Dead to Her(39)

“I saw a ghost when I was little,” Keisha said, staring into the distance, her voice soft. “In my auntie’s house. A boy. A boy who wasn’t there.”

“There’s no such thing as ghosts,” Marcie said.

“Uncle Yahuba beat me when I said I’d seen him. Auntie Ayo said it was a sign I was cursed. Crazy like my mother. They told me never to think of it again. They put me on Valium when I was about thirteen. Been on it ever since. It helps.”

Marcie leaned forward and kissed her again. “There’s no such thing as ghosts,” she repeated. “Only tricks of the light and memory. Now let’s make the most of our morning, and no more crazy talk.”

Keisha smiled, shaking her thoughts away, and suddenly she was bright and happy again, her mouth on Marcie’s as her back arched with desire. Mercurial, that’s what her moods were, Marcie decided. Light and dark and back again in an instant. Jason had been right. She was refreshing. The ring of Marcie’s cell phone cut through the moment, and she groaned as she looked at the screen. “It’s Elizabeth. What the hell can she want?”

“A threeway?” Keisha raised an eyebrow and Marcie snorted a half-laugh. “Come on, don’t answer it.” Keisha brushed her mouth over Marcie’s exposed nipple. “Ignore her.”

Despite the tingle of pleasure, Marcie couldn’t. Elizabeth calling was a dark cloud against the sunshine—a reminder of the real world. She hit the answer button.

“Hey, Elizabeth. What’s up?”

“Sorry to bother you, but I tried Keisha’s cell and it’s going straight to voice mail. Is she with you?”

“Uh, yeah, we went out last night and she stayed over.” Marcie’s skin burned as if she sounded as guilty as she felt. It was ridiculous. Women had sleepovers all the time when their husbands were away, there was nothing suspicious about it, but still she felt so transparent. “I guess she ran out of battery.” She looked at Keisha, who retrieved her phone from where it had been tossed somewhere on the floor with her clothes, checked it, and nodded.

“Oh, I see,” Elizabeth continued. “It’s just that Julian and Pierre are here. When they got no answer at the main door, they buzzed Zelda, who let them in and then called me. We were all a bit worried! Aren’t you supposed to be having a brunch with them today? To plan the party?”

“Oh God, yes!” Julian and Pierre. How could she have forgotten? Another rope of control slipping through her fingers. She needed to get a grip. “What time is it?”

“One thirty.”

“I’m so so sorry. Can you ask Zelda to get them some drinks? We’ll be there as fast as we can.”

“I’ll take care of it. Zelda’s got family here and I don’t want to disturb her any more. It’s her weekend off.”

Was that a reproach? They probably deserved it, to be fair. “I’m so sorry, Elizabeth,” she repeated.

“Don’t worry, I wasn’t busy. I’ll rustle something up or order in and see you when you get here.”

“Thank you, thank you. And please apologize to Zelda for me.” She hung up. “Shit. Shit, shit, shit.”

“What?” Keisha said.

“Come on, get dressed. We’ve got to go.” Her heart thumped hard. Marcie Maddox did not miss brunches. She was always on time. Under control. Aware that any slipup was simply a validation that she didn’t truly belong here. She couldn’t let everything unravel because of this Englishwoman. Yet still she ached between her thighs, irritated at the interruption to their languid day. “Now!” she said, as Keisha didn’t move. “We’re supposed to be party planning.” If it was already nearly two, Jason and William would be back before long. Early evening, she was sure he’d said they were landing. God, she probably wouldn’t even have time to change the sheets.

She yanked a dress from her closet and pulled it on before quickly making the bed. Would it smell of sex? Perfume? She thought of spraying deodorant on it and decided not to. It was men who caused the stink of sex anyway. Like dogs having to make their mark.

“Oh fuck, I totally forgot,” Keisha said, tugging her party dress over her head and down to her knees. “There was something weird last night.”

Looking at her, Marcie wanted to moan again and this time it was nothing to do with pleasure. There was dirt on it from where they’d screwed in the clearing. And she was pretty sure she could see a small tear in the fabric. This was not going to look good. She’d lend Keisha something if her clothes would have fit, but she was at least three inches taller than Marcie and there was no way her glorious tits were going to fit into any of Marcie’s tops.

“There was plenty weird last night,” she said, only half-listening. “What specifically?” She hadn’t realized how hungover she was until she’d stood up. Not hungover exactly, but something similar. What exactly had been in that stupid rum punch?

“Zelda. You know, I’d forgotten till just now, but I thought I saw her last night for a second. It was someone I kind of recognized anyway. At the rave. A familiarity about them. Can’t remember properly now. It’s all a bit hazy.”

A vague memory scratched the surface of Marcie’s consciousness. Hadn’t she thought she’d recognized someone for a moment too? One of the women holding a snake. Could that have been Zelda? Last night? Marcie’s guts turned to ice water. Oh God, if Zelda had been there, what did she see? Suddenly freedom didn’t seem such a great idea. “You’re shitting me.”