Chapter 11
BENEDICT
She doesn’t open the door to me again, no matter how long I stand there banging on it. So, deciding not to embarrass myself any longer, I leave her doorstep and make my way home, feeling sick to my stomach.
Is that it, then? Is it really over between us? I can’t quite believe it could have ended so suddenly, but then again, I’m also not that surprised. I’ve been expecting something like this all along.
So why does it feel like my insides have been pulled out through my throat?
I don’t hear from her again. Not that I’m expecting to after the ice-cold send-off she gave me.
And on Friday night – six long, painful days after Maya cut me out of her life for good – I enter the ‘restaurant of the moment’ with April and pull out a chair for her at the table the ma?tre d’ shows us to.
She flashes me a grateful but cool smile.
I take a moment to pull myself together and refocus. It’s not fair on my dinner companion if my thoughts are elsewhere for the entire evening.
Mind you, having said that, April is a very beautiful, smart and capable woman – the latter borne out by the fact that Maxim is happy for her to be so intrinsically involved with his business – but it seems all those glowing attributes come with an aloof distance and a disassociation from the people around her.
From what I’ve seen of her so far, she says all the right things at the right time – but it’s as if she’s playing a part. She’s not really there in spirit. There’s something missing. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I’d hazard a guess at it being her soul.
We make chitchat about business matters while we choose our meals and place our orders, and I try to not think about Maya for at least a few minutes.
But it seems I’m incapable of it, because when there’s a pause in conversation, I can’t stop myself from asking, ‘So, how’s Maya getting on with her plans for her jewellery business? ’
April smiles dispassionately and leans back in her chair. ‘My father seems to be impressed with her business plan, so he’s agreed to support her in it.’
‘That’s great,’ I say, genuinely pleased to hear it, despite my lingering frustration with the way she ended things between us.
‘I understand you had the pleasure of her company for a few weeks?’ April says with a wry smile. ‘That must have been challenging.’
I lean back in my chair and cross my arms, feeling defensive on Maya’s behalf at the derision in April’s tone.
‘Actually, we got on really well,’ I say, fixing April with a steady smile. ‘Her work ethic really impressed me. I think she’ll make a real success of her business. She’s certainly got the drive and determination for it.’
April’s eyebrows rise. ‘Yes, determined is a very appropriate adjective for my sister.’
‘Maya mentioned the two of you don’t really get on?’
I really shouldn’t keep talking about her, but I don’t seem able to stop myself.
April lets out a small snort. ‘That’s putting it lightly. She hates my guts. Though I guess it’s not surprising, considering what I said to her after our mother died.’
She gives me a calculating look, as if trying to assess from my reaction how much I already know about their story.
‘What did you say to her?’ I ask, intrigued to hear about it from April’s perspective.
She swallows before she speaks. ‘I suggested that we’d be better off without her in our family.’
‘Why would you do that?’ I ask, shock and horror sliding through me at hearing that Maya hadn’t been exaggerating about April’s cruelty.
She looks over her shoulder, as if to check whether anyone is listening in, and when she sees that no one is she leans forward in her chair and places her hands on the table in front of her.
‘Because of her self-centred behaviour – before and after we lost my mother.’
‘What sort of behaviour?’
April lets out a beleaguered sigh. ‘Everything always has to be about her.’ She sits back in her chair again, her brow pinched into a frown.
‘My mother was supposed to be going on a skiing trip with a friend the week she died, but she had to take Maya with her instead because she’d been expelled from school. ’
‘Really? What was she expelled for?’
‘I don’t know. Knowing Maya, it will have been something to do with boys,’ April bites out.
I don’t react. Even though I instinctively want to defend Maya, my need to hear more about this wins out.
‘The worst thing was, my mother’s death could have been avoided, but she didn’t go to the hospital after her fall – I’m guessing because she didn’t want to leave Maya alone.’
She shifts in her chair and glances away.
I look down to see she’s twisted her fingers together so tightly they’re starting to turn white.
‘One of the hotel employees found her unconscious on the floor of their suite the morning after the accident – Maya was still passed out in bed after getting drunk the night before,’ she adds, looking back at me.
‘In the panic they didn’t realise Maya was there, and they arranged for my mother’s immediate transfer to the private hospital in a helicopter.
