Page 68 of The Bridesmaid
I swallow rice with effort.
‘I have another question,’ says Fitzwilliam. ‘Why are you still working as a forensic scientist?’
‘What’s wrong with me being a forensic scientist?’ I’m relieved he’s changed the subject.
‘I’d expect you to be running your own company. Your own lab, at least. At college we all assumed you were going to become a forensic lawyer, for one of the big law firms.’
I almost choke on my rice. ‘Youdid?’
‘You had the highest grades,’ he says, with a slight smile. ‘But you never started acting the part.’ He eyes the ruffled dress Georgia gave me. ‘You could easily have gotten into one of the big law firms, but you’re still working as a forensic technician with blue hair and a lip piercing, seven years after graduating.’
‘Yeah, well.’ I chew some more. ‘Those big firms have their entries all sewn up with people like you, all at the same country club.’
‘Holly,’ he says, ‘when the internships came around, I never saw you in the interview room. Did you even apply?’
I scuff sand with my foot. ‘It’s different for you,’ I say, looking into my rice. ‘Guys like you bounce back from rejection. People likeme don’t.’ I lift my eyes to the stars. ‘Why did you become a cop, anyway?’ I ask, keen to move the conversation away from myself. ‘You didn’t seem like the type to flunk out.’
‘No,’ he agrees. ‘There was an incident. At college.’ He sounds like he’s choosing his words very carefully. ‘Made me realize the importance of good policing. I took some time out, then decided that maybe lawyers weren’t changing the world for the good the way I thought. Decided I wanted to try and make a difference on the ground.’ He looks straight ahead to signal the subject is closed, and I feel a prickle of guilt. I misjudged him, I realize.
‘OK, I’m done eating.’ Fitzwilliam stands and proffers a hand to help me up.
We head down the plank gangway over the water, and I fill him in on the way, about Silky’s random disappearance, and addiction issues.
‘Let’s just get a good night’s sleep,’ says Fitzwilliam, unhappily. ‘I’ll come by first thing.’
‘See you tomorrow.’
After Fitzwilliam leaves, I turn out the lights, and flop, fully clothed, on the luxurious, lemony scented cotton sheets. The dredge of sand being pulled and dropped by the ocean swell sounds rhythmically outside. I imagine the graceful turns of the small sharks beneath my room, flitting in and out of the glowing shallow waters.
My mind drifts to Silky, out in the dark. I can’t help but imagine her, lost and frightened somewhere on the island.
As the exhaustion of the day knocks me into a deep, dreamless sleep, I picture Silky, alone, staring out onto a black sea under a starless sky.
Chapter Fifty-Three
PETRA
We’re all trooping obediently to Adrianna’s decadent new nightclub, photo-faces at the ready. It’s the one thing Kensington Manor School girls all seem to excel at – looking good in pictures.
Silky still isn’t here, and dark thoughts are tugging at me. I hate Silky. Hate how she drags me back to such dark places. She reminds me too much of the person I was before Leopold. As we file into the nightclub in a line, I’m reminded of the last time all five of us were alone like this. Three years ago. At Adrianna’s birthday.
It was midnight. We were shuffling in our masks through a torch-lit jungle trail. The palm leaves cutting jagged shapes against the moonlit sky. Dri had decided to host a midnight event at the Old Bell Tower just for us. We’d all received special invitations, but none of us could figure why we were chosen.
‘I don’t get it,’ Ophelia whispered to Silky. ‘Why is it just us? Where are the other guests?’
Silky didn’t answer. She was completely wasted, eyes rolling around her head. She kept fending away branches that weren’t there.
‘Some stupid game of Adrianna’s,’ I said, dismissively. But my stomach was churning.
I looked ahead to see a fire had been lit, deeper in the jungle, casting shadows against the stone wall of the Bell Tower. My pulse kicked up. Kensington Manor girls used to come here in their first year for their ritual ring giving. I’d heard they didn’t do that anymore.
Adrianna directed us to settle around the fire on little log seats. Flames crackled.
‘What’s going on?’ I tried to sound bored.
‘Truth or Dare.’ Adrianna’s voice came from under her mask. ‘Do you remember that game, Petra?’
I didn’t answer.
