Summer's End (7 page)

Marianne served a simple cold beef salad, which tasted delicious enough, but Emily experienced some trouble with her appetite. The moment Marianne had sat down opposite her, hunger had ceased to be of any importance in Emily’s world.

Instead of the black t-shirts Emily had only seen her in, Marianne wore a tight sleeveless blouse and the sight of it nearly cut of Emily’s air supply.

They’d moved a table out of the garden onto the beach and the early evening roar of the ocean was their only soundtrack. Emily didn’t really know where to begin or what to ask, so she resorted to pushing around a piece of meat on her plate.

“You don’t like it?” Marianne’s eyes flickered in the light of the oil lamp that dangled from a makeshift stand next to their table.

“On the contrary, really, it’s just—”

“Are you nervous?” The kindness oozing from Marianne’s face melted Emily’s heart. She could feel it turn to liquid in her chest. Where before a hardness had surrounded it, a line of defence she didn’t even knew she had, now it all lay open, ready for whatever was to come.

“A little.” For the first time, Emily felt her age. Opposite her sat a woman with so many more years of experience in life and love than her, and she thought it best to let Marianne do the talking. Wasn’t that what they were here for, anyway?

Not seeming very hungry herself, Marianne shoved her plate away and instead focused her attention on the bottle of beer that accompanied the dish.

“This is all rather romantic, of course.” She cast her eyes to the sky above. “It’s a full moon as well.”

“Perfect,” Emily said before nervously taking a swig from her beer.

“I don’t know what’s going on between us, Emily. I have no idea where you came from all of a sudden and why you make me feel things I haven’t felt in a long time… Well, have
allowed
myself to feel to be more exact.” She gave a tense chuckle. “That kiss this afternoon took me by surprise and at the same time, it felt as if it was a long time coming, even though you’ve barely just arrived.” Marianne bit her lip before continuing. “It takes someone very special to make me feel like that. I need you to know that.”

Emily nodded. To her surprise, Marianne pushed her chair back.

“Do you want to go for a walk?”

“I’d love to.”

They carried the dishes inside and Marianne locked the back door before they set off into the darkness.

“I was twenty-five when I met the love of my life.” Marianne’s fingers found Emily’s in the dark and entwined themselves with hers. “Her name was Ingrid and she swept me off my feet. Quite literally. We ran into each other while both turning a corner in a hurry. At first, I wanted to yell at this stranger who had the audacity to steal my precious time—I was that kind of person back then. But she changed me. Changed everything about me.”

Marianne’s fingers gripped tighter. They walked barefoot along the shoreline, the waves casually licking their toes.

“I was a junior investment banker and I thought I was terribly important managing other people’s money.” Marianne’s tight laugh sounded bitter in the night. “But all it took to disarm me was a smile.” She paused. “Gosh, that sounds terribly cheesy, but that’s how I’ve always remembered it.”

Marianne pointed at and old overturned boat away from the shoreline. “Let’s sit there for a moment.” She didn’t let go of Emily’s hand when they approached the boat and leaned against it for support.

“We fell in love. Made a life together. Were ridiculously happy together until…” Emily felt her stomach tighten. Marianne’s hand slipped out of her grasp.

“I killed her.”

Silence surrounded them. The night was black around them, except for a few night lights of beach houses. Emily thought she had misheard, but then Marianne repeated, “I killed the woman I loved more than anything in this world.”
 

MARIANNE

Marianne felt Emily stiffen next to her.
 

“It was a car wreck. We were in a crash and it was my fault. I shouldn’t have been driving in the state I was in, but I had insisted and we were fighting and I didn’t see...” She had to catch her breath. “I didn’t see the lorry because I was looking at her, I was berating her for losing money, and when we crashed I hardly had a scratch on me because her side of the car had taken the impact.”

Marianne closed her eyes and the tears sprang free. Her voice didn’t change pitch and her hands didn’t shake, but on the inside, on the back of her eyelids, it was all happening again.

“She died on the way to the hospital.” She swallowed away some tears. “And it was my fault. I’d been so angry with her for investing her money in her friend’s company after I’d categorically advised her against it—that was my business after all. But that was what she was like. She’d give away her last scrap of clothing to a homeless person. And I was yelling at her about it seconds before she died. It killed her.”

