Fry (9 page)

I swing round to face Alicia.

What is she doing? But there are no clues in her wide, innocent eyes.

She has the perfect poker face.

“That was the day we went Christmas shopping,” she continues, unprompted. “Don’t you remember, Isabel?”

Penney regards her coolly.

“I suppose you have receipts?”

I shift uncomfortably from one foot to the other.

“I’ll have to check,” I say. “I might have thrown them away.”

“I’ve got receipts,” Alicia says, without missing a beat. “Back at the Beach House. I can show you, if you like.”

I watch incredulously as she slips on her coat and leads them out the door.

Against my better judgement, I follow.

I sit in nervous silence in the back of the police car. Beside me, Alicia yaps on about Christmas shopping and the shops we supposedly visited while I was sitting in Filbert’s car park, watching Bernie’s car go up in smoke. Just what, exactly, is she up to? And why the hell am I going along with it? I think of the till receipts we use at Robertson’s. They have the time and date printed on them. If Alicia set the fires, how could she possibly produce receipts? And if it wasn’t her, then why is she covering for me?

We draw up in front of the Beach House and get out of the car. The little voice inside my head tells me to run but I hold my nerve. Without a hint of urgency, Alicia unlocks the door and we follow her up the stairs to her bedroom.

And there we wait. We wait for a horrendously long time as Alicia performs an elaborate search of the room. Oh god, why did I go along with this? Did I really think she was going to be able to produce those mythical till receipts, like a rabbit from a hat?

The police are getting restless. Penney’s partner keeps sighing and glancing at her watch.

“Would you like a cup of tea?” I offer for the second time.

“No thanks, just the receipts,” she responds curtly.

“I’m sure they’re somewhere around here,” Alicia mutters, digging through her desk drawer. A search of her cupboard, dressing table, and wardrobe has failed to turn up anything besides a hair slide she thought she’d lost. The police glance at each other with exasperation and I wonder, with a sinking feeling if she’s doing all this to taunt me.

I clench and unclench my fists as she pulls an old shoe box out from under her bed and begins rifling through it, with the same lack of urgency as she’s conducted the rest of the search.

“Ah, here they are.”

I look up in surprise. Triumphantly, she pulls something out of the box.

Penney and his partner take a closer look.

“The times and dates look right,” he confirms.

She nods.

“So do I still need to come down the station?” 

They look at each other.

“I think we’ll leave it, for the time being.”

I sink back against the bed as their footsteps retreat.  I don’t want to stay here in Alicia’s room but neither do I have the strength to get up. I can barely even string a sentence together.

“Don’t worry, it’s going to be OK now,” Alicia tells me, putting the box back in its place.

“But why did you do that?”

She smiles sweetly. “Anything for a friend.”

“But why did you?”

“I didn’t want you to get into trouble.”

“But why did you think I’d get into trouble?”

She flicks some fluff from her jumper.

“I knew you were at Filbert’s that day.”

“How?”

“Oh, come on – you were acting shifty all morning. Where else would you be going? It’s not like anyone else is recruiting - not at this time of year.”

She’s right.

“Well, thanks, I guess.”

I feel more confused than ever.

* * *

I don’t sleep very well that night. I wake up at two, and then again at three and four, and end up pacing around the living room with the shopping channel on in the background.

What the hell is going on?  Nothing makes sense anymore.

I’m supposed to be driving over to Julio’s in the morning but I’m nervous about leaving Alicia alone with my friends. If only I knew for sure whether I can trust her. Still, there’s no backing out now. Julio’s really looking forward to introducing me to his fiancée. And besides, I have to admit I’m kind of curious. I try to picture Holly, but it’s useless. My brother doesn’t have a type, unless it’s female. Sometimes I wonder what all these women see in him.

Since I’m unable to get back to sleep, I set off early, before the traffic has a chance to build up and I pull up outside Julio’s new house just before lunch-time. It isn’t hard to figure out which house is his. The dismembered body of an old Morris Minor litters the driveway. The poor thing is leaking buckets of oil, and spare parts are splayed out like guts all over the grass. A familiar pair of boots sticks out from under the car.

I’m just considering how to rouse him, when the garage door opens and someone, presumably Holly, teeters out on high heels, carrying a tea tray. She is tall and blonde, with endlessly long legs and rather well-dressed for my dishevelled brother.

“Oh, hello! You must be Isabel!”

“And you must be Holly!”

“I am!” Her smile reveals a slight overbite, which only adds to her appeal. “Julio! Your sister’s here!”

My brother slides out from under the car and makes a futile attempt to dust the dirt off his overalls. He tries to hug me, but I bat him off.

“Not in those clothes!”

“Go and take a shower,” Holly tells him. She’s what my mum would call ‘well spoken’.”

“Come on in, Isabel. I’ve just made some tea.”

The two of us sit in the living room drinking tea and eating Jaffa Cakes. The coffee table is stacked high with bridal magazines and honeymoon brochures. Holly talks enthusiastically about the wedding, which is due to take place in the spring. She seems keen to include me in their plans, which is very sweet, but kind of awkward since it wasn’t so long ago that I was helping Julio plan his wedding to Kate. This would all be so much easier if I could dislike Holly, but so far, I see nothing to dislike.

“It all sounds like a fairytale,” I say, admiring the lavish dress designs she shows me. She nods. “We’re getting married barefoot, down on the beach. I was thinking it might be fun to arrive on horses, but Julio doesn’t have a clue how to ride. Still, I’m sure he can learn in time. And after the ceremony, we’ll have the wedding breakfast in the grounds of Seymour Castle.”

