Sweet Damage

  ‘No,’ Lilla says. ‘It’s nothing like that. Not at all. It would just be a normal dinner party. I won’t make it obvious or anything. If we hit it off, we hit it off. If we don’t, we don’t. No harm done.’

  ‘I suppose I could call him,’ Anna says. ‘I suppose it couldn’t hurt.’

  ‘Of course it won’t hurt! It’ll be fun!’ Lilla stands up and grabs Anna’s phone off the kitchen bench, slides it across the table. ‘Call him now.’

  ‘Not now,’ Anna says. ‘It’s too early. Later.’

  ‘Today?’

  ‘Maybe.’

  ‘Please?’

  ‘Okay. Later.’

  ‘Promise?’

  ‘Promise.’

  69

  SHE DOES AS LILLA HAS ASKED, AND CALLS MARCUS. HE AGREES TO COME TO dinner the following weekend. When she tells him that Lilla will be there, that she’s staying with them at the moment, Anna is sure she hears a change in his voice, a slight sharpening in his interest.

  She’s not sure why she feels bad about it, or quite where this feeling of possessiveness comes from. Surely she wouldn’t begrudge him love? Especially not now that she has Tim. All the same, she feels out of sorts and irritable for the rest of the morning.

  Later that day, Lilla suggests that they all go down to Manly.

  ‘There’s a band playing down at the Corso. And it’s such a beautiful day. We can have a beer or ten.’

  Tim looks keen for a second, then he glances over at Anna, as if only just remembering that she can’t leave the house. He shakes his head. ‘Nah. We might just stay here.’

  ‘What?’ Lilla says. ‘You’re joking, right? Since when have you been such a homebody? Come on, the weather’s perfect. It’ll be awesome.’

  ‘I won’t,’ Anna says. ‘But you go, Tim. Really, I don’t mind,’ she says, as cheerfully as she can. ‘I’ve got some things I need to do here.’

  ‘Oh, come on, Anna,’ Lilla says, taking Anna’s hand, bouncing around her. ‘Let’s go and have some fun.’

  And though Lilla’s words and actions seem friendly enough there’s something cold in her face, something sharp in her eyes that bothers Anna, makes her wonder what Lilla is playing at. She gets the strange feeling that Lilla is performing – she just can’t work out what or why.

  ‘No. Really.’ She pulls her hand away. ‘I can’t.’

  ‘I’ll stay here too,’ Tim says, ‘and help you out.’

  Anna shakes her head and plasters a big smile on her face. ‘Don’t be stupid. Go on. Leave me alone for a while.’

  ‘If you’re sure?’ Tim can’t help but show his pleasure, and though she doesn’t show it – it would be like trying to keep him trapped, just as she is trapped – she can’t help feeling disappointed.

  ‘Of course,’ she says. ‘Go. Have a beer for me.’

  *

  She watches them from the living-room window.

  They walk together, Lilla’s shapely brown legs going fast to keep pace with Tim’s much longer ones. The two of them are laughing, Lilla leaning into him when she talks, looking up at him, her face so pretty and animated. Both of them are oblivious, taking everything for granted: the world and the fact that they can be a part of it, their own easy confidence.

  When she can no longer see them, Anna pulls closed the curtain, turns back to the empty room.

  She lies belly-down on the sofa and buries her face in a cushion. She screams as loudly as she can. Nobody can hear her and she screams until her throat is hoarse, screams until the fabric is wet with her spit and tears. She screams until the image of Tim and Lilla walking down the road, away from her, is replaced by a head full of black.

  70

  ‘I LIKE ANNA,’ LILLA SAYS, AS WE WALK. ‘I REALLY DO. BUT SHE’S definitely pretty messed up. You should be careful. I mean, I know her baby died and everything, but that shrine she’s got up in the attic? Why the hell—’

  ‘I don’t want to hear it, Lilla,’ I interrupt. ‘Stop now before you start pissing me off.’

  ‘But come on, Tim,’ she says, glancing at me sideways. ‘It’s creepy. It totally gave me the shivers. You should be worried about her. I mean, I certainly am. She’s totally depressed. Like, why didn’t she want to come out with us? She never does anything. It’s weird. She hangs around that house like an old lady.’

