Chapter 57
AMBER
At seven o’clock the next morning, I give up all pretence of sleep and, gritty-eyed and yawning, head to the kitchen to make myself a coffee.
On the way, I detour past the front door to see if our police guard is still in situ.
He is. The walls press in on me as I turn on my heel and tramp back down the hallway.
It seems crazy right now that this beautiful, elegant, luxurious villa feels more claustrophobic than a prison cell.
Demetriou claimed the security was for our own safety when it’s clearly just to make sure we stay put.
Is he even allowed to keep us cooped up here against our will? It’s not like he’s arrested anyone.
Yet, whispers the small voice in my head.
I feel antsy, like I’m waiting for the results of a hospital test or to sit an exam. Perhaps I could make up a family emergency and tell him I need to fly home? But as soon as the thought arrives, I reject it. Dominic’s probably already told him I don’t have any family.
I take my coffee out onto the terrace and peer over the wall to the villa below. The police tent has gone and – presumably – Felix’s body with it, and the site foreman and a handful of builders are standing in a huddle by the footings of the swimming pool.
‘Amber,’ says a familiar voice, and I jump a foot in the air, yelping when scalding coffee sloshes onto my hand.
Dominic’s eyebrows shoot up. ‘Quick, you should hold it under the cold tap.’ He takes the cup and guides me back inside. ‘There. At least five minutes,’ he instructs, turning the tap on. I feel an almost instant relief as the cold water hits my skin.
‘Better?’ he asks.
I nod.
‘Good. I’ll make you a fresh one.’
I stare at the water sluicing over my hand and swirling down the plughole, there one minute, gone the next. Is that how Dominic sees what happened with Simone the other night? Like something so big, so important, can just disappear? Because it feels very much like he’s pretending it never happened.
But I’m done with pretending. It’s time to rip off the plaster.
‘Dominic—’ I begin.
‘Look, I know you’re mad at me,’ he interrupts, as if reading my mind. ‘But nothing happened between Simone and me.’
‘So Demetriou’s lying, is he?’
Dominic’s gaze flickers down. ‘I didn’t say he was. We did spend the night together, but not how you think. When I got back to the villa after you stormed off, she was in a bad place. I didn’t think it was a good idea to leave her on her own.’
‘Of course you didn’t,’ I mutter.
He moves across to inspect my hand and, seemingly satisfied, turns off the tap and gives me a clean tea towel to wrap around it.
He motions me to take a seat at the kitchen table, and pulls out the chair opposite.
‘I told you before that she’s not as tough as she looks.
Sometimes, her mental health… well, it’s not great.
She’d just seen Felix hitting on you and she was pretty crushed. ’
I bristle. ‘That wasn’t my fault.’
‘No one’s saying it was. It’s not the first time it’s happened, that’s all. Felix and his indiscretions, I mean. Simone was at the end of her rope. I spent the night with her to make sure she didn’t do anything silly.’
My eyes widen. ‘You mean like—’
He holds my gaze and nods.
I drag my hands through my hair. ‘How do I know you’re telling the truth?’
He is quiet for a moment, then puffs out his cheeks and exhales.
‘Simone ended up in hospital at uni after downing a handful of pills with a bottle of vodka. I was the one who found her. I’m not joking, Amber, I thought she was dead.
’ A look of anguish crosses his face. ‘When I felt for a pulse I found one, faint but there. I called an ambulance and travelled with her to the hospital. They pumped her stomach and put her on a drip. The doctors said another half an hour might have been too late.’ He presses his lips together.
‘She swore it wasn’t a suicide attempt and that she was just trying to get to sleep – she’s always suffered from insomnia – and I told her I believed her. ’
I study his face: the bags under his bloodshot eyes and the fresh crop of wrinkles on his forehead, the slight tremble to his fingers and his agonised expression.
‘But you didn’t?’ I guess.
‘I didn’t.’
‘Why?’
He casts his eyes down. ‘Because it was my fault she did it.’
‘I don’t understand.’
