“Here. Take this plastic bag but don’t disappear. I want to be able to keep an eye on you,” Laura warned Vanessa.
“All right, mom. See you later. Come on, girls,” she called, patting her thigh.
“OK, David, bring the loader round here. Shoo, girls. Get back. David! Watch out, you’re going to squash the dogs with the bucket.”
“I’d be so lucky,” he shouted back at her with a grin on his face.
“Bastard!” she yelled back.
David soon had the shoreline the way Laura wanted it.
Thank God for heavy duty machinery, he thought. Otherwise she’d have me doing all this digging with a shovel.
There was no stopping Laura when she got an idea into her head. Regardless of what it entailed, she would be determined to give it a go, there and then. Whether it was repairing a dripping tap or building a nest box, she would claim they could do it, that it would take forever to get someone in. While he knew this was probably true, he’d rather wait than mess around with something he didn’t really know how to do. She was always accusing him of seeing insurmountable obstacles where she saw a reasonable challenge. As it turned out, she was usually right. And she never failed to tell him so.
“That’s great. Now try and bring those two larger boulders down here. I want to use them as the base for the rocky outcrop. We can pile the smaller rocks on top.”
“Those two are way too heavy. I won’t be able to budge them. Just use the smaller ones.”
“It won’t look as natural. Besides, how do you know you can’t move them unless you try?”
There she goes again, thought David as he sighed inwardly. “Fine. What could possibly go wrong, anyway? Well, besides tipping the loader and getting crushed, that is. But hey, I don’t want to whine.”
“Oh, come on. Of course you can do it. Just take it nice and slow.”
David pressed the left pedal down with his heel while he urged the loader forwards. As the bucket slipped under the boulder, he pushed the right pedal with his heel to tilt the bucket backwards and drove down to the shoreline. Then he pressed the right button with his toe to tip the boulder out onto the ground.
“There we go. See, you’re quite a pro.”
“Boa, pai!” Vanessa cheered, clapping her hands. “Mom, can we eat now? I’m getting hungry.”
“Ok. I’ll get the backpack while your dad finishes up over here. Why don’t you come and help me?”
“Ok, I’ll get the blanket. Can we eat under this tree?”
“Sure. Let’s spread the blanket here.”
“What did you bring for our picnic, mommy?”
“Sandwiches, chicken pie, chips, fruit and biscuits. And your favourite fruit juice. Here, clean your hands on these wet wipes before you touch the food.”
The rustling sound of plastic bags did not go unnoticed. Nor did the tantalising smell of chicken pie. Six uninvited guests materialized as if by magic. A stern “Sht” and an upright index finger kept them at bay. Calm and assertive. Thank you Cesar Millan! Now if only she could get them to stop destroying the garden.
Just as Laura finished laying out the food, David shut down the skid-steer loader, lifted up the lock bar and jumped out. “OK, ladies, here I am. I’m starving. All this manual labour has made me work up an appetite.”
“What do you mean ´manual labour´? Pushing a couple of levers and buttons? Boy, you must be exhausted!” teased Laura.
“Hey, knowing exactly what each button and lever does requires a huge mental effort.”
“Shame. Here, have some nourishment to get your energy back.”
“This pie looks good. Who made it?”
“I did,” she replied indignantly. “Why is it that you and Vanessa always ask who cooked the food when you like it?” she demanded.
“Shall we tell her?” David asked Vanessa as they huddled together giggling.
“Very funny,” she retorted. “Talking about food, have you noticed the stone pines are laden with cones? I’m going to have to find loads of recipes to make the most of the pine nuts.”
“We’re lucky to have them for free. They are so expensive in the shops.”
“See, the joys of country living. Organic fruit and vegetables. And that reminds me, we have to get Senhor Pedro in again to give us a hand with the vegetable patch.”
“I thought you said he didn’t know what he was doing.”
