Silent Truths (32 page)

Joyce snorted. ‘Don’t kid yourself. They knew. Jesus Christ, look at you. You can dye your hair blonde and wear all the flashy clothes you like, but you’re still Colin Ashby’s wife, and it’s him they’re interested in, not you! It’s always been him, because you’re nothing! You never were, and you never will be.’

‘Beth, no!’ her father cried, grabbing her as she
threw herself at her mother. ‘Just leave it. Come on, both of you …’

‘I hate her!’ Beth cried. ‘She denigrates everything I do and always has. Well, the truth is that they
didn’t
know who I was, so I got paid over one million pounds for something I created without any help from you, or Colin or anyone else. So fuck you, Mother. Do you hear me?
Fuck you
!’

‘There she goes with that vile language again,’ Joyce shouted, her face quivering with outrage. ‘And if you’ve got so much money, Miss High and Bloody Mighty, then it’s about time you started sharing it around, because we’ve never seen a red cent from you since the day you were born. You didn’t even bring us a present from England when you turned up. You never think of anyone but yourself.’

Beth lunged towards her again, but her father still held her. ‘Just listen to her!’ she yelled. ‘The most self-centred, grabbing bitch of all time. Talk about me only ever thinking of myself! What have you ever done for anyone except yourself? When have I, your own daughter, ever mattered? Where were you when I was growing up and needed a mother to make things better? What happened to the birds and the bees and the boyfriends you were supposed to tell me about? Where were our days out shopping? When did we ever do anything together? What have you ever told me about my grandparents, or my childhood, or all those little things you’re supposed to share with your daughter? Where’s the support now, when I’ve never needed it more in my life? Just what the hell kind of mother are you?’

Joyce’s face looked about to explode. ‘I’m the only one you’ve got, so you’d better learn some respect,’ she hissed.

‘For what? What is there to respect about you? Even Colin, who you thought the sun shone out of until now, couldn’t stand you.’

‘It was you he couldn’t stand, you stupid cow!’ Joyce shouted. ‘Why else do you think he had all those mistresses? No man goes looking around as much as he did, if he’s got himself a wife who’s fit to call herself a wife. Why else do you think he’s where he is now? None of it would have happened if he hadn’t been stupid enough to marry –
get back
!’ she yelled, as Beth wrenched herself free from Hal and towered over her like an animal ready to strike. ‘Don’t you dare touch me. Hal, grab her! She’s gone mad.’

Beth’s fists were bunched tight to her mother’s head. Her teeth were bared, and a terrible fury vibrated in her throat as tears streamed from her eyes. ‘He kills a twenty-two-year-old girl, and you manage to make it my fault!’ she screamed. ‘And do you know what’s really sick about that? I knew you would. Your own daughter, your own flesh and blood, and you blame me. Just thank God you never had any other children, because I’d never want to inflict you as a parent on anyone else. I just wonder how Dad can stand being married to you.’

‘At least he’s here, providing a decent life for me, not sneaking round other women’s bedrooms, or locked up in some prison cell. It even took someone else to give your husband a child because you were too inept …
Don’t you dare
!’ she shrieked as Beth’s
fury threatened to smash right into her. ‘Hal, get hold of her. She’s lost her mind.’

As her father’s hands clenched round her wrists Beth jerked herself away, sobbing. ‘You’re not worth it,’ she choked. ‘You’re just not worth it,’ and, grabbing up the car keys and her bag, she ran out of the flat.

For hour after hour she drove and drove, too distraught to know where she was going, or even to care. Time after time she almost left the road, then, spinning the wheel, skidding and throwing up dust, she’d right the car and press on, up into the hills, down into valleys, while all the time tears coursed down her cheeks and sobs of utter despair racked her body. It was the worst scene they’d ever had, and though she’d sensed it building, she’d never dreamt it would be so terrible or hurt so much.

It was early evening when she finally registered the sign for a
taberna
and followed the winding dirt road out towards the cliff edge. By then the need for Colin’s arms and comfort was swelling and threatening like another kind of storm. But that need was always there. It probably wouldn’t ever go away until they could be together again, so she would just have to wait for it to pass, holding herself back from its might until the worst had gone. And it would go, she knew that, just as she knew they’d be together again, and then it would be as though nothing bad had ever happened, and only good would take them to the end. Oh dear God, she had to believe that. She just had to.

