Chapter 32 Darcy

32 DARCY

NOW

They’re on Emerald Island, having returned from the manta ray trip and kayaked across the lagoon. The white sand and fringe of palm trees are identical to those of Sapphire Island, which glances at them across the water.

The email from her lawyer first thing this morning has Darcy’s stomach in knots. She didn’t sleep well last night, either. Charlie’s horrible WhatsApp, then this petition for full custody—it’s all she can think about. She has spent a great deal of her life doing what corporates call “strategic planning,” going to great lengths to ensure every part of her life is straightened out and shipshape, all the details the way she wants them. It was what made her so good at helping Jacob set up his company. She had zero experience in technology but taught herself, proving to be a fast learner. And it was Darcy who suggested that Jacob pivot to artificial intelligence; he’d wanted to go into gaming.

Her stomach plummets as she thinks of the phone call with Jacob. What is she returning home to? Three boys who prefer their father, and an ex-husband who never really loved her.

Did she love Jacob? She isn’t sure. She thought she did. She performed it so well that she almost convinced herself. And the friends they shared, the friends who have been so very busy of late, who barely speak to her now. Life after divorce feels so terribly lonely.

And now Jacob’s asking about Adrian Clifton…. It’s not good at all that he is asking these things.

Perhaps it was a mistake to come all this way , she thinks. Leaving the country has made her situation more vulnerable. But then, it has to be this way.

Tell them , she thinks, glancing at Kate and Camilla as they head toward the buffet. It has to be now .

“I’m going for a walk,” Camilla suddenly announces, stifling another yawn.

“You’re not having something to eat?” Kate says.

“I’ll grab something on the way back.” Camilla is already heading off along the beach.

“I fancy a cold drink,” Kate says, nodding at the restaurant.

Darcy slips her arm through Kate’s. “I’ll join you.”

They sit at a table overlooking the lagoon, their own resort shimmering on the other side. She notices green parrots sitting on the tree branches close by, the light catching their beautiful feathers.

“Can I ask you something?” Kate says then.

“Yes.”

“Do you remember I told you that someone has sent me roses every anniversary for the past twenty-two years?”

Darcy studies Kate’s face, trying to focus on what she’s saying. “I think so? Yes. Yes, I think you did.”

“Someone sent roses to my villa this morning.”

Darcy gasps, her attention now fully on her friend. “What, here? In the Maldives?”

Kate nods.

“Shit. Are you OK?”

“Well, no. Not really. I suppose I was actually looking forward to missing it this year. Being away from home…”

Darcy furrows her brow. Kate looks shell-shocked.

“So you think it’s malicious?” Darcy asks. “Not one of the victims’ families, perhaps?”

Kate frowns. “I don’t think so. I think it’s someone who resents the fact that I survived.”

“What about your parents, trying to reach out to you?”

Kate bristles. “Definitely not my parents. The name of the sender is always an anagram of my birth name, Briony Conley. It’s like a sick game.”

“Oh my God,” Darcy says. She squeezes Kate’s hand. “It must have felt terrifying, all those years you received them. Especially if you think they were sent out of spite.”

“It was,” Kate whispers. “It felt like a shameful secret. I felt I deserved them.”

She buries her face in her hands, and Darcy rubs her shoulder. “Oh, Kate,” she says. “That is heartbreaking.”

Darcy feels the words forming on her lips. It has to be now , she thinks. Tell her .

She opens her mouth to say it. She has prepared her reasoning. But even so, she knows this is both the most opportune and the worst time to tell Kate.

And so she switches gears, deciding instead to call attention to the thing that they’re all ignoring. She needs to prepare Kate for the truth, lead into it a little better.

“Did you end up chatting with Jade last night?” she asks. “After dinner?”

Kate cocks her head. “Yes?”

Darcy clears her throat, trying to think of the best way to phrase it. “I was just wondering… you know, the skirmish in the restaurant last night. Between Rob and Antoni.”

