‘Zoe will have to stay with us at the villa,’ he says.
‘Oh.’ I can’t help the sharp intake of breath with which I receive this news. I understand, of course. But I cannot imagine what on earth it will be like to be under the same roof as a woman who has made it so clear she hates me. ‘Do you want me and Rose to . . . to find a hotel?’ I ask, thinking that maybe this will be easiest.
‘I just want you to deal with it,’ he says dully.
‘Of course, of course.’ My stomach churns with anxiety. ‘I was just thinking of what would be easiest for Zoe.’
‘She’s lost her daughter,’ he says, his voice strained to breaking point. ‘It seriously won’t make any difference where she sleeps.’
‘I’ll . . . I’ll make up Lish’s bed for her, he can take the sofa downstairs,’ I say, eager to be helpful. ‘I’ve seen where the linen cup—’
‘She wants to sleep in Dee Dee’s room.’
‘But . . . but the police have put tape across the door.’ This is not really my overriding concern, but saying it seems morbid to take the girl’s bed seems unhelpful.
‘That won’t stop Zoe,’ Jed says with a sigh. ‘We’ll be back in an hour or so.’
As soon as Rose hears about Zoe’s imminent arrival she suggests that she should leave the villa with Martin and Cameron and spend the night on the Maggie May. ‘So as not to be in the way,’ she says, ‘then Zoe can have my room, if she wants.’
I agree, not just for the room but because it seems best that there aren’t too many people here when Jed and Zoe arrive.
After the others leave I check on Iveta, who is asleep, then on Lish, who appears to be drinking his way through the bottle of whisky that Gary bought the night we arrived. He receives the news that his parents are on their way with a miserable shrug. The stars and the moon light the sky. It feels like years since this morning. I am ridiculously nervous at the prospect of seeing Zoe again. Her angry rant in the school car park rings in my ears. Still, maybe losing Dee Dee will put all that in perspective. Most of all, I hope my presence here doesn’t make this terrible evening any worse for her. I pour myself a glass of wine. My hands are shaking. I take a sip and then the front door key turns in the lock.
My legs carry me across the open-plan living room as the door opens and Jed and his ex walk in.
June 2014
My life is OVER. Seriously. I want to die. Everything is as bad as it could be. And I am SO stupid to have thought it would ever be any different. It started with those year ten girls giggling on Friday, then on Saturday Mum took me and Ava and Poppy and Marietta Hingis – who doesn’t go to my school but who we have to include because she, like, thinks she’s best friends with me though really it’s Ava – to Pizza Paradise in Muswell Hill which is near where Daddy lives now with Emily but we didn’t see them because Mum is still angry about Daddy coming late last Friday and anyway it isn’t my weekend with him. So, like, everything was cool with Marietta but Ava and Poppy were REALLY weird, like they didn’t want to be there, like they’d only ever been my friends because we got sat next to each other right at the start of the year and they’d been stuck with me ever since. They kept whispering to each other and shaking their heads like there was some BIG problem they couldn’t tell me. They left early too, even though we were all supposed to be having a sleepover. Ava said she had to go home cos her cousins were visiting and Poppy said she wasn’t feeling well though only after she’d eaten almost a whole pizza. In the end it was just me and Marietta which REALLY sucked. Though if that was the worst thing about it, I wouldn’t care. But now I know. I know why the year ten girls were giggling and I know why Ava and Poppy didn’t want to hang around with me.
I found out at school this morning. There was looking and pointing when I went into Form Room. People were saying things under their breath, things I couldn’t hear. The girls were looking at me like I was a piece of dirt and the boys were laughing. I knew that it was about me, though I had no idea why. I wished I could see Sam, I’d been thinking about him all weekend, feeling sure we’d see each other this week. And then Georgia Dutton who’s the prettiest girl in our year came over and there were four other girls right behind her including Ava and Poppy and they were all staring at me and Georgia said ‘So do you think you’re a model, Dee Dee-sy?’ And the other girls giggled but I didn’t understand. And then Georgia held up her phone. And it was a picture of me, the one Sam took with my shirt undone. And under there was a tag that said ‘Dee D-Easy Tiny Tits’. My head spun and I kept staring, then Georgia whipped the phone away and I couldn’t work out how she had seen the photo and I couldn’t stop a tear coming out and Ava saw and said to Poppy ‘she’s only got herself to blame’ in a loud voice and they wouldn’t look at me. I ran away to the girls’ toilets on the third floor and all I could think was that everyone had seen and Sam had shown and shared and my life, like I said, is OVER.
