Katie held the torn pages of the journal between trembling fingers. When she finished reading, she looked up.
Ed had anchored himself to the cherry-wood dressing table, spreading his palms flat against its polished surface. His head hung down and in the mirror above him she could see the patch at his crown where his hair was beginning to thin. He was conscious of it and used his fingers to ruffle the spot each morning when he woke, a gesture that Katie had found endearing, pleased by the vulnerable chink in his armour of confidence.
‘You slept with my sister?’
Ed turned. His face had paled and his lips looked dark in contrast. ‘I am so sorry.’ He ran a hand across his jaw. ‘It was a huge mistake.’
‘How was it?’ She was a poker player with nothing left to lose.
‘What? I …’ he floundered.
In six torn pages, Mia’s entry had excavated a buried piece of Ed’s history, one that threw into question all Katie had thought she knew. She had read that in a bar in Camden, her fiancé and her sister had had sex in a blackened corridor, knocking a painting off the wall that had cracked, sending a shard of glass splintering into Mia’s ankle.
‘It was a mistake. And you must understand that we were both terribly drunk.’
‘You didn’t tell me.’
‘No,’ he replied. ‘I didn’t. I regretted what happened so vehemently that I never told anyone. I didn’t want to hurt you, Katie.’
‘Yet you turned up at the bar where my sister worked, bought her drink after drink, and then had sex with her in a corridor.’
‘What you read,’ Ed said, ‘is her version.’
‘Then I’d better hear yours.’ She folded her arms to hide the trembling in her hands.
He took a deep breath. ‘Do you remember on Freddie’s birthday I told you I was meeting the boys straight from work? We started drinking on the Embankment and then ended up – God knows how – in a cellar bar in Camden. I had no idea it was where Mia worked; she had so many jobs I could never keep up.’ He waved his fingers through the air in his gesture for Mia: flighty, restless. ‘I only noticed her because she was wearing a dress of yours. I quite literally did a double take.’
She was careful not to let her face fall into an expression that she wasn’t ready to give away. She continued listening, saying nothing.
‘When Mia finished her shift, I invited her to have a drink with us. It must sound ludicrous now, but I specifically recall thinking, Katie will be pleased when I tell her. I knew it bothered you that we hadn’t hit it off.’
He was right. Ed and Mia were from different worlds and she’d felt as though her arms could never quite stretch wide enough to reach them both. Whenever Ed talked about business, Mia would catch Katie’s eye and begin an elaborate mime of nodding off, her head jerking her awake often enough to smile encouragingly at Ed. He’d caught her mid-performance once, and said, ‘Shall I make my conversation more inclusive next time by talking about barmaiding and student debt?’ Mia had flicked him the finger and sauntered out.
Ed continued. ‘By the time she joined us, the boys and I were steaming. She was determined to catch up and Freddie, as you can imagine, was encouraging her. We all drank far too much. When the bar closed, I offered to put Mia in a cab because I knew how much it worried you when she insisted on walking everywhere. I can’t say with much clarity what happened after that, but before we reached the cab we somehow ended up …’ He cleared his throat. ‘It was ridiculous, utterly without forethought or conviction. And I am deeply ashamed of myself.’
At a business seminar, Katie had once learnt about the power of the pause. She let silence fall around Ed’s explanation and watched as he shifted, uncrossing his legs, straightening, and then shoving both hands in his pockets.
‘It’s interesting,’ she began, ‘because Mia’s journal entry was a little different. In your hurry to tear it out, I imagine you didn’t have a chance to read it all, so I’ll refresh you with a few details.’
Colour rose on Ed’s neck and spread up into his lower cheeks.
‘She noted that you were flirtatious from the moment she joined you, and insisted on buying her drink after drink. When you left to put her in a taxi,’ she flicked through the loose pages to find the extract she was looking for, ‘Mia wrote, Ed put his hand on my lower back and whispered, “You look so sexy in that dress. But what I want to know is: What are you wearing beneath it?” I shrugged and said, “Take a look.” So he did.’
