Page 57 of Someone in the Water
She needs to be braver. The blog piece could even hold some clues that absolve her mum. She pulls the chair closer to the desk, clicks back into the blog, and starts reading.
Frankie
28th July
A siren explodes in my head. I jerk awake, ride a wave of nausea. I flail out with one arm, find my phone, switch off the alarm.
Lola.
But thinking of my daughter brings in a host of horrible images too – a bleeding eagle owl, the goading note, our argument, her disappearing into the restaurant with Patrick.
I push up to sitting. It’s hot in here – I didn’t think to put the air conditioning on when I crawled into bed – and my skin is damp. I push clumps of sticky hair away from my face.
When I got back to my bedroom, I was consumed with the shock of seeing my mazzeri painting in the hotel shop. I recognised how loose my grip on reality was, and knew I needed to knock myself out. So I took too many sleeping pills and descended into a black hole.
But now I’m awake, I need to check Lola’s safe.
A knock on my bedroom door makes me jump. ‘Hello?’
‘Mum?’
I scramble out of bed and pull open the door. The sight of my daughter makes me feel instantly better. I want to reach for her, but I know she’ll sense my desperation, so I take a step backwards instead. ‘Come in, come see my room.’
‘Were you asleep?’ Lola asks suspiciously. ‘Are you sick?’
‘No, I mean, yes, I had a lie-down, but I’m fine. Anyway, what about you?’ I ask, wiping my sweaty forehead. ‘Are you having a good day?’
Lola nods and walks further inside. ‘I love your cute little balcony. Is there a minibar? Can we sit out there and have a drink?’
I follow her outside. My room is at the front of the hotel, so there are no sea views, but the garden is in full bloom and it’s more peaceful on this side. I rattle the railing to check it’s sturdy. ‘I’d love that. What would you like?’
Lola smiles. ‘A Coke would be great, thanks.’
I take two cans out of the small fridge, then sink into the free chair opposite Lola. I try to stop my arm from shaking as I hand over the drink. ‘So what have you done this morning?’ I ask.
‘I went into town with Patrick.’
‘Oh?’ I take a sip. The drink is cold and fizzy, and I like how it pirouettes into my stomach.
‘He had to pick a letter up from his solicitor’s. We were supposed to go for a drink after, but in the end, we came straight back because he wasn’t feeling great.’
‘Oh, that’s a shame,’ I lie.
‘No, I didn’t mind. It gave me time to think actually.’ Lola leans forward in her chair. ‘And what I thought was that I really need you to stop blaming yourself for Izzy’s death. For your sake, and for mine. This holiday didn’t start how I intended at all, but now we’re here … well, the sun’s shining, the sea’s inviting, and I think we should make the best of it. Because it’s important for mothers and daughters to spend quality time together, don’t you think? I mean we never know how long we’ve got, do we?’
‘We’ve got ages,’ I blurt out. ‘I’m thirty-nine and you’re seventeen. What’s with the doom slaying?’ I try to control my breathing.
‘I’m not,’ Lola says, offended now. ‘It’s just a turn of phrase. And I think you’re missing the point.’
I take a long, silent breath.The mazzeri legend is bullshit. Lola is not going to die. And the note is just a piece of paper.‘I’m sorry, and you’re right about quality time. But what you’re asking for, staying here, it’s not that simple.’
Lola leans her elbows on the glass table and knits her fingers. ‘Mum, did you ever wonder if it could have been Raphael in the water that night?’
‘Raphael? Why would you say that?’
‘Patrick told me that he and Anna fought about Izzy the night before she died. And badly enough that Patrick ran away from home. You were there, so you know this.’
‘I do, but …’
