Biarritz Passion: A French Summer Novel (32 page)

Surely she must be almost there? She forced herself to concentrate. Images of Annabel kept intruding, Annabel lying in a bath, the water bloodstained… her sister
had seemed crazy enough the other night. She remembered the look on her face as she had taunted Julian that last evening, and shivered.

Rue Jacob.
She hit the brakes. The car behind her almost rear-ended her. There was another concerto of klaxons as she turned. A woman with an umbrella was hurrying past.

‘
Madame! S’il vous plait
!’

The woman hesitated
, struck by the urgency in Caroline’s voice.

Yes, she told Caroline,
rue Sebastopol.
Near the top of the hill. A narrow street, on the right.

Crawling along, peering through the blurred windscreen, she became aware of the buildings lining the street. Dingy facades, peeling paintwork. Shuttered shops with refuse piled up in the doorway. A neon sign flickered.
Hotel Vic-o-ia. Trying to find a parking spot she slammed the car into an overflowing garbage can half hanging off the pavement.

Before she could try the door, it opened. The woman must have been watching for her. She was dressed in a blue smock, the sort of thing that
cleaners wore. She led Caroline inside, her feet slapping on the tiles of the entryway. She was wearing an old pair of espadrilles with the back trodden down. Her hair was cut short, dyed a midnight black. The face underneath was hard, thin-lipped suspicious. It was the women she had spoken to on the phone. As soon as she started talking, pouring out a torrent of words in a shrill nasal voice with strong Basque accent, Caroline recognised her. She heard the words ‘doctor’ ‘medication’ and ‘money’ repeated several times. They began to climb the old wooden staircase, its metal handrail missing several bars. Caroline just had time to take in the pitted plaster on the walls before the small of urine and dirt struck her like a slap in the face.

They climbed to the second floor. A door banged shut further down the corridor and someone started coughing and retching. The woman took out a key and unlocked the door. Caroline felt suddenly faint. On shaky legs, she stepped inside the dingy room, where the grey light from the window and the sickly glare of an unshaded light bulb fought for predominance.
In a bed to the right of the door, lay an inert form. Caroline hurried over, then stopped. Her sister’s eyes were closed, her face pale and shiny with sweat. The normally golden curls lay in a bedraggled heap on the pillow.

‘
Merci Madame
. I’ll speak to my sister alone.’

Caroline opened her bag, took out some notes and thrust them at the woman who quickly began to count. Caroline held out her hand.

‘
Donnez- moi la clef s’il vous plaît
.’

The woman stopped counting, surprised by the firmness of her tone, and the imperious look in her eyes. She shrugged, handed over the key, and muttered something about waiting downstairs.

Caroline took a deep breath. She must not flinch now. She needed to keep her wits, to get her sister out of this room, this room where she had been locked in, like a prisoner!

Annabel looked to be asleep. Her hands lay on the counterpane,
unmoving. On the small table near the bed stood a glass of water and a bottle of pills. Caroline picked them up, thought she recognised the name of an antibiotic. She looked around her, appalled.

The wallpaper was faded and stained.
Grey linoleum covered the floor, cracked at the joins. The small window was facing what looked like a disused factory. She let the net curtain fall back, rubbing her hands on her jeans. It was black with grime along the hem. In one corner stood a cracked washbasin, with a tap dripping rusty brown water. She couldn’t believe her eyes, couldn’t believe such places still existed, here in France, in the 21
st
century.

On a chair next to the washbasin was a pile of clothes. She recognised them as the ones that Annabel had been wearing on Tuesday night. A handbag hung over the back, zip open. The little Gucci handbag. A deep shudder ran through Caroline’s body. How on earth had her sister ended up in such a place? And why hadn’t she phoned?

‘Caro?’ The voice that came from the bed was faint, and desperate. She turned. Annabel’s eyes were open, enormous in the pale face.

‘Annabel!’ Caroline crouched down and took her sister’s hand. ‘Are you alright? What happened to you? We’ve been worried sick, and Julian’s still…’ she checked herself. ‘Just tell me what happened.
’

‘The d
octor said it was a bug I think…I didn’t really understand. I don’t remember everything.’

