Page 49 of The Lost Story of Sofia Castello

48

PORTUGAL, 2000

‘But why?’ I blurt out as Sofia stops talking and closes her eyes.

She opens her eyes and frowns at me. ‘Why what?’

‘Why is it a curse?’ I know by now that I shouldn’t push her, but I can’t help it. ‘It’s meant so much to so many people,’ I continue, wanting to lift her spirits whilst simultaneously trying to work out what she might have meant. I suppose if things didn’t end well with Trafalgar, it might make the song somewhat painful to her, but still, a curse?

‘Yes well, it hasn’t to me,’ she snaps, and it’s as if a cloud has passed across the sun, her dramatic change in mood bringing a sudden chill to the room.

‘It did to me,’ I say defiantly.

She gives a derisory snort. ‘When you were crying over a man who wasn’t worthy of your time in the first place?’

There’s a sharpness to her tone that reminds me a little of how Robin used to get when he was determined to win an argument, and it sets me on edge. ‘You don’t have the monopoly on pain, you know,’ I snap.

She stares at me, then goes to pour herself another glass of wine, but she’s finished the bottle. ‘I might not have the monopoly on pain,’ she says, placing the empty bottle down, ‘but I feel certain that what I’ve been through in my life is worse than you being dumped by that idiot. You said yourself that your relationship was over a long time ago. So by leaving you he actually did you a favour, which you’ll realise one day, whereas…’ She falls silent and downs the last of her wine.

A former version of me – the version who put up with Robin’s patronising put-downs – feels close to tears. But then another part of me kicks in and what feels like a lifetime’s unexpressed rage comes roaring to the surface.

‘Actually, when I listened to “Ocean Longing” I wasn’t longing for my ex; I was longing for the child I wasn’t able to have – that I’ll never be able to have.’

I see a flash of red out of the corner of my eye, and the ghost of my dream daughter comes running into the room and scrambles up onto the sofa beside me, sucking her thumb and gazing up at me. Tears begin forming in my eyes, but I’m determined not to let Sofia see them.

‘You might think that I’m pathetic for letting that get to me, but I’m not. I’m human. And I know you’re keeping something from me too,’ I add for good measure. ‘So, if you want to continue with me as your ghostwriter, I need you to be honest with me. Totally honest.’

I stand up, knocking my notebook onto the floor, but I don’t bother picking it up. ‘I’m going to go for a walk to give you a chance to think about it, but if you’re not prepared to be straight with me, then I’m going to leave.’ I’ve played my trump card and it may well backfire, but I’m so angry and upset I don’t actually care.

I march into the kitchen and fling open the back door. Gabriel is standing there holding a bucket of fish, his hand mid-air as if he was about to knock.

‘Oh great!’ I mutter.

He instantly looks concerned. ‘Lily? What’s wrong?’

‘Ask Sofia. Maybe you could write another note about me while you do it.’

I know I sound childish, but I get some satisfaction from seeing the look of shock and embarrassment on his face. I march down through the garden and onto the beach.