Читать книгу Losing Juliet: A gripping psychological thriller with twists you won’t see coming - June Taylor - Страница 15

Manchester: 2007

Eloise was wiping down tables, a million questions still racing through her mind. The more she learned about Juliet, the more she was fascinated by her. Her mother fascinated her, too. To think she would have been friends with someone as carefree as that. She couldn’t wait to meet Juliet, although had to keep reminding herself that, as yet, her mother had no idea what she was up to. She hadn’t quite made up her mind whether to tell her or not.

‘They’re going to get a ticket if they don’t move soon,’ said Maria, standing by the window. ‘Think they’re above the law when they have fancy cars like that.’

Eloise went to take a look.

It struck her that she had seen that car before, or certainly one like it. Cars like that stood out: sleek and black, with tinted windows. The door on the driver’s side opened, a man got out wearing a dark suit, and for a brief moment Eloise thought he looked directly at her. She pulled back out of view, a flash of irrational fear passing through her. But five minutes later he was gone, and even if it was the same car from last night it really wasn’t that remarkable. So what if the man had caught her eye? The old woman walking past now was looking right at her, as was the child running along behind. The group of students just did it too. This was a café; people looked in all the time.

***

The smell of cigarettes immediately hit her when she got home. As soon as she opened the door, in fact. Chrissy hated smoke, it made her wheezy, and Eloise had never had any desire to take up the habit. The only thing she could think of was that someone had been to see her mother whilst she had been at work. ‘Hello?’ she called, telling herself she wasn’t frightened, even though her voice felt trapped inside her throat and her stomach muscles were so tight she thought they might snap. ‘Mum? Are you in?’

She could be out running, or sometimes she liked to do the charity shops on a Saturday.

Checking in each of the rooms she discovered that the window in her bedroom wasn’t shut properly. Strange for Chrissy to have missed this: her security checks were always so thorough, and really she ought to have been extra vigilant after last night’s break-in next door. However, as the whole place was untouched, and nothing to suggest that anyone had been in, the simple explanation must be that, for once, the window had been left slightly open, the man next door had been puffing on his cigarettes out on the walkway, as he sometimes did, and the smoke had drifted in.

Eloise closed the window and switched on her computer, continuing to look around as she waited for it to boot up. The only thing missing from her room was the yellow bear from her dad, which, she was almost certain, was back on top of her bookshelf when she had left for work. But Chrissy had no doubt hidden it again somewhere. She would ask her about it when she got in.

Meanwhile The Exclusive World of Ricci was coming to life on her screen. Eloise gazed longingly at the gorgeous clothes, then clicked again on the picture of Juliet and her Italian husband, the furry white cat entwined in his legs. If she didn’t mess this up, kept a level head, Eloise could be a part of this world too.

On impulse, she sent Juliet another text:

‘Can’t wait for Monday!

Eloise xxx

PS What’s your cat called? It’s very sweet’

She didn’t hear the key being turned in the lock. Or the door opening. And when she did she panicked, dropping her phone onto the floor with a thump. Then it was too late to zap the website off the screen.

As soon as she heard the noise, Chrissy came rushing in.

Eloise saw the way her body stiffened. How her hands turned white gripping the back of the chair. The shock of Juliet smiling back at her after all of these years.

‘Erm. I wasn’t sure which Juliet it was at first, Mum. But after what you’ve told me I’m pretty sure it’s this one. What do you think?’

She felt the chair sigh as Chrissy removed her hands. Her fingers were trembling, moving slowly towards Juliet’s face. But she withdrew them again quickly, as though it was too painful even to touch the screen.

Then she gasped and put her hand over her mouth.

‘What is it?’

‘She married Luca. I don’t believe it.’ Her voice was far away. She began to laugh but in a peculiar way.

‘Who’s Luca?’

‘Turn it off. Get rid of it.’

‘But she was your best friend, Mum.’

‘I’m going for a run.’

Fortunately, Chrissy had already left the room when the reply came through:

‘Me neither. See you soon, Eloise.

xx

PS Our cat is called Chrissy!’

***

Eloise snapped her book shut. Whilst her mother was out running she hadn’t been able to read a single word. Her head was pounding with too many questions. Was it right to be encouraging this? She thought of the impenetrable darkness in her mother’s eyes every time Juliet’s name was mentioned. If only her mother had other friends, then perhaps Eloise could ask them for advice. But apart from Juliet, there was no one.