Marianne wiped the tears from her eyes, but they kept on coming. “And you know what the police did? They took away my license for a year.” She puffed out some air. “That’s it. That’s how they punish you for killing someone in the motherland.”

Emily was eerily quiet beside her.

“God, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have laid this on you. It’s not fair and it’s not your burden to bear.” Marianne wanted to get up and walk away, but she was afraid her legs wouldn’t carry her.

“This happened five years ago?” One of Emily’s fingers approached her, but Marianne pulled back. She had to. Saying it out loud—after all this time—had convinced her once again that she wasn’t worthy to be touched. Especially not by a girl like Emily.

“Yes,” came her curt reply.

“And all this time you haven’t allowed yourself to be happy for one moment?”

“Of course not.” She sniffed loudly, losing all sense of decorum. “Ingrid’s dead.”

“But it was an accident.” Emily’s voice sounded thin and insecure.

“An accident I caused.”

“But still an accident,” Emily whispered, while her hand made another approach. Marianne felt the heat shoot through her and briefly allowed it to warm her up inside.

“I sold everything and moved here.” Suddenly, she felt like she needed Emily’s touch and she grasped her fingers. “We’d come here on our first big holiday together and we were so happy here. It was the first time I really felt it, that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. So, that’s what I did. I came back here to mourn her and to make sure I never forget her—nor what I did.”

“Jesus.”
 

“Yeah.”

They sat in silence for a while. Marianne didn’t expect Emily to say anything because what could she possibly say.

“It must seem as if I’m wallowing in self-pity here on my island, some sort of fake exile in paradise, but I needed to do this. I needed to come here. If that makes sense at all.”

“I won’t claim to understand the extent of your pain, and what happened was terrible.” Emily scooted closer and Marianne admired her confidence. “But don’t you think you’ve suffered enough?”

What was enough?
Could it ever be enough?

“I don’t know. This is my life now. It has its moments, its ups and downs, but not too many. And that’s the only way I can live.”

Emily brought Marianne’s hand to her lips and pressed a tender kiss on it, causing Marianne to retract it instantly.

“It’s not the only way. It can’t possibly be.” Emily was persistent. But what did she know? She was twenty-four years old. Younger even than when Marianne had met the woman she’d spent more than ten years with. She’d just left her fiancé and perhaps that had taken some courage but really, what other choice did she have?

“I hope you understand the reason why I can’t—I mean, why this can’t go any further. In fact, it has already gone too far.” Marianne pushed herself up from the boat. She had enough decency to not leave Emily by herself in the dark. “I’ll walk you back.”

“Wait.” Emily’s feet made splashing sounds onto the wet sand.

Marianne turned around to face her. She could barely make out Emily’s features in the darkness of the night. It was easier that way. “You don’t want to be with me.” She tried to stress her point.

“Says who?” Emily’s reply came quickly, her voice much harsher than Marianne had expected. “You?” She took a step closer. Marianne could feel her breath float over her cheeks. “And how would you know?” She paused for effect. “And what if I do? What if I really, really want to?”

Marianne had to take a second to let all the questions register. “It’s not only up to you.”

“Oh, I know that.” Was that the blooming barrister coming out in young Emily? “But when you kissed me this afternoon, you didn’t leave a doubt in my mind.”

“It was a moment of weakness. I—”

“Don’t you get tired of this, Marianne? All this defence? All this endlessly feeling sorry for yourself? This blatant refusal to live? You’re forty years old, for god’s sake. Your life’s not over yet.”

Marianne started to get annoyed. She hadn’t come here to get a talking-to, let alone by someone who’d barely lived at all. “And spending three months on your own in a different continent makes you an expert, does it?”

“No.” Emily shook her head. “But it’s an easy excuse to hold against me. So is my age. But I saw what I saw in your eyes, Marianne. I saw the desire to live, to feel again. Just… give yourself a chance.”

“But that’s just it. Ingrid didn’t get a second chance, and nor should I.”

