The last resort, p.24
The Last Resort, page 24
If she had jumped, it would all be over now and none of them would have done anything wrong. Zoe knows this isn’t totally true, but it feels good to tell herself that. ‘She was out of her mind,’ she says. ‘All that stuff about sacrificing herself. She sounded nuts.’
‘That’s how much she loves this place,’ Mel says. ‘That’s how much she believes.’
Zoe clears her throat. ‘I don’t feel safe around her any more. I haven’t done for a while.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Mel asks.
‘At least I’m honest enough to admit it,’ Zoe says.
‘I think what Zoe means,’ Carl says, ‘is that Sofia being here has given us all an opportunity to reassess a few things.’
‘Like your writing career?’ Mel says.
‘Enough.’ Joe reaches for a piece of toast. ‘We can’t afford to fight amongst ourselves.’ He bites into the toast with a loud crunch.
‘How can you even think about eating at a time like this?’ Holly says.
Joe swallows. ‘One of us has to keep our strength up.’
The curtness of their exchange unsettles Zoe. Holly and Joe rarely bicker.
The door to the kitchen opens. Dmitri enters, Sofia close behind him, glowing and unruffled in her white yoga outfit.
‘Dmitri filled me in on your mountain-top drama,’ Sofia says. ‘Quite the morning you’ve had.’
‘This isn’t a game,’ Mel says. ‘We were lucky to get to Quinn before she jumped.’
‘Were you?’ Sofia leans over Joe’s shoulder and grabs a piece of toast. ‘Wouldn’t that have made life easier for you?’ She bites off a chunk of the toast. ‘This is so good,’ she says, her mouth full. ‘I thought all that only happened in movies. People on drugs thinking they can fly.’ She stretches out both arms and spins round the kitchen, coming to rest against one of the workstations.
As far as Zoe can tell, Sofia feels no remorse for drugging Quinn.
‘You should have pushed her when you had the chance.’ Sofia pulls off another hunk of toast with her fingers.
‘I could never do that,’ Holly says.
‘None of you were tempted to give her a little shove?’ Sofia’s high, tinkling laugh rings out in the kitchen. ‘A tiny little shove?’
‘No,’ Mel says. ‘We had the ideal circumstances, but we didn’t do it. That should tell you all you need to know.’
Sofia rolls the bread between her fingers forming a greasy, doughy ball. ‘Shame. One quick push and it would all have been over. Now you’ll have to find another way.’
Mel pushes her coffee away. ‘We’re not going to—’
‘Poor Quinn.’ Sofia rolls the ball of dough back and forth. ‘I don’t blame her for freaking out in the monastery. I had nightmares last night and I wasn’t even on any drugs.’
‘You shouldn’t have gone in there,’ Holly says.
‘I won’t be going again,’ Sofia tells her, ‘and neither will anyone else. I’ve decided to have it pulled down.’
‘What?’ Zoe says.
‘You can’t do that,’ declares Joe.
‘No, you can’t,’ Holly says. ‘It’s a holy building.’
Sofia crushes the dough between her fingers. ‘It’s a ruin. No one will miss it.’
Holly’s eyes widen. ‘But—’
‘I own this place; I can do what I want.’ Sofia turns to Dmitri. ‘Find me a company that will come and tear it down. As soon as possible.’
He nods and turns to leave, holding the kitchen door open for Sofia. She drops the ball of bread on the floor and giggles when, out of nowhere, a black kitten appears and pounces on it.
‘I do have a life to get back to and a rather large company to run,’ she says. ‘My offer won’t last forever.’
‘Even if it did, we wouldn’t accept it,’ Mel says.
‘I hope you’re not waiting for a miracle to save you? Quinn’s miracle days are over, I’m afraid.’ Sofia strides across the kitchen and pauses in the doorway. ‘I suggest you all think about what you want for this community and its future.’ She smiles. ‘And remember, time is running out.’
