Love Me, Love Me Not: An addictive psychological suspense with a twist you won’t see coming. Katherine Debona
who’d found me wrapped around an empty bottle of homemade gin after the engagement had been announced in The Times. Curled up next to my own vomit with a gash along one hip where I’d tried to climb the stairs and stumbled over my grief. He was the one who’d washed my face and tucked me into bed, brought me painkillers and coffee the next morning.
‘Well, I could hardly not show up, could I?’
‘It’s like some kind of sick joke, the way they treat you.’
He was the one who listened as I poured my soul into his ears, navigating his way around my wretched heart. Never once did he tell anyone else what I told him. Never once did he question my twisted allegiances, my need to always forgive and forget, to let bygones be bygones and all that crap.
‘I’m leaving.’
‘What, now?’
‘Tonight. I’ve taken the job in Hong Kong.’
‘But you can’t, Jane. Please, you said you wouldn’t.’
‘If I stay here, I’ll kill her.’
My mother was heading in our direction, eyes fixed on mine as she navigated her way across the sweeping lawn in heels she wasn’t accustomed to wearing. Each faulty step revealed to me her agitation.
‘You don’t mean that.’
‘Don’t I? I’m not a good person, Robin, and I’m terrified of what I’ll do if I don’t go.’
She was pointing in the direction of the marquee. Where all the other guests had congregated, awaiting the arrival of the bride and groom. She was mouthing something about where the hell had I been, thinking I was doing her a disservice by hiding away instead of spouting some shit to anyone who would listen about how glorious this day was. Except they were all far safer with me lurking in the bushes, staying out of reach, away from all that was tempting me to do wrong.
‘At least take some time to think about it.’
‘It’s all I ever think about. Don’t you see? I can’t live, I can’t breathe because of them. Everything I ever do or think or say is because of them and it’s consuming me. It’s breaking me apart, day by day, so that soon there’ll be nothing left. I’m supposed to have a life too. Where’s my happily ever after? It sure as hell isn’t here.’
She was getting closer, jaw clenched and eyes alive with rage because I wasn’t doing as I was told, and I saw there was no other choice. What will be will be and all that crap.
‘What about me?’
‘Robin, I love you, but I can’t do this anymore. Please. You have to let me go.’
I dropped the flowers to the ground and snatched from him one of the golden flutes, pouring its bubbly contents down my throat as I strode past my mother and into the marquee where all heads turned at my arrival. Seconds later a trumpet sounded and in the happy couple came, accompanied by cheers, whistles and rapturous applause. So beautiful. So touching. So fucking blah.
But still I looked. Still I watched as she glided through it all, like Jesus parting the waves. An ephemeral being so beloved by all. So utterly unaware of the damage she had done.
The crowd stilled as the bride and groom took their places at the top table, perched high above, where they could look upon their minions. Then murmurs of conversation floated between the tables as attention was pulled back to the free drinks.
‘Before the food arrives, I just wanted to say a few words.’ Elle remained standing, her voice laced with emotion I didn’t want to listen to. ‘I know it’s unconventional, but I need to say it now or else I’ll lose my nerve.’
It wasn’t part of the plan. Elle had never said anything to me about making a speech and I wondered what it was she didn’t want me to know in advance?
‘As some of you may know, my favourite song is “Ironic” by Alanis Morissette. Of course, words aren’t exactly my strong point, so I didn’t really understand what she was going on about until someone pointed out to me that it wasn’t sweet and romantic after all.’ A few polite laughs as she looked across at me.
‘But there’s one part of the song that has always meant so much to me, especially now. Especially today. “Life has a funny way of helping you out when you think everything’s gone wrong and everything blows up in your face.”’
She was still looking at me. They all thought she was talking about Patrick, were even ooh-ing and aah-ing in mock appreciation. But I saw her looking over at me with tears that threatened to fall and I allowed myself a moment to enjoy her attention once more. To remember what it was like when all she seemed to care about was me, only me and no one else.
‘I wouldn’t be standing here today if it weren’t for you, Jane.’
All eyes on me.
‘I’ll never forget that day at school when you ran through the showers naked, not caring what anyone thought. Teaching me not to be afraid to be yourself because that’s when love means the most.’
The last of her words were lost among a sea of mirth, of lewd comments and knowing looks from the women who had revelled in my humiliation that day. Who’d stared at me when I didn’t cover my breasts. Who called me a lesbian, pointed out the hair between my legs as if I were the unnatural one for not waxing it all away.
I lifted my glass to my lips, drank long and full, my own eyes never leaving hers over the top of its polished rim.
‘Because sometimes it’s the people you never expect anything of who end up defying all your expectations.’
She thought the memory was hers, that somehow it could be used to define her relationship with Patrick. That my torment, my utter humiliation, belonged to her. That she could embarrass me all over again because it was her right to lay claim to absolutely everything about me, past, present and future.
‘My world is a better place because of you.’ At this she turned to Patrick, shone her traitorous light onto his upturned face. Leant down to bestow upon him a lover’s kiss as the crowd called out in glee.
The stem of my glass split in two and I was left holding a jagged stick, like a fencer’s foil that jittered in anticipation.
Told you so.
I saw it all laid out in front of me. No one would question why I rose from my chair and made my way over to my best friend in all the world. No one would stop to think why I was bending forward to whisper something in her ear. No one would believe it possible that I could slit open her throat, covering the wedding feast in crimson waves. No one would understand what had happened until it was too late.
‘Jane.’ My brother’s voice slipped inside my fantasy, broke it apart before I could carry out my desire.
‘I have to go,’ I replied, releasing my weapon and pushing back my chair. He made no effort to stop me. He didn’t ask me to stay.
Edelweiss: Deep love and devotion
Hong Kong, one year ago
I wasn’t going to come. Tried to ignore first the email then the message on my phone announcing his arrival in Hong Kong. Wondering whether I would be free to have dinner with him. He’d heard wonderful things about the Tin Lung Heen restaurant and knew it overlooked the harbour.
His voice. Winding through from thousands of miles away, as clear as if he were standing right beside me, the effect on my resolve the same. And so I replied. Of course I would meet him. It would be so lovely to catch up over dim sum and extortionately priced wine. Why not? We could even share opinions on the state of the economy and chuck in a few memories along the way.
Four years and counting.