The last resort, p.25
The Last Resort, page 25
Zoe can’t argue with that. She knows what it’s like to have Quinn look deep into your eyes and tell you how beautiful your soul is.
‘That’s why your retreat will be a success,’ Sofia says. ‘People say they want enlightenment but all they really want is for someone to tell them they’re special.’ She gets up from her chair. ‘You don’t have to worry about Mel. Trust me.’ She reaches out a long, slender arm and taps on the balcony doors. When Dmitri opens them, she speaks to him in Russian. He disappears and soon returns clutching a printed A4 document in a clear plastic folder.
‘For you.’ He hands it to Zoe. When she takes it, his fingers brush against hers.
‘Thank you.’ An intense surge of heat between her legs makes her press her thighs together. She glances at the cover page of the document.
Background Report: Melanie Harris
‘My investigator told me there’s still more to come,’ Sofia says. ‘He’s trying to trace Mel’s ex-boyfriends, but this will give you plenty of ammunition for now.’ She nods at the report. ‘I think you’ll find it an interesting read.’
68
ZOE
2018
Zoe arrives back from Kakopetria with Sofia in the late afternoon. She goes straight to her rooms, hoping to find Carl, but he and his notebook are gone.
She hides the report Sofia gave her under her mattress. She’ll tell Carl about it first and then show it to Joe and Holly. Before heading out again, she admires her reflection in the full-length mirror in the bedroom. After a long and boozy lunch, a stylist from Limassol called Maria arrived at the suite, laden with bags of clothing Sofia had ordered. Let the shops come to us. Amazing what money can buy. Amongst the outfits were several Sofia had ordered with Zoe in mind. Zoe protested at the generosity, but in the end selected the dress she has on now. A black silk slip with thin straps. The luxurious fabric clings to Zoe’s curves and reaches down to the silver Grecian sandals Sofia had ordered in her size. Before they left the hotel, Sofia applied glossy red lipstick to Zoe’s lips. The same shade as her nail polish. Zoe hardly recognises herself.
She finds Carl in the orchard. He is sitting at the wrought-iron table, captivated by the story spilling forth from his pen onto the page. When she slides her arms around his neck, he lets out a startled cry and looks around him, as if confused to find himself in the real world.
His confusion intensifies as his eyes slide over her revamped appearance. ‘Wow,’ he says finally, confusion giving way to approval. ‘Just… wow.’ He beckons her to him for a kiss. He tastes of coffee and tobacco. ‘That’s quite the pamper day.’
She takes the seat opposite him. Pulls it closer to the table. ‘It wasn’t all pleasure.’ She tells him about the report on Mel and gives him a summary of its contents.
Carl leans back in the chair and rests his head in his clasped hands. ‘Detective Inspector Mel has been a naughty girl.’
‘I haven’t told Joe and Holly yet.’
‘Mel will have to concede the moral high ground – that’s for sure.’
If Mel really wanted to stop Sofia’s plans, she could have reported the events at Pure Heart to the police at any time, but she hasn’t. Zoe used to think that was out of respect for Quinn but now she knows Mel has plenty of reasons to want to stay in the community. ‘Sofia gave the report to me because she thinks we can use it.’
Carl nods. ‘I expect we can.’
In the quiet that grows between them, Zoe hears the greedy insistent buzz of the wasps crawling over the rotting apricots nearby. ‘Sofia won’t give up on this,’ she says. She wonders if, without her encouragement at the hotel, Sofia might have given up. Or at least had serious doubts about what she was doing. ‘She wants justice.’
‘And, in the end, Quinn was sort of responsible for Eva’s death.’ Carl drums his fingers on the cover of his notebook. ‘Eva was in withdrawal from those meds and that made her kill herself. There’s no one else to blame.’
He gazes at the ground and Zoe knows he’s thinking about the night before Eva’s death. The two of them lying in bed, kissing and touching each other when a familiar knock at the door interrupted them. Tap tap tap. Eva outside, wanting to join them. Lately, her visits had been less about pleasure and more about comfort. Sometimes she cried while the two of them held her. That night, Carl looked at Zoe and shook his head.
