A dark cloud crosses my vision and I zone out. A selection of interconnected scenes slot into my head, as clear as a cinema reel – me swinging the bottle, the bottle connecting with Carrie’s face … screams, blood, my arms being pinned behind me. Sirens, police with guns. Court. My mother’s blank expression as she watches me from the dock. Prison…

Perhaps prison wouldn’t be so bad. Plenty of opportunities in there, for someone resourceful like me.

The sound of sirens jolts me back to life.

I’ve taken too long.

I turn around, scanning the exits, the bar, the other tables – but she’s gone. I put the bottle back into the ice bucket. I can hear the sounds of car doors slamming, shouts. Running feet. Through the trees, I see the sun glinting on the boating lake, and I wonder if I have time.

I can’t swim, remember? This could be the perfect, sweet, release. I stand up, smiling now. It’s all going to be over soon enough. It takes me a moment to realise that people are being ushered away from their tables. Their drinks and food abandoned. There’s a cacophony of chatter and fear. I catch a glimpse of a red rowing boat, an oar dipping into the cool water. Too late now.

‘Veronica Delauney?’

Two armed police stand in front of me, their expressions stern. I should get them to call Daddy. I wonder if I’ll get diplomatic immunity.

‘Veronica Delauney, you must come with us now.’

Give me a minute.

Surely another few moments won’t make a difference now. I’m not going anywhere. I close my eyes, drifting off again, and I remember those big skies in the desert, Carrie’s arms around me. Her lips on mine.

‘Violet…’ she’d whispered. ‘I think I love you.’

The policemen are talking on their radios. They flank me on both sides, and one lays a surprisingly gentle hand on my arm. I turn to him, and smile. She’d thought it, even just for a moment. I’ll take that.

‘It’s Violet,’ I whisper, as I let them lead me away. ‘My name is Violet.’

Epilogue