The Blame

by Park, Nichola

  “That’s great, Laura. And that just about brings us to the end of this assignment,” smiled Sandra.

  Laura nodded as she closed the new training module that they had been going through. Thank God, she thought. If I have to fake another smile today, my face will crack. I can’t wait to get home.

  Home. No, that wasn’t the solution either. There wasn’t much peace to be found there. She sighed inwardly and pasted a pleasant expression on her face.

  “Yes, I’m pleased with the results. I’ll have the paperwork finalized by Monday.”

  “Knock, knock.”

  “Hey, Hugo,” said Sandra, looking past Laura whose back was to the doorway.

  “Hello, ladies.”

  Laura spun round in her chair, feeling her face flush.

  “How come you’re in so early?” asked Sandra. “Didn’t you get back late last night?”

  “Yes, but I managed to sleep on the plane, so I’m good now.”

  You certainly look it, thought Laura, casting a quick look along the length of him as he casually leaned against the doorjamb. He was sporting a two-day shadow that was speckled with white on his chin, and a cornflower blue tie that vied with his eyes for attention.

  “How’d the trip go, Hugo?” she inquired politely although her immediate attention was more focussed on the glossy magazine picture before her. He could well be posing for a haute couture photoshoot—Hugo Boss, maybe. She smiled inwardly at the wicked associations her nimble brain conjured.

  “Better than we expected, actually. We closed the deal we wanted, and there are a number of others that might be of interest to us. I’ll be going back next month to check things out.”

  “That’s good news, indeed. You don’t want to take me along by any chance, do you? I could certainly do with a little holiday,” joked Sandra.

  “Who said anything about a holiday? It’s going to be hard work, you know. Trying to break into a new market always is.”

  “Yes, I know it is, but you obviously managed to squeeze in an hour or two of sunbathing! You look so tanned and healthy, especially compared to the rest of us.”

  “Sunbathing!” Hugo snorted. “What you mean is hours of trawling worksites in hot humid weather until your clothes cling to you no matter how many showers you take.”

  “Tut, tut. How I feel for you. Anyway, I have to dash out now. I have a dental appointment in twenty minutes. Laura, are we done for today?”

  “Yes, we are. I’ll see you on Monday.”

  Sandra shut down her computer and collected her jacket and shoulder bag from the coat rack. “OK, then,” she said, shrugging into her black bolero. “Gotta run, sorry.” A vivacious smile and she was gone, leaving a discrete floral waft of perfume in her wake. Something classy and expensive, thought Laura. Probably Guilty by Gucci, which was a rather apt description of the feelings Hugo’s appearance had brought on.

  “So,...” said Laura, with all the self-assurance of a teenager on her first ever date. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and shifted awkwardly in her chair.

  “Did you drive in today?” Hugo, on the other hand, spoke with the determination of a man on a mission.

  “Yes, I did. I’m parked on the last level.”

  “Well, leave your car there and meet me on minus one. You know where my parking space is? Just to the right of the cargo lift?”

  “Yes, but...”

  “We have about fifteen minutes before everyone starts going out for lunch. Go down now and I’ll meet you there. I’m just going to get my jacket from my office.”

  He looked inquiringly at her and she stared up at him for a long moment.

  Why the hell not, she thought. I’m done trying—nothing seems to work.

  She nodded.

  The direction lights flashed as Laura reached Hugo’s azurite black BMW. He trotted up to her and opened the passenger door. Glancing around quickly and seeing no one, he bent his head and placed a quick kiss on her lips. Then he strode round to his side of the car, got in, fired up the engine and drove out of the underground car park before anyone could see them.

  “So where are we going?” asked Laura as they joined the traffic in the dual carriageway that hugged the river.

  “I thought we could have a light lunch at my hotel. It’s just down the road.”

  “Your hotel? I don’t understand.”

  “I’m staying at the Tivoli until I find a place of my own. I left my wife,” replied Hugo as they stopped at a red light.

  “What do you mean you left your wife?” Laura echoed, as though flummoxed by a complex notion.

