Sleeping Cruelty (36 page)

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Authors: Lynda La Plante

BOOK: Sleeping Cruelty
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He could hear Justin’s laugh, see his face in a multitude of expressions. They overlapped and juggled for space in his mind until he felt weak and had to sit down. Like a lovesick boy, he ached to see Justin, no matter what had happened in the past.

But as the boat drew closer to the jetty his confidence began to waver, leaving him with a terrible dread that Justin might not want to remain his friend. After all, hadn’t Justin used him as he had used everyone else? Suddenly he was afraid he would lose Justin. He was unsure whether he could deal with such a loss: Justin was closer to him than anyone else, and no matter what he had done, William would have to confront him with all he had discovered. He fell into contemplation of how he would approach him: he knew he had to be told the truth, no matter what.

When Laura couldn’t find Max in his room she was worried. Then she remembered they’d agreed to meet at Suicide Point. She reprimanded herself for being so stupid. She had made the arrangements, after all. She checked her case, stashed behind some ferns, before starting along the winding path up to the point. She’d thought Justin was never going to leave her room. But he’d suddenly heard a boat coming in, and rushed out. It was either William or the mail-boat arriving, he’d called. She waited ten minutes before she dared leave.

Laura ran, panting, to the peak, the highest point on the island. As she turned the last blind corner to climb higher she caught a glimpse of Max in the distance, standing with his back to her, facing the sea. He was barefoot, wearing dark trousers and a white shirt, billowing in the wind. His hands were on his hips and he was standing so still he might have been a statue. Laura began to run, but as she drew closer she froze.

It wasn’t Max, it was Justin. She stared at him for a moment,
frightened. Where was Max?
What had he done to Max?
She clenched her fists and forced herself to continue towards Justin, who stared out to sea, watching William’s speedboat approach the island.

‘Where is he?’ She was only a few feet behind him.

Justin tensed. He said nothing.

She came closer and her voice was shrill: ‘Where is he? What have you done to him? If you’ve hurt him, I’ll . . .’ She was close enough now. One hard shove and he would topple over Suicide Point into the crashing sea below.

‘He’s not coming, Laura,’ Justin said.

She raised both hands to push him over but Justin grabbed her wrists. ‘He’s on the jetty, ready to leave. He’s going alone.’

He still held her wrists as her body relaxed and the anger subsided. She shook her head, smiling. ‘Oh, no, not this time. I don’t believe you. He’s waiting for me.’

He grabbed her and held her in his arms so she could hardly breathe. He guided her to the cliff’s edge, and forced her to look down towards the jetty. Max was standing with his suitcase beside him. She eased away from him, and stepped closer to the edge. Justin dragged her back.

‘What have you told him?’ Laura screeched. Justin threw her to the ground and bent down to her. She kicked him between his legs and he howled in agony. ‘You bastard, what did you tell him? He loves me.’ Laura clawed at the grass. Her eyes were demented and her face twisted with uncontrollable rage. ‘You had to spoil it. I knew you would if you found out because you were always jealous, jealous that I had a chance to be free of you. I hate you! I hate you!’ she hissed, and with that she came for him, scratching and snarling like a savage.

Then she began to sob. ‘I never told him anything. I wouldn’t have done that to you.’ She could taste the blood in her mouth and gasped, taking deep breaths. She was calming down, bringing her anger under control.

Justin watched her fearfully. The rage quietened, but he could
still see it swirling inside her. Her wild eyes belied the smile on her lips.

‘You never told him anything, did you, about us?’ Laura pleaded.

‘I swear on our graves.’

Laura knew he was telling the truth. When they were children they had dug their graves ready for them to lie side by side. They had often laughed about how they would have to dig them deeper and wider if they were to fit into them as adults. His sad, vulnerable face made her open her arms to him and cradle him against her breasts.

Justin was crying. He was so afraid for her when she was like this, when her eyes frightened him. When Laura hid her fury she was very dangerous. He had to stop her seeing Max. He sobbed out, ‘I will never leave you, I will always be here for you.’

‘Ssh, ssh,’ she whispered, kissing his head and rocking him. ‘We have to leave each other some day, Justin,’ she said. She felt as if her heart would burst open and bleed. Max was not going to get away from her, but she knew that if Justin suspected anything he would never let her go. ‘Haven’t you ever wanted to be free of me?’