Tears began to spill out of the sides of Annabel’s eyes, soaking into the thin grey pillow.

‘But when did it happen? And how did you get here?’

The tears flowed more freely and Annabel turned her head into the pillow. Caroline had difficulty catching the muffled words.

‘I was so ashamed. I just ran away. I ran out of the park. But I didn’t know where to go. And then this, this guy on a scooter pulled up. He asked where I was going, offered me a lift, I told him the port, I thought I could find Liam, stay with him for the night.’

‘Oh my God.’

Caroline closed her eyes.

‘What did he do? Annabel, are you alright?’

Her sister sniffled.

‘I didn’t know where we were going,
he was driving so fast, shouting things. I knew I’d made a mistake, I just didn’t know how to get out of it, I was panicking, and then he stopped and dragged me inside this café, there was a whole bunch of them, drinking and playing table football. I just remember having a couple of drinks with them, I was petrified, just wanted to keep them in a good mood, they were laughing, but it was scary, they were all looking at me like...’

She shuddered.

‘I didn’t know how to get out of the situation.’

She paused, then turned her head to look at her sister.

‘Oh Caro. I’ve been an idiot. It was a dive. They were...I saw one of them take out a knife. The others were just laughing and looking. I really thought I’d had it.’

Her
voice was rising hysterically, her tears redoubled.

Caroline, too shocked to speak, squeezed her sister’s hand, brushed back her matted hair.

‘I said I needed the loo. It was in the back. There was another door next to it. I pushed it open, there was an alleyway and I ran. I ran and ran, but everything looked the same, the streets were all dark and everything was closed. There were no taxis, I daren’t stop a car. Then I saw this place, the sign…’

She took a deep breath.

‘It was locked, but I banged on the door, and the woman came… she said I could have a room if I paid her first. I just wanted somewhere to hide for the night, I thought if I could wait till it was light…but the next morning I couldn’t stand up, my head was hurting, I felt sick. The woman came. She asked if I had some more money and said she’d call the doctor.’

There was a silence, then Annabel said faintly

‘Is Julian...is he alright?’

‘Yes.
He’s in hospital, but they’re letting him out today.’

Oh God
, she thought, he’ll be back at the villa, no-one knows where I am! She grabbed her bag, she had to phone them.

‘Damn damn damn.’

She must have left the phone in the car, she’d had it next to her, in case they called. She wondered if it would still be there when they left.

When they left. She had to get Annabel out of this
place, that was the first priority. She had a feeling of dread, as though the woman might come back, with somebody else, might try to threaten them both.

She let go of Annabel’s hand and rushed to lock the door.

‘I’m so so sorry!’

Sobs were shaking Annabel’s thin back. Caroline felt a sudden wave of pity for her sister, her silly, infuriating
, impossible little sister. She had brought trouble to them all, had brought chaos to their lives, like a tornado damaging everything in its path. But when she thought of what else might have happened her blood ran cold.

‘Oh Caro, when I saw him fall, and all that blood, I thought...I thought...’

Annabel was
crying harder, clutching at her hand.

Caroline tried to focus.

‘Do you think you can stand up, Annabel? We have to get out of here.’

Her sister was nodding and gulping.

‘Oh yes, please get me out of here Caro. I never—there were insects, cockroaches I think, running up the walls. I thought I was hallucinating. I had to go to the loo, it was, it’s at the end of the corridor, I didn’t think I’d make it. And when I opened the door, it was filthy, I—’

She
broke off, closed her eyes.

‘There are people staying here, the sounds, you wouldn’t believe the sounds, people crying and shouting, sometimes laughing. All night long.
’

‘But how did you get out? I thought you were locked in?’

‘No, she left the key at first. But I shoved the chair against the door as well, I heard somebody try the handle. It was like a nightmare. It was just today, when she thought I was getting better, she took it away, must have thought I’d try to do a bunk.’

She was
gripping Caroline’s hand so tightly she winced with the pain.

‘Let me get your clothes.’

Annabel struggled to stand.

‘The landlady
brought me this nightie, I gave her some money, all I had left, she’s not too bad, she brought me soap and a comb.’