  I watch her face but can’t properly read her expression. Is the smile on her face a smug and knowing one, or is she just being mischievous, her normal tactless self?

  ‘Maybe she just likes doing her own thing,’ I say, neutrally. ‘She’s independent. Self-contained. You’d probably benefit from being more like that yourself.’

  She shrugs and the strange smile is replaced with a more natural one. ‘Yeah,’ she laughs. ‘Maybe you’re right. Maybe I would.’

  *

  When we get to Manly we stand and watch the band for a while but it’s hot in the sun and my throat is dry and I long for the beer Lilla mentioned back at the house. We go to one of the restaurants with outdoor seating and order beers and hot chips. And as we eat and drink, and finish our first beer and order a second, Lilla talks, telling me about the recent workplace drama that ended in her being sacked. Lilla’s outrage seems misplaced but I don’t bother saying anything, instead I nod, only half-listening, enjoying the atmosphere, the noises, the people.

  I’m sitting there half-listening to Lilla, relaxed with the sun and the music and my gently inebriated state, when Lilla’s phone rings. She lifts her bag to the table and rummages through it, tossing scraps of paper and tissues on the table as she searches.

  By the time she’s found the phone it’s stopped.

  ‘Dammit,’ she says, standing up. ‘Sorry, Tim. I just need to return that call. Won’t be a sec.’

  She walks away, phone pressed against her ear. I start cleaning up the mess she made, putting tissues and papers back into her bag.

  Among the mess I find a photo. A photo that has been ripped in half and defaced. It was clearly a picture of Anna and somebody else – the blonde hair and thin body are unmistakable – but the second person has been torn away, and Anna’s face has been scratched off with something sharp. Jagged marks zigzag aggressively through her head, leaving her face an eerie-looking blank.

  I shove everything else back into Lilla’s bag and by the time she returns I’m pretty sure I’ve managed to erase the expression of shock from my face.

  She puts her phone back in her bag, pushes it to the other side of the table.

  ‘Sorry ’bout that,’ she says, taking a chip.

  I drink my beer and don’t say a word.

  71

  WHEN SHE’SCALMER AND CAN BREATHE NORMALLY AGAIN SHE STANDS UP. Brushes her clothes down. Pulls her shoulders back.

  She always feels drained when she loses control like that, lets herself give in to her grief. She feels slightly embarrassed too, as though she has humiliated herself before the universe, succumbed to something weak and shameful within herself. She considers going to the attic for a while to make herself feel better, to find her equilibrium again, and heads upstairs. But when she walks past Lilla’s bedroom she notices something from the corner of her eye that makes her stop.

  On the shelf, next to the photo of Lilla, is the ceramic flower. The one her father gave her. Seeing it there makes her heart pound, her fists clench with sudden anger.

  Marching into Lilla’s room, she is full of outrage, a sense of having been violated. How dare Lilla take such liberties! She picks up the sculpture, runs her hands over its familiar glossy surface. She will take it downstairs, put it back in the living room where it belongs. She will confront Lilla when she gets back – tell her to keep her hands off her stuff.

  But then an idea starts forming in her mind. She won’t take the flower. Not yet. She returns to the bookshelves and puts it back where she found it.

  She leaves Lilla’s room and heads back down the hall towards Tim’s. She pushes his door open and goes to his desk. His laptop st
arts up when she lifts the lid, the pages Tim was last looking at appearing on the screen. The surf report. Facebook. She sits down. Leans forward. Starts searching for some answers.

  72

  I INSIST ON GOING BACK TO FAIRVIEW AS SOON AS I FINISH MY beer. Lilla complains and calls me a piker, but as we’re leaving she bumps into a group of friends and decides to stay with them. I head home alone.

  I find Anna sitting in the kitchen. My laptop is open on the table in front of her. She has an intense, thoughtful look on her face.

  I sit next to her.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘Look at this.’ She turns the computer so that I can see the screen. She’s on Lilla’s Facebook page. There’s a picture of Lilla standing in the street, holding her clenched fist in the air.

  ‘Lilla being Lilla,’ I shrug. ‘What about it?’

  She points to the building behind Lilla, then flicks to another website, another image of the same building.

  ‘But that’s—’

  ‘Yes. And the interesting thing is that this image was uploaded over a year ago.’

