Karin found herself alone again. She took a moment before going back out, heading straight for the toilets to try and recover. Her head was screaming, and she desperately wanted to escape from here now. Go home. Back to Aaron’s place preferably. She was in no mood to go to a restaurant with Mel, although she could hardly bail out of that one at such short notice, having built it up to be the big Thank You meal. It was the least she could do, and especially as Mel had been on the receiving end of one of those appalling notes. Will was gone. She didn’t want to lose Mel too.
Where was Will now? she wondered. Wandering round Leeds looking for a place to put his sleeping bag? Had he gone back to ‘his bedroom’ down by the river? Karin hoped that after a couple of nights in the open, he would change his mind. In spite of not seeing him as often as she once did, she still felt her life was somehow incomplete without him. It continued to baffle her as to why he would walk away from the opportunity of a proper home and the chance of a better future.
‘Darling,’ said Aaron, handing her a glass of wine when she re-emerged. ‘I couldn’t find you anywhere. And your friend, or whatever you want to call her, wants us to choose a painting. As a wedding present!’
‘What?’ The word got stuck in her throat.
‘She’s offering us one of two, but I said I’d leave it for you to decide. Let me show you.’ He took her by the arm. ‘I was saying to Mel earlier, I really think these could be worth something one day. We shouldn’t look a gift horse, as they say.’
Karin had a fainting taste in her mouth. Metal. Like eating tinfoil. And a blurry sensation in her limbs was making it impossible to put one foot in front of the other. Somehow she made it over to Ophelia. She must have, because she was standing in front of it now.
‘What do you think?’ asked Aaron, raising his arm as if he already owned it.
‘Yeah, it’s—’
‘Oh. You don’t like it.’ Aaron sounded defensive. Or disappointed, she couldn’t tell which.
‘Well yes, it’s just—’ Karin swallowed. She was on the verge of giving him some sort of explanation when she saw him waving his hand at Louie to come over.
‘Right,’ said Louie, rubbing her hands, ‘so which is it to be?’
‘You don’t have to do this,’ said Karin.
‘No, I insist,’ said Louie. ‘If you’re getting married.’
Karin was desperate to locate Mel, frantically searching for her in the crowd. She badly needed Mel’s strength and support right now, but couldn’t spot her anywhere.
‘Is there a problem, Karin?’ Aaron made it sound more like an accusation than a question.
‘Erm. Not really. It’s just the woman in this picture is – well, she’s dead.’
‘Of course she is, it’s Ophelia,’ he said.
Karin could feel Louie’s eyes burning into her cheek. Then Aaron pulled her to one side.
‘Being a bit ungracious, aren’t you?’ He spoke in a low whisper. ‘Is there something you’re not telling me? I just wish you’d open up to me, I’m not a mind reader.’
‘I told you, Aaron, I nearly drowned once.’ She was also whispering, trying not to sound angry.
‘Yes, I’m aware of that. But it’s Ophelia in the painting, not you.’
Karin felt faint again. Had Louie said something? She really couldn’t tell by Aaron’s tone.
‘It still makes me think of my bad experience,’ she said, reminding herself of the fact there was no real resemblance. Not unless you knew. It wasn’t her face or anything. Not in any of the paintings. You really did have to know in order to make that connection. She was just being paranoid.
‘Any thoughts?’ said Louie, interrupting. ‘Maybe you’d prefer the other one if you’re not so keen on Ophelia.’ She linked arms with the pair of them and continued talking. ‘And if you don’t like that one, then you just choose whichever you like.’
The next painting was titled Meet Me at the Edge. Karin remembered Louie starting it just before she left Morecambe. An enormous canvas, spread thickly with creamy blues and whites and two vague outlines in the distance, standing side by side like ghosts. It was a romantic painting in its innocence.
Louie’s eyes were on her once more from behind, burning into her back. At least this painting didn’t feature any of her body parts, as far as she could tell. No hair. No blood, no fingernails; she wouldn’t put it past Louie to stop at just hair. And the figures were pretty abstract, despite Karin knowing exactly who they were.
‘Yeah, I guess this one,’ she said, feebly.
‘You still don’t sound keen,’ said Aaron.
‘No, I am. It’s a beautiful painting. I always loved it.’
‘Great, well let me put the red dot on it then,’ said Louie, stepping forwards to do just that. It seemed like she was making an attempt to rescue Karin by moving in quickly. Perhaps to deflect from her use of the word always?
Did always say too much about the two of them? Karin didn’t know any more. She was drowning in lies, pulling her under.
‘Gone to a very good home,’ said Louie.
It helped Karin recover, whatever Louie intended by it.
‘Thank you,’ she said, smiling thinly at Louie. This was all part of her carefully choreographed game of course, Karin realized. She wouldn’t want to jeopardize things with Aaron, acting in a way to protect her own interests.
As well as doing her best to unnerve Karin.
She felt Aaron’s hand brushing her hair to one side, and assumed he was going to kiss her. Instead he whispered: ‘We need to talk, Karin.’
It made the blood empty out of her again as the Victoria Arcade rotated in a kaleidoscope of marble and coloured glass. Karin had to excuse herself, abandoning Aaron with Louie for the second time this evening. But she knew, if she were to faint now, it would be an even worse disaster.
She had in her sights a marble pillar to lean against. It was a long way off. Trying to keep her breathing under control, fingers tight around her wrist, she stumbled, reaching into thin air to stop herself from falling. An arm linked through hers. A sturdy shoulder bolstered her upright and she heard a voice say: ‘You okay, Karin?’
‘Mel. Thank God. Let’s get out of here.’
As Mel steered them towards the glass doors at the bottom end of the arcade, it occurred to her that she hadn’t told Aaron she was leaving but couldn’t face going back. She would text him. It was a risk leaving him here alone with Louie, although the damage had already been done.