The front door slammed.
He was gone.
Savannah let herself sag against the bathroom sink and threw the codeine and paracetamol combination tablets into a glass, added tap water. A shot of caffeine would help too. And some sugar, just a hint. She and Clary could be a bit late today, couldn’t they?
As she drank down the medication, she caught sight of herself: her face a little clammy from the pain but, otherwise, she looked like she always did. Her hair perfect, the elegantly androgynous grey linen shift dress hanging perfectly from her shoulders. Calum’s big engagement ring glinted in the morning light.
Another beautiful day shone in through the windows. Savannah closed her eyes for one blessed moment and tried to breathe. As always, her breath stayed in her chest, high up. She found it impossible anymore to breathe the way she used to in yoga, deeply into her belly. It was as if her very breath was just about reaching into her body, keeping her alive, but always alert. Alert for danger.
Honeymoons were supposed to be wonderful. And this one was.
‘It’s bliss, isn’t it?’ she’d asked Calum when it was just the two of them alone in the beautiful villa with its view of the beach in Thailand and its own tiny infinity pool just outside.
Savannah unpacked her suitcase which had been beautifully packed by Indy, the family’s best packer. Indy used tissue paper.
Imagine: tissue paper, thought Savannah happily.
The tissue-paper-wrapped garments were themselves enclosed in little suitcase bags in pale purple, special cubes to keep things separate. It was part of Indy’s gift to her.
Each was zipped up with different types of garment inside: a zippy cube full of her bikinis; one with light T-shirts neatly folded; another with a couple of pretty camisoles to be worn with long flowy silk skirts in the evening, not a crease in sight. A cube filled with her lingerie.
Nobody could pack like Indy.
Calum had gone into the bathroom and while he was in there, Savannah had walked over to the double doors and opened them out, so that all she needed to do was step out onto the decking and walk into the pool. She thought, with a grin, perhaps they could skinny dip. Calum was tired, he hadn’t slept on the flight. Thailand was such a long way away, which was partly why she hadn’t wanted to go in the first place, because even though she was dying to see Thailand, it was such an enormously long trip for eight days. They were both so busy, both businesses manically busy. But Calum had insisted.
He had a friend, a wealthy friend, who’d gone there for his honeymoon.
‘It sounded completely amazing, you’d want to have seen the pictures,’ Calum said. ‘No, it’s got to be Thailand, I won’t hear of anything else.’ And she laughed.
‘You old romantic,’ she said, ‘wanting to go to the best honeymoon place ever.’
Eden had disagreed.
‘You don’t want a long flight, Savannah.’ She looked disapproving. ‘Why are you going so far if you’re this busy, if you’re going to come back absolutely shattered. And eight days is not enough to go that far.’
Eden didn’t get it, Savannah thought. They’d manage the jet lag. Together, they could manage anything.
She walked back in and called her husband.Husband, even the word excited her. How absolutely fabulous. He must be in the bathroom, she realised, and went back to her suitcase, looking around for the best bikinis. Here was a wonderful one, sort of a tie-dye thing that Indy had found for her. Trust Indy to find something so utterly wild and delicious. But the idea of skinny dipping thrilled her.
The villa was so hidden and secluded that nobody would see. So she stripped off her travelling clothes and stood naked at the double doors facing the beach
‘Savannah.’ It didn’t sound like him, his voice was guttural, low, angry. And then the flat of his hand slapped her across the face. ‘What the fuck are you doing stripping off in front of an open door? Anyone could see you.’
The floor came up to meet her. Savannah found herself sitting painfully on her hip and her hand went wonderingly to her face. Calum had hit her. It was like having a beloved friend turn around and scream at you, then turn into a face from a horror movie. And she was naked on the wooden floor of her honeymoon villa, with the painful imprint of her new husband’s hand on her cheek. None of it made sense. Her mind could not compute. How had this happened? Had she said something strange? Done something? Was it against the law to take off your clothes if all the doors weren’t locked in Thailand? Was that it, was he saving her? And then he was on the floor beside her.
He was stern: ‘Anyone could see in.’
She let him put his arms around her, but she was suddenly very aware of her nakedness and her vulnerability. She pulled herself into a ball but Calum wouldn’t allow this and was dragging her to her feet. The towel he’d had draped over one shoulder was wrapped around her. As if she was a creature to be covered up.
‘Go into the bathroom, sort yourself out.’ He was brisk, no nonsense. Not a word of apology. No ‘Oh gosh, what did I do? Are you hurt?’
‘You’ll be fine, ‘ Calum went on in the same brisk voice. ‘Perhaps we’ll eat in our room tonight.’
Her hand hovered around her face. He hadn’t said sorry that he’d hit her.
Or had he hit her? Was she imagining it?
No, she thought: she wasn’t. Calum’s hand had rapped against her face, palm first.
