Page 42 of Someone in the Water

Frankie

A siren explodes in my head. I jerk awake, ride a wave of nausea. I flail out with one arm, find my phone, switch off the alarm.

Lola.

But thinking of my daughter brings in a host of horrible images too – a bleeding eagle owl, the goading note, our argument, her disappearing into the restaurant with Patrick.

I push up to sitting. It’s hot in here – I didn’t think to put the air conditioning on when I crawled into bed – and my skin is damp. I push clumps of sticky hair away from my face.

When I got back to my bedroom, I was consumed with the shock of seeing my mazzeri painting in the hotel shop. I recognised how loose my grip on reality was, and knew I needed to knock myself out. So I took too many sleeping pills and descended into a black hole.

But now I’m awake, I need to check Lola’s safe.

A knock on my bedroom door makes me jump. ‘Hello?’

‘Mum?’

I scramble out of bed and pull open the door. The sight of my daughter makes me feel instantly better. I want to reach for her, but I know she’ll sense my desperation, so I take a step backwards instead. ‘Come in, come see my room.’

‘Were you asleep?’ Lola asks suspiciously. ‘Are you sick?’

‘No, I mean, yes, I had a lie-down, but I’m fine. Anyway, what about you?’ I ask, wiping my sweaty forehead. ‘Are you having a good day?’

Lola nods and walks further inside. ‘I love your cute little balcony. Is there a minibar? Can we sit out there and have a drink?’

I follow her outside. My room is at the front of the hotel, so there are no sea views, but the garden is in full bloom and it’s more peaceful on this side. I rattle the railing to check it’s sturdy. ‘I’d love that. What would you like?’

Lola smiles. ‘A Coke would be great, thanks.’

I take two cans out of the small fridge, then sink into the free chair opposite Lola. I try to stop my arm from shaking as I hand over the drink. ‘So what have you done this morning?’ I ask.

‘I went into town with Patrick.’

‘Oh?’ I take a sip. The drink is cold and fizzy, and I like how it pirouettes into my stomach.

‘He had to pick a letter up from his solicitor’s. We were supposed to go for a drink after, but in the end, we came straight back because he wasn’t feeling great.’

‘Oh, that’s a shame,’ I lie.

‘No, I didn’t mind. It gave me time to think actually.

’ Lola leans forward in her chair. ‘And what I thought was that I really need you to stop blaming yourself for Izzy’s death.

For your sake, and for mine. This holiday didn’t start how I intended at all, but now we’re here …

well, the sun’s shining, the sea’s inviting, and I think we should make the best of it.

Because it’s important for mothers and daughters to spend quality time together, don’t you think?

I mean we never know how long we’ve got, do we? ’

‘We’ve got ages,’ I blurt out. ‘I’m thirty-nine and you’re seventeen. What’s with the doom slaying?’ I try to control my breathing.

‘I’m not,’ Lola says, offended now. ‘It’s just a turn of phrase. And I think you’re missing the point.’

I take a long, silent breath. The mazzeri legend is bullshit. Lola is not going to die. And the note is just a piece of paper. ‘I’m sorry, and you’re right about quality time. But what you’re asking for, staying here, it’s not that simple.’

Lola leans her elbows on the glass table and knits her fingers. ‘Mum, did you ever wonder if it could have been Raphael in the water that night?’

‘Raphael? Why would you say that?’

‘Patrick told me that he and Anna fought about Izzy the night before she died. And badly enough that Patrick ran away from home. You were there, so you know this.’

‘I do, but …’

‘And Raphael has contacts in the police,’ Lola goes on. ‘And his uncle was in the mafia apparently, so it’s in his blood. And I heard he found her, so he was clearly close by.’

‘What? No.’ I shake my head, but my mind starts whirring.

It’s true that Patrick said Raphael and Anna were arguing about Izzy, but he was only five, so could easily have been mistaken.

It does seem that Raphael has police connections, but so will most Corsican business owners.

And Raphael lived near the beach, so him being close by isn’t that suspicious.

Maybe his uncle was in the mafia, but that doesn’t make Raphael a killer.

If it points the finger at anyone, it would be Salvo because Izzy always suspected that he was involved in something illegal – but of course he didn’t write that note.

