Page 57 of The Blue Hour

Opening night?Julianwas going toopening night? While she was told to stay at home, because she wouldn’t enjoy herself, because Vanessa couldn’tlook afterher?

AndMorocco? WithIzzy? That would happen over Grace’s dead body. A shallow bowl, perfectly weighted and glazed in icy blue, went flying.

‘What the fuck are you doing?’

Grace yelped in fright and spun around, knocking her hip against the table as she did, sending another piece crashing to the ground.

Julian was standing in the doorway, arms folded across his chest, lip curling. ‘Butterball? Whatareyou up to?’

Grace felt the earth tilt beneath her feet. ‘What are you doing here?’ She took a couple of steps towards him. ‘Vanessa told you to leave.’

‘I know, and I did. Got all the way down to Fort Augustus, popped into the petrol station and realized I’d left my wallet behind. I had enough cash to fill up the car, but my phone was out of juice and I worked out that by the time I got back, the tide would be in. This fucking place!’ He grinned at her. ‘I don’t know how you stand it. I had a snooze in the car and then I drove all the way back up here. Have you seen it?’ He walked towards her, squatting down to retrieve a saucer-sized disc of porcelain from the floor. ‘My wallet?’

‘No,’ Grace said, ‘and I’ve cleaned the house, so you must have left it somewhere else.’

Julian placed the piece of porcelain on the table. ‘I don’t think so,’ he said softly. He took another step closer and reached out, taking hold of Grace’s arm, looping his fingers around her right wrist. She tried to pull away, but he tightened his grasp. ‘So, what’s going on, butterball? Why are you up here smashing Nessa’s things?’

Grace’s heart beat painfully hard. She struggled to pull away from him but he held on. ‘I wasn’t smashing anything, it was an accident, yousawthat, you startled me and I knocked against the table—’

‘That might have been an accident,’ Julian said, wrapping his whole hand around her wrist now, squeezing tightly, ‘but the first time wasn’t. Or,’ he looked around, at the shards on the floor, ‘or was that actually thesecondtime? Christ, how many pieces have you broken?’

Grace was starting to panic; she could feel darkness closing in at the edge of her vision, as though she were entering a tunnel. ‘I didn’t mean to …’ She thought she might cry, and the thought appalled her. She would not be able to bear the humiliation of breaking down in front of him.

‘What’s happening?’ Julian’s voice was like treacle. ‘What’s caused this little tantrum?’ He looked around quizzically until finally his gaze came to rest on the note clutched in Grace’s hand. ‘Oh,’ he said, ‘that. Poor Grace. Are you feeling left out?’ He mocked a pout. ‘Upset about our holiday plans? Did she tell you she’s coming to Venice with me for her birthday? We thought we’d stay at the Cipriani like we did when we were on honeymoon. We might actually try to see a bit of Venice this time. Or we might just stay in the room and fuck.’

‘She’s not going to go away with you,’ Grace said. ‘She’d never do that, she … let go of me!’

But still he held on, his grip tight and painful. ‘Ah, but yousee, that’s the thing about Nessa. No matter how she tries, she can’t deny herself that.’ He licked his lips, looking at Grace from beneath lowered lids. ‘She always opens up for me.’ He laughed, a soft chuckle. ‘I’ve got a room for us on opening night, too. So we can celebrate. It’s a shame you won’t be there. I think she genuinely feels bad about it, but she just couldn’t bear it, the thought of you there in some hideous trouser suit, lowering the tone.’

The tears ran down Grace’s face unchecked. She couldn’t stomach it – the heavy scent of his aftershave she’d smelt on Vanessa’s sheets, the stink of tobacco on his breath, the mocking twist of his lip – not for a second longer. She wrenched her arm free of his grasp and tried to flee, but her trembling knees buckled and she stumbled against one of the canvases leaning against the wall.