‘I can’t handle Eva tonight,’ he said.
Zoe nodded her agreement. ‘Me neither.’
She felt relief when the tapping at the door stopped. Relief because no matter how much she enjoyed sex with Eva and no matter how much she told herself true love was not possessive, she couldn’t stop jealousy writhing inside her when Eva guided Carl’s head between her long and perfect legs.
‘Hey.’ Carl reaches for her hand across the table. ‘You okay?’
‘Yes.’
‘There’s no one else to blame.’
‘I know,’ she says. For months after Eva’s death, she wondered if they could have provided enough comfort to get her through that next day. She’ll never know, and this isn’t the time to dwell on the past. The future is still undecided and the chance to take control of it could easily slip away. ‘Sofia really thinks we could make this place a successful retreat.’
‘We could. With you in charge.’
Zoe thinks about the dead bird in the pool and the snake. Portents of regeneration and rebirth. ‘I think I could do a good job of it.’
‘You would.’
‘And you’re going to write a brilliant novel. Even better than your first.’
‘I think I just might. I certainly want to see how this story turns out.’
‘So do I.’
His eyes lock onto hers. She spies a wolfish hunger in them.
‘If we accept Sofia’s offer, there won’t be any turning back,’ she says.
‘I don’t want to turn back. Do you?’
‘No.’
Gazing into Carl’s eyes, she feels a spark of heat low in her belly. The sense of deep connection she’s been longing for. As if they are truly seeing each other for the very first time.
Even when the black, four-legged drone appears and hovers over them, its irritating buzz disrupting the early evening peace, they cannot take their eyes off each other.
‘I bet that’s Dmitri,’ Carl says.
Zoe nods. ‘Probably.’
‘You think about fucking him, don’t you?’
‘Yes.’
Carl gets up from his chair and kneels in front of hers. ‘That’s very bad behaviour.’
‘I know. Someone should punish me.’
She gasps as Carl yanks her dress up her thighs, revealing the black lace underwear Sofia insisted on giving her. ‘Yes,’ she says as he pulls the underwear aside and slides two fingers deep inside her. She tries to shift her hips, but his other hand reaches up and grips the base of her throat, pinning her in place.
‘Punishment is exactly what you fucking deserve,’ Carl says.
The drone hovers for a moment. The thought of Dmitri watching her brings Zoe to the brink of orgasm. When the drone darts away, her tortured scream of pleasure chases it into the approaching twilight.
69
QUINN
2018
Something is happening. For the past half an hour, Quinn has heard raised voices in the house. Grigor next door in his room speaking Russian on his phone. Doors slamming. She has watched from her window as first Mel and Carl and then Zoe and Sofia hurried across the courtyard and disappeared into the orchard below.
It is not yet 9 p.m. but stars already speckle the sky. The cicadas’ song is as rhythmic and urgent as always. A gang of cats brawl below Quinn’s window.
Is she alone in the house?
Aphrodite sits on the armchair, her front feet pressed prissily together. Quinn is sure there is suspicion in her cat’s green eyes.
What is going on out there?
Such a quiet day until now. She took a shower this morning and changed into clean orange yoga pants and an orange T-shirt. At lunchtime she had a short visit from Mel, during which Quinn learned Sofia and Zoe had gone into Kakopetria that morning. A pamper day, Mel said, with sarcastic emphasis on the word pamper. The news unsettled Quinn. She once thought Zoe might be a good influence on Sofia, but now she’s not so sure.
Is their trip out connected with all this commotion? Why is a dark dread rising up inside her?
A metallic clinking from the other side of her door. The rattle of keys.
‘It is me.’ Grigor pushes the door open. ‘Come.’
‘Where?’ The dark dread curls around her heart. ‘Where are you taking me?’
He hesitates. ‘There is something you must see.’
The last place Quinn wants to go is the monastery. When Grigor revealed their destination, she protested, but he insisted she accompany him. The others are waiting and have something to show her.
As they cross the arid land towards the trees where the monastery hides, Quinn’s hallucination comes back to her. Sinking into the earth. Meeting her own bones.
