Chapter Fifty-One Holly
Chapter Fifty-One
HOLLY
I’m hiking up the beach in the soft warmth of the evening air when I hear an unexpected movement from near to one of the beach huts. My heart picks up as I turn in the starlight, tuning my ears against the lapping ocean for the sound.
‘Holly?’
I turn to see Adrianna, backgrounded by soft night and diamond-bright stars. She looks her usual million-dollar self, the glossy brown hair blown-out in soft waves, and an aqua print maxi-dress belted flatteringly to her curved torso. But her face is tense, beneath the dewy airbrushed make-up.
‘Cute flower.’ She nods to the bloom in my hair, and my fingers brush it self-consciously.
‘Thanks.’ I plumb my mind for the kind of charming thing Simone might say. ‘You look amazing,’ I tell her, opting for the truth, then regretting how blunt it sounds. To my surprise, her face breaks into a wide smile.
‘Thanks. I wasn’t sure the blow-out was OK for the beach.’
It’s strange to see her alone, I realize. ‘Where’s the entourage?’ I joke, with a half smile. To my great surprise, she lifts a manicured nail to her mouth, then drops it quickly, as if it’s a habit she’s breaking herself of.
‘I’m looking for Silky,’ she says. ‘Have you seen her?’
‘No,’ I say, sympathetically, since I’ve never seen Adrianna look so concerned. ‘She seemed … sick. Do you think she’s OK?’
Adrianna’s close-set blue eyes range my face for a moment, like she can’t decide if I’ve said the wrong thing.
‘I’m sure Silky’s fine,’ she mutters finally. ‘Maybe she’s already at the beach bar.’
Huge flaming torches light up the edges as we take the sandy path. ‘When the sun’s up, this is Daybreak, our detox bar,’ explains Adrianna. ‘Smoothies, raw foods. Vitamin drips brought right to your hammock, as you look out on the waves. Cool, huh?’
‘Um. Yeah.’ I try to channel the appropriate response. ‘Very cool.’
‘But at night, it’s where you get your aperitif cocktail before partying at the Fortune House.’
The intoxicating scent of barbecue hits the air.
‘That smells so good,’ I say, my mouth watering.
‘They must have begun cooking the food for the photoshoot already,’ agrees Adrianna, distractedly. Her eyes are roaming the horizon.
Among the torches, Turkish rugs and Thai cushions are laid on the cooling sand. We can just make out Ophelia in an open-backed green sequin jumpsuit, and long-legged Petra, in a silver dress, lounging with cocktails. Even at this distance, their body language is noticeably awkward.
‘Silky’s not here,’ says Adrianna, her voice thick with disappointment.
‘Why would she go off alone?’ I ask.
Adrianna’s eyes flick to the flower in my hair, and then down to the ring on my finger.
‘You might as well know,’ she decides. ‘Silky is into drugs. She got into heroin a couple of years ago. Went to rehab, but … it didn’t stick. We’re kind of used to her skipping out.’
‘That would explain a lot.’ I turn this over, fitting it. ‘Could Silky have gone to the Bell Tower?’ I heard that part of your birthday celebrations were held there,’ I add, in response to her surprised expression. ‘Thought she might be reminiscing.’
‘Oh.’ Her face tightens, as if deciding what to say.
‘Well, I guess the older part of the island isn’t really a secret,’ she says finally.
‘Margaret Kensington started the school out here. Back in the 1950s or something. An education for proper young ladies.’ She nods her head as if remembering it word for word.
‘Elysium events often have … reminders … of that heritage.’
‘Simone mentioned a game of Truth or Dare,’ I try.
‘Simone?’ Now Adrianna looks genuinely shocked. ‘Oh.’ She looks thoughtful. ‘Well, I guess. Silky was trying to get Simone to look over her court case. She never gives up.’ She sighs. ‘Silky dared me to testify. Stand up against the school. I guess that’s how Simone knew about that game.’
‘You didn’t testify?’
‘Well, no. I mean I would have, but the court case was two days after my birthday party.’
She waits for the meaning to sink in.
Adrianna agreed to testify against Kensington Manor School at her birthday party. Then she was kidnapped.
‘Poor Silks,’ says Adrianna sadly. ‘We all let her down. It was awful. School was OK if you were strong, I guess. But Silky wasn’t.
Little kids that age, they wet their pants, they get sick.
They poop in places they shouldn’t. And they’re all sad and terrified.
In my dorm there was a girl who …’ she hesitates.
‘Never mind,’ she mutters. ‘But Silky never could forget all that stuff. Some stupid therapist told her to draw it all out and she never stopped.’
Silky’s sketchbook pops back into my mind. I wonder if Fitzwilliam has managed to locate it while we’re all distracted with the barbecue.
I shake my head slowly, feeling suddenly grateful for my crazy mom, and the colorful neighbours in our Lower-East walk-up.
Adrianna shakes her head. ‘Then with what Petra did to her …’ Her usual perfect mask has dropped. Her eyes are red and her mouth misshapen. But as we reach the beach bar, Adrianna’s vulnerable softness drops away and the confident society queen takes her place.
‘I like to think of my life as a movie,’ she tells me, adjusting her hair as she takes in the stagey composition of her bridesmaids.
‘The rape threats, the stalkers, the fact I need security to wait outside the bathroom when I go out in public. That’s just the jeopardy the heroine needs for the audience to care, but we all know she’s going to marry her Prince Charming in the end. ’
She produces her cell, and flicks to a picture of herself holding a champagne glass aloft, head thrown back, laughing. The bridesmaids smile in the background. I’m in the shot, I realize with shock. You’d honestly think I was enjoying myself.
‘This is the real me,’ continues Adrianna. ‘And no one can touch it.’
I suddenly feel so sorry for Adrianna, I want to wrap my arms around her. Beneath the glossy facade, she’s so childlike and uncertain. And as Petra’s vulpine expression comes into view, I can’t help but feel afraid for her.
‘Who wants to hit the club?’ says Adrianna in an upbeat tone. ‘Fortune House is open all night.’
‘Dri, are you sure?’ Ophelia looks concerned. ‘You must be exhausted. And we’ve only just got the beach photoshoot set up.’
For a moment Adrianna’s face flickers, and an expression of glassy-eyed fatigue registers and is gone.
‘Let’s just ditch it,’ she says. ‘We’ve got enough pictures to work. Maybe Silky is there. Besides, tonight is the only chance we have for club photography and the sponsors need their pictures. Best we look fresh-faced.’
They all stand to leave, and my anxiety rises with them. Fitzwilliam won’t be expecting anyone to arrive at Fortune House so soon. If he’s caught snooping …
‘I’ll catch up with you later,’ I announce. ‘Just remembered I need to retouch my make-up.’
‘She’s only just realized,’ I hear Ophelia mutter as I head back down the beach at speed. ‘You need to retouch make-up?’