  “It was in the making, had been for a long time, in fact. And now this thing with us has just made it all clearer and brought things to a head.”

  “But Hugo, you can’t leave your wife on my account!” exclaimed Laura, feeling rather alarmed. “I’m married, too, and you can’t expect me to…”

  “Shh, it’s OK. I didn’t mean to pressure you. This would have happened sooner or later anyway.”

  “But Hugo, I don’t want to be a home-wrecker! I really don’t want the responsibility of ruining another woman’s life.” She turned in her seat and looked earnestly at him.

  “Fat chance of that,” snorted Hugo as the traffic light turned green. “Lidia will barely notice my absence. She has a busy life of her own and quite frankly, I think she sees me as an impediment more than anything else. Rest assured that this separation was all very civilized and amicable.”

  “Well, I’m certainly relieved to hear that. Hugo, I can’t make you any promises. I don’t know where this will lead us, but …”

  “Hey, forget it. Forget everything. It’s just here and now—just you and me.” He took his hand off the steering wheel and squeezed hers.

  “Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Hugo released her hand to change gears and Laura stared straight ahead, clasping her hands tightly in her lap. Her mouth felt like the Atacama Desert.

  This was it.

  As they waited for the lift in the lobby, the pretext of lunch abandoned, Laura felt everyone was looking at her. Do they know? she wondered. Can they tell that this is a mid-afternoon tryst? It was absurd, of course. She knew that, but she couldn't help feeling self-conscious. God, I hope I don't see anyone I know. How would I explain my presence here?

  Hugo, aware of her discomfit, smiled reassuringly and stroked her cheek. She tilted her head and rubbed the back of his hand with her shoulder.

  After what seemed like an excruciatingly long time, the lift door finally opened and they stood aside to let a group of Asian tourists get off. Armed with expensive-looking cameras and guide books, they chatted excitedly as they headed for the revolving door in the lobby, undoubtedly determined to squeeze in as much sightseeing and shopping as they possibly could.

  Laura and Hugo stepped onto the lift and, just as the door was about to shut, an elderly gentleman slid his hand in front of the light sensor, causing it to recoil and allowing him and his wife to board. They stepped back to accommodate the couple. All four exchanged polite smiles.

  The gentleman carried a small backpack with a Swedish flag pin-back button. She noticed they stood with their fingers entwined, loosely, casually—with the comfortable familiarity that comes from spending decades together.

  How had they managed to make it work for so long? They looked relaxed and contented, happy to be holidaying in a foreign land, knowing that the sanctuary of their home awaited them whenever they chose to return.

  Laura shifted uncomfortably. A nagging feeling tried to lodge itself at the back of her mind; it wormed its way slowly, insidiously, making her feel uneasy.

  The floor indicator pinged as they reached the fifth floor; Hugo led Laura out of the lift and down a carpeted corridor. He stopped outside room 507 and fished his key card out of his breast pocket. He fumbled about for a moment before he managed to open the door.

  “See, you're not the only one who's nervous,” he said, standing aside fo
r her to enter.

  She walked into the room. His personal items were strewn about, giving it a lived-in look that dispelled the impersonal ambience which pervades hotel rooms. She dropped her handbag into an armchair and turned round to face him, heart hammering now.

  He walked up to her and, taking her hands in his, stared searchingly at her. Then he took her in his arms and kissed her gently. He pulled back and gazed down at her, an intense look on his face as though he were unable to believe that this moment, which he had fantasized about for so long, was finally happening. Then he squeezed his eyes shut and crushed her in a tight embrace. Feeling her lean into him, he pulled back and led her to the bed.

  Chapter 20

  Laura awoke with a start. Oh my God, I must have dozed off, she thought. She was lying in the crook of Hugo’s arm. He, by the looks of things, had dropped off, too. She wondered what the time was and reached for her cell phone which was on the bedside table. Five o’clock! She would have to call Dona Maria and ask her to stay on a bit longer.

  She tapped the screen a couple of times.

