‘OK . . . so I had the mushroom pizza, Mum you were the artichoke and a lemonade and Ellie—’
‘Can’t we just split it three ways?’ Irritation burning, Ellie stared at her sister.
‘I suppose . . . it’s just . . .’
‘What?’
‘Nothing,’ said Abby graciously. ‘It doesn’t matter that some people ordered more drinks.’
‘Oh, for God’s sake!’
‘What’s up now?’
Ellie gritted her teeth. ‘You’re so . . . tight.’
‘I’m frugal!’
‘I’m not just talking about the money! It’s everything! You’re so tightly wound, so not relaxed! And look around you!’ Ellie waved her arm towards the beach. ‘You’re in the most perfect place with the most perfect life—’
‘It’s not as straightforward as you think.’
‘No? You want to swap?’
‘I needed to escape.’
‘Don’t we all.’
‘It was more than that.’ Abby looked at her uneasily. ‘I’ve needed to escape ever since I was small—’
‘I’ve settled up, girls.’ Susanna was standing next to the table, smiling carefully at them. Ellie had been so irritated she hadn’t even seen her mother leave. ‘Just popped to the till,’ continued Susanna, ‘while you were,’ she lowered her voice, ‘arguing.’
Abby started to protest, to get out her purse, and in exasperation, Ellie flounced out of the restaurant.
TWELVE
They drove back to the villa in strained silence. The car was unbearably hot; black seats burned bare skin and, even with the windows fully down, only a blast of warm air filled the car as it wound its way over the shimmering tarmac. Feeling faint from the heat, Ellie found herself smouldering at Abby further – she’s got enough money, why can’t she get a car where the air conditioning actually works?
She was first out and didn’t wait for Abby to open the front door but unlatched the side gate and made her way around the back to the terrace. As she approached, a lizard stopped dead on the flagstones. The sun beat down. The leaves on the lemon trees in the large terracotta pots were utterly still. Ellie felt a rivulet of sweat trickle down her lower back. She heard the patio doors slide open behind her. Her shoulders stiffened.
‘Are you all right? Ellie?’
It was her mother. Her voice was soft, gentle and full of understanding, and it triggered neuron pathways that had been set when she was a child, sick and reliant on her rock of a mother. Embarrassingly, Ellie felt herself well up. She quickly brushed away the tears.
Susanna came out and walked over to her, resting a hand on her shoulder. ‘Why don’t I get you a drink?’ she said and then went back inside.
Ellie looked down at the lizard. It was still there, not even an eyelid blinking. The sun was burning her shoulders and she half thought about moving into some shade. She heard footsteps behind her and turned – she was so thirsty – but it was Abby standing there, not her mother. Abby crossed the terrace until she was standing next to her.
‘I know you think I have everything I could ever want . . . a charmed life . . .’ said Abby. ‘But you could have the same too.’
‘Oh, pur-lease,’ said Ellie.
‘But you could.’
‘I was not given the gifts you were, Abby. Or if I was, they were stunted in childhood.’
‘No, but that’s the point. All those years you felt your illness was holding you back—’
‘It was holding me back. I was too ill to learn. It affected everything. Whereas you – you were able to do whatever you wanted. You just . . . took off, and I was left on the sidelines. No Girl Scouts, no trampoline club, no going to friends’ houses to play, half the time not even any school . . . just a struggle, everything a struggle. You didn’t even look back over your shoulder. Thank God for Mum. She understood, not just that I was ill, but what it was doing to me.’
Abby was watching her, a contorted look on her face. Maybe some of this is finally getting through, thought Ellie.
‘Mum didn’t care what it was doing to you,’ said Abby.
Ellie thought she’d misheard. ‘What?’
‘She’s a liar. She’s been lying to you for years.’
Ice clinked in a jug. Both girls turned to see Susanna framed in the doorway, a tray in her hands filled with glasses and iced water, her face white.
‘Really, Abby? You’re going to try to claim that?’ she said.
Ellie looked from her mother to her sister. ‘What’s going on?’
‘This mother of ours is not the tender, caring soul you think,’ said Abby.
‘Stop that right now, Abigail,’ said Susanna, walking towards them, the tray still in her hands.
‘You were ill because she made you ill,’ said Abby.
‘You are a wicked, wicked girl. How dare you spout such lies.’
‘She poisoned you. For years.’
A loud crash splintered the air; glass shattered and water spilled across the darkening flagstones. Stunned, Ellie looked down. The lizard darted off into the dry undergrowth. Ellie kept her eyes on the space where it had been, trying to understand what she’d just heard, but her mind was spinning with thoughts of alarm and disbelief. She raised her head.
‘Mum?’ she said in a small voice, a child seeking reassurance.
‘Your sister is lying,’ said Susanna. She reached out a distant hand but Ellie felt herself pull back.
‘I saw her,’ said Abby.
Ellie’s eyes bulged in horror.
‘When I was nine.’
Susanna scoffed. ‘This is utter rubbish. Do you want to know the real truth?’ she said to Ellie, stepping her way through the broken glass towards her. Ellie saw her mother’s foot catch on a shard, saw her wince, blood seeping onto the stones, but Susanna hardly seemed to notice, she just kept coming at her.
‘Don’t come near me.’
Susanna smiled. ‘Don’t be silly.’
‘I said don’t come near me.’
‘You need to listen to me.’
Susanna was still approaching, making bloody footprints on the ground, her arms outstretched. The heat was searing Ellie’s head and it was all too much, too hot, too bright, and as her mother went to touch her, Ellie pushed her back and Susanna stumbled; her foot already in pain and her step unsteady, she lost her balance, and with a small cry she fell and her head hit the terrace with a loud crack.
THIRTEEN
Abby stared at her mother lying on the ground, unable to fully take in what had just happened.
Beside her, Ellie was dumbstruck. Shock contorted her face, her hands over her eyes, fingers splayed.
Abby moved over to where Susanna lay on the terrace. She bent down.
‘Mum?’
There was no answer. Her mother was so still. Hands trembling, Abby went to pick up Susanna’s limp wrist. She placed her fingers tentatively on the space under her mother’s thumb. She frowned, not immediately finding what she was searching for. Her hands just wouldn’t stop shaking. Then a trickle of blood began to form under her mother’s head. Slowly, slowly it spread, creeping, edging its way along the paving. Abby’s eyes widened in horror. The pressure she had on her mother’s wrist instantly weakened and her hand fell from her grasp as the realization kicked in.