‘Why didn’t you phone?’

Caroline was looking through her sister’s bag.

‘Gone
. I don’t know if those men took it, or I dropped it or what. I told the landlady your number this morning, I was feeling a bit better, I asked her to ring, told her you’d take care of things, I was so frightened. I was worried she’d call the police, I had no ID with me when I arrived, I gave her a false name, I was just grateful she let me in.’

Privately Caroline thought the last thing the landlady would do was call the police. This place was probably a brothel. Or worse.

She was helping Annabel to dress, trying to get her clothes on as fast as possible. Her sister kept having to sit down, panting with effort.

‘Are you OK? Do you think you can get down the stairs?’

Trying not to make any noise, Caroline unlocked the door and took a look into the corridor. There was no one about.

‘Come on.’

Praying that nothing else would happen she managed to get her sister out of the room. Annabel held the rail with one hand, and Caroline put her arm round her waist. Slowly they made it to the ground floor.

‘
Ah, vous voilà’
.

The
patronne
was waiting in the vestibule, her expression hovering between fake sympathy and hard determination.

She stepped in front of them, blocking the door. Gesturing extravagantly she started on again about the doctor, the expense, the problems with the police. Her face took on the
look of a pious Good Samaritan who had done her best to help.

Caroline listened in stony silence. She felt like arguing with the woman, but Annabel was pulling at her arm.

‘Let’s go, please, let’s go.’

The woman was still blocking the door. Furiously, Caroline opened her bag and shoved another couple of notes in her face.

‘
Maintenant ça suffit!
Now get out of my way,’ she said with as much menace as she could muster, ‘or I shall be calling the police myself!’

The landlady drew herself up to her full height and glared.

Finally
she stepped aside.

But as Caroline struggled to open the door and help her sister at the same time, the woman leaned forward and hissed in her ear.

Caroline stopped, a look of incomprehension on her face.

‘
Oui Madame!
’ the woman nodded her head self-righteously. ‘You heard. Pregnant. Your sister is pregnant. Thanks to me she didn’t lose the baby.’

She gave a smile as acid as a lemon drop.

‘How do you feel now?’

Caroline watched her sister sip the hot sweet tea.
The colour had come back into her cheeks and she was looking remarkably well after her ordeal. She was bathed, in a clean nightdress, propped up in bed against a mound of pillows. The rain of yesterday had gone and the window was slightly open letting in the smell of fresh pine trees.

‘Thank you Caro. For
getting me. That awful, awful place.’

The tears were ready to spill over again.

‘That’s OK darling, don’t worry about anything except getting better. You’re back now.’

She sat down on a chair near the bed, wondering if this was a good time to talk.

‘Annabel.’

Her sister paused in mid sip, looking at her warily.

‘The woman at the hotel, she said something to me. As we were leaving.’

She was having trouble with her voice. Annabel tensed. Caroline felt as though she was
walking on eggshells. The last thing she needed was to set her sister off again. But she wanted to speak to her while they were alone. Julian was back at the hospital, just for a check up, he’d started getting head pains yesterday evening. Not surprising, she thought, they had all looked like their heads were going to come off.

It had been a nightmare return
. She’d called Edward from the car, he was frantic, the police had found Annabel’s phone in some bushes in a park in Bayonne, he’d been trying to reach Caroline. She explained as best she could, just the bare details, driving with one hand, glancing into the mirror to check there were no police controls. Her mind was still trying to process everything, the sinister hotel, her sister’s state, and the woman’s last venomous words. When they finally arrived at the villa she had thought that Julian was going to have a relapse, he was as white as a sheet. It was a toss up which of the two of them, Annabel or Julian, looked the worse. As for the rest of them, well, it was difficult to believe they were on holiday, supposedly relaxing and having a good time.

She pushed the memory of yesterday to the back of her mind. There was no way of knowing if she’d get another opportunity to speak to her sister on her own. She had to broach the subject now.

‘
She told me you were pregnant.’

Annabel put dow
n the cup with a clatter.

‘She
—she doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Pregnant!’

‘Annabel. Look at me.’

She reached out and took her hand.

