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But Annalise didn’t elaborate any further. Olivia took the hint and hung back, letting her get a few steps ahead.
‘Weird about your boyfriend,’ Annalise said over her shoulder. ‘How is it even possible to miss the boarding time? Did he just forget?’
Now it was Olivia’s turn to feel defensive. ‘That’s why I need to get online.’
In the library, Olivia sat down at the laptop she’d now adopted as her own, while Annalise sat down at one opposite.
Thankfully the login went much smoother this time, so it seemed that the internet – while still glacially slow – was at least functioning.
As her inbox loaded, Olivia audibly sighed. Still no emails from him.
She opened a new draft.
Aaron. I don’t know what’s going on or why you’re not contacting me. I’m praying that you’reOKand nothing bad has happened. But if you’re reading this somewhere, then you have to know: I’m scared. I keep seeing danger everywhere, jumping at shadows – I even thought the guy who was hanging around outside the restaurant in Ushuaia was on the boat. All I need is some reassurance from you that things areOK. That we’reOK.
Your Livi xx
Then she knew it was time to get in touch with someone else.
Tricia.
The last time they spoke properly had been the day she’d found out she’d failed her final actuarial exam, a couple of weeks before the Yennin auction.
Results day was always huge at Pendle, and ordinarily Olivia would be excited. The results got posted at five p.m., the entire office gathering around a single computer screen – normally Tricia’s, as she was impartial, being one of the admin team as opposed to an actuarial candidate.
Tricia would have the list of exams printed out, marked with who had taken what. Then she’d load up the results and announce the pass/fails out loud to the whole office – to cheers or boos. Once all the results were given, they’d go out as a company to a nearby bar and celebrate – or commiserate – with each other.
This time, when Tricia had reached the page for Olivia’s exam, there’d been a hushed silence. Everyone knew this was the final pass she needed before she would be a fully qualified actuary. She hadn’t failed one yet, making her somewhat of a unicorn of the actuarial world, where the pass rates for each exam hovered at around thirty per cent.
Her luck – and her manic workload – had caught up with her. She hadn’t just failed the exam – she’d bombed it.
Tricia had moved on quickly, but not quickly enough.
Olivia had disappeared to the bathrooms. She’d sat down on the closed toilet seat, her head in her hands. When she sat up again, in her palm was a clump of her auburn hair. She stared at it in disbelief.
There was a knock on the bathroom stall door. ‘You OK in there?’ came Trish’s voice.
‘Fine,’ she replied too loudly. She dumped the hair in the toilet and flushed it, making a show of pulling toilet paper from the roll.
When she exited the stall, Tricia was still standing there, waiting for her with her arms crossed.
‘I’m going home,’ said Olivia.
‘Hang on. We don’t have to go to the bar if you don’t want to. But we could go somewhere else, just the two of us? Have a nice cocktail and catch up?’ Tricia played with the bracelets around her wrists. ‘I’ve been meaning to ask you about something …’
‘I really don’t have time. Aaron will be waiting for me.’
‘Please, Liv – it won’t take long.’
‘Sorry.’
But she barred the door with her hands. ‘Look, I’m worried about you. I think you need to speak to someone.’
‘I fail one exam and you think I’ve lost it? Thanks for the vote of confidence.’
‘If it was just about one exam, I wouldn’t be saying this. You know it. You have to get some help before it’s too late. I’ve been reading about burnout and exhaustion. You’ve taken on so much recently. Side projects for Pierre Lavaud, helping out Aaron, and I saw the latest bill come in for your mum. I think you need to slow down …’
‘You’ve been looking at my post?’