The
taberna
was nestled on a grassy knoll that overlooked the most breathtaking views of the
Mediterranean. Parking alongside three other cars, she walked to the edge of the knoll and stood staring out to the horizon. It was so beautiful and peaceful, and she felt so unbearably alone, and afraid, that she didn’t dare to move for fear of what she might do. The rocks below were a long way down, the noise of the waves rushed through her ears, while their power seemed to sweep her insides. She thought of Heather Dance, and for one desperate moment considered calling her. Maybe, in a sad, female way they could comfort each other, reach out in their shared pain and make the other believe that in the end it would all come good. But Heather had Colin to comfort her, so why would she need Beth? Or Ava? Why did anyone need Beth? But Beth needed Ava. Ava could make all this pain go away, even if only for short, blessed moments.

The light was beginning to fade as she walked back across the grass and into the bar. It was deserted, apart from a young boy, nineteen or twenty, bone thin and no taller than her shoulder, who was polishing glasses and watching a TV that was jammed into a shelf between assorted bottles of spirits and liqueurs. Catching her reflection in the mirrored backdrop, he turned and greeted her in broken English, which made her smile. It was funny how people could tell, despite her dark tan and Scandinavian blondness.

She ordered a large vodka with ice, then perched on one of the bar stools. She didn’t notice the half-finished drinks at the other end of the bar until the door to the gents opened and two men returned to claim them. To her surprise she recognized them
both. One was Antonio, from the designer dress shop in the old town; the other was the taxi driver who served her parents’ complex.

Immediately her heart started to beat faster, even though there was no coherence to the instinct yet. It was enough just to feel the power blooming and pricking like roses at the join of her legs. She picked up her vodka, downed it in one go, then signalled the boy to bring another. The drink was heating her from the inside, making her glow, dazzling all inhibitions into submission. She kept her eyes on her reflection, but she had Antonio’s attention now, she could feel it. She waited a few seconds, then looked along the bar to where he was watching her curiously, seeming to ask himself if it was really her. She raised her eyebrows and his face instantly lit up.

‘I tell myself it is you,’ he grinned, getting to his feet. ‘I say, it is the beautiful woman who try the gold dress and I am lucky enough to see her again.’ He was coming towards her, so she swivelled on her stool to greet him.

‘Are you alone?’ he asked, looking around.

‘It would seem so,’ she responded, looking around too.

‘You remember me,
sí
? Antonio.’

‘Of course,’ she replied, gazing right into his eyes.

‘And this,’ he said, indicating his friend, ‘is Marco.’

‘Hello, Marco,’ she purred, as the short, stocky driver joined them. Funny, she’d never thought of men as pawns before, but that was what she was thinking now. She could use them, make them do
anything she wanted, because she, Ava, had the desire and the power.

‘We already meet,’ Marco informed Antonio, while not taking his eyes off Ava.

Antonio looked interested, and said something to Marco in Spanish. Marco shook his head. ‘No, I never take her in my taxi,’ he replied, a slow smile curving the fleshy mouth beneath his moustache. ‘But I like to.’

Antonio spoke in Spanish again, and from the way Marco’s eyes began to bulge Ava knew he was relating what had happened in the shop. Marco looked her up and down, clearly surprised, but obviously hoping he might be treated to the same kind of show.

Ava picked up her drink, drank half of it, then stroked her bottom lip with the rim of her glass.

Less than ten minutes later she was naked on the bar stool between them, inwardly revelling in the abandon, and adoring the feel of the air, and their eyes on her flesh. It felt so exhilarating to be undressed like this, drinking her drink and absorbing their desire, while knowing they wouldn’t dare to touch unless she allowed it. Maybe she would, maybe she wouldn’t.

