by JJ Marsh
“What? When?” I demanded, trying to meet any pair of eyes.
“Gael, my mistake,” said Clark. “I locked your bedroom door as I left last night because you were fast asleep. I meant to push the key under the door but I got distracted. Sorry, I’m an idiot.” He put his sling back on.
Something was very wrong. Clark’s face was white and bloodless, his lips the blue-grey colour of a vein. The air held a charge, as if all the things unsaid hung over us like a wet veil.
Lovisa reached out and touched my arm. “Could you give me a hand changing this bandage, Gael? Maybe I should have applied butterfly stitches, the cut was rather deep. Let’s go downstairs to our bathroom and then we should make some coffee. We need to warm up and talk about what happened last night.”
She guided me downstairs and took me straight into our bathroom. I crouched in front of her as she sat on the toilet seat. She didn’t utter a murmur while I unwound the bloody bandage, cleaned the wound across her palm and applied antiseptic cream and a new dressing.
“What did you do, Lovisa?”
Our eyes met and she gave me a weak smile. “Nothing. We’ll try again later. Thank you for this. Now unless I get some caffeine in my system in the next five minutes, I’m liable to fall asleep in the bath.”
We went down to the living room, where Mika and Simone were cleaning.
“Oh, you are a pair of angels!” Lovisa exclaimed.
“Not really. Gael had already done most of it. Cleared the table and put everything in the dishwasher. She’s the angel,” Simone smiled.
“No problem. The smell of yesterday’s food was pretty nauseating first thing this morning.”
“Well, thank you anyway. We shouldn’t have left that to you. Who wants what for coffee? I need a triple espresso.”
“Latte for me,” Simone trilled, unusually brittle even for her. “Just finishing up here. You know how I hate leaving the place in a mess.” She took the washing along to the little utility room beside the sauna. I really couldn’t see the point. She might as well leave it with the rest of our dirty bed linen. But I didn’t argue. With Simone there’s very little point.
“Mika? Latte OK for you too?” Lovisa asked, her voice tentative.
“Sure. Why don’t you two close the kitchen door? I’m going to run the vacuum cleaner through here. Our banquet made a real mess.”
I closed the door and turned to face Lovisa, folding my arms. “Right, what is going on? Everyone is behaving very weirdly. Why were you up so early? Where have you been? Where the hell is Dhan? Don’t treat me like a child, Lovisa. I’m a bloody journalist and all my instincts for a story tell me something here doesn’t fit. What happened?”
She busied herself with a pan of milk and filled the reservoir of the coffee machine with fresh water. “Yes, things are very weird. The problem is, I don’t think anyone knows exactly what happened. Let’s wait till we are all here and piece together events by sharing our experiences, OK? Why don’t you slice bread and get some cheese and ham out of the fridge. I expect everyone is hungry. It’s such a shame about the weather. I had planned a long hike for us all along the next mountain. So frustrating when you can see no further than three metres ahead of your face.”
I recognised Lovisa-style dissembling when I heard it. So I shut up, sliced the bread, arranged our usual breakfast assortment in the middle of the table – cheese, ham, jam, plus peanut butter for Clark and Marmite for me – and waited for the others to join us.
The door opened and Simone came in, with a bright smile. Too bright. “There, living room restored to normal. Mmm, this looks good. Is there any orange juice?”
I poured her a glass and one for myself. Mika joined us and sat silently at the table, leaning on his forearms. Lovisa handed him a coffee and he took it. Muscles in his jaw twitched and pulsed, but he kept his eyes on the table, apparently fascinated by a pot of raspberry jam. By the time Lovisa had served all of us, Clark came into the room, his eyes hollow.
“Jeez. And I thought I had a high pain threshold. I took another two just now and borrowed four more for the journey home. I’ll replace them, Lovisa, I promise.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I can get these at cost price. You take as many as you need. Maybe we should eat some breakfast now and talk about last night.” Her eyes flicked to Mika but he shook his head. “Clark, you said you couldn’t sleep?”
