Matala Read Online Free PDF Page A

no, no. Justine doubted anyone had ever said it to her.
    There and then it was not her place to fill the girl’s needs, to satisfy her unacknowledged desires. Rather it was the other way around: She was there to help see to theirs. It was Will who had to be looked after, and this girl was simply another means.
    Still, a different thought flickered through Justine’s mind, of the darker possibilities this woman might present. The possibility of salvation for them all. It was too beguiling to imagine. And what it would require, what it would cost, was too frightening. It was altogether too much to contemplate. And anyway, she told herself, the possibilities of its actually playing out, even if she decided to try to turn it that way, were next to nil. So put it away, she told herself. There was no chance.
    Justine went to the bar and ordered another round, which, as it happened, the girl had offered to pay for. Nice, that. Beers for Will and Didier, wine for herself and the girl. She made sure to push all the change back at Gianfranco, who gave a wink as he set down the tray and said, “Grazie, Madre.”
    She put her hand over one of the wineglasses and held it there for several moments, until the sudden fizzing and bubbling stopped.
    The girl had mentioned the early train to Florence she had to be on with her group. That suggested possibilities. And those brought Justine back again to the dark notions brewing in her. She could see it laid out, the way it might play if she steered it just so, how it could end up being more than just the folding in the girl’s wallet and a few pieces of plastic to fence. So much more. But that was a very different game, one she had forsworn when she found Will again.
    Back at the table, the girl touched her on the shoulder and leaned in so close that she could feel her breathing.
    â€œI’ve got to get up early.”
    â€œNot to worry,” Justine whispered.
    â€œOne more,” said Will. He leaned across and said something into her ear. The girl giggled and maybe even blushed a little. He was turning into a real pro, there was no doubt. But Justine couldn’t help the jealous bite that came with watching it, the feeling that Will was enjoying this in ways that weren’t strictly part of the game.
    She handed out the beers and set one of the wineglasses in front of the girl, who said, “Oh, gosh.”
    â€œOne for the road, sweet,” Justine said. “Come on then, tip it up.”
    She sipped again, and Justine could see that she was on the edge anyway, that point where, if she were to let it go, she’d just keep drinking until she was stupid. But Justine also saw that the girl knew that. She had gotten good at getting very close without slipping over. Well, this would be something new for her then.
    She took another sip. She knew where she was. That was why her first reaction, upon standing to go to the bathroom, was more surprise than anything. She looked as if someone had just hit her across the back of the knees with a cricket bat. They let go, and she caught herself on the table. The crowd around them let go a loud whoop in honor of someone else who couldn’t handle the plonk, didn’t know how to control herself. But it wasn’t that, she seemed to want to tell them. It wasn’t that, Justine almost wanted to say to her, to assuage her.
    The girl sat for perhaps a full minute, watching. She took another sip. I’m okay, her face said. Okay. She stood again. And then, as if that invisible someone had moved the target higher, the bat came down across the back of her head this time. Justine could see the room swimming and swirling in her eyes. For a moment she panicked and seemed to struggle to draw breath. She opened her mouth and looked at Justine, who thought that in her own eyes the girl could perhaps see what it was. Justine saw, for just an instant, a realization, a dawning. The girl felt frightened, but that moment