At first Annabel refused to turn her head. She was breathing quickly, her nightdress rising and falling. Finally she seemed to come to a decision.

‘I’m getting rid of it. I have an appointment. The week after we get back.’

Caroline let her hand drop in shock.

‘You can’t make me change my mind. None of you can. I
t’s my body, my decision. I’m twenty-two, there’s no way I’m going to start looking after babies and changing nappies.’

‘
But it’s...have you discussed it with Julian? Does he agree?’

‘It doesn’t matter whether he agrees or not.
’ She glared at her sister. ‘Of course he doesn’t agree. What do you think all these bloody rows have been about? First the German thing, then this, this—’

She gestured angrily
in the direction of her stomach.

‘
The damn thing’s taken me over. Can’t have a drink without Julian screaming bloody murder. My hormones are all over the place, half the time I don’t know whether to laugh or cry, it’s like an alien. I’ll be glad when it’s all finished.’

Caroline had sunk back in the chair.

On one level her sister was right; the rational part of her brain told her that. It was Annabel’s body, Annabel’s choice. Right, too, that she was young. Not just in age, but more to the point, in maturity. How would she ever manage to look after a baby? Annabel, who couldn’t even use an electric tin opener. A bell rang in Caroline’s head as things fell into place. The registry office wedding, the way that Julian had been fussing around his fiancée like an anxious parent, the mention of the flat, the maid. And doubtless, later on, the nanny. Poor Julian. He must be dying for Annabel to have this baby. Caroline felt a sympathetic pang. She understood. In all her fantasies about finding a new partner, someone older, calmer, a sort of father figure, there had always been a hitch. What about children? She would love a baby. Love to have had a baby, even with Liam, despite how it had all ended. She had imagined the guest room transformed into a nursery, mobiles hanging above the cot. She had imagined cuddling the baby in her arms, kissing that sweet-smelling soft bit on top of the downy head.

‘You won’t talk me out of it. In any case, Edward agrees.’

‘Edward?’ She was having difficulty focusing, there were so many thoughts going round in her tired brain.

‘Yes. He knows all about it, thinks it’s a bad idea
to have it.’

‘But why? He’s Julian’s best friend!’

Annabel shrugged.

‘Even best friends don’t always agree.’

She looked at Caroline under her lashes.

‘
He doesn’t think Julian and I are suited.’

‘What?’

Annabel shrugged.

‘We’ve talked about it, lots. I’ve been coming to the same conclusion myself, so many things have happened.’

‘But Julian, he’ll be devastated. He loves you so much.’

‘Life can be tough.
He’ll get over it. Look at you and Liam.’

‘But what will you do? You’re so dependent on Julian, he does everything for you!’

The words were out of her mouth before she could think.

Annabel tossed her curls.

‘I do have a job. And a flat.’

Which you’re never in, thought Caroline, as you much prefer living in Julian’s high-rise in the Docklands. But hadn’t she herself been
thinking along the same lines about her sister’s relationship? That it would be kinder to Julian in the long run if he and Annabel were no longer together? Always arguing, always at loggerheads. Of course, she now realised, there was yet another reason for their ongoing conflict. The baby.

‘When’s your appointment?’

‘The week after we get back.’

‘Is anyone going with you?’

Annabel shrugged

‘Not Julian, obviously.
’

‘If you want, I mean, if you’re absolutely sure, then I can take
time off work, if you’ve nobody else to go with. But do think about it Annabel. A baby...’

Annabel threw back her head in exasperation.

‘Yes, a baby! A twenty-four-hour, 365-days-a-year-baby! A baby that cries all night, that needs its smelly nappies changing, that’s constantly wailing to be fed! I’m twenty-two years old! My whole life ahead of me! What am I going to do with a baby if Edward and I—’

She stopped abruptly.

Caroline felt a cold chill run right through her.

‘Edward and you?’

Annabel shrugged.

‘
I don’t want to talk about it yet. It’s complicated. It’s mainly just been talk up to now. Discussing how to do things. But one thing’s clear, he doesn’t want a baby.’

‘But what has Edward
...he’s Julian’s best friend, what are you telling me? What do you mean he doesn’t want a baby?’