65
HOLLY
2019
Flight. That’s why Quinn ran. A natural physiological response to danger. Or perceived danger, in this case. I hate to think of her running scared from us. We only wanted to bring her home. I still shudder when I recall her standing at the edge of the ravine, threatening to throw herself off. She was obviously out of her mind on mushrooms, but it seemed to me as if Eva’s spirit had possessed her in the monastery and filled her head with suicidal thoughts.
I also don’t doubt Quinn meant what she said about sacrificing herself for us. She would have done it if we’d let her. We were all terrified, watching her teeter on the precipice. Shocked into silence. I remember being the first to cry out, but I don’t recall what I said. I only knew I couldn’t be responsible for another death at Pure Heart.
Flight. When I went to Ibiza for that graduation holiday, I didn’t even realise I was running away. I didn’t understand I’d been running since I was thirteen years old.
I was still running when I came to Pure Heart. For a while I thought I’d escaped the past, but no matter how hard and how fast you run, it always catches up with you.
PART IV
66
QUINN
2018
Time is still fluid after her trip to the monastery, but Quinn is sure almost two days have passed since she tried to leave Pure Heart and she knows it is now late morning. The door is always locked, but she hasn’t protested. She is tired, very tired and, despite the recent drama, often finds herself slipping into deep, dreamless sleep.
She isn’t always alone. Aphrodite is let in from time to time, although she doesn’t stay long. The others bring her trays of food; Joe has been preparing all her favourites. This morning she had apricots on top of her Greek yoghurt. Finely sliced and arranged in the shape of a fan. Local honey drizzled on top.
Mel comes most often, of course. Each time, she apologises for having to lock Quinn in. Each time she explains it’s for Quinn’s safety. I couldn’t bear anything to happen to you. At some point, Quinn will ask them to let her out again, but she can understand how worried everyone is after what happened. They only want what’s best for her.
During her last visit, Mel said Sofia is going to pull down the monastery. A crew are coming from Nicosia the day after tomorrow. Maybe something good did come from their visit to that sad ruin. Maybe Sofia is finally letting go of the past? Quinn hopes so. She is weary. Very weary.
She has a vague memory of Mel saying something important before she went to the monastery. Something about finding a way out of the situation. Mel hasn’t mentioned anything since, so perhaps she imagined it.
Not that she needs a way out. After what happened on the mountain, she should surely feel safe? Her community members could have let her jump off the cliff and claimed their prize, but they didn’t. Doesn’t that prove she was right to test them? Doesn’t that prove their hearts are pure?
The memory of her feet on the edge of the cliff gives her vertigo. She knows, theoretically, that death is a beginning not an end, and yet, when she threatened to throw herself into the ravine, she was terrified. She always thought she would face death with dignity, certain of reincarnation, but instead she wanted to cling to life with every atom of her physical body.
She remembers Tom Quinn preaching about the crucifixion of Christ. He often pointed out that the Lord’s son wasn’t thrilled about dying in agony on the cross. If even Jesus feared death, Quinn can’t blame herself for being human.
Her window is open although the mesh screen is secured with a clasp and padlock. None of the usual sounds of her community can be heard. No one splashing in the pool. No meals being eaten in the courtyard. Now and then she hears doors slam shut. A distant babble of voices. Earlier she saw Joe and Holly off to work in the garden, clutching spades and hessian sacks.
She turns away from the window. Where is Aphrodite? She could do with her cat’s warm body and satisfied purr. Not fair to keep her locked up in here though. Overcome by a rush of vulnerability, she clutches at the Pure Heart necklace Blake gave her. She’s been wearing it since returning from the monastery. She wishes he was here to look after her. She felt safe in his arms, with his warm hands massaging her back. None of this would be happening if he were still here.
Anger uncoils inside her. She tries to breathe it out. It isn’t fair to be angry at Blake for wanting his freedom. She knew from the start how complex he was.
She glances down at the bracelet on her right wrist. The one Andreas gave her with the evil eye charm. She can’t help wishing he was here too.
