was a plot rather than the imaginings of a sick mind, why would he tell me?
I munched on the apple and watched him watching me. It felt weird, like we were strangers rather than brother and sister.
"What happened to the doctor you were going to call?" I tossed the apple core into the tussock grass lining the veranda. The birds and the ants could feast on what remained.
"This town has only one doctor, and he doubles as a coroner when there's a murder. So, we're no longer his first priority." He hesitated, then said, "You better keep taking your tablets until we talk to him."
I raised an eyebrow. "They were for depression and I don't feel depressed."
He tapped his fingers on the table, a soft drumming that for some reason annoyed me. "Maybe you don't feel depressed, but you've lost your spark, Hanna. And you've already tried suicide once. So forgive me if I'm blunt here, but you'll fucking take your tablets even if I have to force them down your throat, because I do not want to lose anyone here."
The emotion in his voice, particularly when he said that last bit, had tears prickling my eyes. It was the truth -
the honest truth - in a sea of lies.
I took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. "Okay, I'll take the tablets. Where are they?"
"In the bathroom." He leaned back. "I think I'll go to the pub for a meal. You interested?"
I snorted softly. "Like this? Thanks, but no. I think I'll stay here and have a bath."
"Cool." He glanced at his watch. "I'll be back in a couple of hours."
I shrugged. "Don't hurry on my account. Enjoy yourself."
"Like that's - " He caught the words, and shrugged. "I'll bring back some beer, if you like."
I nodded, wondering what the hell he'd been about to say, and why he'd checked it. I finished my coffee as he disappeared into the darkness, then I stood and made my way into the bathroom.
There was a pill bottle sitting on the ledge underneath the mirror. I picked it up and read the label - these were definitely my tablets, and they were dated several weeks ago. I frowned and tipped one out into my hand. They were large and brown - more like something you'd feed a horse. I contemplated the tablet in my hand for several seconds, then clenched my fingers around it.
I couldn't take it. I just couldn't.
I dropped it into the shower and crushed it underneath my heel, then turned on the taps, stripping off the shirt before stepping inside.
I kept the water cool because of my sunburned skin, but it still felt like bliss. For several minutes I did nothing more than stand there, letting the water sluice off me, washing away the worst of the blood and dirt even as the chill began to seep into my body and ease the fires burning there.
After I'd washed hair and skin, I turned off the taps, grabbed a towel, and stepped out to dry myself. Then I swung around and headed for my bedroom. There was a suitcase at the foot of the bed. The clothes in it were a mix of old and new - some of them smelled of me, but most didn't.
I grabbed a pair of faded denims and a low-cut T-shirt but didn't worry about a bra - the strap would have rubbed the half-healed wound.
Once dressed, I glanced at the time. Evin had been gone for twenty minutes. That left me an hour and forty minutes to do my investigations.
I grabbed my wallet and the apartment keys then headed out. The night was still crisp and a little on the cool side. The sigh of the waves washing up the shore mingled with the distant sound of laughter and music. All the nearby villas were silent - maybe everyone had gone into town. From the little I'd seen of this place earlier, there probably wasn't much else to do.
Once clear of both the villa area and the nearby caravan park, I broke into a run, cupping my breasts with my hands to compensate for my lack of a bra. The rubber soles of my shoes made little sound on the dusty road, but the little puffs of dirt that rose with each step meant I'd be noticed if there was actually anyone about to notice. But even though there were one or two houses that had their lights and TVs on, no one