Until Death by C.M. Serpell

Author:C.M. Serpell [Serpell, C.M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gorse Books
Published: 2023-10-30T16:00:00+00:00

5

Theories

‘What’s wrong?’ Pia took the metro from the airport to Valencia and a train to Gandia, where Catherine picked her up to make the short journey to Oliva itself. As soon as Pia sat in the car and clicked her seatbelt in, she picked up on Catherine’s demeanour. Glancing sideways at Catherine, she noticed her friend’s teeth clenched and saw the lines in her forehead. ‘Come on. This is me. You know you can tell me anything.’

‘It’s Patrick. He’s back.’

Pia took a deep breath. Then pursed her lips as she considered her response.

‘He’s back, Pia. He’s back, and he’s come for me.’ Catherine’s hands gripped the steering wheel as she spoke, her knuckles white. Her voice increased a few octaves as she spoke again, the words tumbling out at speed. ‘He’s coming for us, and he knows about Josie, and he is going to take her from me. She will hate me forever.’

‘Pull in as soon as you can; Oliva can wait. I think we need to stop and talk. Somewhere we won’t be known, somewhere with a bar.’

‘No. We need to get back. I won’t be driven away from my home again. Or should I? Should I run? Maybe I should just find somewhere new. What should I do? What if he has found me, Pia?

Pia covered her friend’s hand on the gear stick and squeezed. ‘I don’t know what’s happened, but we will get through this. We will.’

They sat in silence for the rest of the journey, Pia stealing glances at her friend, who stared straight ahead. Leaving the parked car at an angle, they grabbed Pia’s bags and hurried up the alley to the side door and straight up to the flat. Catherine moved from room to room before closing the door at the top of the stairs and turning the rarely used lock.

‘What about Josie?’

‘She won’t be back until late; she’s out with friends. Mateo is with Adriana for the night – I think you met her last time?’ Pia nodded. Catherine moved to the kitchen, stretching up and pulling a box from atop the cupboards. She systematically laid the items on the coffee table; the guidebook, the earring – now housed in a small plastic pot, the Kindle, the scarf she had retrieved from the bin. ‘Look at these things; someone has been leaving them for me. The book, look at the book.’ Catherine’s voice became raised, in pitch and volume, as she pushed the book into Pia’s hands, open at the marked page. ‘The bell, the noises. Someone has been in the café putting this book on the table for me to find. They took the bell from the door; I lost my mind wondering where it was, and then they put it back.’

Pia frowned, looking at Catherine. ‘Sit down. Let me make us both a drink, and we can talk it through.’ Pia glanced at the items, recognising the scarf, having seen similar flapping around the necks of many football fans over the years.

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