Returning to her armchair, she tells herself to get a grip of her fears. This country is getting to her. This country with its history of conflict and division. The current situation of occupation. She thinks of all the stories Andreas told her about the 1974 invasion. Neighbour turning on neighbour. Hand-to-hand fighting in the streets. Andreas attacked and injured by his best friend. People you love can turn on you, he used to say.
No, she thinks. That will not happen to her. Not here. Not at Pure Heart.
67
ZOE
2018
Lunchtime. Zoe and Sofia are relaxing in wicker chairs on the wooden balcony of a junior suite in the Mill Hotel in Kakopetria. The two of them wear matching white cotton robes and are sipping on glasses of cold, crisp Cypriot white wine.
From her seat, Zoe has a stunning view of the mountains and pine forests in the distance and the village of Kakopetria below. A maze of narrow streets flanked with traditional stone cottages, all with terracotta tiled roofs and wooden balconies. The Mill Hotel, a large, timbered building dating from the seventeenth century, is raised up above the village and Zoe can also see what passes as the centre of town, a cluster of modern buildings and the main road winding past them.
The town is busy today. Day trippers negotiate the narrow, cobbled streets, snapping pictures of the houses. A steady stream of cars passes through the town and drivers compete for parking spaces in the centre.
Dmitri slides open the doors to the balcony. ‘They will bring lunch in half an hour.’
‘Thanks,’ Sofia says.
Zoe feels Dmitri’s eyes travel over her before he closes the balcony door again and sits on one of the suite’s armchairs. What would happen if Sofia were to leave the two of them alone? She imagines herself walking up to Dmitri’s chair, slipping off her robe and lowering herself onto him.
Sofia stretches out her long, tanned legs. ‘It’s so good to get away.’
‘Yes.’ Zoe takes another sip of wine. The alcohol is a welcome antidote to their recent stresses. In fact, sitting here, out in the ‘real’ world, it seems absurd to think that three days ago she was chasing Quinn up a mountain trail. Absurd to think Sofia spiked the community’s leader with mushrooms and definitely absurd to think Sofia wants Quinn dead.
She inhales the clean mountain air. After the intensity of the past few days, she feels like a prisoner released. This morning, Sofia asked Zoe to accompany her on a trip out. She needed a pamper day and didn’t want to go alone. Purely pleasure, Sofia assured her, nothing to do with what was going on in the community. Zoe doesn’t believe that. Sofia always has an agenda.
Mel disapproved of the excursion. No surprise there. Carl, Joe and Holly thought it would be a good opportunity for Zoe to see where Sofia’s head is at. Joe was keen for Zoe to find out if Sofia will really go ahead with demolishing the monastery tomorrow.
When they arrived at the Mill Hotel, Zoe found two beauticians from a five-star hotel in Limassol waiting for them. Sofia had them driven in for the morning and insisted Zoe join her for a massage, facial, manicure and pedicure.
Zoe can’t help admiring her glossy red fingernails and toenails. Her shiny face feels clean and polished. Her body is still absorbing the fragrant massage oils. The whole morning reminded her of the preparation she had to do for TV appearances or music video shoots. So much fuss for just a few minutes of film. So much pressure to be flawless.
That was a lifetime ago. She’s a different person now.
While Sofia flicks through a copy of Vogue she found in the hotel lobby, Zoe stares at the view before her. So many cars in town. She sees a Land Rover with tinted windows pull up near the bank and wonders for a moment if Grigor has come to fetch them. A man emerges from the front passenger side, dressed in a black suit. He is tall with bleached white hair and looks familiar. Zoe realises she saw him at Dionysus by the Sea that night. He was the bodyguard of the old Russian guy who talked to Sofia. Roman Timchenko. Perhaps he and his wife have taken a drive into the mountains to escape the August heat.
‘So busy here.’ Sofia lowers her magazine and peers into the crowded street below. ‘A spiritual retreat in this area could attract a lot of people. The air, the connection to nature.’
‘I thought today was just pleasure?’
‘Everything is always business.’ Sofia drains the last of her wine. ‘Property prices in this area are going up again. More people want to spend time here.’