Justin shook his head and slumped to the ground.

She crouched down beside him. ‘Oh, yes, you have. Come on, Justin, you can admit it to me. You have wanted to be free of me, haven’t you?’

‘Sometimes,’ he admitted.

‘You know, if you could find someone to love and be loved by, I wouldn’t stop you or try and spoil it. You do know that, don’t you?’

He gave her a sidelong look. This was a route they had never travelled down before. He could not see her eyes or her expression: her hair fell like a curtain across her face. ‘Okay, Laura,
would
you feel the same way about me? You know, if I found someone?’ His heart pounded. Could he leave her and not feel guilty? Justin took her hand and threaded his fingers through
hers. Her hair still hid her face and she made no reply. The pain inside him was like razors slicing into him. A terrible sense of loss consumed him. ‘Laura? Is it over now?’

Laura stood up and brushed her skirt down, then took a deep breath. ‘I have to go to Max.’

He closed his eyes. ‘Let him go, Laura. Let him go.’

She looked down at him. ‘No, I won’t. It’s you I’m letting go, Justin. It’s time.’

He had found her hidden suitcase, and knew now she had lied. It hurt him so much.

‘We love each other,’ she said firmly. ‘Not the same way as you and me, that will always be special, our secret. But I have made a decision and you can’t stop me. He can take care of me now.’

‘No, he can’t,’ Justin said, his voice breaking.

‘Yes, he can. He has a big trust fund and we’ll find a little house, perhaps close to the villa in France.’

‘I think he went into the control room,’ he said softly. But she was talking rapidly to herself, making plans as she brushed down her skirt.

‘We could hire you to make our house special.’ She cupped his face between her hands. ‘This will all be perfect, you’ll see. I had better go now, I don’t want to miss the boat.’

Justin stared at her as tears rolled down his cheeks. Her eyes were empty. She was already somewhere out of his reach, so he let her go. He watched her walking to her case, brushing aside the ferns, picking it up then turning to wave to him. He couldn’t stop her, not this time.

William stepped on to the jetty and was surprised to see Max there, sitting on his case. He rose to greet William. ‘Would it be possible to be taken to Tortola, sir?’ he asked.

William looked back at the boat-boys. They had made the crossing so many times that day and they looked worn out. ‘I’d prefer it if you waited for the mail-boat,’ he said. ‘It should be
along at about six. It’ll be a longer trip but my boys are tired out.’

Max checked his wristwatch. It was just past six o’clock.

William raised an eyebrow. ‘It’ll be here, give or take half an hour. It depends on the tides, and how many deliveries they have to do.’ He headed for one of the golf carts then glanced back.

Max was shading his eyes and looking out to sea. He called out, ‘I can see it!’

‘Goodbye, then, have a safe journey home,’ William shouted and continued towards the golf cart.

The mail-boat crew agreed to take Max aboard, but said they would need a half-hour break. Max returned to sit on his suitcase. He didn’t want to go near the house again. All he wanted was to leave. The more he thought about Laura, the more thankful he was he’d found out. It had been a stupid fantasy. He could not have married Laura. He would never have been able to finish his studies or been able to provide for her. It was just one of those stupid holiday things.

The longer he brooded, the more he reverted to the boy who had stepped off the launch on his arrival. He cried a little, and wiped away the tears with the back of his hand. She was a cheap whore, a slut. Thank God he’d walked into that office. Thank God he’d switched on the tapes.

Laura hurried down to the jetty. When she saw William in the golf cart heading towards the house, she paused, remembering the diamonds. That didn’t matter, she’d contact him after she and Max were married: they might need the diamonds to help buy a little house. William wouldn’t cheat her. She kept walking, talking rapidly to herself, making her plans.

She didn’t realize she was stumbling, almost falling. She felt slightly dizzy. She was so intent on seeing Max that she was unaware of the signals, and blamed the way she was feeling on
the weight of her suitcase. She tossed it aside: she didn’t want to miss the boat.

