Thirty Days: Part One

by Belle Brooks

  “Very much so. It was delicious.”

  “Lovely.”

  “Sorry, do you have a business card that I could grab?”

  “Yes. I’ll bring one back with me if you’d like.”

  “That would be fantastic, thank you. This is my first time in Sydney. I haven’t dined anywhere in the city before.”

  “Thank you for choosing Alsando’s.”

  “My friend outside said it was a nice place. He was right.”

  “It truly is. Excuse me, I won’t be a moment.” She strides away and soon disappears.

  Life has no limits or boundaries…there are no right or wrong decisions to be made, only differing paths to take on one’s journey.

  As each word of the quote that’s written on a blue and white canvas by the bar floods my mind, I wonder if it’s true. Are we just taking differing paths? If you’re cursed, does that mean one’s life is limited with boundaries?

  I begin to think deeply about the statement before I’m interrupted by a frazzled Grady, who grabs my clutch from the table and hands it to me with force. Mumbling through a clenched jaw words I cannot understand, his arms flail.

  “Grady, slow down, what’s the problem?”

  “We have to go now,” he orders.

  “Why?” I frown, standing to my feet.

  “Because, Abigail, Mr. Klein is not happy with us.”

  “It was Marcus on the phone, wasn’t it?”

  He nods.

  “And you told him we were out, didn’t you?”

  He nods again.

  “Why would you do that?”

  “Because he’s my boss, Abigail. It’s my job to tell him. I’m going to pay this bill, wait here.”

  “You are a shitty secret keeper, Grady, shitty,” I yell at his back as he storms off. “Geez, Louise,” I mumble, swinging the door open before stepping firmly onto the footpath. Brisk air rushes over my bare arms and the bottom of the dress I’m wearing rustles around my knees. I’m so mad I can hear my pulse thudding in my head. “Who the hell does Marcus think he is? Better still, who the hell is he?”

  Finding myself camouflaged with the many people using the footpath as a means to another destination, I shuffle into the pack. I’ve no idea where I’m going, but the more I walk the calmer I become. Opening the clutch in my hand, I locate my phone. “If anybody is going to know who Marcus Klein is, it’s my mother.” The phone only rings twice before it’s answered.

  “Hello, petal. How are you liking Sydney?” Her relaxed tone comes through.

  “Sydney…well, it’s big, quite fancy, and a little on the cooler side at night from my observations so far.”

  She laughs. “I see. How is the job going?”

  “Different.”

  “Different good or different bad?”

  “I’m not sure yet. Hey, Mum?”

  “Yes, petal.”

  “Do you know a Marcus Klein?” The line goes silent. I then hear Mum breathing quickly. “Mum?” There’s no answer. “Mum, are you okay?”

  “Abi, yes, I’m fine. I just thought I heard someone knocking at the front door. I got a bit of a fright. Nobody’s there of course. I guess my ears are playing tricks on me. Sorry, what did you say?” I can hear the tension in her voice as she spurts out these short sentences.

  “Seriously, are you okay?”

  “Yes, petal. Now what did you say?”

  “I said, do you know a Marcus Klein, or ever heard me talk about him?”

  “No, darling, never. Why are you asking?”

  “No reason really, just the name came up recently, and I thought I’d heard it before, like I’ve met him or someone has said it.”

  “Well, not that I know of, anyway. Maybe he’s a serial killer from one of the investigation shows we watch…you know how those names stick in one’s mind.”

  “You are dramatic,” I sing in song.

  “Must be where you get it from.”

  “Probably.” I giggle. “Well, I guess I don’t know him then.”

  “Names, faces, people, sometimes it feels like we know them, but we don’t. If I were you, I’d never think of that name again.”

  “That’s an odd thing to say, Mum.” So odd it has me wondering if she is hiding something.

  “Abigail, I’m just saying that it’s probably a name you’ve heard somewhere, but as far as I know we’ve never known a Marcus Klein.”

  “Good to know.” She’s lying.

  “I’m sure it is.”

  “Anyway, what have you been doing?” I change the topic.