My father had to send one of my mother’s friends to go and get Maya and bring her home to England the next day. ’
‘The next day? And your father didn’t go for her himself?’ I ask, horrified to hear this.
‘No.’ She frowns at me. ‘I think he was too worried about my mother’s condition and didn’t want to leave her.’
‘But he didn’t mind leaving his fourteen-year-old daughter alone in another country, not knowing whether her mother was alive or dead?’ My voice is unsteady with dismay.
There’s a tense pause as April digests this, as if it’s never occurred to her before. ‘Yes, I guess so…’ she says slowly.
‘Jesus,’ I say, shaking my head.
That’s pretty fucked up. No wonder Maya thinks her father isn’t her greatest fan.
It occurs to me, in a flash of sickening insight, that Maya’s probably been using her wild behaviour as an escape from the horrifying belief that her family all blame her for her mother’s death.
The bottle of wine we’ve ordered arrives then, interrupting us, and we’re quiet for a moment as the waiter pours us both a glass.
‘I hadn’t heard about Maya’s involvement in your mother’s accident until very recently,’ I say to April once he’s walked away.
‘She told you about it?’ she asks sharply, apparently shocked by the idea of this.
I nod. ‘She mentioned it one day, when I asked her about your mother.’
‘Huh… I’m surprised. As far as I know she’s never uttered a word about it to anyone. She’s refused to speak to any of the counsellors I’ve set up appointments for her with over the years.’
‘Well, she’s proud and headstrong. I imagine implying there’s something wrong with her and then trying to force her to do something she doesn’t want to do would be counterproductive,’ I point out.
There’s no wonder Maya hates being around her sister if April’s constantly tried to pressure her into getting psychoanalysed. I can’t imagine that going down well with Maya at all.
‘Perhaps she just wants to bury the past so she can get on with her life?’ I suggest.
‘Yes, well, she’s been trying to do that for the last ten years. It’s clear from her headline-grabbing behaviour that something’s bound to give soon, though.’
Suddenly dropping her cutlery onto her plate, April lets out a small, surprisingly frustrated-sounding groan and puts her head in her hands.
‘Of course I regret what I said to her now. Of course I do. I know deep down it was just a horrible accident.’
‘But you blamed Maya for your mother’s death at the time?’ I prompt.
April sighs and runs a hand over her face. ‘It must have seemed like that to her back then, I suppose.’
She looks directly at me, her expression pleading.
‘But in my defence, I was in shock and grieving, and pretty na?ve at that point in my life. I was only twenty and I’d led a really sheltered life. My mother’s death turned my world upside down. It turned all our worlds upside down.’
The look in her eyes makes me think she’s asking me to exonerate her.
‘I know what I said was unforgivable, and I’ve tried so many times to say sorry and repair our relationship, but she shut me out that day and she’s never let me back in again. Anything I do or say – any interest I show in her life – she sees as meddling. So I’ve given up trying.’
I nod and politely look away as she blinks rapidly. She takes a breath before she speaks again.
‘My father was devastated after my mother died. He seemed to completely close down emotionally, so I ended up pretty much taking over as carer for my sisters once I’d graduated from university.’
She takes another long, audible breath.
‘One of the worst things about that time was that I was in love with a guy I’d got together with in my final year. Jamie de Montford…’ She tilts her head, as if asking whether I know him. ‘He’s a professional tennis player.’
I’ve heard of him – how could I not have? He’s a very successful sports personality – but I don’t know him personally, so I shake my head.
‘I’d hoped to carry on my relationship with him after graduating, but my father…
asked me’ – there’s an infinitesimal pause before the word ‘asked’, as if she’s struggling not to say something different – ‘to finish it with him, because apparently Jamie’s father had planned a hostile takeover of our company right after my mother’s death. ’
She pauses to take a big gulp of her wine.
‘The worst thing was, Jamie’s father and mine had been good friends since their school days.’ She takes another sip. ‘My father doesn’t take kindly to any kind of betrayal – especially not from people he thinks he can trust.’
Raising her eyebrows at me, she shakes her head as if in warning.
‘Cross my father once and you’ll never have the opportunity to do it again. He can be a hard bastard when he wants to be.’
She sighs, then waves a hand, as if annoyed with herself for deviating from her point.