‘Phew, that was tough going,’ she said, leaning on the doorframe, hunched over to get her breath back. She came up sniffing the air. ‘Smell of smoke to you in here?’

‘Oh. Yeah, it was the bloke next door, smoking outside my window.’

‘Charming,’ she said, heading for the kitchen.

Water ran off her hands like sparks as she waited for the tap to run cold, then she filled up a glass and drank thirstily. ‘Wow,’ she said, banging it down on the unit, swiping the drips from her chin. ‘Needed that.’ She turned the tap on again, this time dousing her cheeks with cold water, burying her face in the towel.

‘Who’s Luca, Mum?’

Chrissy screwed up the towel and dropped it onto the unit.

‘Come on, Mum, you practically had a fit when you saw him. Why won’t you tell me?’

‘I’ve been telling you haven’t I?’ Chrissy said, reaching for another glass to fill it up with wine. ‘About Juliet, how we met? Just not … I can’t … There are some things you’re better off not knowing, okay?’

‘I can take it, Mum. I’m tough, remember. Like you.’

She felt her mother’s hand on her cheek.

‘You’re young, Eloise.’

Eloise flicked it away again. ‘I’m not a child. And anyway, you had me when you were nineteen. You probably wish you hadn’t. And Dad.’ Her words tailed off at the end.

‘Don’t you ever say that,’ said Chrissy, pointing her finger in her face. ‘Ever. When you know it’s not true.’

Eloise backed off. She didn’t know what to expect from her mother since Juliet had appeared on the scene. Receiving one slap was more than enough.

‘The last thing I want is for you to get hurt,’ said Chrissy, her voice softening again. ‘Please, let’s not fall out.’

‘You didn’t care about that when you were drinking yourself to death after Dad died, did you? So why do you care so much about me now, eh?’

The neighbour’s dog started barking. Eloise could feel tears pricking her eyes like pins. She blinked them away. Chrissy walked across to the window and peered through the slats of the blinds.

Then she spun round.

‘Okay,’ she said. ‘Okay. Show me the website again.’

‘What? Are you serious?’

Another text came through on her phone but Eloise ignored it. This was more important.

***

In a matter of seconds Juliet was back in the room with them.

‘Can you zoom in? I need to see that thing in her hair.’ Chrissy’s face was almost touching the screen. ‘My god,’ she said in a whisper.

‘What? What is it? Is it that silver slide thing in her hair?’

‘It’s not a slide, it’s a brooch.’

‘Let’s see.’ Eloise peered at it. ‘It’s got something on it but I can’t really see.’

‘It’s a cat. I sent her it for her twentieth birthday.’

She was about to tell her that Juliet’s white cat was also called Chrissy, but stopped herself in time. Nearly twenty years had gone by and Juliet was still wearing the brooch. Not only that, she had named her cat Chrissy. It would only freak her out more if she knew.

Eloise took a breath. ‘So, what if Juliet wants to see you again?’ Chrissy shook her head. ‘But it’s obvious that’s why she’s trying to get in touch with you, Mum.’

‘I don’t want to see her.’

‘Well, what about the brooch, and the cat? I mean the cat brooch that she still—’

‘Will you stop going on about that bloody thing?’ Chrissy put her hands to her temples. ‘You’re driving me insane.’

‘Why though, Mum?’

‘Because I bloody stole it, if you must know! Okay? Happy now?’

‘Oh.’

Eloise was stunned, her brain overloaded. ‘So … so Juliet doesn’t know that?’

‘Of course she doesn’t know.’

And then it seemed almost comical. What was a stolen brooch between friends? Hardly the crime of the century, even if the brooch was ugly as sin. Eloise smiled to herself. Things had suddenly got a whole lot easier as far as she was concerned.

‘I’m going to have a bath,’ said Chrissy, pressing her hands into the small of her back. ‘Before I seize up.’

‘I’ll run it for you.’

Eloise almost knocked the wineglass out of her hand in her eagerness to please. She darted into the bathroom where the hot tap began its slow, pitiful trickle, and she placed a stack of travel magazines on the side to try and tempt her mother.

She appeared a little while later, wrapped in a towel.

‘Lovely smell,’ she said. ‘What will I do without you, eh? All your special baths and breakfasts in bed. You’re so good to me, Eloise.’