  “Relaxing, my dear girl, relaxing. Long overdue.” The tension in her voice decreases. “Where are you at the moment? Some fancy smancy restaurant?”

  “I was actually, with a guy named Grady who works for the firm. I just stepped outside to call you, and I’m now enjoying a wee stroll. It’s so busy here, Mum, even this close to nine.”

  “That’s Sydney for you. I’m not sure why we’ve never gone together.”

  “Yeah, me neither, you come here a lot. Hey, Mum, I’m going to go now. I think I’ve walked a little too far. I’m not exactly sure where I am.” I laugh, trying to break the sudden sense of doom that rips through the pit of my stomach. “I’ll ring you tomorrow, okay?”

  “You all right, petal?”

  “Yeah, fine. Just have to retrace my steps back the other way. You know how I am with directions.”

  “Do you want me to stay on the phone with you?”

  “Mum, don’t be silly. I’m in the city. There are people everywhere.”

  “Well, okay then, take care and call me before you go to bed.”

  “Yeah, okay. Bye, Mum.” As the phone slides back into the clutch, the fine hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention. Looking left, then right, nothing around me seems familiar. Did I veer off somewhere?

  Turning back the way I think I’ve come doesn’t shed any light on where to go either. I can no longer see the restaurant or the footpath I took. The swarm of people that surrounded me only moments ago has all but vanished. “Holy shit,” I cry out, taking a street to my left that has no street sign attached to the pole. “Great, I’m lost at night in a fricking city. Just great.” My legs begin to feel weak as I force myself to walk at a quicker pace. The sound of footsteps behind me makes my heart pound erratically. The feeling of danger lurks in my mind and the urge to run becomes strong. The bright lights that not long ago lit up these streets like a Christmas tree are now replaced with a gloomy darkness.

  My breath catches in my throat when my body thuds hard against bricks and my mouth is covered with something that reeks of petrol.

  “A pretty lady like you shouldn’t be walking these streets alone at night.”

  Instant terror fills me to my core. Panic rears its ugly head as I whimper. Squeezing my eyes shut, I pray for this man to take whatever he wants and leave.

  “How silly are you fucking women, really.” His voice is raw in its deliverance. “Give me your bag!” he commands.

  My hands tremble with such force that the clutch falls from my fingertips, dropping to the ground.

  “You silly bitch,” he grunts. “Why would you go and do that?”

  Frozen, I stand pressed against a wall with zero defence tactics in mind.

  “I’m going to take my hand from your mouth now and if you scream, I’m going to put a bullet in you, you hear me?”

  My head manages to nod slightly.

  “Good. Now when I do, bend down and pick up that fucking bag and hand it over.”

  I nod again. The pressure is removed from my mouth immediately and even though I try to suck air into my lungs, I don’t. Breathing right now seems almost impossible.

  “Get the fucking bag!” he yells.

  Slowly my legs bend as my body slides down the wall until my bottom rests on my heels. Frantically, I search the rough cement with my hand as I keep my eyes sealed shut, still too scared to open them. The sound of feet running, followed by a loud thump again
st the ground has my eyes springing open. A clenched fist is raised high into the air, then soars downwards. It happens again and again and again before I commence screaming bloody murder and run in the opposite direction.

  “Shit!” A primal roar of the word echoes down what I think is a laneway. It’s not my voice, but that of another.

  I run harder as the sound of my heels clopping against the bitumen rings loudly. I try to scream, but my lungs have no air and nothing comes out.

  “Stop. Abigail,” a gentler tone says, pulling me into an embrace.

  I instantly bang my fists and twist my body, trying to escape.

  “Abigail, you’re safe, I’ve got you. I’ll keep you safe this time. I promise. Stop fighting me,” he pleads, trying to contain my flailing limbs.

  “Marcus.” My voice is barely audible as the smell of petrol is replaced with that of mint.

  “Yes, baby, it’s me. I’m here.” Tears trickle down my cheeks as my body trembles uncontrollably. “Ssssh. It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

  Marcus scoops me up into his arms and my ear lies against his chest. The sound of his heart beating erratically tells me he is just as frightened as I am. “Let’s get you to the hospital.” His tone strained.