  “Estou?”

  “Dona Maria, I’m terribly sorry but I’ve been held up at work. Do you think you could wait till I get there in about an hour’s time?”

  “Sim, claro. Don’t worry, I can wait.”

  “Thank you. Did Vanessa get home all right?”

  “Yes, she’s fine. She’s watching TV.”

  “OK, then. See you in a bit.”

  She felt Hugo’s hand on her arm. “Babe, what’s wrong?”

  “It’s late, Hugo. I have to get home.”

  “Come here a minute,” he murmured, pulling her down onto him. He held her hair back off her face and kissed her. “This is where you belong. I don’t want to let you go.”

  “You know that’s not possible, Hugo.” She kissed him lightly and extricated herself from his embrace. “I’m going to have a quick shower,” she called over her shoulder as she headed for the bathroom, conscious of her nakedness and wishing she had a bathrobe to slip into.

  Laura pulled on a complimentary shower cap; she wouldn’t have time to blow dry her hair and she couldn’t exactly arrive home with damp hair. As she stood under the blast of hot water, she realized that she felt oddly deflated. I have to get out of here, she thought. I need to think. This is not what I thought it would be.

  She stepped out of the shower cubicle and was startled to find Hugo standing there, holding out an oversized bath towel for her. He wrapped it round her shoulders and embraced her from behind. He rocked her gently in his arms as he kissed the top of her head.

  “Let me just have a shower too and then we’ll go.”

  “No, Hugo. That’s not necessary. I’ll take a taxi, it’ll be quicker. Besides, I’d rather no one saw us arriving together back at the office...”

  He frowned. Clearly this was not the aftermath he had expected. Laura could see the confusion and disappointment in his face but it couldn’t be helped. She had to get out of there. Fast.

  “Well, all right, then. If that’s what you want...” his voice trailed off.

  She didn’t fill the silence that ensued and so he tried again.

  “Right, so I’ll see you on Monday.”

  She stood up on tiptoe and kissed him briefly on the lips. “Yes, see you Monday.”

  Clasping the towel tightly around her, she walked out of the bathroom and closed the door firmly behind her. She walked round the bed and picked up her clothing off the carpeted floor. She donned the items, grateful that she’d worn jeans and didn’t have to grapple with tights. Dressing in record time, she checked her face in the mirror, ruffled her hair with her hands and applied a quick coat of lipstick. Then she slipped her cell phone into her pocket and hesitated outside the bathroom door. Should she go in? She could hear the water running and decided against it. She let herself quietly out of the room and headed for the lifts.

  She hailed a taxi outside the hotel and flopped back into the seat, eyes closed. Hugo would undoubtedly be puzzled by her hasty exit. Hell, even she was! What was wrong with her? Why wasn't she glowing with happiness and excitement? Why was she feeling.... go on, admit it ...feeling trapped? And cheated. Before she could analyse her feelings further, the taxi pulled up outside the Delta offices and she quickly made her way down to her car without running into anyone she knew.

  As she sped home along the motorway, she once again tried to work out how she felt about the afternoon's events. Certainly not the way she had expected. Damn it! Why did Hugo have to go and ruin everything? It wasn't fair. She had finally thrown caution to the wind in exchange for a session of passionate, exhilarating illicit sex and what had she received in turn? A tender declaration of undying love, which strangely enough had only served to make her ache for David.

  Damn, this was confusing. Sleeping with Hugo was supposed to have made her forget her husband, not long for him!

  Hugo had been sweet and gentle and generous in his love-making, not what she had wanted at all. She’d expected that tearing-off-of-clothes-and-sex-up-against-the-wall thing that people did in movies. She’d expected to feel liberated, to be able to flip David the finger the next time he got mad at her, safe in the knowledge that a hot session with her secret lover would make it all better.

  And if she'd been confused about whether or not she was in love with Hugo, it was all clear to her now. She enjoyed talking to him, sharing thoughts she knew he'd understand, and she loved the thrill of the sexual tension between them, but that was it. It wasn't love and no matter how sticky things got between her and David, this wasn't the answer she was looking for.

