‘Oh, God. Haven’t I been saying for years that someone is going to break their neck on those stairs?’
‘Yep.’
‘And now look at you. Your face all smashed up and bloody.’
‘I know. You’re right. They’re very dangerous.’
‘Was Bianka in front of you or behind you when you fell?’ It’s a strange question. Why would Anette ask me that? It makes me wonder if she’s already heard the story from Bianka and for some reason suspects it to be untrue. I immediately feel ridiculous – Anette wouldn’t play those kinds of games with me.
‘I don’t remember,’ I say, deciding it’s actually most likely that I wouldn’t remember anything – and that is the actual truth, at least. ‘I came to and Bianka was cradling my head, gently splashing my face with water.’
‘That’s so awful. Thank God she knew what to do.’ I nod. Thank God for Bianka, it would seem.
‘But what’s happened to your skin?’ I follow Anette’s gaze to my chest where the bathrobe has slipped open, revealing long, bruised streaks where I’ve dragged the wiry shower brush across my skin over and over, trying to clean myself of blood stains.
‘I must have scraped myself when I fell on the steps.’
‘Let me see.’ Anette moves forward, tugging at the bathrobe as though it were a curtain obscuring a window she wants to look through.
‘Anette. No.’
‘Show me. Please.’ I feel admonished, like a child, and the truth is I often do by Anette. I can feel my skin stinging and every muscle in my body aching. I don’t know how much I might have hurt myself with the intense scrubbing and I am not about to show Anette without having a chance to see for myself first.
‘Anette. I’ve told you what happened. I don’t want to show you. You do need to respect that. Why don’t you head downstairs and grab some cava and I’ll be down really soon.’
‘I don’t mean to be rude, but it’s going to take more than a little while to cover that up,’ she says, pointing to my face. I sigh and make as if to get up, but the room begins to spin and I have to lie back down. I try to stop the tears that sting in my eyes but I don’t have the strength.
‘Anette, would you mind grabbing me a couple of ibuprofen from the second drawer in the bathroom?’ Anette gets up and in the moment it takes for her to locate the pills and return to the bedroom with them, I fling the bathrobe open and take a quick look at my body. It looks like I’ve been mauled by a tiger: long streaks of bruising crossing my arms and stomach. I cover myself as Anette appears, and hands me the pills and a glass of water.
‘Charlotte. Look. I hope this isn’t overstepping but I just can’t not ask… What is going on with you and Bianka? The whole thing, it just feels weird. One minute, you two are behaving like you’re crushing on each other. The next, the vibe is cold and obviously contentious. She’s perfectly pleasant and everything, but she follows everything you do with her eyes, laughs at absolutely everything you say, always makes it so that she’s sitting by you. If anyone else is speaking, she literally glazes over. I swear, it’s like she’s in love with you.’
‘Anette—’
‘I know what you’re going to say. That I’m just jealous and you’re allowed to have other friends. And of course you are. I know I’ve been possessive in the past but that is not where I’m coming from when it comes to Bianka. This is a completely different thing.’
‘She’s one of my best friends.’ She was, anyway. I know that Anette is right about how Bianka gravitates toward me; I was probably flattered at first but now I find it stifling and inappropriate.
‘You’ve just met, Charlotte. Of course she’s not your best friend. I’m your best friend, since we were five years old. I can see it’s intense, but that isn’t necessarily friendship, is it?’
‘You’re right,’ I say. I need to tread carefully here, making Anette feel validated and like I agree with her observations while simultaneously starting to pave the ground for distancing myself from Bianka after we return home. After what has happened, that is going to be difficult and I have to tread carefully; I absolutely cannot afford to anger her, not now, not ever. At the thought of this I feel as though I can’t breathe and I’m loosening the already loose bathrobe to get more air but I momentarily forget that I’ve hurt myself with the scrubbing and Anette lets out a gasp when she sees the marks on my skin, like lashings.
‘Oh, my God. Charlotte, you have to tell me the truth about what’s happened. Please. Did someone do this to you?’ I shake my head but I still can’t breathe properly unless I hunch forward and take tiny little panting breaths the way I was taught to in labour, and I sit like this for a long while until the feeling of panic subsides and I can breathe slightly more normally again, Anette rubbing my back and making soothing noises.
‘I have to tell you something,’ I say, at last. ‘I’ve done something awful.’
Anette nods and reaches across to squeeze my hand. I glance at the door, which is firmly shut, and lower my voice. Even if someone – Bianka – pressed her ear to the door, she wouldn’t be able to hear what I’m saying. I don’t know how she would react to me telling Anette what I’m about to, but I know that I need to speak to somebody.
‘I know this is going to shock you. And I just can’t – I can’t explain how it even happened, it’s so unbelievably out of character. You know what I’m like, I’m not exactly a risk-taker—’
‘You slept together.’
I can literally feel my mouth drop open in surprise.
Anette squeezes my hand again and lets out a little nervous laugh, followed by a mouthed woah.
‘Yes. How…’
‘Charlotte. Come on. It wasn’t that much of a surprise. She’s all over you, like I said. It’s literally like you’re the sun and she’s a little fucking planet orbiting it.’
‘I can see how it might have seemed a little much.’
‘I was a bit surprised you don’t seem to mind. She’s so touchy-feely. You’re not, usually.’
‘Well. I guess I was flattered.’
‘But were you really attracted to her?’
I think back to that night at Benirràs, when I grabbed Bianka’s hand because it felt impossible not to. ‘Yes. At the beginning I was. But I don’t think it was really about that. I think it was more a case of needing to feel alive and desired again.’
Anette smiles empathetically and takes my hand. ‘I know that feeling. It’s not strange to feel like that sometimes, especially when you’ve been married a long time.’
I nod. ‘I just felt new again, you know? Young. Sexy. Like I could be anything. Sometimes I feel that if I just keep doing what I’m doing, the rest of my life will be wasted. Even though it’s a good life. Comfortable.’
‘I’m not sure a good life should be summed up as comfortable. It’s not unreasonable to want to feel alive again.’
‘The thing is, it’s not going to happen again. I’m going to tell her. But… But, Anette, it’s more than that. Worse than that.’ I wish I could tell her everything. About the party. Even about the dead man in the finca. I wish I wouldn’t have to keep those things to myself for the rest of my life. And maybe worse, that Bianka knows and thereby wields some real power over me. But perhaps I’m being cynical – it feels ungrateful to second-guess her motives for helping me this afternoon after everything that’s happened.
‘What do you mean?’
