Chapter Fifty
She opened the carrier bag with her tights, Cat’s little black dress and Cassie’s shoes in it, and examined the dress in the blade of moonlight that shone through the small side window. Chocolate mousse had got on the white Peter Pan collar.
‘Shit.’
The room smelled of washing power; Mr and Mrs Muller’s bedsheets billowed from drying lines across the ceiling in the dark, alongside the cloak that always hung there and no one seemed to own. A tumble drier whirred and offered warmth.
Emme put Cat’s dress and her tights in a washing machine drum with some liquid and thought about the chaos of the party.
Anastasia’s outburst. How cruelly she had looked at her sister.
About the screams when her husband punched Tristan.
The smash of all the glass as Emme went crashing underneath him in a heap.
She slammed the machine door to snap herself out of it but jumped when she saw a silhouette in the reflection of the washing machine door.
Emme gasped and turned around sharply.
Lexy was lingering in the doorway, leaning against the wooden frame, her arms folded. Her face was in the shadows. The suspended cloak looked like the grim reaper was watching them.
‘You made me ju—’ Emme was trying to brush off her scream.
‘You be careful Emmeline,’ Lexy said. Her voice was low and angry, at a pitch Emme hadn’t heard before.
Water started to rush into the drum, which made her think she must have misheard. Lexy Harrington sounded threatening.
‘What?’
‘That man is no good.’
Emme scrunched up the empty plastic bag with the broken shoes and pulled it across her body. The long sleeves of Tiago’s sweatshirt drowned her.
‘I thought you were family friends.’
Lexy wouldn’t know how Emme knew this; it seemed to have caught her off guard.
‘He was a sweet boy, but greed got the better of him.’
Emme knitted her eyebrows together.
‘Be wary of anyone who can break three hearts in one callous hit.’ Lexy said it like a teacher, as if she were telling Emme off.
Emme quickly turned on the wall light, a button that worked on a timer, and saw Lexy’s incandescent face illuminated. She looked Emme up and down, seemingly repulsed by the sight of her in a man’s clothes. Tristan’s, she probably assumed.
Emme stayed quiet, she felt as though Lexy was rage baiting her; that she was trying to get a reaction, and she didn’t want to give her one.
‘I saw you at the party. I saw him putting food in your mouth like you’re another plaything.’
Emme blushed.
Lexy sounded demented.
Emme wanted to get out of there but Lexy was blocking her in.
‘He’s dangerous!’ Lexy snapped.
‘Dangerous?’
Emme walked towards Lexy, hoping her boss would move out of the way and let her get upstairs so she could have a shower and go to bed.
‘And I don’t just mean with women,’ Lexy almost spat. ‘Google Tristan Joubert’s father, google Charles Joubert, and you might wonder what guilty secrets that boy holds.’
Emme finally broke.
‘Why are you bringing that up?’
The women stood staring at each other as the timed light went out, and the room fell into darkness again.
Lexy didn’t answer.
Emme felt claustrophobic, she had to get out of there, so she walked right up to Lexy, standing in the doorway and hoped she would let her pass.
The shard of moonlight now caught part of Lexy’s face, and Emme could see a flash in her eye that looked so angry, as if she were considering her next move, that Emme felt somewhat scared.
Lexy broke the impasse and moved to one side, to enable Emme to go upstairs, but Emme turned right, out of the laundry room and out of the front door – she had to find Cat or Tiago.
No, she had to see Tristan. She wanted to look him in the eye.
She wanted to touch his face. He was wounded and right now he had no one.
Wherever she went, she had to get the hell out and as far away as she could from Chalet Stern and Lexy Harrington’s fury.