  I feel my mouth drop open in shock. I can’t believe it. It can’t be coincidence – it would be far too unlikely – but I can’t figure out what it means.

  ‘I don’t get it,’ I say.

  ‘Neither do I. But I think I’m starting to.’

  ‘There’s something else,’ I say. I take the photo from my wallet and hand it to Anna.

  ‘This fell out of Lilla’s bag earlier. I wasn’t sure whether I should show you.’

  ‘My God,’ Anna’s eyes go wide. ‘Does she know you have this?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Good. Let’s not say anything. Not yet. We need to think first. We need a plan.’

  *

  Later, as we’re lying side by side in bed, both of us quiet, still partly in shock from what we discovered earlier in the day, I turn towards Anna and put my hand on her stomach, trace a small circle on her soft, white skin. ‘You okay?’

  ‘I’m fine. You?’

  ‘Don’t know. Confused.’

  She grabs my hand and turns away from me, pulling my arm around her. She shifts backwards, nestling close.

  ‘Maybe we should cancel that dinner thing next week?’ I say. ‘With Marcus and Fiona?’

  ‘No.’ She shakes her head. I can’t see her face but her voice is determined. ‘Let’s have it. It’s the perfect chance, Tim. They’ll all be here. We can finally get to the bottom of this. Find out what she’s playing at, what’s really going on.’

  73

  I SPEND THE FOLLOWING SUNDAY AFTERNOON IN THE KITCHEN, doing most of the food preparation before Marcus and Fiona arrive. Lilla heads out for a while and comes back to the house with booze.

  ‘Cocktails!’ she announces, loading bottles of tequila and Cointreau and a bag of limes onto the counter.

  She starts making a batch immediately. She collects ice in a jug, pours the spirits generously, squeezes lime over the top, stirs it all together.

  ‘Want one?’ she asks.

  ‘Nah,’ I say. ‘Not yet. I’ll wait.’

  ‘God, Tim, don’t be such a drag,’ she says. ‘Where’s Anna? We should all have a pre-party cocktail.’

  ‘Still upstairs. Having a bath, I think.’

  She ignores the fact that I declined and edges three wine glasses with salt. She pours the cloudy concoction in, filling them right to the brim. She hands me one.

  ‘Bottoms up!’ she says, pressing her glass against mine.

  I take a small sip, grimace with the salty, bitter heat of it.

  ‘You don’t like it?’

  ‘It’s okay.’ I put the glass down. Turn back to what I was doing. ‘But I told you I didn’t want one.’

  ‘Maybe I know you better than you know yourself.’

  ‘Maybe you just don’t know how to take no for an answer,’ I say irritably.

  ‘I think you might be right about that,’ she laughs as she picks up the other two glasses and leaves the room. ‘In fact I think you’re absolutely spot on.’

  74

  LILLA WALKS INTO THE BATHROOM WITHOUT KNOCKING AND ANNA’S SO startled to see her, so unused to being naked around other women, that she brings her knees up and plunges down beneath the water, putting her hands between her legs.

  ‘It’s okay.’ Lilla rolls her eyes at Anna’s modesty. ‘I’ve seen it all before. I was just bringing you a drink.’ She puts the glass on the vanity near the bath and turns to go, stopping in the doorway. ‘Come to my room when you’ve finished. We can get ready together.’

  Anna must look either blank or baffled or both because Lilla laughs. ‘So we can do each other’s hair. You can help me choose what to wear. And if you bring some clothes I’ll help you.’

  ‘Oh, I’m just wearing jeans,’ Anna says. ‘I don’t need any help.’

  ‘No you’re not. No way. You’re going to have some fun tonight, Anna London. You’re going to dress up. We both are. We’re going to make an occasion of it. And you may not need any help, but I do.’ She stops to think for a moment, tapping a finger on the rim of her glass. ‘In fact, I’ve got the perfect dress I can lend you. It’s gorgeous. It’s a bit too small for me these days, tight around my back, but you’re so thin, it’ll definitely fit. Come straight to my room. I’ll be waiting.’

  Anna can’t be bothered arguing and she doesn’t particularly care what she wears – jeans, a dress, it’s all the same to her – so she nods her agreement. She’ll save her energy for the fights that matter.

