Chapter Thirty-One #2
Rose sees Grazia’s jaw quiver. She can’t back out now.
‘Bernard, has Grazia ever discussed this with you before? In the privacy of your own home?’
‘I can’t say, possibly: I don’t really remember,’ he blusters.
‘Really?’
She adjusts her position so she’s sitting as upright as possible in her throne chair.
She’s about to break all the rules but it’s the right thing to do, she’s sure of it.
‘You’re lying, Bernard,’ she says quietly. ‘Lying. Grazia has asked you repeatedly not to visit S she knew it.
‘Can we do a segment called “Fix It in Fifteen”?’ one of the producers had asked only the other day.
‘I can see it: a mini part of the show in between the actual family you’re working with.
Show them, discuss their problems, then cut to fix-it-in-fifteen, then back to the original family. You think?’
‘I don’t think,’ Rose had said, shocked.
What was wrong with these people? Couldn’t they see that the guests were becoming increasingly unstable, that this was the type of person the show was now attracting?
Suddenly she felt very alone, out on her own with nobody at her back.
Theo had been the first person who’d ever been stronger than she was and who was totally behind her.
She’d been the strong one for Adriana.
Theo had been the strong one for her.
After a series of altercations outside the studio, the number of security guards on the door was doubled on the show.
‘It’s fine, it’s all safe,’ the executive producer had said. ‘We’re taking this very seriously.’
Rose took this with a pinch of salt.
The studio only cared about ratings.
So that final day when Rose is talking about hair products with Denise, she is only half-listening to the stylist, and half-listening to the noise from the studio, metres away.
Theo had predicted something would go wrong. She knows he’s right. She thrums with low-level anxiety.
The gunshots were unmistakable.
A suspended moment of Is that what I think it is?
Denise throws herself on the ground but Rose is frozen in her seat.
‘It’s all her fault,’ a man is screaming so loudly that he’s heard above all the noise.
Rose knows exactly who he’s talking about.
It’s her.
Theo was right: she’s about to lose everything.
Her ego, her hubris have brought her here.
It’s a miracle only the shooter himself is hurt. Another miracle that he isn’t actually killed, merely receiving a shoulder wound.
So many miracles that Rose knows her time is up: she has to get out of there.
When Rose walks back onto the terrace, only Dianne is sitting there. She looks tired and old.
Rose finds it hard to pull herself out of her own worries to run the retreat, but she has to.
‘Talk to me, Dianne,’ says Rose encouragingly, as Dan collapses into a chair nearby, Keera and India trailing behind him, hot and tired.
‘I can’t,’ says Dianne. ‘I would love to but I really, really can’t. Not here …’
She stares Rose in the face for a full minute.
Rose gets it.
‘I know this is a group but I think perhaps Dianne and I need to speak alone—’ she says.
‘But no—’ interrupts Dan, who obviously wants to hear all. He’s exposed his pain and everyone else should too.
‘Read the room, Dan,’ says Keera crossly.
Dan slumps. India leans over and kisses him on the cheek.
‘Baby steps, Dan,’ she says. ‘Baby steps.’
Rose gets to her feet and leads Dianne away.
Where can they go, Rose wonders wearily. Not her bedroom but then not Dianne’s either.
They walk inside, Dianne following meekly, and Rose catches sight of Adriana striding down the corridor.
‘Adriana!’ she calls and explains the situation.
Adriana’s lovely face is creased with worry for her sister.
‘The third therapy room in the spa is free. It has a couch too. Are you OK to do this?’ she adds in a whisper.
Rose nods. ‘It’s going to be fine,’ she says and then realises she’s lying to her sister again.
She knows Dianne’s secrets since she found the notebook again. Dianne couldn’t help writing in it and then, in an act of self-sabotage, she threw it out the window again.
Adriana brings them homemade lemonade and a pot of Magic Tea which is Rose’s favourite from the tea shop in Xanthe.
Dianne sits on the couch with her glass of lemonade but doesn’t drink.
‘That tea smells vile,’ she says.
‘Yeah, but it works,’ Rose says. She pours a little out to see if it’s brewed yet. ‘I found your notebook, by the way,’ she adds.
Dianne nods.
‘I hoped you would. I didn’t know if I could tell you it all – I thought it might break me, to be honest.’
‘It won’t break you,’ Rose says calmly. ‘We have all the time in the world to talk, Dianne.’