David moistened his lips with the tip of his tongue. “So what can I do for you, officers?” He hoped his voice sounded steadier to them than it did to him. He folded his arms across his chest, and then promptly dropped them to his side. Body language, he reminded himself. Look cool. They can’t know anything.
“Nice dogs you have here, sir.”
“Thank you,” said David cautiously. Where was this going? Had someone complained about them maybe?
“Sir, have you noticed the vehicle that is parked round the side of your property? Down that little lane over there?” asked the officer, pointing towards the short cut that led to the village.
“No, I haven’t,” answered David frowning. “We never use that lane because of the potholes. It’s little more than a track now.”
“So you don’t know how long it’s been there?” asked the other officer.
“No, I don’t know anything about it. Why? Is something wrong?”
David’s blood pressure slowly returned to normal. At least they hadn’t waved a search warrant in his face; they hadn’t demanded to come in and question his wife.
“We’ve run the plates. It was stolen in a nearby town three days ago, and we wondered if you’d seen anyone or anything suspicious.”
David’s blood pressure started to soar again, as the alarm bells went off.
He pursed his lips and shook his head. “Can’t say that I have. As I said, we haven’t driven down that lane for ages, and it isn’t visible from the garden because of all the vegetation.”
“That’s all right, sir. He’s probably long gone.”
“He? Who’s he? Are we in any danger here?”
“No, I shouldn’t think so, but it never hurts to keep an eye open.”
“But what happened? Was it serious?” asked David.
“The owner of the car, an elderly lady, was forced to make substantial withdrawals from an ATM on Saturday.”
“Then the man, whom we think is a foreigner, shoved her onto the ground and drove off in her car,” his partner added. “He must then have teamed up with a mate, dumped the car here and driven off in another one. Probably a stolen one, too.”
“That’s terrible. I certainly hope they’re far away by now.”
“Well, if you think of anything, or see anyone…”
“Yes, we’ll certainly go down to the station if we notice anything,” David replied.
The men shook hands again.
“Good job you’ve got those big dogs,” said the younger officer. “Help you sleep better at night.”
You have no idea, thought David.
Chapter 31
Laura nodded at Vanessa without hearing a word her daughter was saying. Her back was rigid, her face as stiff as if she had lockjaw.
She turned when she heard David come in, her demeanour that of a cornered animal.
“You’re up already,” said David.
“Yes, I heard the doorbell.” Her jaw moved up and down like a wooden puppet.
“I see. Let’s talk in the office while Vanessa finishes watching her show,” David suggested.
She got shakily to her feet and followed her husband down the hallway.
“What did they want, David? I listened in on the intercom but I couldn’t catch everything.”
“It’s okay. They don’t know anything. We’re all right,” said David, shutting the door behind them.
He paced the room as he recounted what the officers had told him. “Nobody is going to miss that nasty piece of work. I doubt anyone will report him missing, and even if they did, there’d always be the possibility that he’d gone back home, wherever that may be.”
Laura sank down onto the soft brown leather sofa; her legs felt too weak to sustain her any longer.
“I got such a fright when I saw the police at the gate. I almost threw up,” she said dolefully. “I don’t want to live in fear.”
“It won’t be like this forever. It’ll start to fade till it’s just a distant memory, like a dream,” said David, sitting down next to her. “Anyhow, even in the worst case scenario, nobody could prove that we were the ones that buried him there. Our toll gate records can prove we were out all day. Anyone could have come in and done it.”
“I suppose so. But what if they identify him from fingerprints in the car?”
David scoffed. “Fat chance of that happening. Even if he is in a database somewhere, I very much doubt the police will process the car. Not a small case like this.”
“Well, for once I’m grateful police resources aren’t what they should be,” replied Laura, getting up. “I have to help Vanessa with her homework now. But first I need a drink.”
David raised his eyebrows in surprise as Laura downed a glass of Muscatel wine, and then poured herself a second.
“What?” she asked, seeing the disapproving look on his face. “I think I’m entitled to something to steady my nerves, under the circumstances.”
David held out his hands in a conciliatory gesture. “I didn’t say a word. But this isn’t your first today, is it? I smelt it on your breath when I arrived.”
“So what? You’re my father now?”
“I’m just concerned, that’s all. It isn’t like you.”
“Yes, well, normally my nerves aren’t shot to pieces.”
“Why don’t you hit the cross-trainer when you’re feeling tense? Or the punch bag? A good long workout will do your body and your mind more good than the booze.”
“Yeah, just as soon as this stiffness in my neck goes away,” she grumbled. “Anyhow,” she said, changing the subject, “are you going in to work tomorrow?”
“Yes, I don’t have much of a choice. And anyway we have to start going back to normal now. We have to put this behind us.”
“Yeah, good luck on that then. It’s Mariana’s birthday next week and I can’t even bear the thought of having to make small talk all evening.”