August 2014
Aside from the angry incident in the staff car park at school, Zoe and I have never met. But I’ve seen plenty of pictures, the most recent of which were from Dee Dee’s thirteenth birthday in June when Zoe threw a visiting Jed out of the house in a totally unprompted rage. I know that Zoe is forty-seven, just a little younger than him, and that she looks good for her age. I know she has a heart-shaped face with a pointy chin, that she has blonde highlights and that she wears Prada perfume and designer dresses. I know that she has not found anyone since Jed left her, that she was brought up a Catholic and that she is a terrible snob and a dilettante who plays at fashion design but has never had a proper job. I also know that her favourite book is Brideshead Revisited, that she decided to become a designer after watching the famous 1980s TV series as a child and that she named both her children after the Flytes and – in Lish’s case – a teddy bear: Sebastian Aloysius (known as Lish from day one, apparently) and Cordelia Julia (shortened to Dee Dee when she was little and couldn’t quite manage her own full name). Most of all, I know that Zoe loathes me.
But none of these things I know prepare me for the sight that now meets my eyes. The only word I can use to describe her face is ‘broken’. Jed is helping her to walk; she leans stiffly against him, her eyes red, her skin grey and drawn. Gary slips in after them, glances at me, then heads upstairs without a word.
The three of us are alone.
Zoe looks up, taking in the living area of the villa with blank, ghostly eyes, and I am suddenly aware that the pain I have felt over Dee Dee is nothing compared to this woman’s, that there can, surely, be no greater agony for a mother than to lose her child. Overwhelmed with compassion for her, I move towards her, my hands clasped together.
‘Zoe,’ I say breathlessly, my heart feeling like it will burst, ‘I am so, so sorry for your loss.’
Zoe gazes at me. She frowns as if confused. She turns to Jed. ‘What?’
‘I told you Emily would be here, remember?’ He looks at me. ‘The doctor gave her a sedative; she was literally tearing her hair out.’
‘Oh, Jesus.’ I stand, hovering, helpless, as Jed sets his ex onto the sofa. As he straightens, she clutches at his arm, pulling him down beside her. He sits hard, right next to her and she buries her face in his chest. She sobs, rocking backwards and forwards, murmuring things I can’t quite catch. Jed holds her tightly. His eyes are closed but a tear trickles down his face. I stand watching them, an outsider to their shared grief. I feel empty, unneeded. Jealousy flashes through me, a hot wave. I turn away, embarrassed by my own selfishness. It is only natural Zoe and Jed would turn to each other at this time. I have no place here. I turn and walk out of the room.
Jed finds me in the kitchen, nursing a second glass of wine about fifteen minutes later.
‘She’s asleep,’ he says, his voice thick with misery. ‘Oh, baby.’
I’m in his arms as he reaches for me. And now he cries, the weight of his grief pulling him down to the floor. I sink down with him, holding him, stroking his hair as Rose used to stroke mine, as
I dimly remember our mother stroking my hair long, long ago when I was very little.
I wake early, as the sun outside our window is just rising. The first thing I notice is that Jed is not in bed beside me. Then I remember Dee Dee. The pain of it is like a punch to the guts. It hurts so hard I gasp, then lie back, reeling. Grief is like this, I remember from the shock of losing Mum and Dad . . . those moments on waking before you remember, then the body blow of reality.
I must find Jed. I have no idea what I can do to make the pain he is feeling any less bearable, but I should be with him, letting him know he isn’t alone. I pull on a cardigan and head downstairs. Whispers drift out from Dee Dee’s room on the first floor. I pad across the landing. Jed and Zoe are sitting on either side of Dee Dee’s bed. Zoe is holding Jed’s hand. Is she praying? Is he? I’ve never seen him do so or refer to doing so before. I can’t help but feel another hot flash of jealousy, and I am, again, immediately ashamed. I hover in the doorway, waiting for her to finish. I can’t hear a word, just the low rustle of her voice.
