Danny and Alyssia had been right – there was no waiting brigade of police or border patrol or anyone else trying to stop Alyssia and Curtis from leaving America, nor did the checks of their passports at the Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris lead to any questions or problems or – as far as they were aware – set off any alerts. They’d made a decision to take the first available direct flight to Europe – a red-eye to France, rather than to England. And given train strikes affecting the Eurostar train service, they still had a drive ahead – and the Eurotunnel – before they reached their final destination of London. By late afternoon, Calais not far away, both of them were suffering from exhaustion.
‘Whoa, Alyssia!’
She jerked on the steering wheel, suddenly alert as her eyes sprang open. The car attempting to overtake them swerved and slammed on the brakes, falling behind as Alyssia straightened up on the road.
‘Shit,’ she said, eyes as wide as possible now, hands at ten and two on the wheel.
After a few seconds the Mercedes behind them sped up again and raced past, headlights flashing, horn blaring and the driver angrily gesticulating.
‘Time for a break, do you think?’ Curtis said.
She’d earlier insisted they carry on straight through until they reached London. But they wouldn’t reach the English capital until well into the night now, so what would they even do when they arrived? After the day – and night – they’d had, Curtis really wanted to rest now.
‘Yeah,’ Alyssia conceded. ‘Probably best.’
They didn’t bother to look for anything particularly nice, stopping about twenty miles from the Eurotunnel terminal at a basic motel that looked like little more than an oversized concrete block with a few small cutouts for windows.
‘I thought Europe was supposed to be quaint and pretty,’ Curtis said.
‘It is,’ Alyssia said, before Curtis headed off to the reception.
He paid in cash and returned to Alyssia at the car with their keys.
‘Two single rooms,’ he said to her. ‘Adjacent.’
She shrugged and checked her watch. ‘It’s barely going dark. We could have just carried on.’
‘You want to rock up in London, navigate the traffic there at night after nearly twenty-four hours of travel, looking for a hotel?’
Actually, she looked like she did.
‘It wouldn’t even make much difference. We wouldn’t get anything done there tonight anyway. We get some sleep and an early start, we’ll still be there sometime in the morning.’
She still didn’t look convinced.
‘I asked the receptionist and apparently there’s a big supermarket a mile or so away. We could go out and get any supplies we need. Toiletries.’
‘You speak French?’ she asked, looking a little more impressed with him.
He shrugged. ‘Barely. Only what I learned in school, so probably not as well as you.’
She smiled. ‘Is the restaurant open?’ she asked, indicating the flickering neon sign by the entrance door.
‘“Restaurant” is a kind way of describing it. But there’s food. And drink.’
‘Which is what I need. So, let’s do that.’
So they did.
The small space in the corner of the ground floor looked like an afterthought. A few tables plonked together, with little by way of decoration. Basic tables and chairs, no place settings. No wonder it was empty except for them and one other lone traveler – although despite the restaurant’s appearance, there really was nothing wrong with the food.
‘How’s the steak?’ Alyssia asked.
‘It’s the first thing I’ve eaten since breakfast which was… yesterday, I think. So it’s hard to be objective, but it’s pretty damn good.’
‘Same,’ Alyssia said, before swigging her red wine. Their second carafe. Only eight euros for half a liter, so why not?
‘You think they have a whole barrel of this stuff out back?’ he asked.
‘Wouldn’t surprise me. Shall we keep drinking and find out?’
Curtis smiled and poured them both another glass, but in the silence that followed he sensed the mood drop a little.
‘That guy Rachel is with…’
‘Russ.’
‘Is he your friend?’
‘He used to be my best friend. When we were younger. In our late twenties.’
‘So, you’ve known him a long time.’
‘Yeah.’
‘Since before you met Rachel.’
‘I’ve known Rachel for coming up to six years. We married four years ago.’
‘Oh.’
He held her eye a moment.
‘Ask me if you want to,’ he said.
She squirmed a little. ‘I sensed… you weren’t impressed she went to him.’
‘Not really. But at least I know she’s safe.’ And Danny, having self-treated his gunshot wound – which apparently was minor, for him – remained camped outside the house. Although surely at some point he’d need to sleep. Would he know if something happened in the middle of the night, or would he sleep right through it?
Best not to think about that.
‘You were pretty quick to suggest she go up to Vermont,’ Alyssia said.