“No, I said that like most people his age the thought of composting has never crossed his mind. Attracts vermin, he says. He just builds bonfires and burns everything. And I told him not to. Also, he doesn’t want to accept the fact that I don’t want him to use any pesticides.”
“Yes, these old rural folk are set in their ways. What do you want him to do, then?” asked David through a mouthful of homemade chicken pie.
“It’s time to sow onions, carrots, spinach and a number of other things. I also want to try watermelons. I used to love them when I was little.”
“Did you use to grow your own, mom?”
“No, we used to buy them at fruit and vegetable shops run by Madeirans. Little did I know then that I would be living in Portugal one day,” laughed Laura.
“Why did you come to Portugal, mom?”
“Well, when I graduated from university, I decided to travel around Europe for a while. I started off in France, and then I moved on to Spain and Portugal.”
“Where did you go next?” asked Vanessa, munching on a biscuit.
“Nowhere,” smirked her father, “because then she met me.”
“Is that true, mom?”
“Yes, it is,” she smiled.
“She fell madly in love with me,” continued David, “and didn’t want to be apart from me ever again. Also, she knew that no one else would have her.”
“Ha, ha. What you mean is that I took pity on you!”
“When can we go to South Africa on holiday again?”
“I don’t know, querida,” replied her father. “Money is tight at the moment. We’ll have to wait and see. But at least it seems that the weather is finally improving. We’ll have to check the weather forecast to see if it’s going to last.”
“Yes, this is more like it. I really feel that the weather affects my mood.”
“Is that why you’re always so grouchy lately?” David inquired.
“I’m grouchy? Well, maybe it’s because I’m tired of talking to brick walls and always having to sort things out myself,” she snapped.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he demanded. Then, not wanting to argue in front of Vanessa, he changed the subject. “Never mind. Just pass me the juice,” he said curtly.
Sensing the tension in the air, Vanessa jumped to her feet. “Can we go now? I want to watch TV.”
“Sim, querida. Let’s just pack this up. Don’t forget to bring your bag of pine cones,” her father answered, getting to his feet.
Chapter 7
Riding the quad bike slowly back to the house, Laura admitted to herself that perhaps she’d been a little brusque with David. She often was lately; she knew it but she couldn’t help herself. It was just that after months and months of either being ignored or being blasted for everything she said, the resentment had built up. And sometimes it overflowed.
Surprisingly, he’d actually been in a good mood all weekend, chatty and playful like in the old days. Well, she was going to try and keep it going. There was no point in sulking about their earlier tiff. Back at the garage, she dismounted and helped Vanessa remove her helmet while David parked the Bobcat back in the wide driveway.
“Why don’t we all go and feed this leftover bread to the fish?” she suggested.
“Good idea. Vamos, pai,” called Vanessa, taking her dad by the hand. They walked westwards across the courtyard and onto a flagstone path that wound its way among flowerbeds and shrubs. The fresh scent of mint and creeping thyme filled their nostrils as they trampled the herbs that Laura had purposely planted between the flagstones. Up ahead the path fo
rked left and right. A right turn would take them to the dog run and the left fork led to a secluded water garden.
Laura’s zen garden—a place to relax and unwind. A jasmine covered pergola sheltered a teak bench that overlooked the koi pond. A tall bamboo screen added a touch of privacy and tranquillity.
Vanessa knelt down by the pond and held out her hand causing a flurry of bright orange. Gaping mouths broke the water surface through the parrot feather and salvinia plants. “Olha, pai. Look how big they’re getting.”
“Sim, I’m not surprised,” her father answered. “The way you feed them.”
“But it’s such fun to watch them eat. I wish they’d let me touch them,” she said, plunging her hand into the water.
“No much chance of that,” David laughed. “Is the water still cold?”
“No, it’s lovely. Well, perhaps just a little. Mom, when can we start using the pool?”
“Oh, not till May at the very earliest. And even then only if we have a decent spring.”