  “No hospital. I hate hospitals. I’m fine. He didn’t hit or touch me anywhere. Take me home, Marcus, please?” As the words leave my lips, I burst into a flood of tears.

  In a Blink of an Eye

  After placing me into the passenger seat of a car I’ve never seen before, Marcus’ hands run over my skin, checking for injuries.

  “Are you hurt?” His voice trembles, alerting me to his concern.

  “No.”

  “Abigail, why did you take off like that?”

  “I didn’t.”

  “You fucking left the restaurant. Why would you do that?”

  “I didn’t mean to. I was on the phone…people were everywhere. Then they were gone.” I sob.

  “Ssssh. It’s okay, it’s okay,” he repeats, fighting back tears of his own.

  “How did you know where I was, Marcus?” I ask with accusation.

  “I don’t know…I just did. I was speeding to the restaurant and something told me to stop.”

  “What told you to stop?”

  “My heart.”

  The car fills with silence until the sound of Marcus’ breathing deepens. Taking his hands from my thighs, he begins hitting his palms into his forehead. “How stupid. Why did I leave you? I have to keep you safe this time,” he berates himself, his frustration and pain obvious.

  “Stop,” I cry out. “Stop it.”

  Pulling my limp body against his chest, he whimpers, “I’m so sorry, Abigail.”

  “Why are you sorry, Marcus?”

  “Because I let you down again.” His arms release their strangle hold before he grabs onto my shoulders, pressing me back. Our eyes meet. “I’m going to call the police, okay?”

  “Please don’t,” I ask.

  “I have to, Abigail. I just beat a man unconscious.”

  Tears trickle down my cheeks as I see the anger that filled his eyes leave, replaced now with sadness.

  “Then we are going to get you to hospital to make sure you’re okay. Once you’ve been checked out, I’m going to ring your mother and get you on the first private plane out of here.”

  “What?”

  “You’re going home. I should have never approached you at the cemetery. I hoped if you saw me there like that, you would remember me, but you didn’t. I’m sorry, Abigail. I should have left you alone.” His grip loosens until my shoulders are left naked from the loss of his touch. The driver’s door opens, and Marcus climbs out before closing me in.

  He let me down again. How?

  I watch him pace, his grey suit soiled and crumpled, his body slumped when Grady pulls up. Grady looks almost frightened as he exits the car and the reason why becomes immediately apparent. Marcus stomps straight to him, shouting and swinging his arms in every direction. Grady doesn’t bat an eyelash and stands like a soldier at boot camp, taking a barrage of anger, anger that I caused.

  “Stop it, now!” I scold, pulling my tired body from the passenger side. “Marcus, stop. It’s not his fault.”

  “Abigail, get back in the car now.” He scowls, his face as red as a tomato. His eyes burn with fire.

  “No.”

  “God, just do as you’re told.”

  “No!” I yell. “It’s not Grady’s fault. If you want to scream and carry on, then come here and give me all you have.”

  His jaw clenches in synchronisation with his fists. “Abigail, get in the car.”

  “Not until you calm down.” I take three large steps towards him.

  “You were not to take her anywhere. What part of that was hard for you to understand, mate?”

  “I did the wrong thing. I’m sorry,” Grady pleads.

  “Sorry…you’re fucking sorry. Do you know where I found her?”

  Grady shakes his head.

  “In that alley”—he points—“with some creep attacking her. Sorry. You think sorry is going to undo that.”

  “No, sir.”

  “You’re fired, Grady, effective immediately. Fuck off.”

  “Yes, sir,” he says quietly, handing over the keys to the car.

  “You’re not going anywhere,” I huff, pulling at Marcus’ arm. “Calm down.” I cup my hand to his cheek. “Look at me.”

  He does.

