25
FLISS
Fuck.
Oh fuck.
I feel hot and cold. I didn’t see this coming. I never thought that at this late stage she would find out. We’re on the island. We’re nearly there. We’re so nearly there.
We’re standing outside the airport on Ikonos, our luggage assembled in a pile. Lorcan is at the taxi rank, negotiating a fare to the Amba Hotel, and I gesture to him to keep an eye on Noah.
“Hi, Lottie,” I manage, but my voice has stopped working. I swallow several times, trying to regain my cool. What do I say? What can I say?
“It was you.” Her voice is lacerating. “You’ve been trying to stop Ben and me from getting it together, haven’t you? You were behind the butlers and the single beds and the peanut oil. Who else would know about peanut oil but you?”
“I …” I rub my face. “Listen. I … I just—”
“Why would you do that? Why would anyone do that? It’s my honeymoon!” Her voice rises to a shriek of anguish and fury. “My honeymoon! And you ruined it!”
“Lottie. Listen.” I gulp. “I thought … I was doing it for the best. You don’t realize—”
“Doing it for the best?” she cries. “Doing it for the best?”
OK. This is going to be tough to explain in the thirty seconds I have before she screeches again.
“I know you’ll probably never, ever forgive me,” I begin rapidly. “But you were going to try for a honeymoon baby and I was so afraid it would be a mistake, and I know what it’s like on the other side, postdivorce; it’s absolutely miserable, and I couldn’t bear that to happen to you—”
“I was about to have the hottest sex of my life!” she yells. “The hottest sex of my life!”
OK, she didn’t listen to a word, did she?
“I’m sorry,” I say feebly, dodging a man wheeling a huge suitcase bound with raffia.
“You always have to interfere, Fliss! Just because you think you know best. You’ve always been the same, my whole life, interfering, telling me what to do, bossing me around.…”
Suddenly her words sting me. It’s not as if I’ve done this for my own benefit.
“Look, Lottie. I’m sorry to be the one to tell you,” I say, as calmly as I can manage. “But since we’re discussing it, Ben isn’t planning to be a faithful husband. He’s two-timing you with a girl called Sarah; Lorcan told me.”
There’s a small, shocked silence. However, if I was expecting her to capitulate at this piece of news, I was wrong.
“So what?” she lashes back. “So bloody what? Maybe …” She hesitates. “Maybe we have an open marriage! You didn’t think of that, did you?”
I’m so stunned, my mouth pops open like a fish. She’s right. I didn’t think of that. An open marriage? Crikey. I never thought of Lottie as the open-marriage type.
“And, anyway, what does Lorcan know about anything?” Lottie starts on a fresh tirade. “Lorcan’s a twisted control freak who’s been muscling in and wants to steal Ben’s company from him.”
“Lottie—” I’m still so confused by this view of Lorcan that I don’t know what to say. “Are you sure?”
“Ben told me. That’s why Ben’s selling his company, because Lorcan told him not to. So let’s not trust the word of Lorcan, shall we?” She spits out “Lorcan” as though it’s despicable.
There’s another silence. I feel so many conflicting emotions I’m almost paralyzed. There’s a lingering astonishment at Lottie’s version of Lorcan. But the strongest feeling is remorse. Wave after wave of remorse. She’s right: I knew nothing about the situation. I assumed far too much.
Maybe I really don’t know my little sister after all.
“I’m sorry,” I say at last, my voice low and abject. “I’m so sorry. I just thought that you might not be over Richard yet. And that you might find Ben wasn’t the man for you. I thought you might suddenly regret marrying him. And I thought that if things had gone too far and you’d conceived a baby, then it would be the most almighty mess. But I was wrong. Obviously. Please, please forgive me. Lottie?” There’s silence down the phone. “Lottie?”
26
LOTTIE
I hate her. Why is she always right? Why is she always right?
Tears have sprung to my eyes. I want to pour out the whole sorry story to her. I want to tell her that Ben isn’t the man for me, and I’m not over Richard, and I’ve never felt so miserable in all my life.