Her heart smashes against her ribs. She’s having a flashback – that’s all. She just has to ride it out.
A voice in her head whispers a warning. They are going to do it now. This will be the place.
That would be fitting, wouldn’t it? Sofia would enjoy watching her die in the same place Eva did.
So dark in the trees, but as they approach the monastery, she sees light through one of the broken windows. Someone is sobbing. Voices rise in urgent conference.
‘What’s going on?’ she asks Grigor.
‘Is better you see.’
When he pushes open the monastery door, Quinn is confronted by a disorientating scene. Holly is slumped against the left-hand wall of the space, deep sobs rattling her whole body. Joe crouches beside her, a desolate look on his face. When they see Quinn come in, Holly crumples against her husband, as if avoiding Quinn’s gaze.
At the far end of the monastery, where the bare earth marks what was once the altar space, is a strange tableau. Dmitri and Mel are holding two large, bright torches. Beams of light illuminate a shallow hole in the earth. Two discarded spades and several hessian sacks lie nearby, close to where Carl, Zoe and Sofia are standing in a tight, stunned cluster.
‘What’s going on?’ Quinn says.
Mel lowers her torch. ‘I’m afraid there’s something you need to see.’
Something about Mel’s tone, official but gentle, makes Quinn wary. The tone Mel might have used in her former police career to break bad news to someone.
Why does the monastery look like a crime scene? The lights, the heaped mounds of earth.
The dark dread returns. When Mel takes her elbow and steers her to where Dmitri is shining his light, Quinn wants to flee.
When she reaches the hole, she doesn’t see anything at first. Dry soil, stones, dead and twisted roots.
Mel raises her torch and Quinn sees two long, white bones, covered with tattered shreds of denim. Leg bones. She squints. Now she sees a ribcage.
‘A body?’ she says. Is this what she saw during her mushroom trip? Not her bones but these bones. Not her body, but this dead body.
Have they discovered one of the Cypriot people who went missing during the invasion? Others have been found in this area. They should contact the Committee on Missing Persons.
A silver chain glints around the skeleton’s neck. Quinn’s hand reaches to her own necklace. The one Blake gave her.
She drops to her knees and scrapes away dirt until she can pull the necklace round and read the inscription on the pendant.
Αγνή καρδιά
‘Blake?’ She looks up at Mel. ‘It’s him, isn’t it?’
‘Yes.’ Mel’s torch now lights up the corpse’s skull. Empty sockets, grinning jaw.
A howl escapes Quinn’s lips. She lays her hands on her dead lover’s chest, like she used to when he was alive, and she wanted to heal his wounded heart.
‘I’m sorry,’ Holly says.
Quinn’s head snaps round. ‘What for?’
‘I see them on the drone coming down here.’ Dmitri points at Holly and Joe. ‘They have spades and bags. When they don’t come back, I come here and find them digging.’
‘We can explain,’ Joe says.
Quinn springs to her feet. ‘What did you do to him?’
‘I’m going back to the house,’ Sofia says, ‘I can’t bear to be here any more.’ She nods at Grigor who moves towards the monastery door and opens it.
‘We must postpone the demolition crew until we sort this,’ Dmitri says.
Sofia nods her agreement. ‘Don’t worry,’ she tells Holly. ‘This doesn’t have to go any further.’
She sweeps out of the door. Grigor follows. The door creaks shut behind him.
‘Let’s sit down.’ Mel ushers Quinn away from the grave.
Shaking with shock, Quinn lets herself be led to the centre of the space. She drops to her knees. Waits for someone to speak.
‘It was nine years ago,’ Joe says. ‘You’d gone back to the UK for your mother’s funeral. Carl and Zoe were away camping up the west coast. There were a few others still here then, but they’d gone to Limassol for a carnival. Blake stayed behind.’
‘It was just the three of us.’ Holly sits up, wiping her face. Her eyes are red and swollen, her expression haunted. ‘Let me tell it,’ she says to Joe.
Quinn is shivering. Mel takes off her burgundy sweatshirt and drapes it over Quinn’s shoulders.
