Sweet Damage (28 page)

I shove everything else back into Lilla's bag and by the time she returns I'm pretty sure I've managed to erase the expression of shock from my face.

She puts her phone back in her bag, pushes it to the other side of the table.

‘Sorry 'bout that,' she says, taking a chip.

I drink my beer and don't say a word.

71

W
HEN SHE
'
S
CALMER AND CAN BREATHE NORMALLY AGAIN SHE STANDS UP
.
Brushes her clothes down. Pulls her shoulders back.

She always feels drained when she loses control like that, lets herself give in to her grief. She feels slightly embarrassed too, as though she has humiliated herself before the universe, succumbed to something weak and shameful within herself. She considers going to the attic for a while to make herself feel better, to find her equilibrium again, and heads upstairs. But when she walks past Lilla's bedroom she notices something from the corner of her eye that makes her stop.

On the shelf, next to the photo of Lilla, is the ceramic flower. The one her father gave her. Seeing it there makes her heart pound, her fists clench with sudden anger.

Marching into Lilla's room, she is full of outrage, a sense of having been violated. How dare Lilla take such liberties! She picks up the sculpture, runs her hands over its familiar glossy surface. She will take it downstairs, put it back in the living room where it belongs. She will confront Lilla when she gets back – tell her to keep her hands off her stuff.

But then an idea starts forming in her mind. She won't take the flower. Not yet. She returns to the bookshelves and puts it back where she found it.

She leaves Lilla's room and heads back down the hall towards Tim's. She pushes his door open and goes to his desk. His laptop starts up when she lifts the lid, the pages Tim was last looking at appearing on the screen. The surf report. Facebook. She sits down. Leans forward. Starts searching for some answers.

72

I
INSIST ON GOING BACK TO
F
AIRVIEW AS SOON AS
I
FINISH MY
beer. Lilla complains and calls me a piker, but as we're leaving she bumps into a group of friends and decides to stay with them. I head home alone.

I find Anna sitting in the kitchen. My laptop is open on the table in front of her. She has an intense, thoughtful look on her face.

I sit next to her.

‘What are you doing?'

‘Look at this.' She turns the computer so that I can see the screen. She's on Lilla's Facebook page. There's a picture of Lilla standing in the street, holding her clenched fist in the air.

‘Lilla being Lilla,' I shrug. ‘What about it?'

She points to the building behind Lilla, then flicks to another website, another image of the same building.

‘But that's—'

‘Yes. And the interesting thing is that this image was uploaded over a year ago.'

I feel my mouth drop open in shock. I can't believe it. It can't be coincidence – it would be far too unlikely – but I can't figure out what it means.

‘I don't get it,' I say.

‘Neither do I. But I think I'm starting to.'

‘There's something else,' I say. I take the photo from my wallet and hand it to Anna.

‘This fell out of Lilla's bag earlier. I wasn't sure whether I should show you.'

‘My God,' Anna's eyes go wide. ‘Does she know you have this?'

‘No.'

‘Good. Let's not say anything. Not yet. We need to think first. We need a plan.'

*

Later, as we're lying side by side in bed, both of us quiet, still partly in shock from what we discovered earlier in the day, I turn towards Anna and put my hand on her stomach, trace a small circle on her soft, white skin. ‘You okay?'

‘I'm fine. You?'

‘Don't know. Confused.'

She grabs my hand and turns away from me, pulling my arm around her. She shifts backwards, nestling close.

‘Maybe we should cancel that dinner thing next week?' I say. ‘With Marcus and Fiona?'

‘No.' She shakes her head. I can't see her face but her voice is determined. ‘Let's have it. It's the perfect chance, Tim. They'll all be here. We can finally get to the bottom of this. Find out what she's playing at, what's really going on.'

73

I
SPEND THE FOLLOWING
S
UNDAY AFTERNOON IN THE KITCHEN
, doing most of the food preparation before Marcus and Fiona arrive. Lilla heads out for a while and comes back to the house with booze.

‘Cocktails!' she announces, loading bottles of tequila and Cointreau and a bag of limes onto the counter.

