The Girls Who Disappeared(45)
‘I told you. Stan needed help. Woman trouble.’ Not one of his friends is in a couple as far as she’s aware. ‘It’s never bothered you before.’
‘Well, it bothers me now.’
He laughs nastily. ‘Oh, I see, I get it. You’ve just used me for all these years, is that it? And now you’re stronger, now your leg is getting better, you don’t need me any more. Well, fuck you, Olivia. Fuck you.’
‘Wes …’
He storms out. She doesn’t follow him.
She is still in the tack room, slumped on the bench, when her mum walks in. The fading light casts shadows along the tiled floor.
‘What are you doing sitting in here alone?’ asks her mother, when she spots Olivia. She’s holding a red grooming kit with a hoof pick sticking out of the top. She places it on a shelf along with the others. Olivia hadn’t known her mother was back. She’d picked her up from the standing stones earlier and dropped her home, then said she’d had to go to the cash-and-carry to get supplies. Her mother has been gone for ages. ‘Have you brought Sky back in from the field?’
‘Yes, she’s in the stables.’ Olivia brushes down her jodhpurs. She must stink of horses. The soles of her riding boots are caked with mud. ‘And the vet came earlier and sorted out Pickles.’
Her mother turns to her, her face softening. ‘It’s a hard day, I know.’
Olivia doesn’t say anything. Instead she plucks the horse hair from her jodhpurs.
‘I love you so much, you know that, don’t you?’
Olivia’s head shoots up in surprise. Her mum doesn’t often profess endearments. ‘Of course. And I love you too.’
Her mother comes and sits beside her, reaches over and pats her knee awkwardly. ‘I like Wesley, you know I do, but I’m worried you’re not happy.’
It’s on the tip of her tongue to blurt it all out, to confide in her mother – her doubts about Wesley, her unhappiness. And to ask the questions she’s always been afraid to. But once she says it all she’ll never be able to unsay it. It will be out there, in the ether.
‘Don’t you ever worry that our lives are just so … small?’ she asks instead.
Her mother fidgets next to her. ‘Small?’
‘It’s always been the two of us. And then Wesley. You’ve never really had a relationship apart from my father, and you said you were only together for a short time.’
Her mum laughs suddenly. ‘What? Of course I had other boyfriends before that, and since you were born. I just didn’t advertise it. You were always my priority.’
‘And friends. You never see them any more either. Since … well, since the accident.’
Her mother closes her eyes. ‘How could I? Let’s not rake all this up now, love.’ She presses her thumb and forefinger to the bridge of her nose and sighs. Then she seems to rally herself. ‘Come on.’ She gets up and holds out a hand. ‘Why don’t we watch a film tonight, a feel-good movie? While You Were Sleeping is on at nine.’
‘There’s something I need to do first. But maybe later.’
Her mother nods and smiles but Olivia can see the worry behind her eyes. They walk back through the stables and towards the house together. She’d better hurry – Jenna will be waiting. Her mother goes into the house and Olivia keeps walking until she reaches the end of the car park. She wavers. Can she really do this? Yes. Yes, she can. She must. She’s got a voice and for the first time in twenty years she’s going to use it.
Olivia zips up her yellow raincoat over her thick jumper and black jodhpurs and pulls her bobble hat further down onto her hair, her breath fogging out into the gloaming. Then she heads out of the stables to the lane opposite, towards Jenna’s waiting car.
28
Suspicion
When Stace woke up the next morning she found she was alone in the huge bed. The French windows were ajar, the white voile curtains fluttering in the slight breeze, and voices rose from below. She grabbed the dress she’d discarded on the chair last night and pulled it over her head before stepping onto the veranda. The impressive wrought-iron gates were open and John-Paul and Derreck were heading out of them, with Trevor, Griff and Martin following, nattering away like excitable kids off on a school trip. What was going on? She didn’t even know what time it was. She must have overslept. And where were the girls? She felt disoriented and a little irritated that John-Paul hadn’t woken her. Their first day in a strange country and he was already off gallivanting with this Derreck and the other lads. She was tempted to call after them but didn’t want to look like some possessive girlfriend in front of Derreck. Instead she watched as they headed onto the busy street and hailed a couple of tuk-tuks.
After she’d changed into a pair of frayed denim shorts and a strappy vest, making sure to slather her skin in sunscreen, she headed downstairs, the marble tiles cool against the soles of her feet. The villa felt like a sanctuary, their own little oasis, but she knew that just outside stood a bustling, smelly, sweaty metropolis and John-Paul had just been swallowed into it. She didn’t feel ready to face it.
‘Hey, there she is,’ called Hannah, as Stace wandered into the huge kitchen. The doors were flung open onto the garden and she could see Maggie perched at the edge of the pool in a bright cerise bikini, her legs immersed in the water, a glass of juice to her lips and large purple sunglasses pushed back onto her dark hair. She looked back at them over her shoulder and waved. Leonie was making herself at home in the kitchen in a garish floral one-piece, her deep cleavage already red. Hannah was standing in the doorway in a green bikini, her towel draped over the sun-lounger. She was tall and androgynous and her light brown curls were pulled back in a ponytail. She turned her freckled face to Stace. ‘Why haven’t you got your cossie on?’