It seems mad. But the way she’s said it, it also makes sense. ‘And it’s as easy as that?’ I ask.

‘Yes. It’ll be amazing. You’ll see. You worry too much, Jesse.’

59

Antonio

21 January 2022, 12:00

The Caribbean

I barely slept the last few nights and don’t know what to do with myself now.

After Lola had told me what she’d done, she went back to the crew area. She says I can’t come with her, that it’s safer if she stays alone. I can go down every few days with food. It’s the arrangement she’d had with Rick and apparently it worked out well. There’s no point in taking more risks than necessary, it’s vital that no one knows she is there. And after all, it’s not like she can get up to anything untoward down there, all on her own. At least I know where she is, and that she’s safe.

But I am still uneasy. She has killed someone. What if she is found out? What if she goes to prison? There’s no way she would cope, and I will have failed her, again.

I don’t know what to do for the best.

I still don’t understand why she killed Rick, but I have made a decision about that, at least. I’m going to make her tell me her reasons.

I love Lola with all my heart, but I never would have thought her capable of killing someone. I need to know why she did it.

I’m so confused. But she needs my help and I will do anything, anything, to keep her secret.

Meantime, I have to try to get on as normal. Doing my cleaning. Pretending I’m still grieving for Lola when I know she’s alive and well and not even that far away from me. Thinking about her all day, every day. Worrying about whether she will get away with what she’s doing. Stealing bits of food for her where I can. Sneaking into the mammoth fridges to fully stock up every three days when I know I’m going to be going down to see her. I live for those days.

‘I need to know why you killed Rick,’ I say, the next time I take her food down. We are sitting at the table eating rotisserie chicken at Lola’s suggestion as it’s easy to steal. ‘It’s keeping me awake at night, wondering, Lola. Please tell me.’

She sighs. ‘OK. But you have to promise not to judge me. You haven’t been through what I’ve been through, so you might not see it quite the way I do.’

‘I won’t judge,’ I say, though I can’t promise her that because, how can I know? It’s hard to imagine a justifiable reason for killing someone, whatever they’ve done.