She starts making a batch immediately. She collects ice in a jug, pours the spirits generously, squeezes lime over the top, stirs it all together.

‘Want one?' she asks.

‘Nah,' I say. ‘Not yet. I'll wait.'

‘God, Tim, don't be such a drag,' she says. ‘Where's Anna? We should all have a pre-party cocktail.'

‘Still upstairs. Having a bath, I think.'

She ignores the fact that I declined and edges three wine glasses with salt. She pours the cloudy concoction in, filling them right to the brim. She hands me one.

‘Bottoms up!' she says, pressing her glass against mine.

I take a small sip, grimace with the salty, bitter heat of it.

‘You don't like it?'

‘It's okay.' I put the glass down. Turn back to what I was doing. ‘But I told you I didn't want one.'

‘Maybe I know you better than you know yourself.'

‘Maybe you just don't know how to take no for an answer,' I say irritably.

‘I think you might be right about that,' she laughs as she picks up the other two glasses and leaves the room. ‘In fact I think you're absolutely spot on.'

74

L
ILLA WALKS INTO THE BATHROOM WITHOUT KNOCKING AND
A
NNA
'
S
SO
startled to see her, so unused to being naked around other women, that she brings her knees up and plunges down beneath the water, putting her hands between her legs
.

‘It's okay.' Lilla rolls her eyes at Anna's modesty. ‘I've seen it all before. I was just bringing you a drink.' She puts the glass on the vanity near the bath and turns to go, stopping in the doorway. ‘Come to my room when you've finished. We can get ready together.'

Anna must look either blank or baffled or both because Lilla laughs. ‘So we can do each other's hair. You can help me choose what to wear. And if you bring some clothes I'll help you.'

‘Oh, I'm just wearing jeans,' Anna says. ‘I don't need any help.'

‘No you're not. No way. You're going to have some fun tonight, Anna London. You're going to dress up. We both are. We're going to make an occasion of it. And you may not need any help, but I do.' She stops to think for a moment, tapping a finger on the rim of her glass. ‘In fact, I've got the perfect dress I can lend you. It's gorgeous. It's a bit too small for me these days, tight around my back, but you're so thin, it'll definitely fit. Come straight to my room. I'll be waiting.'

Anna can't be bothered arguing and she doesn't particularly care what she wears – jeans, a dress, it's all the same to her – so she nods her agreement. She'll save her energy for the fights that matter.

When Lilla has gone Anna reaches up for the glass and, holding it carefully, slips back down into the bath, so that she is almost lying flat on her back, only her hands and head above the water. She holds the glass in two hands and swirls the liquid around so that some of it spills over the rim. And then she lowers the glass into the water, slowly, until bathwater spills into the liquor and turns it soapy, until the entire glass is completely submerged.

*

‘It's perfect!' Lilla says.

The dress is black and short and tight. It's very low cut in the front, showing a lot of cleavage, and dips low at the back. It fits perfectly, snug without being too tight, and ends well above Anna's knees.

It's an effort to hide her discomfort when Lilla stands too close. Lilla's hands go everywhere – touching Anna's arms and back and hips – fixing the dress, straightening the shoulders, pulling the skirt taut over Anna's behind. She wants to pull away when Lilla's hand touches her skin, but she closes her eyes, breathes through it and pretends not to mind. When Lilla's happy with the fit of the dress she persuades Anna to sits on a stool so she can fix Anna's hair and make-up.

Lilla works for ages on Anna's hair, blow-drying and straightening, putting some kind of gel in it to give it body. And when that's done she turns her attention to Anna's face, using three different kinds of foundation, blush, a gallon of eyeliner. Lilla bites her lip with concentration as she leans close to Anna, and for a moment Anna is filled with a sharp sense of regret.

‘Okay. Finished. Come and have a look.' Lilla guides Anna to the full-length mirror, stands behind her. ‘See, look at you!'