“What about it?”

“Camilla said that Rob was acting possessively toward Jade at the Pilates class,” Darcy says. “So why didn’t Jade, you know…?”

Kate cocks an eyebrow. “Why didn’t Jade what?”

“I’m just thinking that… Oh, never mind.”

“No, tell me,” Kate says. Darcy tries to find the right words. She’s making a total mess of it.

“OK. I’m probably wrong. But… I watched Jade last night. She was the one who approached Antoni at the restaurant, not the other way around.”

“So?”

“Well, she knows Rob better than anyone, doesn’t she? She had to have known what he would do if he saw her and Antoni chatting. And after what happened at the Pilates class…”

Kate stares at the ocean, her brow furrowed. “You think she deliberately wanted to get Rob worked up?”

“I’ve seen it before. Women who get off on pushing their man’s buttons.”

“Not a very feminist appraisal of the situation, though, is it?” Kate says. “Jade can talk to whomever she wants to.”

“Kate, come on,” Darcy says, folding her arms. “This is me talking. I agree with you a hundred percent. And, like I said, I’m probably wrong. I suppose going through a divorce has made me look at people differently.”

Kate appears to be thinking now, mulling it over. “She did approach Antoni, didn’t she?”

Darcy holds her in a long, regretful look. “I was just thinking how Jade seems to be this… you know… victim of violence, a beautiful young woman ensnared by a cruel, jealous man. But I’m wondering if it’s really as simple as that. Maybe there’s something more to it.” She sighs sadly. “Things are never that black-and-white, are they?”

She watches Kate process this. “No,” Kate admits finally, her eyes scanning the sea. “They’re not.”

“No sign of Antoni,” a voice cuts in.

Darcy glances up to see Camilla looking pained, not like herself at all.

“Are you all right?” Kate asks, clearly thinking the same thing.

“He said he liked to kayak over here,” Camilla says, pulling a chair from another table and sitting with them. “I thought I’d see him.”

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Kate says.

“Have a drink,” Darcy says. “This is meant to be a celebration, remember? A new start. We’ve only six days left. It’ll fly by.”

Camilla looks agitated, so Darcy rises and heads to the bar, returning a few minutes later with a tray of colorful drinks.

“Five drinks?” Kate says as Darcy sets the tray down on the table. “Are we expecting company?”

“I thought Camilla might need a little extra Dutch courage,” Darcy says. “So I got a couple of extra Negronis. I’m sure we can manage those between us?”

“Cheers, love.” Camilla raises her drink in a toast. They each lean forward, clinking their glasses.

“Sorry I’ve spoiled it a bit,” Camilla says. “Antoni will probably turn up at dinner tonight with another girl on his arm and pretend he never met me.”

“Oh, don’t be silly,” Darcy says. “He doesn’t seem like the kind of man who would be that callous.”

Camilla sips her drink. “Oh, it’s not callous. It’s just holiday sex.”

“I think I should be the one apologizing,” Kate says. “I had a panic attack the first second here.”

“Don’t apologize,” Camilla says. “I got a shag out of it. Hey, maybe you can do it again and see if Darcy can get one, too.”

Darcy gives a shrill laugh.

“Oh, come on,” Camilla says. “What’s a girls’ holiday if there isn’t sex involved?”

“Better?” Kate says, and Camilla rolls her eyes.

“I don’t think I’m ready for that sort of thing,” Darcy says, studying her drink. “I think it’ll take a while before I feel ready to date again.”

“Nonsense,” Camilla says. “It’s like… wild swimming.”

“Wild swimming?” Kate repeats.

“You can’t go in a toe at a time. You just have to jump straight in, otherwise you lose your nerve.”

Darcy isn’t convinced. “Oh, I doubt there are many single men out there eager to date a woman with three children.”

“Who said anything about dating?” Camilla says. “I was talking about shagging.”