‘Careful,’ Julian said, ‘don’t want to do any more damage.’ He grinned. ‘Do you know,’ he said, ‘that I sold a painting of hers once without her permission? Has she told you about that? I was short of cash and in a bit of a fix and so I flogged one of her pieces. I got a good price for it, too – but she didn’t talk to me formonths.’ He turned away, walking slowly towards the studio door. ‘I can’t even begin to think what she’s going to do when she finds out what you’ve been up to. I suspect you might find yourself banished from paradise.’

There was a moment, then, when everything stilled. The gulls fell silent and the wind dropped, and Julian stood silhouetted in the doorway, looking out towards a shimmering sea. And then the sun dipped behind a cloud, and the world went into black and white; Grace must have made a sound, a shivering gasp, perhaps, or maybe she trod on a shard of broken pottery as she approached, because Julian turned his head a little, just enough for Grace to see the shock register on his face as she swung the mason’s hammer, smashing it into his temple and shattering his skull.

41

Becker rises before the sun is up. He makes himself a cup of coffee, and slips out the front door into a world scrubbed clean. The storm has blown itself out, the air is cold and fresh and tangy with salt. He makes his way over to the wooden bench on the hillside which overlooks the channel and there, for a quiet half-hour, he watches the sky above the hills to the east turn from fiery orange to a rich, yolky yellow. When he glances over his shoulder he sees that the sunrise has set the house alight, its glow reflecting in the kitchen windows. Ahead, the tide is high, the channel molten gold. Then slowly, gradually, the colour begins to leach away, the clouds mellowing, now pale orange, now primrose, the sky finally settling on a clear and hopeful blue.

His mug is not long empty when he hears the front door open. A few moments later, Grace appears, holding a steaming pot of coffee. She walks across, refills his cup and sits at his side. ‘Quite a storm,’ she says, glancing quickly at him before looking back at the sea. ‘Did you manage to get much sleep?’

‘I slept fine, thank you,’ he says tersely. Without looking at her, he asks, ‘I don’t suppose you’ve seen my car key? I couldn’t find it last night.’

She frowns at him. ‘No, I don’t recall seeing it … Might youhave dropped it in Vanessa’s room during the kerfuffle with the gull? I’ll have a look in a minute, perhaps it’s under the bed?’ He can feel her stealing glances at him as she asks, ‘I was wondering whether you’d like to walk up to the rock today?’

‘There won’t be time,’ Becker says. ‘I need to pack up the car, I need—’

‘Oh,’ she cuts him off. ‘Pity. We’ve a good day for it at last.’ Becker says nothing and glances at his watch. ‘It’ll be a few hours before you’re able to cross,’ Grace says, ‘and I’m afraid we’ve still no internet, but if you wanted to call anyone, you might get signal up beyond the wood, you usually can …’

Becker grits his teeth. He’s loath to admit it but she’s right – he can’t leave straight away, and this might be the last time he comes to Eris for a while. He would really like to be able to take some photographs from a few of the places Vanessa loved to paint. And he would also like to be able to talk to Helena.

He looks at Grace, who is smiling up at him, anxious but hopeful, and for a moment he sees her as he did when he first arrived here – a lonely, frightened old woman. He softens, thinks of the lengths he went to to find that little landscape his mother loved so much – what has Grace really done, in the end, other than cling on to all that remains of someone she adored?

‘All right,’ he says. ‘I would really love to see the view from the rock.’

‘Wonderful!’ Grace says, relief written all over her face. ‘We can take a bit of a tour, if you like, we can visit the vantage point forSouthandDarknesson the way – that’s just up on the bluff there.’ She indicates a point on the southern coast of the island, a little way west of the house. ‘The views are quite extraordinary.’

After more coffee and a couple of slices of toast each, they set off. Their pace is leisurely, as Grace has plenty to point out: here was Vanessa’s favourite sunbathing spot, over there DouglasLennox got into a drunken fist fight with one of Vanessa’s old boyfriends, just here you can see in the ground the imprint of some ancient habitation.

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