Suddenly her legs almost buckled beneath her as the darkness crept upwards. Then came the fear, making its way up her legs to her thighs. Soon it would be dragging at her intestines. Laura gasped for breath as she crawled back to her suitcase. She fumbled with the clasp and got it open to find her medicine box. At any moment now she would be incapable of helping herself. As she opened the box, spilling tablets on the ground, the horror seized her. She tried to stand but her body jerked backwards and she fell heavily on the floor, cracking her head against the paving. Blood seeped into her hair, but she couldn’t feel the pain, and she thrashed around, slithering across the stone-flagged path, twisting and turning, spittle at the corners of her mouth.

Not a quarter of a mile away, Max walked along the narrow gangplank to jump down on to the deck of the mail-boat. He watched the boys haul in the planks, the engines started up, and the boat eased away from the jetty. He saw Justin running like a man possessed along a narrow path, saw him bend out of sight. The next moment he was carrying Laura in his arms. Max turned away, not wanting to see them, not wanting to remember what he had seen. He only wanted to forget, but it would take a long time.

Justin pushed open the bungalow door and laid his sister on the bed, praying that it was over, that it would not take hold again. But just as she seemed peaceful, it began again in such force that her body seemed to lift itself up, as if hurled by unseen hands. In a panic he rummaged for her medicine box and realized it was back down the path in her suitcase. He ran out of the bungalow.

Justin’s breath heaved in his chest. He’d picked up the pills and the medicine box, shoved them in the case and dragged it back up. Now he opened the box, took out a thick wedge of rubber
and stood over her. He calculated how long it had been going on, and tried to hold her down, but her strength was awesome.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ William shouted from the doorway.

‘She’s having a fit. It’s been going on for a long time. It’ll kill her. Help me get this into her mouth – she’s biting her tongue. She’ll choke herself.’

William could not believe the strength of the fragile woman. At last Justin gripped her head long enough to prise open her mouth, and used a platinum spatula to force her teeth apart. Blood trickled from her mouth where she had bitten through her tongue, but at last he was able to insert the wedge. He stepped away from her, then filled a syringe and injected her with a sedative.

‘Get away from her. There’s nothing we can do except hope it’ll be over soon.’

They stood watching Laura as she continued having spasms and slithered across the floor like an eel. Slowly the fit subsided and she lay twitching and snorting. Her body was black and blue where she had slammed against the furniture and the wound to her head bled freely.

As soon as she was calm enough, Justin lifted her and carried her to the bed.

William fetched wet towels to wipe the blood from her head, then watched as Justin dressed her in a satin nightie. He tucked the sheet tightly around her and took the wedge out of her mouth. She was still now, in a deep sleep. William was moved by the tenderness Justin showed her.

At last Justin turned to him. ‘I’m so glad to see you, Willy.’

‘And I’m glad to see you, Justin. I’ve missed you.’

Only then did he see the scratch marks on Justin’s face, the bruises on his neck. ‘Dear God, don’t tell me she did that to you?’ William said, shocked.

Justin shook his head. ‘No, I fell. It looks a lot worse than it is.’

William made him sit down, got some disinfectant and bathed the cuts. Some were so deep they bled profusely. Justin remained silent throughout.

Tears slid down Justin’s cheeks, which William wiped away. He did not know why it happened, but suddenly he took Justin’s face in his hands and kissed him on the cleaned wounds and his neck, but was afraid to move to the lips he wanted more than anything to touch with his.

Justin clung to him as though he never wanted to let go, and the kiss, when it came, was instigated by him. For William it was shocking but also the ultimate pleasure of his life. The embrace took him to a world of love he had believed was beyond his reach. He was filled with desire and hope. This was where he knew Andrew Maynard had been; this was the love he had written about. A shining peace swept through every fibre of his body.

‘I’m so glad you’re here, Willy,’ Justin murmured.

‘Me too.’ William hesitated before he spoke again. ‘I’ve missed you, Justin. I’ve also been so afraid, but it’s all going to be all right now. I’m here for you both. It’s all going to be all right, I’m sure.’

‘Is it, Willy?’ Justin said. ‘Promise? I bet you daren’t! There’s so much you don’t know about me and Laura. We’re not good people, Willy. I’m not a good person.’

‘Justin, trust me, I know everything about you and Laura now, and it doesn’t make any difference to me. Marta told me. She loves you and . . . and no one will ever hurt either of you again. I’ll see to that.’

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