Barney nods. I can see why Victoria is so good at her job. Astute, composed, already thinking three steps ahead when the rest of us are still trying to catch up. Because if Felix’s death wasn’t accidental, it can only mean one thing. Someone killed him…
Victoria must notice my shocked expression, because she is quick to clarify.
‘I’m not saying it wasn’t an accident, I’m just saying we don’t know how he died yet. And until we do, anyone with a reason to resent Felix needs to be careful how they spin things.’
She holds my gaze as she says it, and a frisson of fear runs through me. Because after the night of Simone’s birthday meal,Ihave a reason to resent Felix, don’t I? And, I remember with growing horror, so does Dominic.
The air on the terrace suddenly feels suffocating. I need to get away.
‘I’m going to check on Willow,’ I announce.
Victoria frowns. ‘There’s really no need. She’s known Maria since she was little. She’ll look after her.’
‘The girl has just lost a parent.’ I try to keep the edge out of my voice, but it’s hard. So hard. ‘I know how that feels. So whenDom gets back, you can tell him I’m with Willow.’ And before she can answer, I turn on my heel and head for the villa.
* * *
I find Willow and Maria in the living room, the teenager on the floor in front of the huge L-shaped sofa, hugging her knees, her head bowed. Maria is sitting beside her, one arm round her slender shoulders, a box of tissues in the other hand.
Willow is talking, though it’s hard to make out what she’s saying between sobs. Neither she nor Maria has heard me come in, and I loiter by the door for a minute or two wondering whether I should intrude on their grief.
‘…just don’t understand why he would have gone down there. The gates were always locked.’
Maria’s voice, low and reassuring. ‘Don’t upset yourself,agapi mou. The police will be here soon. They will discover what has happened to your father. In the meantime, let me call your mother. Will you be all right here on your own?’
‘I’ll stay with her,’ I say.
Maria looks up and, seeing me, nods. ‘I won’t be long,’ she says, handing me the tissues.
I plonk down on the ground next to Willow. My instinct is to give her a hug but I’m not sure how she’d react, so I squeeze her knee instead.
‘Are you OK?’
Her head jerks up, her swollen eyes blazing. ‘What d’you think? My dad’sdead. Of course I’m not OK!’
‘Sorry, it was a stupid thing to say.’ I try again. ‘Can I get you anything? A glass of water, a blanket?’
She shakes her head and we sit like that for a moment: Willow sniffing, me searching for something to say that isn’t a meaningless platitude, because ‘I’m sorry for your loss’ justdoesn’t cut it. It’s been years since Gran died, but I still remember the impotent rage I felt whenever someone told me ‘everything happens for a reason’ and ‘she’s in a better place’, or any sentence that began with ‘At least…’
In the end it’s Willow who breaks the silence.
‘You were the only one who was worried about him, weren’t you? We all thought he’d just disappeared for a bit, situation normal. If only we’d listened to you.’
‘Oh, Willow.’ This time I do put my arm around her and she doesn’t protest. ‘You mustn’t blame yourself. I could have insisted we go and look for him, but I didn’t.’
She turns her tear-streaked face to mine. ‘What if he collapsed in the heat? It could have taken him hours to die. I can’t stop thinking what it must have been like for him, all alone down there while we were eating and drinking up here like everything was fine.’
I pluck a tissue from the box and press it into her hand. ‘I know it’s hard, but try not to think like that. We don’t know what happened yet, do we? Not for sure.’
We both jump at the sound of a door slamming somewhere in the villa. Moments later, Maria appears, twisting a dishcloth between her fingers.
Dread solidifies in my stomach.
‘What is it, Maria? What’s wrong?’
‘The police are on their way.’
46
