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Everyone grins.
‘Come on,’ Tommo tells her. ‘Let’s find you some more hobbits.’ He mouths an apology and guides Bee out.
‘Well,’ Lucy says, once they’ve gone. ‘That was awkward.’
‘Nah. Everyone’s just enjoying themselves.’
Nick goes to the door. He shuts and locks it. The darkness resettles. But it’s thicker, now, more claustrophobic. Back at the desk, he forms the coke into two fat lines andsnorts one with a rolled-up twenty. Then he offers Lucy the note.
She rolls her eyes. ‘I don’t think so, party boy.’
Nick moves to the right, placing himself between her and the door. ‘Go on,’ he tells her. ‘Just a cheeky one. Promise I won’t tell.’
This close, she can smell him. Not barbecue smoke and pig’s blood, like Daniel, but an aftershave almost as unpleasant. She wonders if his arrival in the study was entirely coincidental.
Lucy’s tempted to step around him, but there’s no guarantee he won’t block her again.Arsehole, she thinks. And feels the darkness press closer. She just wants to get out of here, now; wants to get back to Billie and Daniel and the party. But she knows how petty and vindictive Nick can be; a confrontation just isn’t worth it. ‘Hold my drink,’ she says, snatching up the twenty.
‘That’s my girl.’
Lucy bends over the desk. It’s a far bigger line than she realized. Holding one nostril closed, she snorts half of it. Years since she did anything like this. The buzz hits almost immediately.
She blinks, shakes her head. ‘What am I doing, Nick?’
‘Having fun. Go on – finish it up.’
This time, when she bends over, he slides his hand up the inside of her dress. His fingers almost reach her underwear before she manages to jerk away. A glazed pot, made by Fin for Daniel, scoots across the desk. It hits the floor and shatters.
‘What thefuck, Nick?’ Lucy hisses. ‘What wasthat?’
‘Ah, shit. Shit, Luce, I’m sorry. I just …’
They stare at each other in the darkness. Lucy feels herheart pounding. She can’t figure out if it’s the coke or something else. She feels dirty, outraged; overwhelmed with guilt. Billie’s eighteenth and here she is, locked in the study with the lights off, snorting coke with her husband’s lecherous friend. Did she do anything to encourage him? To suggest she might welcome it? Why the hell didn’t she leave when Bee and Tommo showed up?
‘Please,’ Nick says. ‘Let’s pretend this never happened. I don’t know what I was thinking. I don’t know what I’d do if Daniel found out.’
The emotion in his voice is so raw that Lucy decides, right there, to respect his wish. Arsehole he may be, but his lifelong friendship with Daniel is more important than a single error of judgement.
On impulse, she bends back to the desk and snorts up the remaining coke. Best that no evidence remains of this sordid little encounter. Pinching her nostrils, she hands Nick back his twenty. The drug hits her system before she reaches the study door. She’s energized, now, jittery as fuck. Her fingers fumble for the key.
Lucy steps into the hall just as Daniel emerges from the kitchen. The frown he’s wearing deepens when he sees her. His gaze flickers to the darkened study. Lucy’s heart beats faster. Her cocaine rush blossoms into panic.
‘Have you seen Nick?’ Daniel asks.
Lucy runs her tongue across her teeth. She knows Nick’s still in the study, knows Daniel must have heard the door unlocking. Her skin feels far too hot. The colours in the hall seem far too bright.
And then Billie appears, racing out of the living room. ‘Mum, it’s about to start!’ she shouts. She takes Lucy’s hand and pulls her along the hall.
Outside, the view from Mortis Point is of a world made ethereal by night. Even though Lucy’s stood here a thousand times before, the sight robs her of breath. Overhead, the moon appears close enough to touch. Its light daubs the sea with a procession of milk smiles.
Bee and Tommo stand nearby, sharing a cigarette. More guests spill from the house, many carrying blankets. Billie snags one and drapes it around them. Noemie appears, followed by Ed, who wraps his arms around Billie.
‘Look,’ someone says, lifting a finger to the sky. ‘It’shappening.’
Across the lawn, two hundred faces tilt heavenward. Sure enough, a crescent-shaped slice of the full moon has turned pink. As Lucy watches, that blush of colour begins to spread. It looks like blood filling a cheek, or poison starting to discolour flesh. There’s a murmur of appreciation from her guests.
Cocaine fizzes in Lucy’s arteries. How strange, she thinks, to be riding on a planet interposing itself between sun and moon. Within a few minutes, all three bodies are aligned. The moon turns red; and with it, her stomach drains of blood.
Up there, the mountains and craters of the lunar surface look like they’ve mutated, the familiar shadows transformed. Down in Skentel, a dog starts barking. Two others join it. An owl hoots from one of the stone pines.