mother’s touch against a cradle.
‘Thank you,’ Bella said after a time, looking at Eleanor. ‘You saved my life.’
‘And you,’ Eleanor said, her voice low, thoughtful, ‘ended another.’
Bella blinked, uncomprehending.
‘Sam Maine,’ Eleanor said.
Just two words. A name that echoed in the darkest corner of Bella’s mind. She waited, unsure whether this was real … whether Eleanor had said that name … whether it was the shock of falling … She shook her head. Tried to speak, but no words came out.