Page 83 of The Sounds of Her

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Page 83 of The Sounds of Her

I forget all about fucking Daryl and focus on our surroundings. It really does remind me of California, and a sense of melancholy sweeps through me. I miss living there. I don’t hate New York, but the wide-open spaces and warmer climate of LA suit me.

Brooke thinks I need space and as I take in the beauty of this place, I realise she’s right. It’s so quiet out here, only the distant sound of machinery, insects in the brush, and birds in the trees. It’s like we’ve stepped off the edge of the world I know so well.

After a while Brooke veers us away from the vineyards and walks up a slope where there is a small group of trees, casting a little shade. It’s getting hotter, the closer it gets to midday. She shakes off her jacket and sets it down on the grass, sitting on it.

I drop next to her and stretch out my legs, leaning back on my elbows.

It is gorgeous out here. I’d thought seeing the beautiful beaches and ocean in the Seychelles would be the only time I got away from the manic energy of our tour. I do appreciate this.

We’ve spent most our time here in silence, but it isn’t uncomfortable. I’m seeing a different side to Brooke, a surprising one.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she asks, sweeping some stray strands of hair from her face.

“Yeah,” I say, but I’m not looking at the view.

She tilts her head, and a soft smile graces her lips. When she looks back over the land stretched out before her, she sighs. “God, do I miss the city.”

“The city?” I laugh.

“Yeah. I don’t mind nature in small doses. I’d go stir crazy if someone made me come out to a place like this for more than a single afternoon.”

I burst out laughing. “Why did you want to come out here if it’s not your thing? We could have gone somewhere in the city.”

“Because it’s a good reminder every once in a while there is more to the world.”

“That’s deep, Hannon.”

“I have my moments.”

“Daryl aside,” I pull a face when she looks at me, laying down in the grass putting my hands behind my head. “You’re right, it’s nice out here.”

Brooke lays down beside me, staring up at the blue sky. The sun is behind us, so it’s easy to look up. Still, I offer her my sunglasses. She shakes her head and closes her eyes instead. I keep my head turned so I can watch her as she soaks up the sun.

We lay in silence for so long, I wonder if she fell asleep. I don’t know how much sleep she got last night because she was up before me. She must be tired.

I stare at the sky, watching white fluffy clouds moving past us. I almost forget everything else going on. The whirlwind of the tour, the chaos of my life and the darkness that threatened not so long ago.

“When I went on vacation with my parents,” Brooke speaks.

It startles me a little, but she doesn’t notice.

“It was always to places like this. Fancier, and a lot more expensive, but unsuitable for a kid. I was left alone a lot, well, with the staff, while my parents were invited to parties or met with other rich and pretentious assholes who liked to flaunt their money.”

She talks without opening her eyes. I stay silent so she doesn’t stop talking.

“The first time they left me for a couple of days while they spent the weekend in Monaco, I was four.”

“Four?” Okay, so I can’t ignore that. Her parents left her alone when she was four?

She turns her head and looks at me. “I was with a nanny. I liked her, she tried to make it fun for me, so it wasn’t all bad. As I got older and nannies couldn’t entertain me, I’d stay by myself. The first couple of times I ran away, no one noticed I was gone.”

“Fuck.” It’s the only thing I can say.

“The third time, when I came back, I got yelled at for not doing as I was told and wasn’t allowed to leave the mansion we were staying in for the rest of the vacation.”

“Jesus, Brooke.”

“It’s fine. I learnt how to deal with it.”




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