‘Hallelujah,’ said Abby. She strode on ahead, Ellie following, and within a few minutes they had crossed a small stone bridge into a hamlet where a smattering of houses led to a restaurant. Peering in at the windows, they saw it was closed, the chairs stacked up on the tables. Abby gazed around the streets. It was quiet. They were in that no-man’s-land time that fell post lunch and before the day’s heat had waned. Then they saw a movement in the distance. A figure walked across what looked like a garage forecourt, weaving between several cars before disappearing into a hut-like office.
‘Bingo,’ said Abby softly.
The girls headed over. Abby tucked her bag behind a wall and placed Ellie’s suitcase next to it. ‘Don’t want any awkward questions,’ she said. Then she went over to the office and opened the door. Ellie stayed outside and, sitting on the wall, she rubbed her leg, trying to ease the numbness.
She gazed around the forecourt. There were only a dozen or so cars, mostly Fiats, although a black Alfa Romeo Spider had pride of place right at the front of the plot. It gleamed in the sunshine – a car that had attitude. There was a sign propped up on the dashboard that was visible through the windscreen. It was for hire at an astronomical amount. Ellie felt the butterflies dance in her belly. They needed a new vehicle but would Abby be expecting them to go halves? Ellie could never afford that kind of money. She turned her back and, leaving the wall, went to look at the Fiats. They were all for rent and nearly all standard 500s. One was a convertible; a white roof was pushed back against the red bodywork. Ellie peered inside: the red paintwork continued on the dash too – and the seats were upholstered in white leather. Wouldn’t burn my bum on those, she thought, as Abby came outside with the proprietor of the business, a late-middle-aged Italian man with salt-and-pepper curly hair and a rotund belly. He saw Ellie over by the open-top Fiat and stopped for a moment, then brightened, his day markedly improved. He headed over.
‘This is our best car for you,’ he said to Abby in his accented English. ‘Perfect for two ladies.’
Abby glanced at the cardboard sign in the windscreen. ‘But it’s more expensive than the other 500s,’ she said. ‘And seeing as I’m paying . . .’
Ellie ignored the barb, secretly relieved she wasn’t expected to contribute.
‘Ah, but you have the roof,’ exclaimed the car dealer.
‘I don’t need the roof,’ said Abby.
‘Everyone needs a roof,’ said Ellie.
‘You like it, no?’ said the dealer, conspiratorially to Ellie.
‘It’s gorgeous,’ she replied wistfully.
‘We don’t need it,’ repeated Abby. ‘It’s spending money we don’t need to spend.’
Ellie and the dealer exchanged a glance and Ellie shrugged.
‘Advertisers tell you that you need the wind in your hair. I just need to get from A to B,’ said Abby.
‘Jeez, live a little,’ said Ellie, under her breath.
‘What about that blue one there?’ asked Abby, pointing at another car further along the forecourt, an ordinary Fiat 500 without an open roof.
‘That one is gone,’ said the dealer.
‘It’s right there.’
‘I mean, it is reserved.’
‘OK, that white one next to it.’
‘Also reserved.’
Abby frowned. ‘The green one? I suppose that is reserved too?’
‘I’m afraid so,’ said the dealer gravely. He gave a surreptitious wink to Ellie, who pretended not to see.
Abby let out a sound of frustration. ‘This is . . . extortion,’ she seethed.
The dealer looked apologetic. ‘I can do little discount,’ he said and, looking at Ellie, added, ‘especially for two such lovely ladies.’
‘At least the weather’s nice,’ said Ellie, tilting her face towards the sky and closing her eyes, suddenly feeling utterly exhausted. As she did so, an image of her mother’s body on the terrace came into her mind and, sickened, she quickly opened her eyes again. They were behind the wheel in the red Fiat, top down, cruising through the Tuscan countryside.
‘He robbed me,’ said Abby.
‘You heard what he said – it was the only one.’
‘He was lying. All because you wanted this one.’
‘You think?’ Ellie tutted. ‘That’s naughty.’ She hid a small smile. ‘Lucky I didn’t go all gooey over the Spider.’
The light was fading. As the sky darkened, sunless and foreboding, the guilt and the sadness stalked Ellie with a vengeance. She stared out of the window, watching her mother’s last day fade into black. Beside her, Abby shifted uncomfortably. It was becoming clear they needed to stop – Ellie had noticed for some time now that Abby was tiring. And anyway, they couldn’t just keep on driving – they had no idea of where they were heading. As they came into the next village, Abby said what Ellie was thinking.
‘Maybe we should find a place to stay for the night. Figure out what to do.’
They booked themselves into a B & B just off the village square, then took a table in the small dining room for dinner. There were only two other guests there, a young backpacking couple from Germany who hunkered up together poring over guidebooks.
Ellie and Abby sat as far away from them as they could. Ellie spoke first, before Abby could say anything. ‘I need to turn myself in.’
‘What? No!’
‘But there’s no other way. And I deserve it.’
‘You do not,’ said Abby emphatically, keeping her voice low. ‘Are you forgetting what she did to you?’
‘Doesn’t mean I needed to do what I did,’ said Ellie, upset. ‘Push her like that.’
Abby rested her hand on her sister’s across the table. ‘You didn’t mean for that to happen,’ she said. ‘You didn’t go out of your way to hurt her.’
‘No, but—’
‘It was an accident.’
A tear rolled down Ellie’s cheek and she quickly wiped it away. Abby glanced around the room, made sure the backpackers weren’t watching.
‘Maybe it could look just like that. An accident,’ said Abby carefully.
‘What are you getting at?’
‘Maybe Susanna didn’t want to come to the Tuscan mainland with us on our little sightseeing trip, maybe she opted to stay at home.’ Abby shrugged. ‘She fell and hit her head.’
Ellie gasped. ‘We can’t say that!’
‘I realize there is the problem with the three glasses.’ Ellie looked blank. ‘On the tray,’ explained Abby. ‘The police will find broken shards from three glasses, not one.’
‘Oh God,’ said Ellie, her face in her hands.
‘Did she grab you in any way?’
‘No. What . . . you’re thinking self-defence?’
Abby deflated. ‘I was, but . . .’
‘What?’
‘Well, we ran. It doesn’t look great.’
‘But . . .’
‘I know, that was my idea. But I . . . I panicked. I wanted to get you away.’
‘But if we’d stayed . . .’
‘You’d still be going to prison.’
Ellie’s eyes widened in shock.