“Right.” Clark slathered peanut butter and raspberry jam over a slice of bread with his free hand. “Gael gave me some pills yesterday morning, so when the alcohol wasn’t cutting it at around four in the morning, I knocked on her door and asked for more, correct?”
“Yes, and I told you they were Lovisa’s and you could find them in the bathroom. Then you gave me some Bailey’s to help me sleep.” A thought occurred to me. “Where did you get it from? Do you always carry miniature bottles of alcohol to comfort damsels in distress?”
No one cracked a smile.
“I dunno. I find the most random things in my suitcase. Thought I’d offer it to you as a trade for the painkillers. I tucked you up in bed and remembered to lock your door. The plan was to push the key underneath so you could get out when you woke up. But while I was locking the door, I heard noises from downstairs.”
Mika jerked as if he’d been hit with a cattle prod. “Yes! Noises. Clark came to wake me although I wasn’t asleep. Neither of us wanted to go downstairs alone, so we went together to investigate. The front door was wide open and there was no one on the sofa. His coat, his sack, everything had gone. We went outside to look around but in that weather, we couldn’t see a thing. So we came inside to put on winter clothes and find a torch.”
I studied Mika’s expression. The man looked wrecked, haunted. I reached across the table to clasp his hand and he flinched.
“Sorry, I’m a bit jumpy. Low blood sugar. I need to eat something. Simone, will you pass me some cheese?”
Simone did so; Mika put a slice on a piece of bread and then sat there staring at it.
“I couldn’t sleep either,” said Simone. “I put on my bedside lamp and tried to write down my feelings in my journal. Mika and Clark saw the light, knocked on my door and told me they were going to look for Dhan. I got up to join them and Lovisa heard us whispering.”
This was the most ridiculous badly rehearsed script I’d ever heard.
“Eat, Mika,” exhorted Lovisa. “We all need to eat. Yes, four of us were awake and worried that Dhan had walked off into the snow. We got dressed in outdoor gear and went looking for him. We walked down the lane to where he said he parked his van and found nothing. We came back along the ski tracks just in case he went that way. He has gone. Just gone. It’s been snowing all night so there are no tracks, no footprints, no way of knowing where he went.”
I puffed air from the corner of my mouth. “You should have woken me; I would have come with you. OK, so here’s what I think. Dhan didn’t feel he got the reception he expected and left in the middle of the night. We can drive down to the village. He probably parked up there to get some food. He can’t be too far away. Find van, find Dhan. Where else is he likely to go?”
Clark stirred his coffee, Simone drank her juice, and Lovisa buttered a piece of bread. Mika sat still as a lump of granite.
“What?” I demanded. “What is wrong with you all?”
Lovisa rubbed her temples. “What’s wrong with us all is probably the same thing. Emotionally overwrought, little to no sleep and all of us trying to process the shock of last night. I don’t know about any of you, but in one evening my whole belief system has changed.”
Mika picked up his bread and cheese and took a huge bite. We waited till he had swallowed and was ready to speak. “Gael is right. We should take the hire car down the lane to see if we can find Dhan’s van. Clark and I will do that, right after breakfast. We need to find that van.”
“We need to find that man,” I said, unscrewing the jar of Marmite. “This feels like some kind of bizarre dream.”
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Everyone nodded, staring at the table. We ate in silence, the atmosphere buzzing with unspoken thoughts.
Eventually, I remembered I had a question. “Why did you take the sledge?”
Simone looked at me, her eyes wide. “Sorry? What do you mean?”
I had the strangest sense that everyone was holding their breath. “I saw you coming back. I was in my room, getting ready to go out for a walk and you all emerged out of the snow along the ski trail. Four of you in your winter coats, Mika pulling a sledge. If you went out looking for Dhan, what reason would you have to take the sledge?”
“Oh, that was Lovisa’s idea,” said Simone, speaking in her fast, breathy style. “She pointed out that if Dhan had fallen in the snow or hurt himself, we’d need something to help us carry him. You know what, I’m still hungry. Anyone else fancy a boiled egg?”