‘It was a hectic moment. I had to make a quick decision.’
‘But your decision was to send her away. Carry on your search for Finn without her. Carry on the search with me.’
‘What are you trying to say?’ he asked, his tone not hiding his growing irritation.
She shrugged. ‘I’m trying to understand you. I think this is a new situation for both of us. Traveling across countries, evading bad guys and dodgy police. I’m just… I feel like we’re on the same wavelength. But I know why I’m doing this. I’m just not so sure I understand why you are.’
‘I’m looking for my brother.’
‘Who you haven’t seen or spoken to for six years.’
‘And?’
‘And for me, I’ve been in touch with Mariana my whole life. We’ve been close, always, even if she’s lived thousands of miles away. She’s always told me everything. That’s why I’m here – because I’m really worried about her. I know… I just hope I can find her. That she’s still safe.’
The way she said that last part, Curtis could tell that her hope was fading.
‘Finn wouldn’t have hurt her,’ Curtis said.
Alyssia’s face scrunched up in anger. ‘How would you know?’
‘Because he isn’t like that.’
‘Anyone can snap, given the right pressure.’
‘So that’s what you think? That they were fighting, Finn snapped and hurt her, maybe even killed her?’ He wondered if Alyssia knew about Finn’s past – the fights, the stay in juvenile detention…
Alyssia gulped at her wine.
‘If the answer’s really that simple then what do you think about everything else you can see happening?’ he asked. ‘Victor Travers. Elliott Charlton. The attack in D.C. The people following me. Us. How does that fit your theory?’
‘It can still all be connected,’ she said. ‘Maybe that’s why they were fighting – because she wasn’t happy with what your brother was doing.’
‘You think that’s the explanation? That Finn and Travers and Charlton were in cahoots over something illegal?’
‘It fits with everything I’ve seen so far. And it explains why Mariana was so edgy with me recently, right before she went missing.’
‘But she didn’t tell you why she was edgy?’
‘No.’
‘You said she always told you everything.’
Alyssia tutted and poured some more wine, then ordered another carafe from the bored-looking waiter.
‘I’m going to be honest with you, Curtis. I hope in turn you’ll do the same.’
‘I already have been.’
‘We’ll see. But what I’m trying to say is… Mariana’s relationship with Victor was complicated.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘Let’s just say Mariana had a way of getting what she wanted in life. Using all her assets and talents.’
‘She slept with Victor?’
‘Like I said, their relationship was complicated.’
‘Did Finn know that?’
‘I don’t know what Finn knew. But I do know that Mariana fell in love with your brother. Probably the first time she ever really had.’
Curtis nodded, but he really didn’t know what to think about what he was hearing. Mostly it just made him feel a little inadequate, because this woman knew far more about Finn’s life than he did.
‘But that was the problem,’ Alyssia said. ‘Mariana was in love. I think she felt guilt because of it. Horrible guilt that she hadn’t told Finn everything, but then…’
She shook her head and humphed as though chastising herself.
‘What?’ Curtis asked.
‘Things changed. I sensed it in her. She wasn’t happy. Something happened between her and Finn. Or her and Finn and Victor.’
‘But she never told you?’
‘No, she didn’t. And yeah, I get it. I told you a few minutes ago she always told me everything. But don’t you understand? That’s the problem. Because this time she didn’t. Then she went missing. That’s why I’m so worried.’
They held each other’s eye for a moment as Curtis dwelled on her heartfelt words. He sensed her dismay. For the first time since meeting her he saw a real vulnerability rather than a bullish confidence. Although perhaps the change in perspective was also because when he’d first met her she’d had Danny Golder by her side, and now she was on her own.
The waiter came over with the wine and took away their plates. He offered them dessert but they both declined. Curtis poured more wine. He was definitely feeling the effects of the alcohol, but he saw no reason to stop drinking now. If anything, the cloudiness in his mind was exactly what he wanted to take him away from his troubles.
The easy way out. The one he so often took.
‘You see, that’s why I’m still not sure about you,’ Alyssia said.
‘Excuse me?’
‘Why are you here, Curtis?’
He didn’t answer. His mind was too busy trying to make sense of it all.
‘If you hadn’t seen your brother in the news, would you even have cared to look for him right now?’
It didn’t take him long to think about that one. ‘Probably not.’
‘Thought so.’