The boy served another round of drinks, then, trembling with excitement, did as Antonio told him and went to turn the sign on the door to closed. Her back was against the bar, one arm across her waist propping the other that was holding her glass. She watched the boy, while imagining the feel of Antonio’s and Marco’s hands on her breasts. The sting of lust between her legs was severe. She smiled and took a sip of her drink. Her eyes met
Antonio’s. He moved in closer. She looked down as his hand came towards her. How far would she let this go? He was touching her, stroking one distended nipple, while Marco began teasing the other. The boy was standing close by, transfixed by a scene he’d probably never even dreamt of seeing. She looked at him and quite suddenly everything changed.

‘No,’ she cried, as shame and nausea washed through her. ‘No. Stop!’

Antonio and Marco drew back in surprise.

Her glass hit the floor as starting to panic she grabbed for her clothes.

‘What is wrong? What happen?’ Antonio said with feeling. ‘We no hurt you …’

‘No! I have to go,’ she gasped, pushing past him and running for the door. To her relief it wasn’t locked. She tore it open, closing her ears to their protests, but when she reached the car she didn’t have the keys.

Quickly she pulled on her T-shirt and wrapped the sarong round her waist. There was so much fear inside her that her entire body was shaking. She couldn’t go back in there, so what was she going to do?

‘You forget these.’

She swung round to find Antonio holding her keys, offering them to her and smiling.

Cautiously she took them, tensed ready for his move. But where would she run? How could she possibly fight him off? Oh, dear God, what had she been thinking?

‘We thought it was what you wanted,’ he told her, letting his hand fall to his side.

She couldn’t speak. The thoughts in her head were so jumbled she barely knew what they were.

It was quite dark now, with only the lights from the
taberna
flashing an occasional red and amber glow on their faces. Not far away the surf crashed on the rocks then sucked itself back. She thought he was going to speak again, but then he turned and walked away.

Half an hour later, as she drove through the pitch-black night, she was still trembling with the shock of what she’d done. It could have turned out so much worse. They could have raped her, for God’s sake, and who would have blamed them. She’d been asking for it, at least Ava had, and in truth she couldn’t even say now that Ava had any regrets, for there was no denying the incredible sense of power she’d experienced before Beth had snatched control. Her heart gave a painful twist as she realized that she had no clear idea of how she felt about any of it, for there was a part of her that was still turned on by what had happened, while another part was clinging to the fear and revulsion. Dear God, was this how it was going to be from now on? Had the struggle begun between the totally disparate sides of her nature? Who was going to win, Beth or Ava? Who did she really want to be?

Feeling suddenly nauseous and breathless she pulled in to the side of the road. Her heart was pounding, seeming to crush her lungs. Her skin was burning and sweat was pouring down her body. She rested her head against the wheel, forcing herself to take in slow, steadying gulps of air. She’d be all right, the world would stop spinning soon; the nausea would pass. It must be
the thought of returning to Joyce that was making her feel like this, so maybe she should find a hotel and go back in the morning. Yes, that was what she’d do, and as soon as the decision was made she felt herself starting to relax.

After a while she looked around at the empty black night. There were no lights, no signs of life; no other cars on the road. She was in a lay-by. The roof was on the car; the windows were up to seal in the pre-cooled air. The harvest moon was one of the most beautiful she’d ever seen, big and round and such a deep buttery yellow it might actually start to melt. She wondered if they had those moons in LA, whether the smog would get in the way, or somehow contrive to make them even more beautiful than the one she was staring at now. She wished it could speak, or in some way convey a message of hope or understanding, or simply a small sign to show her that everything really was going to be all right.

Her eyes dropped to the side-mirror as it reflected the twin beams of a car’s headlights coming along the road behind her. As they drew closer the car seemed to slow. She continued to watch, curiously, then anxiously, as it pulled up alongside her. She reached for the ignition key and started to turn, but as the engine caught, the other car came to a stop, blocking her way out.

Fear made her heart pound again. She couldn’t see who was in the driver’s seat. The windows were tinted. She was so remote and vulnerable here. There was nowhere to run, and if she screamed no one would hear.

She watched, frozen to her seat, as a man got out
of the car and walked round to hers. Quickly she scrambled for the lock, making sure it was down. Her eyes were panicked as she looked up at him. His face was only just visible in the moonlight. He was saying something, then she realized he was asking if she was all right.