At last she sits up and releases his hand. I step forward, offering an apologetic cough for my presence. Jed and Zoe turn towards me. I’m struck by how good they look together. Jed might be fifty but could pass for a decade younger, while the few lines around his eyes and his greying temples confer a sense of authority rather than age. Zoe’s skin looks fresher than it did last night and her blonde highlights – so messy before – now form a neat frame around her angular face. Close to, I’m fairly certain she’s had some work done: botox and lip filler at least. I shake myself. What does any of that matter at a time like this? I remember how totally out of it Zoe was when she arrived, so I step forward and hold out my hand.
‘Oh, Zoe,’ I say, in an echo of last night. ‘I loved Dee Dee very much. I’m so sorry for your loss.’
Zoe’s dark blue eyes narrow as she takes me in. Her gaze runs over my entire body. I lower my arm and wait, drymouthed and self-conscious, wishing I had thought to put on more than a cardigan over my silk nightgown.
And then Zoe draws herself up. ‘Get this fucking whore out of my sight,’ she says.
I gasp. Jed is on his feet in an instant, ushering me away. My first instinct is to protest, to insist he tells her to take back what she just said, then I remind myself why she is here and I press my lips together.
I must let this go.
‘Sorry, baby, sorry, sorry.’ Jed leads me downstairs and into the kitchen. ‘Sorry, sorry.’ He paces across the room.
There’s no sign that anyone else is up. Flustered, I fetch a pack of coffee from the fridge and set it down on the counter.
‘Sorry,’ Jed says again.
‘It’s fine,’ I say, though it isn’t at all.
But what else can I do? Under these circumstances the last thing Jed needs is for me to make a huge fuss. And what did I expect Zoe would say to me? Hey, much-younger-woman-who-stole-my-husband-but-never-mind-that-now, thanks for offering your condolences.
Jed rubs his hand over his forehead. He looks exhausted.
‘Did you sleep at all?’ I ask.
‘Some, not much,’ he says. ‘The police were asking about Dee Dee’s phone again. Did you tell them she lost it on the way back to the villa?’
I nod.
‘They’re testing those bloody powders today . . . there’s just no reason why it happened, I don’t . . . I can’t . . .’ Jed sinks into a chair next to where I’m standing. ‘I can’t think straight, baby. But there are things we have to do, registering things . . . telling people . . . finding out how . . . when we can take her, you know, home . . .’ His voice cracks.
I draw him towards me and press his face against my stomach. He clings tightly to me for a moment, then pulls away. I can feel the damp of his tears through the silk of my nightgown.
‘Gary and I can help with all the . . . the arrangements,’ I say.
‘Yes.’ Jed nods, not looking at me, still completely distracted. ‘Look, I need to go back to Zo and I have to deal with Lish too. He was asleep when I went in last night. How was he before we got back? Zo was asking.’
‘He stayed in his room almost the entire time,’ I explain. ‘Look, I’ll make us all some coffee, then Gary and I can start sorting out what needs to be done.’
‘Okay, good,’ Jed says, nodding again. He goes back upstairs. Gary appears as I make the coffee. We sit together and make a list of all the practical stuff that has to happen now. Iveta and I are dispatched for food which we dutifully buy and, later, cook and which no one really eats. Zoe remains in Dee Dee’s bedroom the entire day, so – apart from a quick trip to fetch a sundress and sandals from our bedroom – I stay downstairs. I want to offer Zoe my sympathy again, but it’s obvious she doesn’t want to speak to me, that I’m the last person who can offer her any comfort. I feel stupid for caring, but her words last night still ring in my ears, as does the way Jed referred to her as ‘Zo’ earlier.