  When Lilla has gone Anna reaches up for the glass and, holding it carefully, slips back down into the bath, so that she is almost lying flat on her back, only her hands and head above the water. She holds the glass in two hands and swirls the liquid around so that some of it spills over the rim. And then she lowers the glass into the water, slowly, until bathwater spills into the liquor and turns it soapy, until the entire glass is completely submerged.

  *

  ‘It’s perfect!’ Lilla says.

  The dress is black and short and tight. It’s very low cut in the front, showing a lot of cleavage, and dips low at the back. It fits perfectly, snug without being too tight, and ends well above Anna’s knees.

  It’s an effort to hide her discomfort when Lilla stands too close. Lilla’s hands go everywhere – touching Anna’s arms and back and hips – fixing the dress, straightening the shoulders, pulling the skirt taut over Anna’s behind. She wants to pull away when Lilla’s hand touches her skin, but she closes her eyes, breathes through it and pretends not to mind. When Lilla’s happy with the fit of the dress she persuades Anna to sits on a stool so she can fix Anna’s hair and make-up.

  Lilla works for ages on Anna’s hair, blow-drying and straightening, putting some kind of gel in it to give it body. And when that’s done she turns her attention to Anna’s face, using three different kinds of foundation, blush, a gallon of eyeliner. Lilla bites her lip with concentration as she leans close to Anna, and for a moment Anna is filled with a sharp sense of regret.

  ‘Okay. Finished. Come and have a look.’ Lilla guides Anna to the full-length mirror, stands behind her. ‘See, look at you!’

  The dress is sexy and revealing, so different to the kind of thing Anna normally wears that she can’t help but gape stupidly at her own reflection. Lilla has teased Anna’s hair and brushed it back from her face, making her look much edgier, tougher. And her make-up is startling and dramatic. If Anna wears make-up at all it’s usually just a swipe of gloss on her lips and not much else, but Lilla has neglected Anna’s lips, concentrating instead on her eyes, outlining them with so much black they look deep-set and dark. She looks sexy, wild, slightly mad.

  ‘Thank you,’ Anna smiles uncertainly. ‘A bit tarty maybe. Very different. Nice. I think?’

  ‘Tarty? You look hot, not tarty, Anna, hot.’ Lilla says. She stares at Anna with one eyebrow raised. ‘You are a strange person, Anna London. You’re so repressed and old-fa
shioned, like someone out of a book. But that’s okay. I like you anyway. And as my nan would say, it takes all sorts to make the world go round.’

  ‘I’m so glad you like me, Lilla,’ Anna says with cold sarcasm. ‘Thank God you approve.’

  ‘Oooh,’ Lilla laughs. ‘And there go your manners and out comes your nasty side. And that’s exactly what I like about you. You’re surprising. Complex. I never know what to expect.’

  Lilla persuades Anna to stay while she decides what to wear. She tries several outfits before eventually choosing a short black miniskirt, black boots and a red gypsy-style top. She layers beads around her neck and bracelets on her wrists so that they clatter together musically whenever she moves. She styles her hair with a handful of gel and finishes up with a long pair of earrings. Anna watches in genuine admiration. Lilla certainly knows how to put herself together.

  ‘You look gorgeous,’ Anna says, when Lilla stands before her and spins on the spot. ‘Absolutely beautiful.’

  ‘Not too wild for your conservative friend?’

  Anna shrugs. ‘I wouldn’t know.’

  Lilla puts her glass to her lips and takes a deep sip. She looks around the room. ‘Where’s your drink?’

  ‘I finished it,’ Anna says. ‘Ages ago. In the bath.’

  ‘See? You are surprising!’ Lilla says. ‘So meek and mild and yet you drink like a trooper. How about we go downstairs and get another one?’

  ‘Won’t we be drunk?’ Anna says. ‘Before they even get here?’

  ‘I bloody hope so,’ Lilla says. ‘That is the point, after all.’ And then she reaches out and takes Anna’s hand. ‘Come on. Let’s go downstairs and see what Tim’s doing. We can put some music on and wait for your sexy friend Marcus to get here.’

  *

  When Tim sees Anna his eyes go wide and he gives a low whistle.

  ‘Doesn’t she look hot?’ Lilla asks, but Tim doesn’t answer, he grabs Anna around the waist, pulls her towards him, kisses her.