‘Are you okay?’ Jill asks him in a low voice.
He realizes he’s sweating, even in the cold, and he’s breathing rapidly– too rapidly for the leisurely pace they’re walking. He focuses on the backs of Lara and Ben in front of them, and says curtly, ‘I’m fine.’
Once they are back in their hotel room, Jill hisses at Ted, ‘Do you see what I mean? She can’t stop bringing it up. Why the hell are they even here?’ Lara and Ben’s sudden appearance in Venice feels like a threat.
‘Yes, I see what you mean,’ Ted says. ‘But how the fuck can we find out if it’s them? If it is, they’re never going to admit it.’
Jill is more frightened than ever since they realized that John Burnley isn’t the one behind their torment. It could be Lara and Ben. It could be Ramirez. It could even be Nadya. Or Min. It could be anyone, she thinks, fighting panic. ‘We need help,’ Jill says.
‘What do you mean?’ Ted asks sharply.
‘We’re not going to be able to find out who this is on our own.’ She approaches him. ‘We need to hire a professional– a private investigator. To find out who is behind this.’ Ted looks at her doubtfully. She presses her point. ‘We don’t have to let them know what this person has on us. We just get him to find out who it is.’
‘Right,’ Ted says, slightly sarcastic. ‘And then when they turn up dead, the investigator has no inkling of who might have done it? And doesn’t feel a need to report it? I don’t think so.’
She deflates. He’s right. She’s not thinking clearly. She’s barely slept since they found the cameras– was it only five days ago? This has got inside her head, has changed her. It’s changed Ted too. She sinks down weakly onto the bed and covers her face with her hands. ‘What are we going to do?’ She begins to cry. She feels Ted pull her into his arms and hold her. She doesn’t resist, but she doesn’t feel the peace she used to feel when in his arms.
How has it all come to this? They thought their plan was foolproof. They thought they’d gotten away with it. But someone knows what they’ve done, and it feels like the walls are closing in on them from all sides. They could end up in prison. She can’t bear the thought. A small cell, a cage. Trapped with a bunch of animals, for the rest of her life. Prison clothes and terrible food, the smells, the lack of privacy. The shame and monotony. Nothing beautiful around her. She’ll kill herself first. But if she and Ted go down for this, she silently vows that they will bring their blackmailer down with them. Whoever it is isn’t going to get away with it. They have to find out who it is.
They hear the ping of a text on Jill’s phone. They look at each other in fear. Jill grabs the phone and reads the text. It’s Lara, and she wants to meet Jill for coffee the next morning at Florian’s, just the two of them.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
THE NEXT MORNING,after an endless night of staring sightlessly at the Grand Canal, Jill walks alone to Caffè Florian. The day is cold and grey, with a light rain starting. She hadn’t wanted to meet Lara in the grand hotel lobby and walk there together. She needs some time alone, a brisk walk to clear her head and calm her nerves. Why does Lara want to see her? But maybe a coffee is just a coffee. Now she crosses St Mark’s Square and approaches the famous coffeehouse.
She slips beneath the stone arches; there are no tourists sitting outside now. She steps inside, out of the weather. Jill knows that famous people have idled over coffee here– Dickens, Byron, even Casanova. Poets and lovers. Jill imagines conspirators and murderers meeting here. It probably looks much like it did hundreds of years ago, a labyrinth of rooms, one leading to another, richly decorated with gold accents, paintings and mirrors, and furnished with small marble tables, velvet chairs and banquettes. She can already smell the rich fragrance offreshly roasting coffee. She wanders through the rooms, searching for Lara, realizing that she has arrived a little late.
She finds her sitting by a window in a room fronting onto St Mark’s. She’s gazing out the window toward the square, thoughtfully watching the pigeons, unaware of Jill observing her.
If only they were still friends, Jill thinks. If only none of this had ever happened. If she could go back in time and change things, she would. She wishes they’d never gone on the boat that day. So what if they’d had to mortgage the brownstone? She is again reminded that it is no longer their sanctuary. It has been violated–theyhave been violated. She doesn’t like being there any more. All of it has been for nothing. She feels as if she has sold her soul.
As if she senses Jill standing there, Lara turns from the window and sees her. Jill forces a smile and walks over and sits down across from her, hoping that the brisk walk and the cold air have put some colour in her cheeks. She must act as if all is well.
But the first thing Lara says is, ‘You look tired, Jill. Are you okay?’
‘I’m fine.’ She gazes around the room, anxious to distract Lara’s attention from her. ‘I love this place, don’t you?’
‘I do. If these walls could talk,’ Lara says, ‘think of the stories they could tell.’
Jill wonders if Lara is trying to imply something with that. A waiter arrives and they each order aCaffè del Doge– coffee, chocolate, and hazelnut cream.
‘It’s so lovely,’ Lara says, smiling, ‘being here in Venice.’
Jill smiles back, barely paying attention. She’s thinking that if Lara and Ben are behind this, they are never going to admit it. They will ask to be paid in Bitcoin or something, something untraceable. And Lara will continue to pretend to be a supportive, concerned friend, all while bleeding them dry. Jill feels her smile draining away as her thoughts run on. And Lara might arrange to return the digital files, Jill thinks, but she will keep a copy. Of course she will. She’llsaythat she’s given them the only copy. And then some time will pass and the texts, the demands, will begin again.OF COURSE WE KEPT COPIES. AND NOW WE WANT MORE MONEY.But Jill and Ted will never knowfor surewho is behind it. They won’t be able to eliminate their blackmailer. And it will drive them mad. Jill knows she’s half mad already.
She must look half crazy, because now Lara leans forward, her face full of concern and asks again, ‘Jill, are you all right?’
For a moment she can’t answer, frozen in her fear and paranoia.
Lara reaches out and puts her hand on hers. ‘Jill, if there’s anything troubling you, maybe I can help. You can confide in me, you know. You can trust me.’
Jill draws her hand back. She fears Lara is playing some kind of sick game, pretending to care, gaslighting her. ‘No, there’s nothing. If there were, I’d tell you. You’re my best friend.’
While Lara is having coffee with Jill at Florian’s, Ben is shopping in a leather goods store. He needs a new wallet, and this is an excellent little shop. He tries on various pairs of gloves as well. Having made his choices, he takes his purchases to thecash register. As he’s reaching for his credit card he receives a text from Lara. She is finished with Jill and wants to meet. He thought she’d be longer. He texts her back and they agree to meet in front of the Doge’s Palace.
The light rain has stopped, and the sun is coming out. As he strolls to meet his wife, he thinks about Ted and Jill. Everything has been a little weird since the accident on the boat. They don’t believe Ted and Jill are responsible for Greg going overboard. It’s absurd. But his wife is right– the two of them do seem particularly on edge. Even he could see it. He’s not sure it was such a good idea to join them here in Venice. Maybe they wanted to be alone.
He sees Lara walking toward him, a little breathless. He approaches her and kisses her on the cheek. ‘How was your coffee with Jill?’ he asks, as she takes his arm and they begin to stroll.