Sofia is right. The mountain villages have regained some of their former popularity in recent years.
‘The renovations wouldn’t need to be excessive,’ Sofia says. ‘A new swimming pool, maybe. Some daybeds in the orchard and the olive grove. There are so many chill places for people to hang out.’
Zoe pictures herself reclining on a daybed in the orchard during cherry blossom month.
#newideasblossoming #pureheart
‘You’ll need to get the accommodation sorted first,’ Sofia says. ‘Obviously, you’ll have some rooms in the main building, but you’ll need to put up some yurts or glamping pods. Once I’ve got rid of the monastery you could even build accommodation there.’
That answers Joe’s question, Zoe thinks. Once Sofia makes her mind up about something, she follows through. ‘You really think the retreat idea could work?’
‘The cult of wellness is big business.’ Sofia’s fingertips touch her smooth, glowing cheeks. ‘Bigger than religion these days. Everyone is desperate to be their best self and live the longest, healthiest life possible.’
‘What’s wrong with that?’
‘It’s an obsession and obsessions can be dangerous.’ Sofia shrugs. ‘But they can also be exploited.’ She examines her pink, manicured nails. ‘The super-rich won’t come to you, Pure Heart’s not sophisticated enough, but with the right advertising you could get rich people keen to experience simplicity and you’ll definitely get lonely, stressed career types looking for somewhere to belong for a week or two.’
‘You talk as though the retreat is inevitable?’
‘As Quinn would say, believe and it will happen.’ Sofia’s lips press together in a tight smile. ‘I suppose she thinks that only applies to the miracles she wants.’
‘But we—’
‘Obviously you’ll have to get some proper qualifications,’ Sofia says. ‘Yoga, tantra, whatever, but that won’t take long and think how much fun it would be. You could travel abroad to do courses, meet new people.’
Zoe has seen Tantra teacher training courses advertised all over the world.
#reclaimingmyinnergoddess #meetingthebestpeople
‘I’m flattered you think I can do all this, but—’
‘With my money you could do it all.’
‘Your money isn’t free. What you’re asking us to do for it is… it’s a lot.’
Sofia looks down at her hands. In the silence, Zoe hears the river below the hotel gushing over the limestone boulders in its path. When Sofia looks up, Zoe is surprised to see real fragility on her exquisite face.
‘What am I doing?’ Sofia says. ‘Am I crazy?’
Zoe, confused, puts down her wine glass. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Maybe I am like my mother? It’s crazy, isn’t it? What I’m asking you to do?’
What the hell is happening? Is Sofia about to change her mind about everything? Zoe is reminded of Eva’s dramatic mood swings. Has this whole plan of Sofia’s just been a rich girl’s whim? Could she be about to leave Pure Heart and take her offer with her?
A hollow sensation unfurls in Zoe’s chest. She has reached the line, but does she dare cross it? ‘What about justice?’ she says eventually.
‘Is it justice?’ Sofia’s voice is strained.
Another silence stretches between them. Zoe senses the importance of any words she might say, and the pressure makes her throat constrict. She should really agree with Sofia and persuade her to abandon her plan.
‘Is it?’ Sofia asks.
Zoe clears her throat. ‘I understand why you feel the way you do,’ she says. ‘I understand why you need to make things right.’
She feels like she’s in the grip of a strange, disturbing dream. One where she does scary and unsettling things but feels safe because she knows it is only a dream.
Sofia nods. ‘Eva would be proud of me, wouldn’t she?’
‘Yes, I think she would.’
‘Thank you.’ Sofia gives her a grateful look. ‘Yes. Money for justice. A fair transaction.’
If this was a dream, Zoe thinks, if this was a world without consequence, what would she say next? She shifts in her seat. ‘Not everyone feels able to give you that justice.’
‘You’re talking about Mel?’
‘She’s not open to a change of leadership.’
‘Still under Quinn’s spell, is she?’
‘Quinn believes in her. Trusts her.’
‘Quinn believes in everyone. That’s her superpower. She makes everyone feel special.’
