She swallowed as her heart burst with emotions. Did she know it the first time she clapped eyes on him standing, like Gatsby, in front of his villa? Their instant attraction? She probably did.
Derreck moved his hand and touched her fingers lightly sending shock waves of desire through her. His voice was low and husky. ‘The thing you need to know about JP is that he has a lot of sides to his character. He’s been in trouble with the police, back in Spain. Stupid things. Burglary. Stealing cars. And then when we went travelling he got in with some dodgy people.’ Why had John-Paul never told her any of this? She’d believed he was a gentle, innocent soul. How na?ve she’d been. Derreck continued softly, ‘I took him under my wing a bit. He was just … misguided, I suppose. He had a terrible relationship with his father, who I think was a bit of a brute.’ This was all news to Stace. ‘We travelled around together for a while and then … then Goa happened. I was his alibi but it freaked him out and that was why he ran off to Britain.’
A cold sensation swept over Stace and she drew her knees up to her chest so that she was in a foetal position, her hand still in Derreck’s. Waiting, knowing that at last she was about to find out what had happened.
He was whispering now and she had to inch forward to hear him. ‘He was at a beach party with a group of tourists. Young – teenagers and twenty-somethings. JP said he just gave one of them something – a pill. I’m not even sure what.’
‘You mean … like drugs?’ she whispered back.
Derreck nodded and held her hand firmer as though to comfort her, his thumb stroking her skin. ‘So he’s never told you any of this?’
‘No,’ she admitted. ‘The first I knew about it was when I heard you both talking about Goa on our first night here. I asked John-Paul about it, but he tried to palm me off.’
‘He should have told you. I can’t bear that he’s lying to you.’
‘And what happened after that?’
‘The guy overdosed. He was only eighteen. The drugs had been cut with something dodgy … Like I say, I don’t know all the details. Except JP came to the hostel where I was staying, panicked, crying. He made me promise that if anyone asked I’d say he was with me the whole time. And …’ he dipped his head ‘… to my shame I did. He told me he never knew the drugs were bad. It was that crowd he was in with. They weren’t a good influence on him. The next thing I knew, he’d left me a note to say he’d gone away. And later he wrote to me to tell me he had settled in England, had met a nice local girl and …’
She retracted her hand. She didn’t know what to think. John-Paul wasn’t the man she’d thought he was. But, then, hadn’t she always suspected that deep down? He’d presented to her a version of himself he knew she’d like. A romantic lead in a movie. The exotic hero who swept into a young woman’s boring life and made it temporarily exciting until real life encroached upon them, turning their fantasy to dust.
She groaned. ‘I feel so stupid. John-Paul was always so cagey about his travelling days but I thought it was because he wanted them back. I didn’t realize he was hiding out with me, running away.’ She turned back to him. ‘Do you think that’s why he’s so miserable now? Because being back here has reminded him of that time?’
‘Nobody ever came looking for JP. He was being paranoid, fleeing like that,’ said Derreck. ‘He told me he was broke and had lost his job. I paid for your tickets to fly out here.’
‘John-Paul said he had savings.’ Her whole body flashed hot with embarrassment.
‘He had nothing, Stace,’ he said gently. ‘He regretted running away from India. So that’s why I invited him here – I thought the Buddha thing could help you both out. But …’ he reached over and stroked her cheek ‘… I’m just glad I got to meet you. I’m sorry if I’m talking out of turn, but I think …’ His eyes locked with hers. ‘I hope you feel the same.’ Desire crackled between them and Stace realized she was holding her breath.
She knew what was going to happen next and she did nothing to stop it as he led her upstairs to his room at the top of the villa. They didn’t speak as they peeled off each other’s clothes, holding eye contact, the only light spilling from the French windows that led onto a balcony and were slightly ajar. She knew she had crossed a line: her future was not set out like she’d thought. And there was no going back.
Day Four
39
Jenna
Voice Memo: Thursday, 29 November 2018
I survived another night, although as the days pass I’ve got more questions than answers. Who was the man staying illegally in the cabin opposite? Who wrote the note with the flowers and on my car? And who threw it into the fire? Not to mention who killed Ralph and who attacked me in the forest? I can’t wait to leave this town – but I know Olivia and her friends will follow me.
The next morning I decide to speak to Madame Tovey. I know Jay and Dale have described her as a charlatan but she’s a local institution and was living in Stafferbury when the girls disappeared. She’d be a good interviewee for the podcast.
It’s another cold morning, the sky a blanket of white. There is a light dusting of frost on the pavement. I’ve got my collar turned up against the wind, and as I’m crossing the high street I see Olivia outside Madame Tovey’s. She looks harassed, her face pale and tired. She has a maroon beanie pressed down on her head, which does nothing for her sickly pallor.
‘Olivia,’ I call, speeding up but careful not to slip on the icy pavement. ‘Are you okay?’
‘No, not really,’ she says, glancing up at the window above Madame Tovey’s, which I assume is Wesley’s flat. She looks like she’s barely slept.
‘Can I give you a lift home?’ I can drop her off and come back to see Madame Tovey. It’s not like I have an appointment anyway. ‘My car is only over there,’ I say, pointing to where I’ve parked it on a two-hour bay at the end of the high street.
She hesitates. A shadow moves behind the glass. I realize she’s worried about Wesley’s disapproval. But a defiant expression passes over her face. She sets her chin and nods, thanking me. We walk to the car and don’t speak until we are warm inside.
I start the engine. ‘Is everything okay between you and Wesley?’ I ask, remembering the conversation we had last night.
She tugs off her hat and the static causes her hair to stand on end. She runs her hands over it absently. ‘Something strange happened last night,’ she begins, as I pull away from the kerb and fall behind a passing Vauxhall. There isn’t much traffic; there never seems to be around here.
‘Oh, yes?’ I want to ask her about the note and whether she had put it into the fire but I can’t work out a way to phrase it without sounding confrontational. And if Olivia is guilty of something it might give me the upper hand if I don’t reveal I know about the burnt note.
Horror washes over me when she’s finished telling me what happened to her last night. ‘Are you saying you think you might have been injected with drugs?’
She blinks and I can see she’s close to tears. ‘Yes.’