EMILY

Emily was completely out of her depth, but she felt as though she needed to push. She was fairly certain Marianne didn’t take a lot of people on a walk to talk about Ingrid and she needed to make the most of the moment. But years of loneliness and being convinced of her own guilt had obviously made Marianne very stubborn.

“Why did you bring me here?”

“What?” Despite the darkness and the remnants of tears on Marianne’s face, despite her reluctance and the fact she obviously clung to any refusal to move on, Emily could still see it in Marianne’s eyes. The fire that had blazed in them before she’d leaned in to kiss her. The desire to break free.

“When was the last time you told someone about this?”

“I haven’t told…” Marianne hesitated. Emily heard her breathing get back to a more normal rhythm. “A long time.”

“Then why did you tell me?”
 

“Because I clearly owed you an explanation after last night and this afternoon.”

“No, you didn’t. Not really.” Emily wanted to step even closer, wanted to wrap her arms around Marianne and hold her for a long time. “You don’t owe me anything. I’m just a guest in the Lodge where you’ve decided to hide from life.”

“You’re not just a guest… and you know it.”

Relief rushed through Emily. It was true that she was young and her bravest act up until now had been to run away. She’d fled the scene of her crime as well. While she could hardly compare her own anguish to the unbearable pain Marianne must have been in since Ingrid’s death, she had a lot of sympathy for the way in which Marianne had decided to cope. But if there was one thing she’d come to accept on this journey, it was that everyone deserves to be happy in their own way and on their own terms.

She inched closer, the heat blazing off Marianne’s frustrated body instantly palpable. “Come here, please.” She opened her arms and waited for Marianne to accept the invitation. “Please.”

There were only two ways Marianne could go. Forward or backwards. If she turned around and went back to the lodge, Emily knew it would be over. If she met her halfway, if she let Emily embrace her, there was a chance.

It took another few long seconds before Marianne finally moved. Tears ran down her cheeks again and her fists were clenched into tight balls. But she made the leap. She walked into Emily’s open arms and allowed herself to be hugged.

Emily curled her arms around Marianne’s waist and pulled her close. “Who says you don’t deserve to live?” she whispered in Marianne’s ear. “Who says you don’t deserve it?”

Marianne’s response came in long, deep sobs. She relaxed her shoulders and Emily felt her fingers dig deep into the flesh of her back while she cried, raining tears all over her body.

Emily let Marianne cry for a few minutes before gently coaxing her in the direction of the Lodge. She pried the keys from Marianne’s jeans shorts, opened the back door—relieved not to find the other guests back yet—and helped a limp Marianne up the stairs to her room.

The scene was a far cry from how she had expected the night to go. Then again, she hadn’t really known what to expect, although tales of guilt and death had not exactly been on her mind. A love gone wrong maybe. Or some femme fatale who had broken her heart. But certainly not this.
 

She looked at the broken woman sitting on the bed in front of her and kneeled down. A tenderness she didn’t know she had in her swooped over Emily. She’d only just met Marianne, but she most definitely cared for her in ways she was only just discovering.

What a pair, she thought, as she shifted the sheets to the side and lowered Marianne onto the mattress.
 

“Stay,” Marianne whispered. “Please, stay with me tonight.”

Emily shot her a smile, one that even warmed her own heart. “Of course.”

She slipped out of her shorts, but kept the rest on, walked to the other side of the bed and climbed in with Marianne. After switching off the lights she slung her arms over Marianne and held her through the night.

Emily barely slept, and she didn’t know if Marianne drifted off or not, but they didn’t speak. They just lay there, quietly, finding strength in one another’s silent company.

Emily knew it was more important than anything else.

MARIANNE

Marianne woke up with her arms around another woman. She blinked against the lingering darkness and made out Emily’s blonde mane of hair. She checked the alarm clock on the nightstand and waited for the first light of dawn to filter through the window. The curtains had been left open and soon the room would be bathed in bright light.

Because, this morning, she felt as if she had no real reason not to, she held onto Emily a little while longer. Her head hurt from crying, her nose bunched up and her eyes swollen. Before ticking off her mental to do list—another guest was arriving today, resulting in a full house—she allowed herself a moment to process last night.