“They’re separate activities, are they?”

“Oh, mate, completely !”

“Kate,” Darcy says, changing the subject. Sex isn’t one of her priorities. She and Jacob had barely slept together in years. “How’s your book going, lovely?”

“Ugh,” Kate says.

“That bad, is it?”

“Haven’t you heard?” Camilla tells Darcy, spilling some of her drink as she changes position. “Two things you never ask a writer—if they’ve written anything you should have heard of, and how their latest book is going.”

“Can you back out of it?” Darcy asks.

“It’s not that bad, honestly,” Kate says. “It’s just a bit triggering , as the kids say.”

“Babe,” Camilla says sympathetically, “that’s shit. Why’s it triggering?”

“I have to research psychopathic killers. The main character’s one and I need to show how his brain works. It sounded interesting to begin with, but…” She trails off, fighting to keep her tone light.

“Ted Bundy,” Camilla says. “Just make your character like him. Charming, attractive, evil. No more research needed.”

“What makes a psychopath a psychopath?” Darcy asks, finishing her drink. She’s feeling better now, the email and Charlie’s WhatsApp message fading into the distance.

“They don’t give a shit,” Kate says. “But in all the wrong ways.”

“I think I heard that Abraham Lincoln was a psychopath,” Darcy adds.

“Abraham Lincoln?” Camilla exclaims. “But wasn’t he all for the people, of the people , et cetera?”

Kate nods. “Yes, but that’s the Jekyll-and-Hyde thing. They’re not monsters all the time.”

“So it’s like a part-time job,” Camilla surmises. “What about women? Why is it always men who are psychopaths?”

“The research only ever looked at males,” Kate says. “Like autism. But they say one in a hundred people is a psychopath, so chances are you know one.”

“I’m one,” Camilla asserts, folding her arms, and Kate laughs. “I’m not kidding. Two days without Pilates and I’d knife a granny.”

Darcy laughs hard, a head-thrown-back belly laugh. Kate joins her, and then Camilla. The glasses are empty, the sun is high, the trees shifting and glittering with colorful birds. Darcy reminds herself that she isn’t lonely, not at all. She is here, in this beautiful place, with two of the finest women she has ever met.

And today, she will tell them the truth. Because she’s been lying to them both all along.

IN DARCY’S VILLA, SHE ASKS them both to join her in the living room.

“Is something the matter?” Kate asks, sitting down in one of the armchairs. Darcy flinches, seeing how on edge Kate is. She sits down opposite, clasping her hands tightly together.

“Well… there was something I wanted to tell you both.”

“What?” Camilla asks. She can’t seem to bring herself to sit down.

Darcy hesitates before answering. “Adrian.”

Kate looks puzzled. “Adrian Clifton?”

“We can do it later, or…”

Camilla glances from Kate back to Darcy. “Well, it sounds like something that can’t wait, really. Why didn’t you mention it earlier?”

Darcy bites her lip. “I didn’t want to ruin the holiday, and then the trip today… and you seemed so caught up with finding Antoni….”

“So?” Camilla says, folding her arms, shoulders high. “What did Adrian say?”

“He wants to meet with us all later,” she says. “On Zoom. At nine o’clock London time.”

“Tonight?” Camilla says, shocked. “Has something happened?”

Kate’s mouth falls open. “Has there been a development in the investigation?”

“There has,” Darcy says, folding her hands between her knees. “Adrian has found someone whom he believes was involved in the murders.”

“Oh my God,” Kate whispers.

“Who?” Camilla spits. “Fuck nine o’clock fucking London time, tell us now!”

Darcy retrieves her laptop from beside the sofa and sets it on the table in front of them. A few moments later, she opens an email from Adrian and clicks on an attachment. An image of a man pops up on the screen, taken from a height as he is getting out of a car.

“No.” Camilla leans forward and squints at the image. “No fucking way,” she says, her voice a low growl.