The Sanatorium(66)

Then something else: a voice, echoing. So clear it’s like it’s in the room with her.

Isaac’s voice.

Urgent, shouting:

“We’ve got to get him out. We’ve got to get him out.”

Then a scream: primal, raw, a low, guttural keening.

The sound of water, frantic splashing.

Her vision narrows to a tiny point: Sam. The edge of his T-shirt being tugged by the water.

The shirt no longer looks like a part of him, but something other, like Sam had already gone, had no right to lay claim to it.





52





Elin opens her eyes with a start, her body jerking awake to a loud knocking at the door.

Had I drifted off?

Glancing at the time on her phone, she can see that she has: she’s been asleep for over half an hour.

The knocking comes again: louder now, more insistent.

Will? No. Why would he knock? He had a key.

“Elin?”

Walking to the door, she opens it to find Margot standing outside in dark jeans, a shapeless, boat-neck white top. Once again, Elin’s struck by her self-consciousness, her stooped posture, the rounded curve of her shoulders.

No one’s ever told her to be proud of her height, she thinks with a pang of sympathy, imagining the teasing at school—the name-calling and mockery.

“Is everything okay?”

“I was wondering if you’ve heard anything about Laure.” Margot smooths her hair back. It’s greasy, sitting flat against her scalp, several of the starred grips holding it tightly in place. It makes her features look hawkish. More pronounced.

Elin hesitates, but realizes her mistake.

Margot steps back, her expression frozen. “Oh, my god.” Her voice is high. “She’s dead, isn’t she?”

“No.” Elin struggles to get the words out, her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. “She’s not, she’s still missing. We don’t know anything yet.”

Margot’s eyes are bright, glittering. “I thought . . .” Her voice cracks. “She’s been gone so long.”

“Come in.” Elin’s tone is soft. “We can’t talk here.”

Margot follows her into the room, her face white and pinched. She checks the screen of her phone before turning it between her fingers.

There are a few moments of silence.

Elin takes a deep breath, looks through the window. More snow, climbing up the glass. It’s nearly to the top of the frame.

When she turns back, Margot’s looking at her. “I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s fine. I know things are scary. It’s easy to jump to conclusions.”

Margot nods, still turning the phone in her hand.

Another heavy silence.

When Margot finally puts the phone down on the desk, the movement doesn’t stop; she starts picking at her nails. Tiny flakes of gray varnish flicker to the floor.

Something’s up, Elin thinks, watching her. Not just Laure. Something else.

“Margot. Is something wrong?”

A pause, then she nods. “Something’s been on my mind. Before, when we spoke, I wasn’t entirely honest.”

“About what?”

“Laure and Isaac’s relationship. After what’s happened to Adele, I think there’s something you should know.” Her foot is tapping the floor. “The reason I didn’t want to mention it before is because of who it involves.” Her gaze slips past Elin, then back again.

“Go on,” Elin says slowly.

“Lucas Caron. He and Laure, they . . . had something, a while back.”

“I know. Lucas told me.”

Margot looks at her in surprise. “Did he say anything about it starting up again?”

“No. He said it was over. A short-term thing when she and Isaac were on a break. You don’t think it was?”

“I don’t. I saw them a few weeks ago in the corridor to the spa. On the CCTV. Laure was coming to meet me for lunch.”

“And something happened?” Elin prompts.

“Yes. It looked like Laure was going to walk past him, but he stopped her, grabbed her arm.” Margot leans against the desk, her mouth twitching. “Her face—it was like she was scared. She was trying to get away, but he wouldn’t let her.”

“What happened then?”

“They spoke for a few more minutes, then Lucas walked off.”

Elin tries to keep her expression neutral, but her mind is racing.

Lucas hadn’t said anything about this.

“Did Laure carry on into the spa?”

“Yes, but it was strange. She didn’t mention what had happened. That’s what made me think something might have started up again—that she didn’t want to tell me because this time she was with Isaac, engaged . . .”

“Did she seem worried, though?” Elin probes. “Anxious?”

“Not particularly.” Margot bites down on her lip. “I wish I’d said something, asked her about it.”

“But she was open with you about their relationship initially?”

“The first time, yes, but she was single then, had split from Isaac. To be honest, at first I thought it was a rebound thing, but when it ended, I wasn’t so sure. She was really upset.” Margot shrugs, the gesture at odds with the intensity in her eyes. “But that’s reasonable, right? If someone tosses you aside like you’re rubbish. No one likes that, do they? Feeling used.”