She stopped reading and looked at Ed. He had clasped both hands behind his neck so his elbows angled into the room.
‘I have to say, that is a really wonderful image for me. Such a keepsake.’
‘What matters are the facts: I betrayed your trust. Being drunk is no excuse. It happened and I am going to do everything in my power to make this right.’
She looked down at her hands, which still held the limp, torn pages. She could feel her poker face beginning to slip. He was her fiancé. She loved him. He was all she had left now that Mia and her mother were gone. Tears slid down her cheeks.
‘Darling,’ Ed said, moving towards her. ‘Please, don’t cry.’
Out in the corridor she could hear footsteps and the roll of a suitcase on wheels, then a key turning in a lock: she wished she were that guest, slipping into a different room, a different life.
He sat beside her, his weight lowering her fractionally on the bed so her body tilted towards him. He was careful not to touch her, but in a low voice, said, ‘I love you more than anything. We’ve had so many wonderful times together, and I am not prepared to throw away our future over one dreadful mistake. My whole family adores you. If I screw this up I am fairly certain they will disown me. You know how much I love you – I’ve flown across the world to be with you – so I am asking you, Katie, to forgive me.’
Tears ran down her cheeks. Could she forgive him? It was such a lot to ask of anyone. He was right to say that they’d shared many wonderful times, but a relationship wasn’t a score chart of good experiences versus bad. It was about trust and honesty. But perhaps it was also about forgiveness and understanding.
‘I’ll get you some tissues,’ Ed said.
Watching him move into the en suite, she was jolted by an image of Mia lying on the black-and-white-tiled floor of their bathroom in London, like an unseated pawn on a chess board. She had been wearing a jade dress – Katie’s dress – that was twisted at her waist. When Mia had lifted her head and seen Katie standing in the doorway, she’d looked away, unable to meet her eye. That had been the night.
Ed returned with a box of tissues. ‘The night you slept with Mia,’ she said, her voice deadly calm, ‘she passed out on our bathroom floor. I found her the next morning.’
Ed didn’t move.
‘How drunk must she have been?’
‘We were both drunk.’
She glanced out of the window. She didn’t marvel at the view of the lake bathed in the late-afternoon sun or the pristine vineyards stretching beyond; she was remembering something else from that day. Katie had been making risotto in the kitchen when Mia had come in wearing her jogging gear. She remembered asking how Mia’s head was and whether she needed a plaster for the cut on her ankle. That’s when Mia had announced she was going travelling.
She turned back to Ed. ‘After screwing you, Mia booked a round-the-world ticket to get the fuck away!’
He didn’t baulk at her language; perhaps he’d grown used to this new Katie, the one who flicked from tears to anger as quick as a switch.
‘When I found out she was going travelling, I came round to see you.’ She’d left a pan of burnt onions cooling on the side and the smell had lingered in the flat for days. ‘I was upset that she was leaving me, and do you remember what you said? “A change of scenery will be good for her.” I thought you were being understanding – but the truth was, you were pleased she was going.’
‘Katie—’
She had found her stride and wouldn’t be deterred. ‘If it hadn’t been for you,’ she said, her voice growing louder, ‘she’d have never left like that. I knew there must be a reason. I even tried talking to you about it after her funeral, but you told me Mia was just impulsive, young, bored.’ Her anger burnt in her throat and made her jaw tight. ‘If you hadn’t screwed her, she’d never have gone travelling. Never have ended up in Bali. Never have been on that cliff top. It was your fault, Ed. Yours!’
‘Come on! I didn’t make her have sex with me. Just like I didn’t make her go travelling, and I didn’t make her throw herself from a cliff.’
Her eyes widened. ‘What did you say?’
‘I said what the police, coroner and witnesses all believe. That’s good enough for me.’
‘I’m her sister! What about what I believe? I knew her better than anyone!’
‘You didn’t even know she was in Bali.’
The remark smacked her like a punch.
