THE NEXT MORNING, we met again. Alicia seemed different that day somehowโmore reserved, more guarded. I think itโs because she was preparing herself to talk about the day of Gabrielโs death.
She sat opposite me and, unusually for her, looked straight at me and maintained eye contact throughout. She started speaking without being prompted; slowly, thoughtfully, choosing each phrase with care, as if cautiously applying brushstrokes to a canvas.
โI was alone that afternoon. I knew I had to paint, but it was so hot, I didnโt think I could face it. But I decided to try. So I took the little fan Iโd bought down to the studio in the garden, and thenโฆโ
โAnd then?โ
โMy phone rang. It was Gabriel. He was calling to say heโd be back late from the shoot.โ
โDid he normally do that? Call to say heโd be late?โ
Alicia gave me an odd look, as if it struck her as a strange question. She shook her head. โNo. Why?โ
โI wondered if he might be calling for another reason. To see how you were feeling? Judging from your diary, it sounds like he was concerned about your mental state.โ
โOh.โ Alicia pondered this, taken aback. She slowly nodded. โI see. Yes, yes, possiblyโฆโ
โIโm sorryโI interrupted you. Go on. What happened after the phone call?โ
Alicia hesitated. โI saw him.โ โHim?โ
โThe man. I mean, I saw his reflection. Reflected in the window. He was insideโinside the studio. Standing right behind me.โ
Alicia shut her eyes and sat quite still. There was a long pause. I spoke gently. โCan you describe him? What did he look like?โ
She opened her eyes and stared at me for a moment. โHe was tall.โฆ Strong. I couldnโt see his faceโhe had put on a mask, a black mask. But I could see his eyesโthey were dark holes. No light in them at all.โ
โWhat did you do when you saw him?โ
โNothing. I was so scared. I kept looking at him. He had a knife in his hand. I asked what he wanted. He didnโt speak. And I said I had money in the kitchen, in my bag. And he shook his head and said, โI donโt want money.โ And he laughed. A horrible laugh, like breaking glass. He held the knife up to my neck. The sharp end of the blade was against my throat, against my skin.โฆ He told me to go with him into the house.โ
Alicia shut her eyes as she remembered it. โHe led me out of the studio, onto the lawn. We walked towards the house. I could see the gate to the street, just a few meters awayโI was so close to it.โฆ And something in me took over. It wasโit was my only chance to escape. So I kicked him hard and broke away from him. And I ran. I ran for the gate.โ Her eyes opened and she smiled at the memory. โFor a few seconds, I was free.โ
Her smile faded.
โThenโhe jumped on me. On my back. We fell to the ground.โฆ His hand was over my mouth, and I felt the cold blade against my throat. He said heโd kill me if I moved. We lay there for a few seconds, and I could feel his breath on my face. It stank. Then he pulled me upโand dragged me into the house.โ
โAnd then? What happened?โ
โHe locked the door. And I was trapped.โ
Aliciaโs breathing was heavy and her cheeks were flushed. I was concerned she was becoming distressed, and I was wary of pushing her too hard.
โDo you need a break?โ
She shook her head. โLetโs keep going. Iโve waited long enough to say this. I want to get it over with.โ
โAre you sure? It might be a good idea to take a moment.โ She hesitated. โCan I have a cigarette?โ
โA cigarette? I didnโt know you smoked.โ
โI donโt. IโI used to. Can you give me one?โ โHow do you know I smoke?โ
โI can smell it on you.โ
โOh.โ I smiled, feeling a little embarrassed. โOkay.โ I stood up. โLetโs go outside.โ