“Sounds lovely.”

“And instead of a disco, we’re going to finish with a candlelit dance. Doesn’t that sound romantic?”

“It does.”

It really does.

I don’t think Kate was that bothered about the details when she married Julio. Theirs was a very simple wedding. She didn’t even wear the traditional white meringue. It just wasn’t her. I’m not sure a big fancy wedding is really Julio either but then, my brother is a chameleon. He twists and changes with every woman he’s with. Sometimes, I’m not sure I know the real Julio at all.

His capriciousness weighs heavily on my conscience. Holly is so excited about this, she’s making so many plans, spending so much money. What if he ditches her just like he ditched Kate and all the others?

I have to say something. I can’t just let her do this, not knowing what my brother’s really like.

I take a deep breath, and the words all come rushing out at once.

“Don’t get me wrong, Holly – you seem fantastic, but are you really sure you want to marry my brother?”

Holly laughs. Yes, actually laughs.

“Don’t worry about me, Isabel. I know his reputation. I know what I’m getting myself into.”

I feel a little taken aback. This isn’t the reaction I was expecting.

“Well, just as long as you know. I would hate for you to get hurt.”

“Don’t worry,” she says, with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Julio’s met his match with me, I can promise you that.”

Well, she seems sure enough!

I wrap my cardy a little more tightly round me as a cool draft blows through the room. 

“Are you cold?”

“No, I’m fine.”

Despite my protests, Holly strikes a match and lets it flutter onto the coals. I hadn’t realised it was a real fireplace. I’d just assumed it was gas, like mine. 

For the first time in weeks, I enjoy the hiss and spit of a fire, without worrying about whether the house is going to burn down. Holly puts on some soft, soothing music and we warm ourselves in companionable silence. My eyes begin to droop as the blue and orange flames crackle and snap in front of me.

“Izzy?” I hear Julio coming downstairs.

“Shh! She’s asleep.”

I am in that no-man’s land between the waking world and the sleeping one. I am aware of Holly and Julio tiptoeing around me, but my closed eyes are still faintly focused on the fire. I can almost make out a ghostly face amidst the black plumes of smoke. I see a girl with pale skin and wild curls. She throws back her head and laughs. I struggle to shake off the image, but I am no longer in control. I give in to the lull of sleep.

“Hi, sleepy head,” Julio says, when I finally emerge from my nap.

“Sorry - I didn’t sleep very well last night,” I apologise, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

“We were thinking of going to the pub over the road if you fancy it?” Holly suggests.

“Sounds good. I just need to freshen up.”

“Of course, come on – I’ll show you your room.”

She leads me upstairs to a neat little guest room. I smile politely while she points out the bathroom and explains the trick for getting the hot water going in the morning. I wait until I hear her feet pad back down the stairs before I ring Kate.

Kate sounds a little frosty when she answers.

“You’re at Julio’s then?”

“Yes.”

“So what’s she like, his new fiancée?”

“She’s…” I pause. Kate wants to hear that Holly’s a screaming lunatic with a hunch-back and a heroin habit but after all Holly’s lovely hospitality, the words stick in my throat.

“You like her, don’t you?” I can hear the hurt in her voice.

“She’s…” I search desperately for something negative to say.

“She’s not you,” I finish truthfully.

* * *

Holly wakes me on Christmas Day with yet another cup of tea and a piece of homemade gingerbread. It’s the first Christmas in years that I’ve been allowed to sleep in late. Mum seems to start the festivities earlier and earlier every year. Not so much out of enthusiasm, but an eagerness to get it all out of the way. Last year, we were both tucked up in bed by half past nine in the evening. I try not to hold it against her though. After all, I like to be up bright and early to hit the Boxing Day sales.

I put on my dressing gown and walk downstairs, eager to begin opening my presents.

“Here - I saw this and thought of you,” Julio says, holding out a large, rectangular parcel.

“Thanks!”

I rip open the paper. It’s a framed picture of a little girl gazing out of her bedroom window at a purple moon.

“I can’t believe you remembered this!”

“Of course I did!”

When I was a little girl, I would often dream of a purple moon – it became a bit of an obsession. Every night, when I was supposed to be asleep, I would wrap my duvet around me and tiptoe over to the wide bay window. There, I would sit and watch, waiting to see if the moon changed colour. I often fell asleep like that, my face pressed up against the glass, my warm breath leaving a strange smudge on the window that mystified my poor Mum in the morning.

“This is really lovely, thank you.” I smile guiltily, remembering what I said to Holly about him yesterday.

Oh god, I hope she’s not going to tell him.

But I get the feeling Holly is someone who can be trusted. Somehow, I don’t think she’s going to repeat my warning to Julio.

“So how are Deacon and the others?” my brother asks later, over Christmas lunch.

I adjust my paper hat. “I don’t know. Everything’s a bit weird at the moment.”

“How do you mean?”

I fill them in on the situation with Alicia.

Holly takes a deep breath. “You should be careful,” she says, stabbing a pea with her fork. “There are some very weird people out there. I should know - I meet enough of them in my line of work.”

“Why? What do you do?”

She flicks back her long, shiny hair.

“I’m a private detective.”

“Wow! That sounds exciting.”

“Hardly. I spend most of my time sitting in the car waiting to take pictures of cheating wives and husbands.”

My eyes flicker to Julio.

Ha! Ha! You aren’t going to get anything past this one, Julio.