Before my mother was returned to her grave, a second body was buried in a shallow layer of earth beneath where hers would lie and there is no reason at all to believe they won’t both lie there forever. It wasn’t easy to do, of course, but easy is seldom worth it. Besides, we can do hard things, this I’ve learned. And as much as I hate the idea of that vile woman sharing a grave with my beloved mother, I’ve accepted it was the price I had to pay for my freedom.
Maxime Dubois-Joseph never turned up and I often say a little prayer that he never will. His father tells me that both they and the private investigators they’ve hired over the past eighteen months to look into the case, believe that he is likely still on the run with Bianka Langeland, a woman considered both manipulative and extremely persuasive. There have been several reliable sightings, most recently in Lisbon. Louis Dubois-Joseph, who is very old and ailing, never went back to Paris after his wife’s arrest, preferring to remain in Ibiza, staring out at the sea, totally unaware of what it holds beneath its surface. We visit him most afternoons, and for Louis, some gentle blessings have appeared in the autumn of his life. One of the last things Maxime did before he vanished without a trace was father a child. A girl. A sole heiress – discreetly confirmed with DNA – not only to Sa Capricciosa and the vast property portfolio her grandparents possess, but her share of Can Xara, too. Her existence is, in all effect, a marriage. The marriage of Louis Dubois-Joseph and Ximena Marí that never was.
Today is another beautiful day on the most incredible island on the planet and I woke to the sound of my baby’s furious wail. Xara Ximena is ten months old now and it’s fair to say she takes after me. She’s an early riser, a go-getter, and a fiery little thing with soulful dark eyes like her namesake and a glorious, dimpled smile. I won’t lie, the initial discovery of Xara’s existence was a little challenging to wrap my head around. After all, I was a married forty-two-year-old anorexic murderer with quite enough problems on my plate – the last thing I needed was an unplanned baby with a dead man child. But she was the one who saved me.
I found out after the nausea didn’t disappear and it dawned on me that it wasn’t necessarily just an immediate response to seeing dead bodies, but rather a physiological manifestation of something wrong inside of me. I went to the doctor and he ran some tests. He said a pregnancy test was routine and I assured him it wasn’t necessary as I’d had the coil fitted after the birth of my son and replaced it bang on time ever since, but even as I spoke, the gruesome reality that this was untrue occurred to me. Some months previously I’d experienced intermittent bleeding and terrible period pains and so I decided to take a six-month break from the coil to see if my symptoms improved. This seemed fair enough, since I hadn’t had sex with my husband for years at that point. And I simply forgot, having been so used to having the coil for almost two decades. If there had been a single moment of rational thinking around contraception that night at Sa Capricciosa, it must have been instantly eviscerated by a tsunami of cocaine and raw, ridiculous desire.
I lift my baby from her cot and carry her downstairs. I kiss the top of her head for each step and she giggles merrily. When Oscar and Madeleine see Xara, they shriek and pull funny faces at her, though they obviously weren’t initially as enthusiastic. But here’s the thing – people mostly come around. We adapt and grow and accept. Sure, people talked – in fact, I’m sure people did nothing but talk for the first few months. But then they found other things to talk about than the car crash personal life of that lady who won’t eat carbs. People forget. The kids were mad, and now they’re not mad – they’re thriving. It just took a bit of time and therapy.
My career doesn’t appear to have suffered at all – in fact it is going from strength to strength and Mediterranean Keto Queen is launching next month on Streamstar. Must be true what they say, that all publicity is good publicity.
‘Hey, babe,’ says a voice, and I turn around in surprise to see Alessio sitting there at the far end of the kitchen island – usually my man child boyfriend isn’t up before eleven. He’s scooping spoonfuls of beef jerky into his plush mouth and I pad over, Xara perching on my hip, and kiss him hard on the mouth. We chat for a while, laughing and discussing that afternoon’s logistics like any normal family, as if there ever was such a thing.
The kids are picked up by the school bus and rush off in a flurry of goodbyes and chatter and high fives for Alessio, who they’ve concluded is ‘pretty cool’. Then he and I go and pick mint leaves from the garden for our tea. Xara goes down for her ten o’clock nap. Alessio lifts me onto the marble island which is so cold beneath my bare skin that I wince, pulls my underwear to the side, and then he’s inside me moving hard. I clutch onto the back of his neck, my hand closing around the double ‘o’ tattoo protruding slightly from his collar.
Acknowledgements
Like the characters in this novel, I wanted a breath of fresh air when I set out to write Girl Friends, and I wanted to infuse the book with the beauty and hedonism of Ibiza. So, like the ladies in this book, I went to Spain, and Spain worked its magic in making me reconnect with everything again, and I hope something of all the beautiful experiences I had there found its way into Girl Friends.
I had the fantastic support and encouragement of many, many people whilst creating Girl Friends, both personally and professionally. A special thank you is due Laura Longrigg, my amazing agent for many years – I’ll never forget our many wins, and wish you all the best for your future adventures. A big thank you also to my new agent, Federico Ambrosini – I am very excited to work with you and for the future. Thank you also to everyone at Salomonsson Agency for the warm welcome.
A very big thank you to Susan Smith, Tim Webb and Andrea Mitchell – I so appreciate your hard work, and am excited for what lays ahead.
I’ve been fortunate enough to work with two fantastic editors on this book, whose instinct and wisdom have benefitted it greatly – thank you so much to both Madeleine O’Shea and Bethan Jones. Our mad plot conversations really are a highlight of my professional life. Thank you also to all the other wonderful people at Head of Zeus – I always feel lucky to be published by you. Thank you to Louis Greenberg for the pitch-perfect insights, again. A very big thank you is also due Sophie Ransom – I feel very lucky to be working with you.
A huge thank you is due to my writer’s group in Spain – Ida, Kendra, Raquel, Sara and Terese. You’ve really made my year and I am so grateful for all of you. A special thanks to Terese, my ‘friendsick’ expert, whose forensic insights were invaluable as Girl Friends took shape.
This novel centres around the power and pitfalls of close female friendships, and there is no doubt I have been especially fortunate in that department. So thank you to all my amazing, empowering, interesting, wild girl friends – you know who you are and you enrich my life on so many levels. A special thank you is due Charlotte and Bianka, who have shown amazing levels of chilled-outness whilst lending their names to the protagonists of this novel.
A huge thank you to the booksellers who read and talk about my novels to readers all over the world – I appreciate you so much.
Thank you to Lisa Lawrence, for all the hours and all the insights. We’re nearing a point when I almost totally trust that you’ll never put a fly in my wine glass.
Thank you to Chris and Judy, for everything – we appreciate you so much. Thank you to Lana del Rey for the sweary ballads I love to write to. And to Tricia Wastvedt, for everything, always.
Last, but definitely not least, thank you to my family: my mother Marianne, my sister Emmanuelle, my queen Laura, and my children Oscar, Anastasia and Louison – you really are everything and I love you. Thank you for putting up with the radical opposite of a nine-to-five and for your endless belief and support.
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About the Author
Photo Credit Nina Rangøy
ALEX DAHL is a half-American, half-Norwegian author. Born in Oslo, she studied Russian and German linguistics with international studies, then went on to complete an MA in creative writing at Bath Spa University and an MSc in business management at Bath University. A committed Francophile, Alex loves to travel, and has so far lived in Moscow, Paris, Stuttgart, Sandefjord, Switzerland, Bath, and London. She is the author of five other thrillers: After She’d Gone, Cabin Fever, Playdate, The Heart Keeper, and The Boy at the Door, which was shortlisted for the CWA Debut Dagger.
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