Her thoughts were
darting about, she was trying to make sense of Annabel’s words. A dreadful idea shot into her mind, she felt her stomach lurch.

‘It’s not
—you’re not telling me, Annabel, for God’s sake! Is it Edward’s? Is that what you’re saying? The baby is Edward’s?’

Several emotions flitted over her sister’s face in quick succession.
For what seemed like an eternity she didn’t speak. Then she threw her head back on the pillows with a huff of irritation.

‘No. It isn’t Edward’s. It’s Julian’s.’

Caroline felt relief wash through her like a tide.

She
felt weak. She leaned back in the chair. The baby wasn’t Edward’s. Of course it wasn’t, what had she been thinking? But then, what had Annabel meant.. she was silent for a moment, trying to make sense of things.

‘I don’t understand,’ she said, finally. ‘When you say it’s complicated, you say that you and Edward are discussing how to do things, what exactly do you mean?’

Annabel’s fist banged down hard on the bed. She gave a hiss of exasperation.

‘Do you want me to draw you a picture?’

She turned her head, looked at Caroline and raised her eyebrows.

Caroline stared in horror at her sister, her golden-haired sister, the picture of innocence in her pale blue nightgown, propped up on the pillows making plans to get rid of her baby, and to exchange one rich fiancé for another. The other being the man who had insinuated himself into Caroline’s heart, had taken her body and done with it what he liked. The man who had said that Julian was his friend, his rock. The same man who had been having lunch with her sister at the Savoy. Who had massaged sun oil into Annabel’s back with those long, skilful fingers. Who had, what was it Annabel had said to him, when she was drunk? ‘You will look after me Edward, won’t you? You promised, our secret...’

Could you hear the noise when your world came crumbling down
around your ears?

‘Don’t tell Julian!’

Annabel’s words rang in her head as she closed the door to her sister’s room. She was holding the empty cup. It shook in the saucer, slipped, and broke into little pieces on the tiles. She picked them up mechanically, carried them up the stairs to her own room where she put them in a plastic bag and dropped them in the waste bin. She opened the drawer in which she kept her travel documents. She turned the pages till she found the reservations number, then picked up her cell phone. Fifteen minutes later she broke the connexion. She had a flight leaving the next afternoon, a day earlier than planned. She put her phone on the bedside table and lay on the bed. Her limbs ached, her head ached. She felt her weary eyelids begin to close. Five minutes later she was asleep.

***

When she woke up the room was dark. She sat up abruptly and reached for the switch on the lamp next to her bed. The room sprang into life before her dazzled eyes. Half past nine. She’d slept for hours. She stared at the clock, rubbing her face, and then pushed herself off the bed. Her legs were stiff, her skirt creased. She forced herself to stand up, go into the bathroom and splash cold water onto her face. Opening the door quietly she leaned over the banisters.
In bare feet she crept down the stairs to the floor below. The door to Annabel’s room stood slightly open. The lamplight fell on her sleeping face. Holding her breath, she tiptoed down to the ground floor. From behind the kitchen door she could hear the sounds of the others, finishing their evening meal. A wave of nausea washed over her.

She couldn’t face anyone, not even Claudie. She would tell them tomorrow, make an excuse about
a crisis at Willowdale, her aunt ill with all the stress, book a taxi to take her to the airport. Just one more deception after all. She crept silently back up the stairs to the top floor and her bedroom. Once inside she closed the door and leaned against it. The lamp with its peach-coloured shade threw a warm glow on the satiny floorboards, and cast shadows on the Matisse print over the dresser.

Caroline
was full of immense sadness at the thought of leaving. This room, the villa and its lovely gardens, this elegant graceful town, her new friends. Her hopes of happiness. She looked at the picture again. The Dream. It was the last thing she saw before falling asleep. It had been the last thing she had seen the other night before her eyes had closed and she had dropped into oblivion, Edward’s warm body pressed against hers, his voice whispering into her ear.

On an impulse she crossed to the wardrobe and took out jeans and a warm sweater. Lacing her tennis shoes she
prepared for her last walk by the sea.