“Come on. Let’s go and check the pool water.”
“OK,” her mother answered. “We can check if there are any frogs that need fishing out.”
They retraced their steps and made their way to the swimming pool. Even though the sunshine made the water sparkle, it certainly did not look inviting enough for a swim yet. Not till it had warmed up another ten degrees.
Vanessa, however, was not of this opinion. She rolled up her jeans and, kicking off her boots, jumped down onto the first step.
“Vanessa!” David shouted. “Are you mad? Get out of there before you get sick.”
“Oh, David, let her be. It’s just her feet. She’ll be fine.”
“You know how easily she gets bronchitis and she’s already got a runny nose as it is.”
“Yes, but we can’t wrap her in cotton wool,” Laura protested. “We’ve got to let her do what kids will do.”
“That’s all very well, but always having to take antibiotics for her chest infections can’t be good for her.”
“I agree, but what can we do? Getting fresh air and running around is also important. Anyway,” said Laura changing the subject, “look at the lawn. It’s looking nicer on this side of the house. Must be because it gets more sun in winter and less frost.”
“Yes, maybe. But the main reason is that the dogs don’t run around here as much as they do up front. Talking of which, here they come,” he frowned.
Damn. I hope they don’t pee on the grass, right here in front of him, Laura thought fervently. He always went nuts when he saw the telltale yellow spots on the lawn. Seeing the dogs, Vanessa abandoned her paddling in the pool and started chasing them round in circles.
“Careful, Vanessa! They’re going to knock you into the pool,” Laura called out as the mad dashing about picked up speed.
“No, they won’t. They never have,” she shouted back.
The Estrelas were engaging in their favourite pastime which bore witness to their innate ability to fight off wolves. Lola chased Bruna, grabbed her by the throat and flipped her onto her back. Her deep growling and snarling sounded like distant thunder, enough to make the hairs on the back of one’s neck stand on end. If one didn’t know how docile they really were, that is. Mia played the same game with Tara. But as the latter was small enough to fit under her belly, she obligingly lay down on the grass, offering her neck to the smaller dog who seemed thrilled to have got the better of the pack leader.
Vanessa loved this rough-housing and joined in the chase and flip game. The big dogs immediately adjusted their play, clearly aware that she was more fragile than they. And so it had been since she was born. Not once had they hurt her, not even by accident.
“They’re quite a sight, aren’t they? So powerful, yet so trustworthy with children.”
“Yes, it’s amazing,” replied Laura. “I always feel moved when I think about that time Vanessa was playing with that little boy from her school. I told you about it, didn’t I?”
“You mean the time they were playing with the beach ball bats?”
“Yes, he was pretending to hit her with his bat and she was shrieking her head off. Bruna immediately came running and stood between them. You should have heard her growling at the kid in warning. She certainly gave him a helluva scare even though she didn’t touch him.”
“Thank God she had the good sense not to attack him.”
“Yes, she’s a smart dog, all right. So protective even without having been trained. And to tell you the truth, David, with violent crime on the rise, I wouldn’t feel comfortable living here without them.”
“Oh, come on, Laura. Nobody’s going to bother us here in the middle of nowhere.”
“Jesus, David. Don’t you watch the news? Even old people are being beaten up in their rural homes for a few measly Euros.”
“That’s why we have a police force.”
“Yeah, right. Take our municipality, for instance. How many 4x4 vehicles do they have to patrol the rural areas? One? Two? And we’re talking about 400 km2.”
“That’s true enough,” David conceded. “And whenever they’re dispatched to a scene of a crime they always seem to say that there’s nothing they can do, that they don’t have the means.”
“It’s certainly not like CSI,” Laura snorted. “Remember when the Silvas reported that attempted home invasion? It took the National Republican Guard forty minutes to get there and then they didn’t even go in. The officer just told them to file a report the next morning.”
