Chapter Twenty-Five
Twenty-five
We left for Cornwall in the first week of the summer holidays. Marcie and I packed in silence, fueled by loathing. She kept up the pretense in front of our parents. I did not. Something inside me was broken beyond repair.
Mum and Dad tried to draw us into conversation on the way down. I stared pointedly out the window as Marcie chattered away. I tried to tune her out, particularly when she spoke about Billy.
My parents liked him. She’d invited him over for dinner a couple of weeks before, and I’d absented myself from the table. I had to put up with them groping each other in the school hallways. I shouldn’t have to endure it in my own home as well.
“It’s a shame Iris didn’t join us,” I heard Dad say when I slipped down the stairs for a glass of water after Billy had left.
There was a long pause. “She’s probably jealous,” Mum replied eventually. “She’s always struggled to make friends, let alone get a boyfriend.”
Dad gave a noncommittal grunt. “Must be hard for her,” he said. “To see Marcie so happy.”
“Well, she’s not exactly hiding her mood, is she?”
Mum was right. I couldn’t hide it. The darkness that enveloped me as I watched Marcie hand over my drawing had prevailed. I was no longer amenable. I found issue with everything.
The drive was long. Soon, concrete turned to hedges, then hedges to drystone walls. The sea appeared on the horizon. I remember feeling very small.
The hotel was run-down but nice enough. Naturally, Marcie and I were sharing a room.
Always forced to share, even when there wasn’t ever enough for two.
I set my suitcase down on the purple patterned carpet and began to unpack.
Neatly, as I had all those years ago in our grandparents’ attic.
Marcie sat on the bed, texting. She hadn’t silenced her phone.
The incessant tapping noise set my teeth on edge.
We had lunch at the hotel. I picked at a soggy fish-and-chips and left most of it.
“I just don’t know how I’m going to do a week away from him,” Marcie said to Mum.
“Do you want to come with me and see what’s in the rock pools?” Dad turned to me, lowering his voice like we were coconspirators. We were not coconspirators. I no longer trusted him. Not after he betrayed me.
“No, thanks.”
I was forced to accompany them down to the beach anyway. Marcie linked her arm through Mum’s as we navigated the craggy coastal path. To our right, the cliff fell away into a steep drop. The sea stretched into the horizon. I could see the tiny white sail of a boat.
The beach was not as picturesque as Mum had made it sound. Seaweed tangled with blue plastic netting had washed onto the shingle. Mum spread four towels out. I sat on one and wished I’d brought a book, or something to signal that I wasn’t keen to be drawn into conversation.
Dad went to look in the rock pools anyway. Mum and Marcie chatted about Billy. Each time they spoke his name, a small electric jolt traveled through me. Even after everything that had happened.
The boys arrived in the late afternoon. There were three of them. Tall, muscular, tanned, they carried that air of people who had never wanted for anything. They clocked Marcie instantly and flexed their sinewy muscles.
Marcie had seen them, too. I could tell from the way she adjusted herself.
The way she subtly moved away from Mum so that she could no longer run her hand through her hair.
She leaned back so that her stomach was flat and taut.
Periodically, her eyes flicked toward the newcomers, who were playing with a Frisbee not far from us.
As the sun bled orange, Mum got up to find Dad. The boys approached instantly. Marcie smiled with her tongue pressed to the roof of her mouth. Her jawline had never looked better.
Two of the three clamored to take the towels next to her. The other—amazingly—did not seem drawn to her in quite the same way. He pointed to the space on the towel next to me. “Can I sit there?”
I shrugged but moved aside for him anyway.
“Have you been here for long?” he asked.
I threw a rock toward the sea. “We arrived this morning.”
“I love it down here. We come every summer.” He smiled contentedly, and I noticed he had a nice face. Kind eyes. A lovely smile. The thick black cloud that had been roiling inside me dissipated somewhat. I found myself smiling back.
Marcie glanced in our direction. A tiny line appeared between her brows. Her bottom lip jutted. I ignored her.
“What’s your name?”
“Josh.”
“I’m Iris.” I held out my hand and he took it. It was large and warm. My stomach somersaulted.
It was easy to talk to Josh. He liked surfing and spoke at length about wave height. I found it didn’t matter that I didn’t understand what he was talking about. I liked listening to him. He went to a private school just outside of London. He made me feel normal.
When it was time to leave, he touched me again. Just lightly, on the arm. “Can I get your number? Maybe we’ll see you around later? I think we’re having a bonfire down here.”
It was the first time a boy had ever asked for my number. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Marcie’s lower lip jut again. I straightened my back and smiled at him with my tongue pressed to the roof of my mouth. “Of course,” I said, and I typed it into his phone.
I couldn’t read Marcie’s expression on the walk back up the hill, and I didn’t bother asking. It was the first time someone had shown interest in me, and right in front of her, and it felt glorious.
She was not herself at dinner, either. She was quiet. Sullen. I found myself taking up the mantle, talking for the first time in weeks.