“Good idea,” said Lovisa. “Yes, please.”
“Not for me, thanks,” said Clark, getting to his feet. “Mika, shall we go look for Dhan’s vehicle? Then maybe you could take me into the town so I can catch a train. Sorry, guys, but as I said last night, I’m going cut this trip short, get home and seek medical attention.”
“Sure. I understand.” Mika stood up and finished his coffee.
To my amazement, neither Simone nor Lovisa protested.
“Clark!” I said. “You can’t leave us now. Surely you want to speak to Dhan as much as the rest of us. I get the fact your arm hurts, but we need to work this out together. Please don’t go.”
He gave me a fond smile. “Sorry, you guys, but I’m outta here. Listen, what say I take the Eurostar and come visit you in Brussels when I’m better? Never been to Brussels before.”
“You can come to Brussels whenever you like, but I really can’t understand why you’d leave us now. We have so much to talk about, so much to ask Dhan. I want some answers. Don’t you?”
Clark wagged his head from side to side, not a yes, not a no. The gesture reminded me of Dhan, which whipped up a strange storm of emotion I couldn’t control. I gave in.
“All right, if you have to go, I’ll come along for the ride to see you off.”
“No!” Mika and Clark spoke as one. Mika’s eyes bored into Lovisa’s and he looked as if he were about to cry.
“Why not?” I demanded.
Lovisa leaned towards me. “Gael, I’d prefer it if you stayed here. Last night, talking things through with you and Simone cleared my head. But this morning, I feel back to square one. Let Mika and Clark see if they can find Dhan’s camper van while the three of us stay here and have a frank conversation. I don’t know about you, but I have a cauldron of conflicting emotions I could use some help in processing.”
The water Simone had put on for the eggs was boiling madly, splashing onto the hob. The noise caught my attention and I saw she was just standing there, an egg in each hand, staring at me.
“What is the matter with you people this morning?” I asked.
Clark came round the table and held his right arm out for a hug. I stood to embrace him.
“We are all freaked. Each of us has gotta deal with this in our own way. See you in Brussels, yeah? Love you, sweetcheeks.”
I breathed in, uneasy and discomfited by the fact everyone seemed to be treating me with kid gloves. Clark said his goodbyes to each of us and we followed him out to the living room, where I was surprised to see his case already packed and standing by the front door. The three of us watched from the porch as they drove away, Clark’s right hand waving out of the passenger window. His departure seemed cruel and sudden, and I was aware tears were seeping from my eyes. We should have stayed together. Our stability depended on all five of us. Simone linked her arm through the crook of my elbow and ushered me indoors.
That was the moment I stopped asking questions.
Chapter 25: Clark, Two Years Later
I never made it to Brussels. Gael and I talked about it a couple of times, but we both knew it was never going to happen. I had no desire to see any of them again. What was the point? I keep up with the others via social media or news, but I avoided meeting up in person even before the whole virus lockdown. I don’t plan on attending another reunion. Ever. Not that anyone suggested we meet for New Year’s this time.
When we moved away, I changed my email address and didn’t tell them. Best of all, I don’t need to explain myself. As a new father, it’s natural I want to be with my wife and baby daughter. I’m a different person now, in a constant state of wonder at this tiny human being we made. I want to keep things perfect for her, and that means letting go of the world as it used to be.
This was our first Christmas outside Europe and it was weird, but in a good way. Although I had mixed feelings about leaving after a quarter of a century, my priorities have changed. Jen is pregnant again. We’re going to be a family of four and I want us to live somewhere that feels permanent. My life has always about moving forward. New places, new experiences, new friends, new countries, new cultures, new adventures and no looking back. Right now, I don’t want to live in the US and Jen was desperate to get away from the UK. So we compromised. Nova Scotia, Canada has become our new home.
Jen can teach, I can manage all my clients’ funds by working from home and arrange my lifestyle around being a stay-at-home dad. I’m looking forward, not back. Just the four of us, by the sea, breathing the ocean air and growing older together.
