Losing Juliet: A gripping psychological thriller with twists you won’t see coming. June Taylor
pointing to it. ‘If you don’t find work in La Grande Motte you won’t find it anywhere.’
‘Lots of people on holidays,’ one of the others said.
The next time they passed a sign for La Grande Motte, Chrissy felt a wave of excitement. She desperately wanted to share it with Juliet but couldn’t because she was still attached to her Italian lover’s lips. Leaning out of the window the wind caught her hair; the moment spoiled, however, when someone pinched her backside. The boy whose lap she was sitting on put his hands in the air to protest his innocence. One of the others winked at her.
She tapped Juliet on the shoulder. ‘Hey, what do you think about this place, Ju?’
It was a purpose-built resort with giant pyramids rising out of an incredibly flat landscape, creating an almost futuristic skyline. Chrissy couldn’t decide whether it was attractive or ugly, not that it mattered. Palm trees lined the side of the road, with holidaymakers strolling casually either side along wide pavements, eating ice creams, carrying bags of shopping or heading to the beach with all their paraphernalia. A blue dolphin structure came into view as they got close to the marina, where brightly coloured flags wafted lazily in the breeze.
‘La Grande Motte,’ said the driver, bringing them to an unnecessary screeching halt.
‘Ju. For god’s sake, Ju, put him down, will you?’
She finally came up for air, her hair in chaos and her lips looking like they couldn’t take much more. ‘What? Oh, this looks okay,’ she said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Her neck was still being caressed as she peered out of the window. ‘Yeah. Looks great. Drop us in Centre Ville.’
‘We’re already in Centre Ville,’ said Chrissy.
‘Anywhere here then.’
They spilled onto the pavement like their spaceship had just crash-landed. Whilst their bags were being squeezed out onto the kerb the driver honked his horn, then an array of hands began waving out of the windows as they pulled away. Chrissy lost count of the number of times she said ‘grazie’, and anyone would think Juliet was sending her sweetheart off to war with all her kisses and cries of ‘Ti amo’.
Chrissy ran her fingers across her cheekbones to wipe away the sweat beneath her sunglasses. She could already feel the sun burning through her skin as she waited for Juliet. The enormous pyramid on Allée de la Grande Pyramide towered above the others. Further down the street she could see the Tourist Information symbol and a sign for the campsite. Meanwhile Juliet was still waving enthusiastically.
‘They’ve gone, Ju,’ she said, hoisting her rucksack onto her back. ‘You can stop now.’
‘I’m in love.’
‘In under four hours? A record, even for you.’ Chrissy saw that she was clutching a folded piece of paper to her chest. ‘You got his number? I don’t believe you sometimes.’ She laughed. But then a thought struck her. ‘Which one was it you were snogging?’
‘Luca,’ said Juliet, dreamily.
‘Didn’t they say it’s Luca who is getting married?’
‘Final fling.’ She grinned at Chrissy, enjoying her disapproval. ‘Never kissed an English girl before.’
‘Oh well, that makes it all right then.’
‘I didn’t force him. We can’t all be saints like you, Chrissy.’
‘You’re not going to look him up, are you?’
‘Well, I might. One day.’
With that, she tucked the piece of paper into her bra and slung her rucksack onto her back. ‘Who knows? On ne sait jamais.’ She gave Chrissy a kiss on the cheek and Chrissy wiped it off again like a sulky child. ‘Hey, guess what?’ said Juliet, linking arms.
‘What?’ said Chrissy, pretending to be mad at her.
‘We fucking made it!’
Their cheering caught the attention of a group of old men playing pétanque. The metal boules clattered together in a cloud of dust and the men seemed to think that the cheers were for them, waving as the girls walked past.
‘Seems like a friendly enough place,’ said Juliet, waving back.
‘If you tap off with any one of those, Ju, I’m going to disown you.’
‘I think they’re more your type. Steady and sensible.’
‘Excuse me. Dan’s not steady and sensible, he’s a musician. Actually, maybe he is. You’re just jealous in any case.’
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