‘Christ, don’t you see how unhealthy this obsession of yours has become? You’ve run off to the other side of the world, clinging to that journal like it’s some kind of lifeline. Mia is dead. She committed suicide. I am genuinely sorry about that, I really am, but you need to accept the facts.’
She reached for the nearest thing she could find: his laptop.
‘What on earth are you doing?’
She lifted it above her head.
‘Good God, Katie! You need to calm down.’
She felt the weight of it in her fingers and wrists.
‘That’s got all my contacts in it. It’s very important to me.’
She glanced at the ripped cream pages discarded on the bed. ‘Just like my sister’s journal is important to me.’ She remembered Ed’s look of surprise when he found out Mia kept a journal. The next morning she’d discovered him leafing through it, Checking there is nothing to upset you, he’d told her. ‘This whole time you’ve been lying to me, trying to cover your tracks—’
‘I was protecting you.’
‘Protecting me?’ Katie realised how desperate Ed must have been to get his hands on the journal to check Mia hadn’t implicated him. But Katie had been careful not to let it out of her sight. Until today. ‘You manipulated me into going for a walk so you could take my bags up to the room—’
‘I mean it, Katie! Put it down before you do something you regret.’
Perhaps it was his tone or the implication that she wasn’t in control that spurred her on, but she found her arms drawing back. Then with all her strength she launched the laptop across the room.
She heard Ed’s sharp intake of breath and then a loud, satisfying crunch as it hit the wall. Glass and silver plastic shards rained down on the carpet, the screen splitting from the keyboard. An angular dent was left behind in the paintwork.
‘Jesus Christ!’
Calmly, she picked up the journal and hooked on her backpack.
Ed was staring at her. ‘You are not the woman I fell in love with.’
She caught sight of herself in the mirror. Her hair was loose around her face and her make-up had worn off with the day. Her eyes danced with anger. The faded backpack with its fraying straps and promise of adventure no longer looked so incongruous on her back.
‘You’re right, Ed. I’m not.’
*
She followed signs to the tourist information office. There she found herself standing before a volunteer who circled a hostel on a map with an orange highlighter and said, ‘It’ll take you fifteen minutes on foot.’
Katie strode there in ten. She was shown to a dorm where three young women were getting changed. Hiking boots and sweat-hardened socks were discarded on the floor, and the room was thick with the smell of deodorant. Desperate not to pause, not to think, she struck up conversation and discovered that the girls, two from New Zealand, the third from Quebec, were on a ten-day outdoor experience and had just hiked a section of the cape-to-cape trail. They told her about the wide ocean bluffs and the crickets that sprang like firecrackers from the undergrowth, bouncing off their shins.
Half an hour later she found herself joining them in a bar that served pizzas the size of hubcaps. The hikers ate ravenously but Katie’s stomach was too knotted for food, so she drank wine and felt the liquid working through her like sunshine. In the next bar they ordered more drinks and played poker and Katie was declared a natural when she beat them following their own tricks.
Now they were in a packed bar where they had to shout to be heard over the rock band playing on a makeshift stage. They’d managed to shoehorn themselves around a table stained by ring marks. She set down her empty glass; her head felt light as if only distantly attached to her body.
‘I checked,’ Jenny, one of the hikers, who had muscular thighs and a wicked smile, was saying.
‘No way he’s single,’ the girl from Quebec countered, leaning forward so they could hear. ‘He does at least, what – ten, twenty expeditions each year? He must have bagged a hot girlfriend on one of them.’
‘He’s gonna bag another on this trip,’ Jenny said with a wink, and they all laughed.
Katie’s engagement ring cast a shoal of light across the table and she moved her fingers so the light swam. She had been thrilled when Ed presented her with it, glinting within a black leather ring box. It was a princess-cut diamond, set in a platinum band. She had fallen in love with the simple elegance of the ring and the idea of what wearing it symbolized.
‘You gonna keep it?’ Jenny asked.
‘Ditch it,’ the Canadian girl said. ‘Do something ceremonial – chuck it under a land train – a final fuck you gesture.’
