2018
Everyone is staring at Sofia. In the background, the pool gurgles. The birds high in the nearby trees call out to each other. One of the candles at the centre of the table flickers and dies.
‘Justice for what?’ Mel asks.
Sofia sips her champagne. ‘For my mother’s murder.’
‘What?’ Quinn looks at the others. They sit in stunned silence. ‘Sofia, your mother took her own life.’
‘That’s the official story,’ Sofia says.
‘Darling girl,’ Holly says, ‘we… we all saw her.’
‘We cut her down,’ Joe says. ‘Me and Carl.’
‘I know,’ Sofia says. ‘I was there.’
Quinn glances at Dmitri. He is still standing behind Sofia’s chair, his expression unreadable. If he’s surprised by what Sofia is saying he isn’t showing it. Is this an unrehearsed outburst or was it planned?
‘My mother hanged herself,’ Sofia says, ‘but she wasn’t responsible for her death.’ She plucks a grape from the bunch in front of her. ‘You are, Quinn.’ She puts the grape between her teeth and bites down on the purple skin. ‘You killed her.’
Quinn’s solar plexus throbs, as if Sofia has punched her there. ‘You know how depressed Eva was in those last few weeks,’ she says. ‘She went to a very dark place.’
‘It was so hard to watch,’ Holly says. ‘I thought she was getting better.’
‘She seemed to be.’ Zoe glances at the others. ‘Didn’t she?’
A chorus of agreement.
‘The thing is, Mel,’ Sofia says.
‘Mel wasn’t with us then,’ Quinn says. ‘Don’t involve her in this.’
Beneath the table, Mel lays a hand on Quinn’s jiggling thigh. Quinn takes a deep breath, tries to settle herself.
‘She’s an outsider,’ Sofia says, ‘who better to judge you?’
‘I’m not an outsider.’ Mel removes her hand from Quinn’s thigh. ‘I’m one of them.’
‘You were part of the establishment once,’ Sofia says. ‘A dedicated upholder of law and order. I’ll be interested to know what you make of what you hear tonight.’
‘Sofia,’ Holly pleads, ‘sweetheart. Being back here must be hard but—’
‘About six months before my mother killed herself, she had a serious breakdown,’ Sofia says, still addressing Mel. ‘The worst I’d ever seen. She was up and down all the time – I was used to that – but this was next-level depression.’
‘Poor Eva.’ Zoe sighs. ‘She wasn’t herself at all.’
‘She was seriously fucking low,’ says Carl.
‘And Quinn,’ Sofia says, the obscene diamond on her right hand flashing in the candlelight, ‘Quinn thought she could cure my mother all by herself.’
Quinn searches for the right words. Sofia is clearly upset. How best to help her? Her inner voice, the one that guides her in all situations tells her to be honest. ‘Eva didn’t want traditional treatment. You know that.’
‘She hated doctors,’ Holly says.
‘And medicine,’ Joe adds. ‘She even refused to take paracetamol.’
‘Ironic really,’ Carl says, ‘considering all the coke and ecstasy she took back in the day.’ He flinches as Zoe elbows him. ‘Sorry, but you know what I mean.’
Quinn feels unmoored. This isn’t the night she had planned. What on earth is happening? Aphrodite jumps onto her lap. The cat’s warm, solid presence grounds her. ‘I’ve never claimed to be able to cure anyone of anything,’ she says, ‘but I can help people to heal themselves.’
She recalls Eva slipping into her room one night, tears streaming down her face.
‘I want to cure this depression holistically,’ Eva said, climbing into bed beside her in search of a cuddle. ‘Will you help me?’
Quinn shares this memory with everyone now. ‘I told her I’d do anything to help her. I said I believed she could make herself better.’
‘We all believed she could,’ Zoe says.
‘I remember,’ Sofia says. ‘You all helped. Joe, by cooking her all the right foods. Zoe with the tantra exercises for self-love. Carl with the dancing, Holly with the gardening and Quinn with her “intuitive healing”.’ Sofia puts air quotation marks around her last phrase.
‘Most importantly we all believed,’ Quinn says. ‘We knew that if we all committed to Eva’s healing journey, every single one of us, she would get better.’ Aphrodite launches into an approving purr. ‘You believed it too, Sofia. Your belief was the most important of all.’
‘Isn’t that cruel, Mel?’ Sofia says. ‘Making a twelve-year-old girl think she has power over her mother’s state of mind. Making a child think the universe is listening to her, ready to do her bidding.’
‘It sounds like you were angry with your mother’s choices,’ Mel says to Sofia.
‘And that’s okay,’ Quinn says. ‘That’s understandable.’
‘I’m angry with you.’ Sofia jabs a finger in Quinn’s direction. ‘This is about you.’
‘You were a child,’ Quinn says. ‘Eva and I wanted to protect you.’ She can’t bear to see Sofia tormented by the past like this. ‘Memory is tricky. There’s a lot you were too young to remember properly.’
‘You’re right.’ Sofia drains the last of her champagne. ‘I was only twelve years old. There’s a lot I didn’t understand or remember correctly.’ She smiles. ‘But I know someone who does.’