‘The only explanation I can find is that… You said before that anyone can snap, with the right pressure. Perhaps… this, seeing my brother again, was the pressure for me. The—’
‘Straw that broke the camel’s back?’
‘As the saying goes.’
‘But what pressure? You and Rachel, you mean?’
‘Life. All of it. Work, relationships, money. When I was younger, I had this vision of myself in the future, like most people do. Good job, nice home, wife, kids.’
‘So you’re missing the kids part, but—’
‘No. I’m missing more than that. In here.’ He tapped his head.
She nodded as though she understood.
‘Do you know about my parents?’ he asked.
‘No.’
‘That was a turning point for me. They both died way too young, in their fifties, and quite close to each other. But… I was the one there for them. Not Finn. And I had no one to back me up during that time, and no one to help me pick up the pieces of my life afterwards.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘But then I met Rachel. And I really thought I’d found what I needed to move on. That the vision of my future self from all those years ago could still become a reality.’
‘I heard what you said to her before. About Vermont. Where she was pregnant?’
He gripped his wine glass a little more firmly as he reminisced. The best of times. Followed shortly by the worst of times.
‘She lost the baby?’
Curtis nodded, trying to contain his feelings. Trying not to feel.
‘She couldn’t get pregnant again?’
‘No,’ Curtis said. ‘And believe me, we tried. But there’s one big problem.’
Two big mouthfuls of wine for him. They’d need a new carafe soon.
‘And that is?’ Alyssia asked.
‘Me. I can’t have kids. In fact, I’ve never been able to.’ He took another mouthful of wine, well aware that the alcohol was enabling him to be this open with someone he hardly knew, but… Actually, it felt kind of good to do it. A release.
‘But… Oh.’ She shrank a little in her chair, as though embarrassed at her realization.
‘We didn’t know that then. When she was pregnant.’
‘That must have been…’
She too chose to drink some wine rather than finish whatever she’d thought about saying.
‘I never asked her about it,’ Curtis said. ‘And she never told me. I just told her to promise me it wouldn’t happen again. To promise me that she wanted to be with me, even if we could never have kids of our own.’
‘And she agreed?’
‘She did.’
‘But it’s never been the same between you since.’
‘Even if I really wanted it to be.’
‘And now you’re thinking… it was Russ?’
‘Then? I really don’t know. I never thought so before.’
‘Now, though?’
‘Now, I don’t what to think about it. And I’m almost too afraid to ask.’
‘So instead of working through your marital problems you’ve decided to walk away from your wife and your job to go on a globe-trotting adventure with me?’
‘I can think of worse company.’
She laughed. ‘I’m flattered.’
‘To our globe-trotting adventure,’ Curtis said, chinking his glass against hers. They both finished off their drinks.
‘Another carafe?’ Alyssia asked.
‘Damn right.’
* * *
More than one other, as it turned out. By the time they made their way to their rooms at a little after 10 p.m., Curtis was swaying from side to side. His head swam, his belly grumbled, but he felt… strangely content.
Alyssia stumbled and Curtis reached out and caught her midair before she fell to her knees. She held on to him and for a few seconds they kind of just paused there, half crouched, arm-in-arm in the car park.
Before Alyssia burst out laughing.
‘You should see the look on your face,’ she said.
‘What?’ Was she mocking him?
‘I know that look,’ she said.
‘I just saved your ass!’ he said, pulling her up straight.
‘Very noble of you.’
Eye contact. A few seconds longer than would have been comfortable if they were sober.
She broke first.
They staggered the rest of the way to their rooms in silence, though Alyssia kept glancing at him, a self-satisfied smile on her face. They reached their doors. She opened up first.
‘I enjoyed that,’ she said to him.
‘Maybe you won’t in the morning.’
They both paused, held each other’s eye again.
‘Thanks for opening up to me,’ she said to him. ‘It means a lot. Helps me trust you that bit more.’
He smiled and nodded but didn’t really know what to say. ‘I… You’re easy to talk to.’
‘You know what I think?’ she said.
‘Tell me.’
‘You’re a good man, Curtis. You deserve to be happy.’
She let go of the door and kissed him on the cheek. When she pulled back they made eye contact again and he really wished he knew what she was thinking.
He put whatever was left of his better judgment aside and was about to reach forward to kiss her – on the lips – but before he did she turned away.
Moments later she was inside her room, door closed behind her.