Eloise felt her cheeks ignite on hearing those words. ‘Well, I try,’ she said, moving out of her way.

‘And that’s the best any of us can do.’ Chrissy skimmed the water, shaking the drips off her fingers. ‘Perfect, thanks.’ Then she picked up the magazines and handed them to Eloise. ‘They’ll just go crinkly in here.’

Eloise forced a smile. ‘Okay. Well, enjoy,’ she said, closing the door.

Her mother would be in the bath for the next hour at least. Eloise looked down at her phone.

‘On my way. Hope that’s okay

J

xxxx’

She stared at the words. They didn’t make any sense.

She was about to send a reply when the doorbell went.

Please. Don’t let it be.

‘Juliet?’

***

She was exactly as she was on her website. But what was she doing here? On their walkway, outside their flat, the Mancunian Way rumbling on behind her? Juliet Ricci, big shades, big hair with red streaks. Vivid red linen dress with long slits up the sides. Massive bottle of champagne in her hand.

On completely the wrong day.

Juliet put a cigarette to her lips, cheeks sucked in drawing heavily on it, nodding her head as she contemplated Eloise. Eloise noticed the silver cat brooch pinned to her dress. The late evening sunlight gave it a sparkle. It certainly didn’t look cheap. Juliet dropped the cigarette onto the walkway, crushing it with her shoe. Then she flung her arms open wide. Eloise resisted, terrified this might lead to some loud ‘it’s so lovely to meet you’ greetings. She managed, somehow, to communicate: PLEASE DON’T DO THAT.

‘You must be the beautiful Eloise,’ Juliet whispered. Her voice was even deeper and more sensual in real life. She kissed Eloise on both cheeks. Her skin was soft.

‘Bella ragazza. You look so like your mother when I knew her.’ She took a step back to inspect her further, chewing one arm of her sunglasses. ‘Does she know?’

‘I – I don’t understand. Why are you here now, Juliet?’

‘You didn’t get my messages?’

She came closer, smoothing down Eloise’s hair where she had been nervously scrunching it. Juliet’s nails were red and immaculate, she smelt of roses, jasmine, musk.

Eloise could feel herself shaking. ‘I got one text. But—’

Juliet placed her hand on her shoulder. ‘I was in London and decided to fly up this evening. I messaged you to say that I didn’t think it was a good idea to meet for the first time anywhere public. Much better here.’ She gave her shoulder a squeeze. ‘We really don’t know how she’s going to react, do we?’ Taking another step back, she asked: ‘Is she in?’

‘She’s – she’s in the bath.’

‘What do you think, should I wait?’

‘Well—’

‘Okay,’ said Juliet, putting her shades back on. ‘Don’t worry, Eloise. I’ll see you Monday evening as planned. But I’ll come here. Okay?’ Juliet kissed her on both cheeks again. ‘You are even more beautiful than your mother was.’ She put her finger on her lips, then pressed it gently to Eloise’s nose. ‘Best not tell her that. Ciao.’

She smiled, waving her fingers like they were playing the piano mid-air.

‘Bye.’ Eloise felt her racing heartbeat slow as Juliet’s heels click-clacked away from her.

Holding the bottle of champagne out to the side, she stopped, spun round, and was heading back again.

No! Go! Before Mum sees you.

‘I nearly forgot,’ she said, handing over the bottle.

This time she disappeared, the sound of her heels fading into the rumble of traffic.

Eloise had no time to reflect because her mother was shouting from the bathroom: ‘Who was that, Eloise?’

‘No one. Just someone got the wrong flat again. Delivering pizza.’

‘You should’ve kept it, I’m starving.’

She put down the bottle, ridiculously heavy, and picked up the crushed tab end off the floor, breathing in Juliet’s perfume. There was lipstick on the tip. She ran her finger over it, making a red streak on the back of her hand.

‘You smoking?’ said Chrissy.

Her mother was standing right behind her, pulling the belt through the loop of her bathrobe.

‘Erm … Yeah.’

She managed to shut the door quickly on the bottle of champagne, still out on the walkway.

‘I knew I could smell it. You’re a fool, Eloise.’

‘I hardly ever,’ she replied, darting into the kitchen to dispose of the evidence.

Chrissy went to sit down. She was about to turn on the TV but Eloise stopped her.

There was still so much more Chrissy needed to tell her. And time was running out.