‘No, that’s crazy,’ I say, finding my voice at last. ‘We’ve been over this, Lola. I killed Izzy. Not on purpose, but I made a mistake, got scared when I shouldn’t have, and left her in trouble.’

Lola leans back in her chair. ‘What about Dom then?’ she says, ignoring my explanation. ‘He made it clear last night that he didn’t like her.’

‘That doesn’t make him a killer.’

Lola goes quiet for a moment, and I can tell that she’s thinking. ‘You said that you and Izzy were pretty drunk when you went swimming,’ she finally says. ‘Why was that? What had you been doing?’

I turn to look towards the garden. ‘We were holding a kind of wake, for Archie,’ I say quietly. ‘It was our way of saying goodbye.’

‘By getting drunk and going skinny-dipping?’

I close my eyes, a futile attempt to shield myself from how disrespectful that sounds. ‘We were young and thoughtless. Izzy suggested a midnight swim, and it seemed like a good idea at the time.’

‘Did everyone go in the sea?’

I shake my head. ‘Harriet didn’t want to get her hair wet. And Jack. Well, I guess he was hurting too much.’

‘Or maybe he thought it was out of line,’ Lola points out.

I look away. With hindsight, yes, it was an insensitive thing to do. But Jack has no right to take the moral high ground. ‘I’m not proud of any of it,’ I murmur.

‘No, I didn’t mean that. Jack must have been half-crazy with grief that night. Maybe he wanted to punish you and Izzy for being disrespectful?’

Jack tried to kill his family, Frankie.

Archie’s words, just hours before he died.

I tap my can of Coke. It’s true that Jack was ruthless.

I can’t believe he’d attack us for the reason Lola suggests, but what if my outburst at Henri’s bar made him decide that I was a threat to his freedom?

I tried to backtrack, to apologise, but maybe it was too late.

With Archie gone, Izzy and I were the two people who knew the truth about him.

Is there a chance that he tried to get rid of us both?

And if it was him, does that mean the note is a genuine threat?

Either way, the last thing I need is Lola putting herself in danger by digging for the truth.

‘Lola, you can’t go around blaming other people because you want me to be innocent.’

‘But why are you so determined not to?’ Lola snaps back. ‘Why can’t you at least consider the possibility that your instincts were right about there being someone else in the water?’

I take another gulp of Coke, feel a stab of pain as a bubble lodges in my chest. God, I just want to get her back to Lymington, away from this danger that I can’t quite articulate. ‘Have you heard from the British consulate yet?’ I ask.

‘Sorry?’

‘I guess they’ll email you with an update when your travel documents are completed?’

Lola shakes her head and slams her can down. ‘That’s your response? Ignoring my question and changing the subject? For fuck’s sake, Mum! Why are you being so stubborn?’

‘I just want to take you home,’ I whisper.

‘I don’t want to go home! I want to go to Sartène on Thursday, and spend my birthday here so I can actually celebrate, with you! And I want to compete in that windsurf race on Saturday. I only have you, Mum. Dad is half a world away; I have no siblings. And you’re treating me like I don’t matter.’

‘Of course you matter!’ I call out. ‘More than anything in the world.’

‘Look, you leaving me every birthday, keeping secrets from me. These are the things that are your fault, Mum,’ she says, the words harsh, but her voice softening.

‘But you’re still fixated on the one thing that isn’t.

Whether it was an accident, or someone else’s doing, it happened over two decades ago, to a girl you knew for less than three months.

It’s Izzy’s mother who should be grieving for eternity, not you.

You’re my mother.’ Lola pushes her fist against her chest. ‘You’re supposed to put me first.’

Tears come. I think I am putting Lola first, but I have I got it all wrong? ‘I’m so sorry,’ I whisper.

Lola sighs. ‘I don’t want your apologies, Mum. I want you to look me in the eye and tell me that you can move on from Izzy’s death.’

I wipe my cheeks. I try to hold Lola’s gaze, but I can’t manage it, so I drop my eyeline and stare at my hands. ‘I don’t know how,’ I admit sorrowfully.

A chair scraping on the tiles makes me look up. ‘Lola?’

‘I’m going on the water,’ she snaps. Then she strides through my bedroom, whips the door open, and slams it shut behind her.