‘No! Sell it!’ Jenny cried. ‘Spend the money on something he’d hate. Drugs, drink, male strippers.’
Katie laughed. Her lips felt numb. She yanked off the ring and pushed it to the bottom of her bag. ‘My round.’
The band continued to thrash at their guitars as she jostled at the bar, which was four deep with customers. A barmaid leant forward, a hand cupped to her ear to catch a drinker’s order who, after the second attempt at shouting, simply pointed to the draught and held up four fingers.
Was it this loud, Mia, in your dingy cellar bar? Did you have to lean close to Ed to be heard? Did he smell jasmine on your skin and spirits on your breath? Or did you flick him one of your hard looks that always infuriated him, only this time you turned up your lips in a hint of a smile, provocative: ‘Well, then?’
You were wearing my dress. You never asked. It was too short on you. I never said, but I thought it looked tarty. Perhaps that’s what Ed liked. His friends must have been impressed, a group of suits watching the barmaid who could neck shots like a landlord, and who danced like a tease.
You might have been drunk – more than I am now? – but you knew what you were doing when you felt my fiancé against you. I can see his fingers peeling the thin straps of my dress from your shoulders. Did he kiss you first, or was that too intimate for you? Did you think of me, even once? Your sister! His fiancée! Did you take a second to imagine how I’d feel?
The crowd pushed from behind and she was squeezed tight between thick, sweating bodies. She imagined Ed and Mia this close, his mouth on her neck, her pierced navel, the insides of her thighs. Did he prefer her long legs and her taut stomach? Had he thought Mia more beautiful? Or was it that he wanted to taste her wildness – just to sample a different dish?
How must it have felt to be like you growing up, Mia? With no boundaries, or limits, or expectations heaped on you. You once said I was the sunny-haired and sunny-natured sister who made daisy chains with her friends. You cast yourself as the dark-haired, dark-spirited one, who prowled the beaches alone. But I never once saw us like that. I saw you as freedom, as the open sea. And I longed for it.
Clumsily, she undid the top buttons of her dress and rearranged her bra so her breasts looked fuller. She smoothed her hair behind her ears and licked her lips.
The man beside Katie, whose tanned arms bulged out of a cut-off shirt, winked at her. She smiled, glancing up at him through her eyelashes. When the person in front of him moved away from the bar, he gestured for her to take their place. She slipped into the gap and as the crowd closed around them she felt the heat of his body against her back.
‘What’s ya name?’ he asked, his breath hot in her ear.
‘Mia,’ Katie told him, feeling something inside her pulling loose.
‘You are fuckin’ hot, Mia.’
‘Then maybe you should come and find me later.’
She ordered double shots for the table and carried them back on a silver tray sticky with spilt drinks. They drank them in one, slamming the glasses down on the table. Then they found a space on the cramped dance floor that smelt of sweat and beer. Alcohol and music pulsed through her as she swayed her hips to the band’s rhythm. The other girls laughed and joked as they danced, but Katie felt far away now. Voices cut across one another, glistening bodies spun and wove around her. She coiled herself into sensual shapes and even when the others had gone to sit down, she danced on.
People were turning to watch as she writhed, her eyes closed, her hands running through the air. Is this how you danced that night? Is this what Ed wanted? She danced harder, not caring what people thought, not caring that she was drunk.
The man in the cut-off shirt moved in front of her and put his thick hands around her waist. ‘Hello, Mia.’
She laughed at the sound of that name, throwing her head back. Above, a mirror ball spun, reflecting her image in a thousand broken fragments.
The man slipped his knee between hers. Their hips pressed together and she wrapped her hands around his waist to steady herself. Then his mouth was covering hers, wet and hungry. She could taste salt and whisky.
They danced on, him spinning her until the lights on the dance floor blurred. She was sweating beneath her dress and her head was beginning to ache.
She broke away saying, ‘Toilet.’
‘I’ll come,’ he said, and she let him take her hand and lead her there. He waited outside.