‘Blake had been acting strange around me,’ Holly says. ‘I never felt comfortable when I was on my own with him.’
‘You weren’t the only one,’ Zoe says.
Carl nods his agreement. ‘I loathed the guy.’
‘I did try and tell you,’ Holly says, ‘but you didn’t take me seriously.’
‘We all told you we didn’t like him,’ Joe says to Quinn, ‘a number of times.’
Quinn remembers their complaints. She knew Blake could rub people up the wrong way, but she urged the community to make allowances for him. His troubled past called for compassion.
‘This is hard.’ Holly rubs her eyes. ‘The day it happened, I came down here to lay flowers for Eva. I didn’t know Blake had followed me. He pretended he was just out walking and happened to see me come in here, but I knew he was lying.’ Another sob chokes out of her. ‘He made a pass at me and when I told him to back off, he… he got nasty. He… he—’
‘He attacked her,’ Joe says.
‘He started tearing at my clothes,’ Holly continues. ‘He said he wanted to be inside me. He pushed me down on the ground.’
Quinn doesn’t want to believe this story, but she’s never known Holly to lie. ‘Something came over me.’ Holly’s eyes, wild in the torchlight, roam around the monastery as if watching her past self in action. ‘I was so full of rage. There was a rock on the ground. Near my hand. Like Spirit had placed it there.’
Quinn doesn’t want to hear any more. She can imagine what happened next. Holly, her past trauma triggered by the attack. Acting on instinct. Doing everything she could to prevent the same thing happening again.
‘I don’t remember doing it,’ Holly says. ‘It’s like I blacked out and then I was sitting on the floor next to him and I had blood on my hands.’
A surge of happiness overwhelms Quinn. Blake didn’t leave her. He didn’t abandon their love like she thought. Then comes a sharp drop in her guts. He didn’t leave but he is dead. He is dead and he did betray her. In the worst way possible. ‘He must have been in a very dark place,’ she says.
‘No.’ Zoe steps forward. ‘You don’t get to excuse him.’
‘Did you know?’ Quinn asks her. She turns to Carl. ‘Did you?’
‘Neither of us knew,’ Zoe says. ‘We found out tonight, just like you.’
Dmitri bends down to examine Blake’s remains. He reaches into the shallow grave and tilts the skull one way then the other.
‘You shouldn’t be doing that.’ Quinn looks pleadingly at Mel. ‘Isn’t this a crime scene? He shouldn’t be touching it.’
‘I’m not sure you should rely on Mel to preserve evidence,’ Zoe says.
‘What happened to Holly was a crime,’ Carl says.
‘What would the police make of all this?’ Joe asks Mel.
Mel sighs. ‘Hard to say. You don’t have any physical evidence of the assault on Holly. It wasn’t reported at the time and even if it had been there was no penetration.’
Holly moans. ‘He was going to. I know he was.’
‘I don’t doubt you,’ Mel says. ‘But anyone looking at that skull can see you hit him more than once. Long after he must have been unconscious. That makes it harder to plead self-defence. And then you hid the body.’
‘That was my idea,’ Joe says. ‘I was trying to protect her.’
‘It doesn’t look good,’ Mel says.
‘We were going to move the body,’ Joe explains. ‘When Sofia said she was going to tear this place down, we thought it was the safest thing to do.’
Quinn thinks of the number of times Joe and Holly have pledged their loyalty to her and to Pure Heart since Sofia’s arrival. This is our home. We can never leave here.
‘I’m sorry, Quinn,’ Holly says. ‘I’m so very, very sorry.’
70
HOLLY
2019
Fight. A natural physiological response to danger. I didn’t know I was capable of it until Blake attacked me. I’d never fought before – not against Uncle Mike and not with my parents when they told me I was lying. When Blake had me down on the ground and I heard him unzip his jeans, one clear thought swirled around in my mind. Not this time. Not this time not this time not this time.
Afterwards, I helped Joe bury him. It felt like the right thing to do. The only thing to do. Who can think clearly in a situation like that? Psychopaths maybe, but we were two ordinary people doing their best to deal with an extraordinary situation.