  If anything, it’d just proved to her she still loved her husband, no matter what. He was the one she wanted to be with. So she’d just have to find a way to make things work, providing her marriage was still salvageable. Did David still love her? She thought he did. So how had things come to this?

  Frustration coursed through her.

  What to do next? What was she going to say to Hugo on Monday? How was she going to break it off when it had barely started?

  ***

  Laura thought the coil in her stomach couldn’t possibly be any tighter, yet it ratcheted up a notch when David inserted his key in the front door.

  They eyed each other carefully, like gladiators sizing each other up before the first onslaught. They cheek kissed, keeping their bodies as far apart as possible. Vanessa ran up to her dad and leapt up into his arms.

  “Daddy!”

  “Querida!” David hugged and kissed Vanessa, watching Laura over his daughter’s head.

  “Let’s eat, dad. I’m starving!”

  “Okay, but let me just take off my jacket first,” replied David, loosening his tie.

  Laura led the way to the kitchen, thinking so far so good: he wasn’t overtly angry.

  But he would be if he knew you’d spent the afternoon fucking another guy. He’d go ballistic.

  Shit! What had she done? And what killed her was the fact that it hadn’t even been worth it. Not really. Had he ever cheated on her, she wondered. She half hoped so, that would even up the score and lessen her guilt. And if he hadn’t, perhaps one day he would. Didn’t most men cheat on their wives? She was pretty sure they did; she remembered reading about it in a magazine at the dentist’s. Or was it the hairdresser’s? Whatever, this afternoon served as an insurance policy, she rationalized. A standby take that! which she could whip out of her armoury should it ever be necessary.

  When she put it like that, the situation didn’t seem quite so bad; it sounded rather sensible in fact.

  They worked their way through dinner, chatting politely, but stiffly, the way strangers do when they are thrown together against their will, until Vanessa excused herself from the table to go and watch TV.

  The level of tension crept up an inch or two.

  David swallowed his last chunk of goat cheese and washed it down with a slug of wine.

  "So you’re wrapping things up at Delta next week,
" he said in that tone of voice people use when they’re trying hard to be pleasant.

  One thing she could say for David—he wasn’t one to bear a grudge. He was invariably the one that rebuilt the bridges after their fights. She was more prone to sulking.

  “Yes, Monday’s the last day,” she answered, not quite able to meet his gaze. He’d probably think she was subdued because she was still miffed, but rather that than the truth.

  "And have you achieved your objectives?"

  "Yes, I have, but the problem is there aren't any new contracts on the horizon," replied Laura as she sipped her coffee.

  "Never mind. You've been working really hard for months so you deserve a bit of a break.”

  “I don’t know if we can afford it, though.”

  “We’ll manage, don’t worry. Anyway, something will come up soon—it always does.”

  She took another sip. “I hope you’re right.”

  “Laura, I’m sorry about last night. I hate to see you looking so miserable.”

  Tears immediately sprang to her eyes.

  “I’m sorry too, David,” she said, apologizing for more than he realized.

  He took her hand across the table.

  “Don’t cry, Laura. I hate it when we fight.”

  She nodded and wiped her eyes with the back of her hands.

  “Are you all right?” he asked gently.

  "Just tired, I guess. I think I'll turn in early tonight."

  She stood up and started to clear the table, and David followed suit. She stacked the last of the plates in the dishwasher and glanced at the digital clock on the oven.

  "Vanessa! Time for bed."

  A wail of protest emanated from the sitting room. "But mom, I haven't even finished watching this program!" Vanessa yelled in a combative tone.

  Laura entered the sitting room and looked at the television screen.

  "Are you kidding me? This is a rerun. Even I've already seen it, Vanessa!"

  "Yes, but I haven't finished watching it tonight." Vanessa was wearing the expression she reserved for when her mother was being particularly obtuse.

  "Well, that's just tough, young lady. I'm tired and I want to go to bed."