Mum threw anxious glances across the table at her. “It’s OK,” she said. “Maybe Billy can come with us on the next holiday. Would you like that?” Marcie shrugged.
I was tired by the time we retreated upstairs. Josh texted as we arrived back at our room. Hey, it’s Josh. We’re going down to the beach now if you want to come?
I started to reply, but Marcie caught me looking at my phone.
“Did he text?” she asked bluntly. I nodded.
“You’re not thinking of going, are you? God, that’s a bit desperate.
You shouldn’t make yourself seem too available.
” And she turned her back on me. I did want to go.
Badly. But her words had sown a seed of doubt.
I backspaced on my acceptance and typed I can’t tonight. But maybe see you tomorrow?
He didn’t reply.
I slept well for the first time in weeks, but, when I woke, Marcie was not in the twin bed across from me. I checked the loo. She wasn’t there, either. For some reason, the sight of those rumpled sheets sent a cold slug of dread through me. I felt them. They were cool to the touch.
She came into the room as I was stepping out of the shower. Her cheeks were pink, her hair mussed. She was dressed already.
“Where’ve you been?” I said, and it was the most direct question I’d aimed at her for a long time.
“Out. I went for a walk.”
“At seven in the morning?”
She shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep. What’s it to you, anyway?”
I didn’t reply. I dressed in silence, and we went down to breakfast as a pair, as though there wasn’t a simmering chasm of mistrust and dislike between us.
I texted Josh after breakfast. He still hadn’t replied to my message yesterday, and I felt yet another pang of unease that I couldn’t identify. He didn’t reply to this one, either.
I followed Marcie down to the beach again and we settled ourselves on towels.
I’d brought my book this time, but I couldn’t concentrate on the words.
I kept an eye on the cliff path, hoping to see Josh picking his way down.
Just after midday, he and his friends appeared, yawning.
They jostled one another when they saw us and came straight over.
A hard knot of nerves formed in my stomach.
“Big night,” the tallest one said, elbowing Josh. “How’re you feeling this morning, Marcie?” He winked at her.
I sat up and looked between them. My stomach was tight.
“Pretty hungover,” Marcie replied.
“What?” My voice didn’t sound like my own.
Marcie drew a line in the sand with her finger. “I came down for the bonfire last night. You were asleep.”
“Did something happen?”
“Ask Josh.” The tall one winked again.
“What about Billy?” I said.
“Who’s Billy?” Josh frowned.
“No one,” Marcie said.
“Marcie’s boyfriend.” I stared at her. This was a new low, even for her. Fresh loathing boiled.
Marcie went red. “It’s not that serious.”
Before I knew what was happening, I was on my feet, strangled words whipping in the wind. “Not serious? Are you joking? You’ve been all over each other for months.”
I couldn’t stand to be in her presence for a second longer. I felt myself cracking. The darkness that had dissipated yesterday was creeping back in. I wanted to hurt her. I wanted to scratch at her eyes. I couldn’t breathe. I gathered my towel and walked away, back toward the path.
“Don’t worry.” I heard Marcie’s soothing tone. “She’s always been jealous of me.”
The injustice choked me.
I couldn’t settle. I paced our bedroom. I would ruin her, just as she had ruined me.
She appeared fifteen minutes later with fury flashing in her eyes. “What the fuck did you do that for?”
I laughed in her face. She couldn’t touch me now. “Do what? Tell the truth? It’s about time someone did, don’t you think?”
“God you’re predictable. You can’t stand it, can you? You can’t stand that I’m prettier than you, smarter than you, more popular than you. You can’t stand that Mum and Dad like me more. Always so jealous, Iris. Always so predictable.”
“I’m not listening to this.” I gathered my things. I was shaking.
“That’s right. Run away. Skulk in your little corner.”
“I’m not running away. I’m going to tell those boys the truth. About who you really are, underneath it all.”
She didn’t have a chance to stop me before I slammed out of the room.
She caught up with me just as I reached the cliff path. I swung round. “Just leave me the fuck alone!” I screamed, but my words were ripped away from me by the wind. Clouds were rolling in, thick and black. I felt a raindrop. “Why can’t you just let me have something for myself?”
I was at the path now. It carved a crevice in the rock to my left. The cliff face yawned to my right. Marcie took a step toward me. She was so close to the edge she disturbed a rock, which bounced all the way down. I thought about warning her, but the words wouldn’t come.
“Because it’s just so easy. You make it so easy to hate you.
I know you still like Billy, even after all this time.
But do you know what he told me the other day?
He said he felt sorry for you. Even though he thinks you’re weird.
Even though you’re too intense. He said he could sense your tortured soul.
I told him he was giving you too much credit. ”
It happened in the blink of an eye. I didn’t think as I took a step toward her, fury coursing through me. As Marcie took a step back, wanting to put distance between us.
She didn’t have time to cry out.
In a scatter of loose shingle, Marcie was gone.