‘Careful,’ she said aloud, enunciating both syllables, as if demonstrating to herself that she was perfectly sober. She pulled back her shoulders. Raised her chin. Snatched a breath. Yes, she was fine. Completely competent.
She stalked on, dress riding around her thighs, hair drying in salty tangles. Lexi’s red wrap was trailing from her shoulders, one end dusting the earth.
She was sure telling Lexi about Ana was the right thing. Almost sure. Someone needed to tell her. Ana couldn’t be allowed to get away with it. Then she remembered the way Lexi’s face had crumpled, as if she couldn’t physically support the weight of her shock.
Maybe she shouldn’t have said it quite like that. She’d always been hot-headed. Maybe the right thing would’ve been to pause. To think about the impact of her words. Her big announcement wasn’t about Lexi, she realised, staggering to a halt. It was about proving a point to Ana.
There was something wrong with her. Something broken. She kept hurting the people she loved.
She unscrewed the cap from the ouzo. Brought the bottleneck to her lips. The glass clanked against her teeth as she took a gulp, a dribble spilling down her cheek. She wiped her mouth against the back of her hand, grimacing.
His face loomed suddenly into her thoughts. The large eyes stretched with fear, lips mottled, fighting for breath. She’d been joking with him earlier in the shift, hearing about the accident on his stag do that had landed him in hospital.
Sam Maine.
She’d liked him. Teased him.
And then …
She’d killed him.
Bella pulled the wrap tighter around her shoulders, the torch on her phone swerving haphazardly as she stumbled on.
She’d not told any of her friends the truth about why she’d left nursing. Instead, she’d repackaged it as a lifestyle change: ‘Swapping bedpans for diamonds,’ delivered with a beaming grin. What bullshit! She’d loved being a nurse. It was more than a job – it was part of who she was, how she felt about herself.
Ahead, she caught the distant lilt of a voice. She peered along the path as it ascended towards the highest point of the clifftop. She climbed further, a sharp stone pressing into the base of her heel.
As she emerged at the top, she could see Robyn sitting on a boulder near the cliff edge.
Little Robyn.
Even now her heart did something complicated when she saw her – part flutter, part sinking.
Robyn was looking away and, as she moved, Bella saw she was sitting with someone else.
Fen.
In the darkness, neither of them had seen her approach. Bella turned off the torch on her phone. Watched.
They were sitting close to one another, their heads dipped low as if in urgent, private dialogue.
She wondered if they were speaking about her. She hated that feeling of entering a room and voices being lowered, a flick of eyes in her direction. She would join them, she thought, make her apologies. If Bella was good at one thing, it was saying sorry. Quick to fire, but quick to cool, that was her saving grace. She’d always seen the value of a good apology. She’d start right now with Fen – try at least to salvage a strand of friendship.
She walked towards them, beginning to feel a little more optimistic, when she noticed something about the way they were sitting. Their hands were linked.
Why would they be holding hands?
Her gaze rose to Robyn’s profile. Her chin was tilted, gaze locked on Fen’s.
An icicle of dread pierced between her shoulder blades.
No …
She was frozen to the spot, watching. Waiting.
They leaned towards each other – and kissed.
70
Robyn
Robyn was so deep in her body that she was flesh and sinew and blood and heat and movement.
No thinking.
Just feeling.
Being.
A low exhale of pleasure slipped through her lips. She pulled back for a beat – only enough so that she could look at Fen.
Fen was smiling, moonlight catching in her eyes. ‘Wow.’
Robyn grinned, heart soaring.
The moment stretched and widened, the two of them held by the night, something expansive opening in her chest.
She couldn’t stop grinning.
Somewhere behind Robyn’s shoulder, there was the slide of earth beneath a foot. She was pinned so firmly in the moment with Fen that she didn’t notice. Didn’t register the shape of someone else on the clifftop, watching them.
‘How could you?’
Robyn’s head whipped around, smile sliced from her face.
Bella was standing there barefoot, a blood-red wrap cloaking her shoulders. Her face looked pale, lips dark and wide. Sand and dirt streaked her shins.