Antonio Hill - The Summer of Dead Toys

“They ended up expelling him for a few days,” added Héctor. This had been the main reason for their visit: in places like this, crawling with pupils from good families, expulsions were rare. However, if he was hoping the teacher would clarify the matter, he immediately became aware that that wasn’t going to happen: suddenly regretting his previous indiscretion, the man chose to dig his heels in on that subject.

“That happened the following year, but I’m afraid it’s part of the student’s private file. And it’s confidential. If you want to know more, you’ll have to speak to the principal.”

Leire cleared her throat, expecting Inspector Salgado to insist, but he didn’t.

“Of course. Tell me, did Marc come to see you after coming back from Dublin?”

The question made Professor Esteve relax: he found himself back on safe ground and he answered quickly, as if he wished to make up for his lack of cooperation on the previous question.

“Yes. I found him much more grounded. We talked about his future: he told me he’d decided to repeat his exams to get higher marks and enrol in Media Studies. He was very excited.”

Héctor nodded.

“Thank you very much. You’ve been very helpful.” He rose from his chair, considering the interview finished, but, already on his feet, he added a question, as if it had just occurred to him that he was forgetting something. “And the girl? What’s her name?”

“Gina Martí,” Leire pointed out.

The teacher’s expression softened.

“Gina is charming. Very insecure, over-protected, but cleverer than she thinks. She has a great talent for writing. Inherited from her father, I suppose.”

“Her father?” He tried to remember if the file said anything.

“She’s Salvador Martí’s daughter. The writer.”

Héctor nodded, although in fact he hadn’t the least idea who Salvador Martí was, or what he wrote.

“Was she also a friend of Marc and Aleix?”

“I think she’d been a friend of Marc’s since they were kids, although she’s a year younger. She came to do Bacc here when he repeated First Bacc. And yes, Aleix included her in his circle as well, to please his new friend. Truth is, this girl was following Marc like a puppy for two years. This last year, with no Aleix or Marc, she’s been much more grounded: it was good for her to repeat Second Bacc as her final exam results show. She was so happy when we gave them to her. . Now she must be in pieces: she’s a very sensitive girl.”

Gina opened her eyes when the bell rang. Befuddled, lying on the sheets, she took a few seconds to react. Twenty past four. Hadn’t her mother said something about five o’clock? More rings, short and in quick succession. She remembered that the cleaner left at three and she was alone in the house, so she went barefoot down the stairs and almost ran toward the hall. She looked at herself in the foyer mirror before opening the door. God, she was horrible. Still looking at her reflection with an expression of intense disgust on her face, she opened the door.

“Beautiful, were you sleeping?”

“Aleix! What are you doing here?” She didn’t move, momentarily thrown by this unexpected visit.

“You didn’t think I was going to leave you here alone with the fuzz, did you?”

He was smiling and his brow gleamed with sweat. He took off his sunglasses and winked at her. “You going to let me in or what?”

Gina stood aside and he strode across the threshold. He was wearing a faded blue t-shirt and loose, checked Bermuda shorts. He was perfectly bronzed. Beside him, Gina’s pale skin seemed like a consumptive’s.

“You should get dressed, shouldn’t you?” Not waiting for a response, he strolled toward the kitchen. “Hey, I’m going to get a drink. I came on my bike and I’m parched. What time are they coming?”

She didn’t answer. Slowly, she went upstairs. Before he could follow her, she closed her bedroom door, though she knew that wouldn’t stop him. Sure enough, she was still deciding what to wear when he appeared at the door. He was still smiling and had a can of Coke in his hand.

“Are you in a bad mood?” He went toward her and started tickling her. He smelled faintly of sweat and she moved away.

“Leave me alone. .”

“Leave me alone,” he repeated, mocking. He gave her a kiss on the lips. “Do you really want me to leave you alone? Shall I go?”

“No.” The answer came out much faster than she’d expected. No, she didn’t want him to leave. “But wait outside while I get dressed.”

He raised both hands, like a robber caught with his fingers in the dough. He closed his eyes and kept smiling.

“I promise not to peek. . Although I can’t help remembering!”

“Do what you want,” she replied, turning to the clothes folded on the chair. She grabbed a pair of denim shorts and a black, low-cut t-shirt with very short sleeves. Rapidly she took off her pyjamas, but before she could dress herself he came up behind her.

“I’m still not looking, I swear.” He kissed her again, this time on the neck. As he did so, without meaning to, he brushed Gina’s skin with the still-cold can and she flinched. “OK, OK, I’ll leave you alone. I’ll be good! By the way, have you got rid of the teddies? About time. .”

Gina got dressed. He sat down in front of her computer and started typing. She watched him, annoyed: she hated him using her things without even asking, as if they belonged to him.

“Let’s go downstairs,” she said to him. “My mother will be here any minute.”

“One second, I’m just looking at Facebook.”

She went over and positioned herself at his shoulder. Then she saw the same message she’d received less than an hour before. “Alwaysiris wants to be friends on Facebook.” The blurred photo of a blonde little girl, squinting in the sunlight.

“You too?” she asked.

“Screw them,” he replied. Without hesitating, he hit the “Delete Request” button.

“I did the same a little while ago.” Suddenly, without knowing why, she realized tears were running down her cheeks. She tried to control herself but she couldn’t.

“Gina. .” He rose and hugged her. “Sweetheart, that’s enough. That’s enough.”

She leaned against his chest. Hard, smooth, a strong and unyielding washboard. She sobbed like a little girl, ashamed of herself.

“Enough, enough, enough. It’s all over.” He moved away a little and brushed away her tears with his fingertips. She tried to laugh.

“I’m stupid.”

“No. No.” He looked at her tenderly, with a kind of olderbrother affection. “But we have to forget about all this. It was Marc’s business, we have nothing to do with it.”

“I miss him so much.”

“Me too.” But she knew he was lying. The thought made her uneasy and she moved away from him. “By the way, give me the USB stick. Better that I have it.”

She didn’t ask why. She opened a drawer and gave it to him. Aleix delayed a second in putting it in his pocket and smiled at her.

“Come on, let’s go downstairs. See if they’ve arrived yet and finish with this once and for all. And remember, not a word. About anything.”

Gina saw it in his eyes. A flash of fear. A gentle threat. This was why he’d come: not because he wanted to keep her company, not because he was worried about her, but because he didn’t trust what a girl like Gina would say if the police pressured her. The memory of Marc’s face came to her, a shadow over it, and she heard his quivering voice, almost inaudible, “You’re a motherfucker, a real motherfucker,” while fireworks exploded in the sky on the other side of the window. She felt a hand forcefully grasping her arm. He was still looking at her intently.