It’s a hot, humid evening. I sit outside, staring at the still water of the pool. I can’t believe that less than twenty-four hours ago Dee Dee was still alive. Gary and Iveta appear briefly to say that they’re going out for a walk. Rose calls to check I’m okay. Lish, Jed and Zoe stay out of sight, upstairs. I’m torn between feeling I should leave them alone as a family and the desire to seek them out and ask if there’s anything I can do for any of them.
Jed and Zoe appear as darkness envelops the villa and the heat fades and the lights around the pool cast long, thin shadows across the water. Zoe sits on a lounger on the other side of the pool. She doesn’t look at me; her hands are trembling, twisting over and over in her lap. Jed takes the seat next to me.
‘Are you all right?’ he asks.
‘Fine, just worried about you.’ I hesitate. ‘About you both.’
Zoe looks up at me. Her eyes are red-rimmed, her face pale in the pool lights. ‘It’s surreal, isn’t it?’ she says.
I nod, wary but hopeful this might be some kind of olive branch. ‘I was just thinking how it’s less than a day since she was here, since we all had dinner together.’
Zoe’s eyes narrow. ‘Not all of us,’ she says slowly.
‘No, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean . . .’ I stop talking. My cheeks burn.
‘This is your fault,’ Zoe says. She’s still looking straight at me.
‘Zo,’ Jed cautions. ‘Come on.’
‘No.’ Zoe stands up. ‘This is your fault, you little bitch.’
My breath catches in my throat.
‘Dee Dee was safe at home,’ Zoe hisses. ‘She should never have come away. And the only reason she came here . . . the only reason you all came here, where she wasn’t safe, was because he . . .’ She points at Jed. ‘Because he wanted to impress you.’
I stare at her, unsure what to say. So much for an olive branch. My heart beats fast.
‘Zoe, that’s ridiculous,’ Jed protests.
‘Don’t tell me I’m ridiculous.’ She’s shrieking now. ‘You’re the one who’s made yourself ridiculous, bigging yourself up to your whore.’ She spits out the last word, then bursts into tears and rushes back into the villa.
There’s an uneasy silence. A dog barks in the distance.
‘She doesn’t know what she’s saying,’ Jed mutters. ‘She’s . . .’
‘I know.’ I reach across and lay my hand on his arm. ‘It’s fine.’ I say. ‘I can’t imagine what this is like for her. I’m sure she’ll calm down . . .’
Jed shakes his head. ‘I don’t think that’s going to happen in the next day or two. In fact . . .’ He pauses. ‘Look, baby, I hate to suggest it but maybe you should think about going home early. Your brother and Cam have the boat nearby, your sister is already on board. You could go back with them . . . or . . .’
I swallow, hard. ‘I wanted to be here for you, to help . . . to . . .’
‘I know.’ Jed pulls me to him, hugging me tight. ‘I know, but Gary’s dealing with all the practical stuff and I can’t tell Zoe to leave, I
think she might crack up totally. I know it’s not fair and God knows it’s not what I want, but . . .’
I disentangle myself from his arms, my emotions battling in my head. I hate the idea that Jed should be forced into being without me when he wants me here. And yet my leaving will make things easier for him – and therefore for Lish too – and he’s right that Zoe will most likely crack up if he turfs her out. I take a deep breath. Going home right now is the right thing to do, the unselfish thing.
‘Of course I will, if you really think it’s best.’
‘Thank you.’ Jed hugs me again.
As I wrap my arms around him I look up at the villa. Up on the first floor all the lights are off except for the one in Dee Dee’s room. For a second I think I see her outline at the window. Then I realize that it’s Zoe, looking out at us. I shiver, though it’s still warm, and bury my face in Jed’s neck.
When I look up a moment later, Zoe is gone and the lights are out.
The next morning I leave and go home with Rose and Martin. A week passes. The date when Jed and the others were due to fly home from Corsica comes and goes. Jed calls every day. He is furious that so much time has passed and they still have no clue why Dee Dee died. From what he says, the police investigation sounds like it’s run out of steam before it has properly begun.
‘They say they’re waiting on secondary reports but the post mortem was done days ago and we still don’t really know what it says. They keep saying: “peu concluant . . . peu concluant . . .” It’s outrageous that they’re keeping information from us.’