The dress is sexy and revealing, so different to the kind of thing Anna normally wears that she can't help but gape stupidly at her own reflection. Lilla has teased Anna's hair and brushed it back from her face, making her look much edgier, tougher. And her make-up is startling and dramatic. If Anna wears make-up at all it's usually just a swipe of gloss on her lips and not much else, but Lilla has neglected Anna's lips, concentrating instead on her eyes, outlining them with so much black they look deep-set and dark. She looks sexy, wild, slightly mad.

‘Thank you,' Anna smiles uncertainly. ‘A bit tarty maybe. Very different. Nice. I think?'

‘Tarty? You look hot, not tarty, Anna, hot.' Lilla says. She stares at Anna with one eyebrow raised. ‘You are a strange person, Anna London. You're so repressed and old-fashioned, like someone out of a book. But that's okay. I like you anyway. And as my nan would say, it takes all sorts to make the world go round.'

‘I'm so glad you like me, Lilla,' Anna says with cold sarcasm. ‘Thank God you approve.'

‘Oooh,' Lilla laughs. ‘And there go your manners and out comes your nasty side. And that's exactly what I like about you. You're surprising. Complex. I never know what to expect.'

Lilla persuades Anna to stay while she decides what to wear. She tries several outfits before eventually choosing a short black miniskirt, black boots and a red gypsy-style top. She layers beads around her neck and bracelets on her wrists so that they clatter together musically whenever she moves. She styles her hair with a handful of gel and finishes up with a long pair of earrings. Anna watches in genuine admiration. Lilla certainly knows how to put herself together.

‘You look gorgeous,' Anna says, when Lilla stands before her and spins on the spot. ‘Absolutely beautiful.'

‘Not too wild for your conservative friend?'

Anna shrugs. ‘I wouldn't know.'

Lilla puts her glass to her lips and takes a deep sip. She looks around the room. ‘Where's your drink?'

‘I finished it,' Anna says. ‘Ages ago. In the bath.'

‘See? You are surprising!' Lilla says. ‘So meek and mild and yet you drink like a trooper. How about we go downstairs and get another one?'

‘Won't we be drunk?' Anna says. ‘Before they even get here?'

‘I bloody hope so,' Lilla says. ‘That is the point, after all.' And then she reaches out and takes Anna's hand. ‘Come on. Let's go downstairs and see what Tim's doing. We can put some music on and wait for your sexy friend Marcus to get here.'

*

When Tim sees Anna his eyes go wide and he gives a low whistle.

‘Doesn't she look hot?' Lilla asks, but Tim doesn't answer, he grabs Anna around the waist, pulls her towards him, kisses her.

‘Oh, for God's sake. I'm going to go and put some music on,' Lilla says, flouncing off towards the living room.

‘Are you ready for this?' he asks when Lilla has gone. His voice is suddenly a whole lot deeper. ‘For tonight? Are you feeling okay? And what the hell are you wearing?'

And then he kisses her again, giving her no chance to respond.

By the time Lilla returns, Tim and Anna have separated. Tim is at the fridge, Anna is sitting on a chair. Lilla sits on the table above Anna and swings her legs, drums her fingertips, nervous energy radiating from her like heat from an oven.

‘God,' she says. ‘I hate waiting.' Her statement comes out like some kind of prophetic demand to the universe, because a moment later the doorbell rings. She lifts a fist in the air triumphantly and slides from the table. ‘Let the part-ay begin!'

*

Somehow the five of them get stuck in the hallway, standing around making stiff conversation. Anna can feel the self-consciousness coming off both Marcus and Fiona in waves, and she and Tim aren't much better.

‘God, this is painful,' Lilla says, pushing off the wall. ‘We need to get some drinks into you two. We're all ahead of you. And I don't want to be rude, but look at you! You're both so uptight. It's as if you're at a work meeting.'

Marcus gives a small, embarrassed laugh. Fiona only frowns.

‘I'm driving,' Fiona says. ‘Sorry.'

‘And I'm working tomorrow,' Marcus says. ‘I can't really—'

‘Work schmerk. You're only young once, Marcus,' Lilla says, and she takes his hand and attempts to drag him towards the kitchen. But he resists, doesn't move a millimetre.

‘Thanks, Lilla, No. Really.'