“I don’t know.” Lana shrugged. “She’s drunk.”
“That’s not all she is. Don’t worry, I have a feeling she’ll come back from the bathroom in a much better mood.”
But I was wrong. Kate returned to the table in a much worse state. She was high, clearly, agitated, spoiling for a fight—not just with me—any of us would do.
Leo and Jason wisely kept their heads low and ate fast. They wanted to go as soon as possible. But the courses kept coming, a seemingly endless number, so I concentrated on the food.
I suspect I was the only one who enjoyed the meal. Lana just picked at her plate. Kate didn’t touch a thing—she smoked and drank, glowering around the table malevolently. After a long uncomfortable silence, Lana tried deflecting Kate with a compliment:
“I love that scarf you’re wearing. Such a deep red.”
“It’s a shawl.” Kate threw it over her shoulder, contemptuously, then told a long, grandiose story about how the shawl was made for her by an orphan she sponsored in Bangladesh, to thank Kate for putting her through school. “It’s not fashion, so I know you’d never touch it—but I love it.”
“Actually, I think it’s rather beautiful.” Lana reached out and fingered the end of it. “Such delicate work. She’s very talented.”
“She’s clever, more importantly. She’s going to be a doctor.”
“Thanks to you. You are wonderful, Kate.”
This attempt to pacify Kate was like buttering up a grumpy child—Oh, you are clever, well done—and it was clumsy of Lana. But I could tell she was rattled by this sudden change in Kate. We all were.
If I had to select one moment that weekend when it all went wrong, it was there, at the restaurant. An indefinable line was crossed, somehow—and we sailed from a place of normality, into uncharted territory: into a dark, friendless no-man’s-land, from which there was no safe return.
The whole time we were sitting there, I could hear the wind, wailing on the water. It was picking up speed; tablecloths were flapping; candles blowing out. Below us, waves buffeted the seawall.
We’d better go soon, I thought. Or we’ll have trouble getting back.
I took hold of my white linen napkin with my right hand—and dangled it over the edge of the wall, above the water. I opened my fingers and let it go—
The napkin was snatched from my fingers by the wind. It danced in the night sky for a moment.
Then it was swallowed by the darkness.
19
As Agathi predicted, the wind was worse on the way back.
The speedboat lurched over huge black waves while the wind spat salty sea spray at us. The journey seemed to take forever. When we finally got back to the house, we were drenched and badly shaken up.
Ever the gentleman, Leo found towels for everyone. As we dried ourselves off, Jason made a feeble attempt to end the evening. A preemptive strike, you might say. Honestly, he should have known better. Any attempts to “manage” Kate, to send her to bed like a naughty child, were doomed to failure. Kate wasn’t the type of person to be managed.
“How about we call it a night?” Jason said. “I’m knackered.”
“Not yet,” Kate said. “I’m having a nightcap first.”
“Haven’t you had enough?”
“No. That boat ride completely sobered me up. I need another drink.”
“Good idea,” I said. “Me, too. A double anything, please.”
I wandered outside through the French windows, onto the veranda. It was shielded from the worst of the wind by the stone wall surrounding it.
We used the veranda a lot: it had various couches, coffee tables, a firepit, and a barbecue. I flicked on the firepit and used the flame to spark the end of my joint—which I had rolled in the hope of repeating last night’s merriment. Alas, how far away that seemed now. Like a different lifetime.
Leo followed me outside. He nodded at the joint. “Can I have some?”
I was a little surprised at the request. He didn’t drink alcohol and I assumed he didn’t approve of marijuana. I considered it.
“Hmm. I suppose you’re old enough.”
“I’m nearly eighteen. All my friends smoke. It’s no big deal.”
“Don’t tell your mother.” I handed him the joint. I nodded at Kate in the living room. “I wouldn’t stick around if I were you. Unless you fancy a ringside seat.”
Leo nodded. He brought the end of the joint to his lips and inhaled deeply. He held the smoke in his lungs for a moment. Then he slowly exhaled, managing not to cough, which impressed me. He handed me the joint.