He pinches the bridge of his nose. ‘Simone was my first serious girlfriend. She always used to joke that she knew I was the man she’d marry the moment she saw me in the library reading The Great Gatsby that day. But she wasn’t joking, not really.
‘We were inseparable that first year. It was… intense. Simone even came to stay at mine during the holidays because her parents were always jetting off around the world and she didn’t want to stay in an empty house on her own. Things were great. She was great. We were great.’
‘It sounds like a “but” is coming.’
He pulls an ‘is it that obvious?’ face. ‘In the second year I started getting… not cold feet exactly, but I was beginning to realise there was more to uni life than being one half of a couple. I’d always loved rugby at school and hadn’t realised how much I missed it.
Not just the game itself but the social side of it.
Rugby players really know how to enjoy themselves.
’ He smiles, but it’s the sad kind of smile when someone remembers a much-loved and long-dead pet.
‘When I went along to the uni’s rugby trials Simone had a complete meltdown.
She said it was because she was worried I’d get injured and pleaded with me not to join.
But I didn’t want to let the guys down and stood my ground. She didn’t speak to me for days.
‘Eventually, she came round and when I was picked for the first team she told everyone how proud she was of me. She came to every match and always cheered the loudest when we won. Life was good again. What I didn’t realise was that while I was playing matches and getting pissed with my mates, she was making five- and ten-year plans for our future. ’
‘You didn’t see it as a long-term thing?’
‘I was twenty-one, Amber. I wasn’t thinking beyond the next weekend. But Simone’s always been a planner. I think it stems from her childhood. The lack of control she had when she was growing up.’
‘The poor thing,’ I say sarcastically.
‘I know your childhood was much tougher than hers, but just because someone is born with privilege doesn’t mean things are easy. Simone said her dad was a workaholic and her mum was emotionally distant. What was it that poet said? “Your parents fuck you up”.’
He’s paraphrasing Philip Larkin’s famous poem, but I don’t bother to correct him. I’m more interested in Simone’s parents.
‘Have you ever met them?’
He shakes his head. ‘I was supposed to a few times but they always cancelled at the last minute. They’re estranged now. Simone always said her life began when she started at Durham.’
‘So when did it all go wrong between you?’ My voice is offhand, like I don’t give a damn, but I’m watching his reaction closely.
‘She wanted us to move to London together when we graduated, but it was too much too soon. The night I told her it wasn’t going to happen was the night she almost overdosed.’
‘That’s emotional blackmail!’ I explode.
‘Maybe. But I’ve felt guilty every day since.’ He raises his haunted eyes to mine. ‘So you see why I had to make sure she was all right the other night?’
‘I guess,’ I mutter, because what else can I say that doesn’t make me sound like some kind of unfeeling super-bitch?
‘Thank you.’ He places his palms on the table. ‘Want another coffee?’
‘OK.’
I digest everything he’s told me as he busies himself grinding more beans and warming the cafetière.
He’s still eaten up with guilt over Simone’s suicide attempt, because that’s clearly what it was.
No one downs pills and a whole bottle of vodka just to get to sleep.
The only reason you’d do that is if you didn’t plan on waking up.
It does at least explain the hold she seems to have over him.
Even if Dominic is telling the truth, it doesn’t solve my current problem – I’m screwed without an alibi.
Somewhere inside the villa the doorbell chimes.
‘Sounds like our friendly Greek inspector is back for another round of questioning,’ Dominic says, raising an eyebrow.
The thought sends an arrow of fear right through me.
‘He thinks it was me. That I killed Felix,’ I blurt. ‘They found my necklace by his body.’
‘What?’ Dominic freezes, his hand suspended in the air like it doesn’t belong to him.
‘You heard me, Dom. They found my amber necklace, the one you said was stolen, next to Felix. I might not have an alibi but I do have a motive. At least, Demetriou thinks so.’
I start to shake. I can’t help it. My chest is tight as I meet Dom’s gaze.
‘He thinks I murdered Felix.’