Page 66 of The Villa

Mari’s stomach sinks. She knows this story. Pierce told her his version of it, how Franny had, for the first time in her life, lied to her parents to go to a club in Soho. How Pierce had been playing that night. How he’d spotted her in the front row wearing too much makeup and a dress that didn’t really fit since she’d had to borrow it from a friend and thought how pretty she’d looked.

How sad.

And even though she hadn’t wanted to, Mari had imagined it so many times, wondering if after the show, he’d held her face the way he’d held Mari’s.

How did I go so long without knowing you?

“Next thing you know, Franny isn’t back at school. Family’s frantic, calling everyone, but, sure enough, she’d run off with that prick. Married him in Scotland, and then he knocked her up. And what did he do the second he met someone else, huh? Took off, said that Franny was boring now, that he didn’t want to be married anymore, that he wanted to be free. That he wantedherto be free, too. And now I guess she is, ain’t she? All for some stupid cunt who never actually loved her, and she was just dumb enough to believe his shit.”

Mari shakes her head, but before she can say anything else, Pierce is suddenly there, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

“What did you say about Franny?”

Johnnie whirls around, and Pierce comes into the hallway, his face a mask of fury Mari has never seen before.

“You heard me!” Johnny yells back. “Think you’re God’s bloody gift because you can play a fuckin’ guitar, but all you do is fuck shit up. You fucked up your wife’s life, you’re fucking up Mari’s and Lara’s, and you’re fucking upmine. TellingNoel I can’t play guitar on the album because it’ll be ‘out of place.’ Didn’t think I heard you, did you? Probably forgot I was even fucking here. But what kind of pretentious bullshit is that, huh?”

Johnnie swipes at his nose with one hand, practically vibrating as he stares down Pierce.

“Yeah, well, maybe I didn’t want some low-life dealer scum fucking up the vibe with his three shitty chords, ever think about that?” Pierce says, and Johnnie throws back his head, barking out a laugh.

“Rich coming from you, mate. At my door every day, asking if I’ve got more, but now I’m ‘low-life dealer scum’? Well, you still owe this lowlife ten quid, you dickhead. Or hell, maybe I’ll start giving it to you for free, hope you fucking top yourself. Say hi to the missus when you do, yeah?”

Pierce’s face is white now, and then he’s rushing at Johnnie, and Johnnie has his clenched fist raised, and Mari hears herself, shrill.

“Stop it! Both of you!”

Pierce grabs Johnnie’s shirt just as Johnnie’s fist connects with Pierce’s jaw, making a sick, fleshy sound that makes Mari’s stomach roll.

She can hear Elena in the kitchen, shrieking for Noel, and Lara comes down the stairs, still in her pajamas, her face pale.

“Mari, what—”

“Pierce, stop it!” Mari yells again, trying to grab his shoulder, but he spins around, hard, sending her tumbling to the floor. She hears Johnnie’s roar and another one of those dull thwacks, and then Noel—she’s never been so happy to see Noel Gordon—finally appears, dragging Johnnie away from Pierce with surprising strength.

“Get a fucking hold of yourselves, both of you!” he barks,none of his usual lazy charm now, just the innate sense of authority that comes from your family owning huge swathes of England.

Johnnie skids on the stone floor in his sneakers, and Pierce is on his knees, panting, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. Both of them are glaring at each other, but they don’t make any moves in the other’s direction, and after a moment Noel lets go of Johnnie’s collar.

Pierce rises to his feet and makes for the stairs, swiping at the blood on his mouth. It leaves a crimson streak across his cheek, but he doesn’t seem to care, taking the stairs two at a time. “Fucking bullshit, man,” Mari hears him say. “Fuckingsickof this place.”

“Then leave!” Noel shouts up after him, and Mari’s stomach clenches.

No.They can’t leave now. Not when she’s so near finishing the book. What if she leaves this house, and Victoria’s voice goes silent again?

She can’t let that happen, not now, not when she’s thisclose.

When she goes into the bedroom, she sees Pierce already angrily pulling things out of the wardrobe, slinging them onto the bed.

His head shoots up when he sees her, his blue eyes bloodshot. “Who the fuck does that arsehole think he is, talking about Franny?” he asks, but he doesn’t wait for an answer. “Like he knows. Like any of them know. Ilovedthat girl, okay? You think I wanted her to die? I just wanted her”—he slings another shirt onto the bed—“not to live the boring life her fucking parents wanted for her. She should’ve been able to do that without me, and it’s not my fault she couldn’t.”

Mari’s mouth is dry, her hands shaking, and she approaches Pierce slowly, resting her hands on his back. He’s burning up,his skin hot against her palms, and she thinks again of that long night, holding Billy against her.

“Calm down,” she tells Pierce now, but he shakes his head, pointing at the chest of drawers.

“Get your things. We’re not staying one more bloody night in this nuthouse.”

Mari’s eyes go to her notebook, still open on her desk. “Don’t be silly,” she tells Pierce, trying to keep her voice light. “We’re supposed to be here another two weeks. We can’t buy new tickets, we don’t have the money.”

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