I am carrying a part of that night’s tragedy – she is carrying the whole.
‘Okay,’ I say, breaking the silence. ‘I’ll come.’
She is momentarily confused and looks at me with raised eyebrows, waiting for me to continue.
‘I’ll come with you,’ I add. ‘I’ll go back to Santa Maria de Alto. We’ll do it together, Em.’
As soon as I make this promise, my head swirls. I will go back. Back to that place, to that moment. The moment we met.
Chapter 25
When I mention the potential trip to Mexico, Harry is not overly impressed.
I’m not sure how I expected him to react, to be honest – that night, that place, was traumatic for all of us, and I’m not even sure how confident I am about returning there myself. Will it be, like Em thinks, cathartic? Liberating? Or will it simply open up old wounds, dig beneath layers of emotional rubble and leave us even more exposed?
I don’t have the answers, but I know I want to ask the questions – I have an instinct, a feeling deep in my gut, that this is right. That I need to do this, even if it’s not easy to do.
Harry, it seems, does not. I don’t know if I am disappointed or relieved, and allow that I might be both – this is not a simple situation.
‘I’m not sure, Elena,’ he says as he gets ready to head into work, staring at his reflection in the mirror as he gets his hair just so. Some things, of course, never change.
‘About what?’ I ask, from my cosy spot beneath the duvet. I love working from home. ‘The programme, or me going to Santa Maria, or you going there? Or about your hair?’
‘My hair,’ he says, patting it lovingly, ‘is as perfect as ever. Look, let me think about it, okay? My first reaction is “no bloody way”, but that might not be my second reaction. I don’t know if it’s the logistics putting me off, or if I just feel … worried. Worried about seeing it again. Worried about how I’ll react.’
‘Worried there’ll be another earthquake?’
He hoists himself onto the bed next to me, and kisses me quickly.
‘That’s more your thing, Elena,’ he says, smiling. He is, of course, right. He knows I like to keep a close eye on the devilish ways of the tectonic plates.
‘Leave it with me,’ he adds. ‘I’ve got a busy day, and I might be working late again, but let me give it some thought. It’s not a no – it’s a possibly. Will it just be us, or is Em planning on assembling all the Avengers?’
‘If she can. Some have already committed. Alex has said yes.’
He nods, and smiles at me, and I wonder if that is part of his reluctance.
Harry never seemed possessive about me when it came to Alex. Just before I set off to London that first time to have lunch with him, I was nervous – perhaps I was looking for an excuse to cancel, to be a coward. But when I asked again, Harry just replied, ‘Go. I don’t mind. I’m not the jealous type, and I trust you. Anyway, it’d be like being jealous of the air you need to breathe – I know it’s good for you to see him, I know you need that, and you spend way too much time thinking about what I need already.’
Now, though, I wonder if it was ever that simple.
‘Is that the problem?’ I ask. ‘Alex?’
‘No. Should it be?’
‘Not at all … you know I haven’t seen him for years.’
‘Yes, and I’ve always wondered why, Elena. Why you stopped meeting up with him. Why it all ended. You’ve never told me – is that one of those things I’ll have to watch a documentary to find out?’
I feel both offended and threatened, and scrunch the duvet closer around me. I don’t want to talk about this. I don’t want to revisit this, or even allow myself to remember. It hurts too much.
‘Harry, those trips … those times I met him … I never cheated on you. I’m your wife. I’d never do anything like that.’
He reaches out and strokes my face, smiling but somehow looking sad.
‘I know,’ he says. ‘You’re too decent a person to do anything like that. Too good. It’s hard to compete with sometimes. I’ve always felt like I don’t really deserve you …’ He sees my expression, squeezes my hand. ‘Don’t look so worried. It’ll all be fine. I’m just being odd – I’ve been thinking a lot, and as you know that doesn’t come naturally … plus I didn’t sleep well. I blame Olivia. I think she sneaks in at night and whispers “you’re a wanker, Harry” in her Hagrid voice …’
That is, in fact, entirely possible. She’s been misquoting Hagrid at him for years now.