The cubicle smelt of urine and vomit. She had trouble locking the door, and stumbled as she took down her knickers, clinging to the toilet roll dispenser to right herself.
‘Okay in there, hon?’ a woman shouted from the next cubicle.
‘Fine,’ she managed, her head spinning.
As she washed her hands in a sink blocked with paper towels, she knew the man would be waiting. She would have sex with this stranger with his thick arms and greedy kisses. She would do it because she was too drunk not to. She would do it because she wasn’t the woman Ed fell in love with. She would do it because she didn’t care enough to say no.
She wove from the toilets, her hands still damp. A firm grip encircled her wrist and she was pulled away.
*
There were voices somewhere beyond where Katie lay. She opened her eyes a fraction, shifting as the world came into focus. She raised a hand in front of her face to shade the sun streaming into the room. Where was she?
She swallowed and her mouth felt swollen and dry. She’d been drinking. She paused on an image of Ed grasping a fistful of pages. They had fought, broken off their engagement. She felt for her ring: gone.
She pushed herself upright, saw the empty bunks beside hers and realized she was in a hostel. The hikers. She’d gone out drinking with the hikers. Then she remembered a man’s mouth covering hers. Nausea overwhelmed her and she lurched from the bed. She took several deep breaths, her head pounding.
What the hell had happened? Had she had sex with him? They had been at the bar together, she was certain of that. She’d told him her name was Mia. Then later they were dancing. She remembered going to the toilets … with him?
She glanced down and realized that she was still wearing last night’s dress. It was twisted around her stomach, a beer stain spread over the skirt. Her heart was racing. She wanted to crawl into the ground. So this is how it feels to be you?
She began tugging at the dress, ripping the buttons open and yanking it over her head. She flung it to the ground and stood panting in her underwear. What have I done? She slumped against a table, knocking a plastic water bottle over. It rolled to a stop beside a note. It had her name on it and she picked it up.
Katie,
Thought you might be needing these. [Two hand-drawn arrows pointed from the page, indicating the water and a pack of headache tablets.] Hope you didn’t mind being
chaperoned back. He didn’t seem like your type!
Love, Jenny
P.S. Remember, sell the ring! Buy yourself a flight to New Zealand and come stay!
It had been Jenny who had grabbed her arm and led her from the pub toilets. Now she remembered the man, an angry vein pulsing in the neck like a threat, protesting that he would take Katie home, but losing.
Relief swam through her. She swallowed two tablets and then wrapped herself in a towel and left for the showers. Finding an empty cubicle, she turned the shower dial to hot and stepped in. Scalding water pummelled her scalp and turned the skin on her chest mottled red. Steam rose around her and she filled her lungs with it. She washed her hair and smoothed soap over her body, letting the water rinse her skin clean.
Without warning, tears began flooding her face. Deep sobs rattled through her body, drenched by the noise of the shower. She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes, her head throbbing with the enormity of what had happened. Their wedding would have to be cancelled; there would be guests to tell, arrangements to unravel. But it was bigger than that. She wasn’t just losing her fiancé, but the life they’d planned together – the home they’d imagined building, the children who’d have one day played there.
Look at what you’ve done to me, Mia! I’m alone in Australia, sobbing in a hostel shower. My engagement is over. And now I’ve got nobody. You’ve ruined everything! And for what? A quick fuck in a corridor?
In a burst of movement, she yanked the dial to cold. Icy water poured over her head and down her spine. She gasped, her eyes wide. Instantly she was alert, her skin tingling. She cut the shower and caught her breath, her anger fizzling out.
As cold water dripped from her body, Katie thought back to Mia’s entry. You filled six pages with details of that night. At the end of it you asked yourself, ‘Why did I screw him?’
Your answer was a single line at the bottom of a page: ‘Because I’m a bitch.’
But I’m starting to understand more about you, Mia. I don’t believe you were the dark-haired, dark-spirited girl you’d have had us think. I know why you slept with Ed. You wanted to take the most important person in my life from me.
Just like I took Finn from you.