‘I thought you were my friend.’
‘I am.’ But then my mind goes to the scar on Lukas’s cheek, just beginning to crust. I can only imagine what he’s said to her.
‘Whatever Ryan’s told you, he’s lying.’ I look her in the eye. ‘Believe me …’
She shakes her head. ‘Bye, Julia.’ She turns to leave.
I grip the barrier. For a second I think I could jump it, or push through, but already we’re attracting attention. A staff member is watching us, he’s stepping forward, as if he expects trouble.
I call instead. ‘Anna! Come back. Just for a minute. Let me explain!’
She looks over her shoulder. ‘Goodbye, Julia.’ She begins to walk away.
‘No!’ I say. ‘Wait!’
The guy in the uniform is standing right by us, now looking from one to the other. Anna doesn’t turn round.
I cast about for a way to convince her. I’m desperate. I need something that proves I know him as Lukas, have slept with him. Then I remember.
‘He has a birthmark. On his leg. His thigh. His upper thigh.’
At first I don’t think she’s heard me, but then she stops walking. She turns, then slowly comes back towards the barrier that separates us.
‘A birthmark.’ I point to my own body. ‘Just here.’
At first she says nothing. She shakes her head. She looks hurt, devastated. ‘You … bitch.’
The last word is hissed. Of course she hates me, and I hate myself for having to do this to her.
‘Anna! … I’m sorry …’
She’s standing just on the other side of the barrier now. If either of us were to reach over we could touch each other, yet she is utterly unreachable, as if the barrier between us were impenetrable.
We both remain utterly still, just staring. A moment later a voice cuts in with a jolt.
‘Is there some kind of a problem here?’
I look over. It’s the guard. He’s standing just beyond Anna. We both shake our head. ‘No. It’s fine.’ Dimly, I’m aware that I’m blocking the barrier, a queue is forming behind me.
‘Could you move along, please?’ He sounds so calm; his politeness clashes with what’s going on.
I put my hand out, palm up, as if offering something. ‘Anna, please.’ She looks at it as if it’s an unknown object, dangerous, alien. ‘Anna?’
‘Why are you doing this?’ She’s crying now, tears pouring down her cheeks. ‘I thought we were friends …’
‘We were.’ I’m desperate, insistent. ‘We still are.’ I wish I could make her understand, let her know I’m doing this because I do love her, not because I don’t. I get out my phone. ‘He’s not the person you think he is. Ryan, I mean. Believe me.’
‘You have everything. From the moment I told you we were engaged you haven’t been able to even pretend to be happy for me. I feel sorry for you. D’you know that?’
‘No—’ I begin, but she interrupts me.
‘I’ve had enough.’ She turns to go, and I try to grip her arm. The guy watching us steps forward; again he asks us to move along.
‘Give me a second, will you? Please?’
I have to make Anna understand, before she gets on the train and disappears back to Paris and everything is lost. Otherwise she’ll marry this man and ruin her life. It hits me that, even if I succeed, Lukas will carry out his threat, send Hugh the pictures. Whatever happens I might lose everything.
I feel myself slip back into the blackness, but I know I can’t. This is my last chance to do the right thing.
‘Wait a minute. I need you to hear something.’ The rest of the station disappears; I can think of nothing else. It’s just me and her. My words come out in a rush. ‘He’s … I know him as Lukas … he’s the one I met through the website you told me about … he … he’s … he’s got to Connor. He’s been following him … following me, too … he’s flipped, I swear …’
‘Liar.’ Over and over again she says it. ‘You’re a liar. A liar.’
‘I can prove it.’ I hold my phone in front of me. ‘Just listen to this. Please. And then—’
‘Miss. I’m going to have to ask you to move out of the way. Now.’
He steps between us. My desperation turns to anger; the world comes back in a furious rush. The station seems noisy and I don’t know whether Anna will be able to hear my recording. A small crowd has now gathered, on both sides of the barrier, staring at us. A man has taken his phone out and is taking pictures.
‘Please! This is important.’ I’m fumbling with my phone, unlocking the screen, opening the file. ‘Please, Anna? For Kate?’
She stares. It’s calm, suddenly, and then the guard asks me again to move away. This is my last chance.
‘Just give her this. Please?’
‘Miss—’ he begins, but Anna interrupts him. She’s holding out her hand.
‘I’ll listen. I don’t know what you want, but I’ll listen.’
I hand the phone to the man standing between us, and he passes it to Anna.
‘Press play. Please?’ She hesitates, then does so. She stands, her head craned forward. The section I’d selected is ready. My voice, his voice. Just as it’d been in the taxi. She’s too far away and I can’t hear what she’s listening to, but I know it by heart: ‘… a nice little arrangement … I don’t love her.’ She plays enough, just a few moments, then it ends. She crumples. It’s as if all the tension of the last few minutes has caused her to snap.
‘I’m sorry.’
She looks at me. She’s crushed. She seems diminished, empty. All emotion is squeezed out. I wish I could reach out, comfort her. I can’t bear the thought of doing this to her and then sending her on her way. Back home. Alone.
Then she speaks.
‘I don’t believe you. It doesn’t even sound like him. Ryan’s right.’
I see the doubt on her face. She’s not sure.
‘Listen again. Listen—’
‘It’s not him.’ Her voice falters, broken. ‘It can’t be.’
Her free hand goes to my phone, though. She presses the play button, tries to turn up the volume.
‘Love Anna? … I don’t love her.’
‘Anna. Please …’ There’s a hand on my arm, someone tugging at the sleeve of my jacket, trying to drag me away.
‘Anna?’
She looks up at me, then. The expression on her face is chilling, her eyes wide with disbelief and pure horror. It’s as if I’m watching all of her plans evaporate, taking flight like nervous birds, leaving nothing behind.
‘I’m sorry.’
‘We need to talk.’ It’s so quiet I can barely hear her. The crowd around us senses the breaking tension and begins to move, to go back to their day. The bubble of drama that had formed in front of them has burst. Anna turns to the official standing between us and says, ‘Can you let me back through? Please? I need to talk to my friend …’
Time seems to speed up. The world has been on pause, held in the thrall of her fury, and my desperation. But now it’s all been released; it crashes in. The noise of the station, the bustle and chatter, the old piano that’s been installed on the concourse and which somebody is playing badly, the same phrase, again and again. I take her arm and she doesn’t resist; together we go, up the escalator, supporting each other. We’re silent. I suggest a coffee, but she shakes her head, says she needs a drink. I need one, too, I tell myself I could, just this once, but I force the thought away. Anna is crying, her voice cracks as she tries to speak. She fumbles for a tissue and we go upstairs to the bar. I feel wretched, my guilt is almost overwhelming. All I can think is, I’ve done this. This is my fault.
We sit under the umbrellas. Behind me the door leads to the hotel, to the room in which Lukas and I first had sex. Memories of our affair are everywhere, and I look away, trying to ignore them. Anna is murmuring something about her train. ‘I’m going to miss it,’ she says, stating the obvious. ‘I want to go home.’
I hand her a tissue. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll help. You can stay with me, or—’
‘No. Why would I want to do that?’
She looks angry. It’s as if things are finally coalescing for her, the hurt she feels condensing, becoming easier to comprehend. I want to do something, make some small gesture, however meaningless.