Europe gave me a lot, including many happy memories and unforgettable experiences. But it also left me with some horrible nightmares. I mean horrible, the kind where you wake up gasping and screaming. In these night terrors, I’m awake and asleep at the same time. I can see some kind of danger creeping up on me or my family. It might be a spider crawling towards my open mouth or a guy with an axe climbing through my daughter’s bedroom window. Awake Me is trying to scream but Asleep Me can’t open my mouth. Apparently, I make some terrible howling noises until Jen manages to rouse me. Those kind of dreams don’t happen often, but when they do, it’s impossible to go back to sleep. So I get up and go for a run. Anything rather than lie there in the small hours, thinking.
Jen suggested hypnotherapy. No thanks. As I said, better never to look back.
When the temperatures drop, my shoulder still hurts.
Chapter 26: Simone, Two Years Later
The first time we went to America, my friends teased me about my reactions to New York. Mika in particular was quite cutting. What they didn’t understand is that I was trained in the right way of doing things. People laugh at finishing school as if it is filled with silly debutantes. What they do not comprehend is that these places teach one how to behave in a stratum of society inaccessible to most. Gaining mastery over your baser urges is essential, whether that is eating, reading trashy magazines, refusing to exercise and yes, putting a slice of blue cheese on a breakfast pastry. They teach us restraint. Something people like Clark and Gael would never learn.
In my position, one learns to be an actor, playing the role of society wife, hostess, patron of the arts and charming guest. One learns the value of self-control and how to reinvent oneself. If we have learned anything since the health and economic catastrophes of last year, it is how to defer our gratification. There is not much to thank 2020 for, but I am grateful for that.
The university reunions have come to an abrupt halt, understandably. There is nothing left to say to each other. In fact, I have lost touch with many friends since my wedding, largely because I am so busy. For the passing of this year, my husband and I will be in New York, attending a ball thrown by one of his clients. From there, we will travel to Mexico for a winter break. Vincent prefers swimming, heat and sunshine to skiing, snow and chalets. Personally, I could not agree more. We are perfectly suited to one another.
Lovisa came home from Africa over Christmas. My schedule was so full; I had no time for a lunch or even a coffee. Instead, we invited her for dinner chez nous on St Stephen’s Day. Vincent knows reams of eligible men, so balancing t
he table was easy. The evening was a triumph, especially the menu created by our new chef. Unfortunately there was not much opportunity for conversation as I had fifteen other guests to attend to, and Lovisa left early. Two days later, she sent a warm thank you. It was only by email, not card, but the sentiments seemed heartfelt. Vincent and I agreed it was a marvellous thing she was doing and we should think about donating to her charity. Despite all that sun on fair skin, she looked well.
Chapter 27: Lovisa, Two Years Later
Today, I took another tough decision. Two of the children must be isolated from their peers because they have high temperatures and a cough. It was a heart-breaking moment, as Shemu and Asuwema don’t understand why they are locked away from their friends. They’re too young to remember the previous pandemic. Even the adults’ recollections have faded. But as the familiar symptoms presented themselves, a sliver of ice slid down my spine. Please no, not again.
I took them out of class myself and instructed the teacher to send the other children out for extra playtime and disinfect her room. The heat and sunshine will add a thin layer of protection, for the kids if not the teacher. The most likely explanation is that it’s a mild dose of flu and they’ll both recover fast. However, with 140 children under my care, I can’t take the risk of anything spreading.
There’s a level of guilt about even the best case scenario. I travelled to Europe for a week over Christmas. If it is common influenza, the culprit who transmitted the bug is almost certainly me. If it’s something worse ... I’d rather not think about it. I’m not sure I’m strong enough to go through all that again.
The irony of it! I didn’t want to go back to Switzerland, loathed the whole experience and saw hardly any of my friends. Geneva was cold, bleak and like any other European city at Christmas, obsessed with overindulgence. It made me absolutely nauseous and as always, I live in fear sudden restrictions will mean I cannot get back where I’m most needed.