  “So much anger, so much hostility. You’re pissed, I get that. You’re shocked and that’s understandable. But what you’re doing is wrong. Please calm down.” My finger begins stroking along his cheekbone as he glares at me with murderous eyes. “Marcus, I’m here and I’m safe because of you. You, Marcus, you never let me down. In fact, you saved me,” I say with conviction. “Grady did nothing wrong. If anything he did everything right. If he hadn’t brought me, I would have taken a taxi. You need to apologise for this behaviour.”

  He shakes his head before pulling me into an embrace. “I…what if—”

  “I’m okay. Can we please go home?”

  “Okay,” he answers, sounding defeated as he throws the keys from his hand to Grady, who amazingly doesn’t miss a beat and catches them in flight. “Stay here. The arsehole is unconscious, down there.” His finger points in the direction of his location. “Call the police and wait for them to arrive. When you call ask for Ben Wallis and Chris Rodgers to come to the scene. Tell them it’s for me. They’ll sort this shit out.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I’m taking Abigail back to the manor. When they are done here tell them we will be there to give statements.”

  “Sir, you can’t leave a scene of crime. You know that better than anyone.”

  “Just watch me. I have to get her out of here.”

  “Marcus, no,” he says forcefully. “As your friend I’m telling you don’t. Just get in your car and wait…I’ll take care of it.”

  Marcus shakes his head.

  “You’re not thinking clearly. I’ll handle it, okay, mate?”

  Sitting in a white sedan, Marcus doesn’t say a word. Each breath he takes is laboured and his fingers tap against the steering wheel. Staring at his cheek, I will him to turn and face me, but he doesn’t.

  “Marcus?”

  “Hmmm,” he says, his eyes still avoiding mine.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Hmmm.”

  “Do you want to talk?”

  His head shakes, just as the sound of sirens comes into ear range.

  “We just tell the truth and everything will be okay, right?”

  “The truth is always the only way, Abigail. A lesson I wish I’d known once upon a time when it really mattered,” he spits, opening the door and climbing out. He must have removed his jacket because it’s flung through the opening onto his seat. “Abigail, this time just stay in the car and let me handle things.”

  “I will.” The door closes, and he’s gone. Lookin
g over my shoulder and out the window I don’t see much, except a crowd of people who have gathered. I’m actually not sure when these people congregated here. It could have been as early as my alley screams, or as late as right now. It seems as though everything that’s happened around us has been nothing but a catastrophe.

  I sit watching blue and red lights flicker against my arm that hugs the headrest of the seat. The flickering lights come from the emergency vehicles. Watching them is the only thing keeping me from falling apart, from experiencing the panic that threatens to bubble out. Their constant timed appearance calms me. I’ve no idea how long I’ve sat staring or how much time has passed, but I’m startled when a bang comes against the window and then the door opens.

  “Abigail?” a man in a blue jumpsuit and the kindest grass green eyes asks.

  “Yes.”

  “Hi, I’m Seth. I’m with the ambulance service. How are you feeling?”

  “I’m okay.”

  “A bit shocked, no doubt, after such an experience.”

  “Yeah, I guess a bit. Seth, I just really want to go home. Can I go home now?”

  “I’m not sure, Abigail, but what I think would be good to do is for you to come sit in the back of my ambulance so I can check you over and make sure you’re okay.”

  “Can you just do it here?”

  “Well, I could try, but it really would be easier in the bus. I’ll close the door, so it will be private, and my colleague, Belinda, will keep you company while we do an assessment. She’s really nice.”

  “Umm. Where’s Marcus? Mr. Klein?”

  “I’m not sure,” he says, taking my hand in his blue gloved hand and helping me to my feet. “Just go slowly, no rush.”

  “Honestly, I’m fine. Not even a scratch. I just had a huge fright.”

  “Even so, you need to be checked.”

  I immediately spy Marcus talking with two police officers.

  “Marcus,” I call.

  His eyes connect with mine. “Abigail.” He jogs over. “Everything’s okay. The paramedics are going to make sure you’re in good health and then the police are going to come by the manor to get your statement shortly. They’ve got the man in custody now.” His hand rubs my arm and his expression offers the reassurance I needed.