“I know. It’s crazy. Why the GNR isn’t equipped to lift fingerprints is beyond me. It’s not as though the Judicial Police are going to come running every time a crime is committed.”
“Actually, I wouldn’t be surprised if none of them came running,” Laura said wryly. “Everyone complains that the cops don’t do anything, but when they are forced to take action, there is media uproar about police brutality, excessive force...”
“I agree with you there. When a cop or a homemaker is killed, the media report it as just another unfortunate statistic.”
“Yeah, from the safety and comfort of their offices. But heaven forbid that a victim of crime should injure or kill an assailant. The concept of self-defence doesn’t seem to exist in this country. Another politically correct idea imported from England. Why is it that offenders seem to have more rights than victims?” Laura demanded.
“The lawmakers and the media have bent over backwards to be politically correct. The problem is they have bent over too far backwards—at the expense of the law abiding citizens,” said David dryly.
“Yeah, what can you do,” Laura sighed. “Come on, Vanessa. Let’s go inside. It’s getting cold.”
Chapter 8
“Come on, princess. Time for bed.”
“What! But I’m not even tired yet,” Vanessa protested.
“It’s already half past nine, way past your bedtime. Say goodnight to daddy.”
“Aw, mom.”
“No, no arguments. Here, give me a hug,” said David as he kissed her goodnight. “Sweet dreams.”
“Goodnight, pai. I love you.”
“I love you, too, querida.”
“David, you going to make some tea?”
“Earl Grey and biscuits?”
“Yep. As usual.”
“Will you tell me a story, mom?”
“No, not tonight. It’s late. But I will carry you to the bathroom because you’re my little baby girl.”
Laura crouched down and Vanessa leapt up into her arms, hugging her mother tightly as Laura settled her on her hip.
“Agh. Not so tight round my neck. You’re choking me, I can’t breathe. Boy, you must be getting big and fat. I can hardly carry you anymore,” she joked.
“No, I’m not,” Vanessa giggled. “Look,” she said as she stretched out a long, slim leg.
“No, of course you’re not. You’re my little gazelle, that’s what you are.”
Bathroom routine out of the way, Vanessa snug
gled up under her duvet while Laura lay on the oversized beanbag next to her bed, holding her hand as was their custom.
“Mommy, what do you think will happen if it doesn’t warm up before the swallows...”
“Shh,” Laura interrupted, “not now. It’s time to sleep. Go on, close your eyes,” her mother said as she stroked her long silky hair. It was a shade darker than Laura’s, but she had the same green eyes as her mother.
She looked tenderly at her daughter as she drifted off to sleep. Sometimes she simply felt overwhelmed with love for her when she saw her lying there, so small and defenceless. She desperately wanted her daughter to have a happy childhood. To grow up confident and carefree, secure in the knowledge that she was loved and that her parents would always stand by her, no matter what.
This fierce desire undoubtedly stemmed from her own stressful childhood. It was remarkable that she couldn’t recollect any happy family occasions, not one single birthday or Christmas that they had shared together happily. On the other hand, the long nights she’d lain awake in bed waiting for the dreaded arguments to start were still vivid in her mind. Being an only child, she’d had no one to turn to, no one to comfort her.
So it was at school that she’d felt happiest. There, besides being an “A” student, she’d had the unconditional support of her friends. Not many friends, but good friends.
All this baggage just made her even more concerned about her relationship with David. The last thing she wanted to do was to bring Vanessa up in a turbulent household. Her parents certainly hadn’t done her any favours by staying together...
“Oh, come on, Laura. Not another one. Two back-to back episodes of Criminal Minds is enough. I’m starting to get tired of the show.”
“Why? You’ve always liked it.”
“Yes, but this season it’s a bit too sadistic for my liking. And it’s rather predictable.”
“Yes, maybe. But my main gripe is that Shemar Moore doesn’t get to take off his shirt often enough.”
“Jeez, will you listen to yourself?” said David in mock disgust.
The Blame Page 4