“We don’t have to go. Isn’t Mariana having a sleepover for her friends? We could have a weekend away then—just the two of us. In the mountains or at the coast. How does that sound?”
“Wonderful,” she replied wistfully, “but I’m not so sure about leaving Vanessa behind. It’s one thing for us to be down the road from her, and quite another to be miles away. What if she needed us?”
“She won’t need us. Sara and Miguel are perfectly capable of looking after her for a weekend.”
“Yes, of course they are. In fact, it’d probably be best for Vanessa. I’m sure she picks up on my anxiety.”
“That’s settled then. I’ll talk to Sara tomorrow.”
***
Laura procrastinated over her bedtime bathroom routine. David was already in bed but she was reluctant to join him. The bedroom was too dark, too airless. The walls seemed to press in on her. She needed more space, more air. Her breathing became more erratic, more shallow.
“Laura? You coming to bed? I have to get up early tomorrow.”
“Coming,” she managed.
She picked up a couple of cushions off her chaise longue and stacked them on her pillow. That should make it easier to breathe. She lay down, trying to quiet her racing heart.
What if she had another panic attack?
This thought was enough to trigger the very thing she feared. She threw back the covers and jumped out of bed, hands tearing at her pyjama top.
“Laura! What is it? What’s wrong?”
“I can’t breathe. I need to go outside,” she croaked.
She opened the French windows, threw back the shutters and stepped out onto the walled balcony. Alarmed, David leapt out of bed and followed her.
Laura looked like a trapped animal, caged in and desperate to escape. Her eyes darted wildly about, her hands clutched at her throat.
Shit! This was scary stuff! This was not the Laura he knew. His wife was as tough as they came. She didn’t scare easily, and she was sensible and down to earth…
He held her by the shoulders and made her look
at him.
“Laura,” he spoke firmly, yet calmly, “It’s okay. It’ll pass. There’s plenty of space, plenty of air. Just look out over the garden. See all those stars twinkling in the distance? See that endless sky? Okay, good, now breathe in… slowly, deeply…. good ... now let it all out. That’s it. Good. Now again. Breathe with me.” He inhaled and exhaled slowly and loudly, as though showing her an intricate procedure.
When the worst had passed, he led her back to the bed and closed the window, leaving the shutters open. He pulled her pyjama top off over her head and rolled her onto her stomach. Then he straddled her back and began to knead her neck and shoulders, pinching and pressing until the muscles relaxed beneath his touch. Then he moved down her back, working his hands in slow sensuous circles, his fingers brushing her breasts and the swell of her buttocks.
Her breathing relaxed and her body went limp. David felt her drift off, but sleep was now the last thing on his mind.
Chapter 32
Laura knew just how concerned David really was. It wasn’t yet midday and he’d already called three times to check up on her. Dona Maria, bless her, seemed to be rather watchful, too. Had he asked the maid to keep an eye on his wife?
Dona Maria, please call me if my wife freaks out or collapses on the floor. Oh, and by the way, make sure she doesn’t hit the bottle too hard, will you? Just take it away from her if she starts to slur? Okay? All right then. Have a nice day now.
Fine. She was being bitchy, but she was tired of being afraid of being afraid. Did that even make sense? She’d once read an article about depression at the hairdresser’s. One of those editorials that help you diagnose and assess all your issues by taking a quiz. She clearly recalled a line that said worrying about having a panic attack was just as serious as actually having one, and that professional help should be sought at once.
At the time she’d scoffed at the whole thing. Panic attacks indeed. People just losing it out of the blue, ridiculous. Of course if they’d suffered a traumatic event, a vicious attack, say, then it was probably entirely understandable. Normal, even. Nothing to be concerned about; certainly there was no need to see a psychiatrist.
It was nothing a shot or two of Muscatel wouldn’t cure. Although to be honest she was beginning to find it a bit too sweet now. Perhaps she should change to white wine. Or perhaps a shot of vodka.
Her legs propelled her to the kitchen. She paused in the doorway, listening to see where the housekeeper was. She could hear banging and thumping coming from upstairs. She was probably dusting Vanessa’s toys. Quickly, she opened the fridge, took out a bottle of white wine from the cooling rack, and not bothering with a glass, took a healthy swig. Ahh! That was more like it. Nice and cool and not as sweet.
Hearing footsteps coming down the stairs, she hastily corked the bottle and put it back. Then she scuttled away—just like a cockroach does when someone turns on the light.
She stood at the sink, pretending to wash her hands as the housekeeper came in. A feeling of shame washed over her. What had it come to? Drinking on the sly? Slinking furtively round her own home?
She bit her lip. This wouldn’t do. She’d either have to sort herself out or get help. Not that she balked at the idea of seeing a psychiatrist; she wasn’t prejudiced or narrow-minded. But if she did so, she’d be admitting she had a serious problem, one she couldn’t deal with herself. And what if the shrink wanted to know the cause of her anxiety? What would she say? No, she’d rather try and deal with her issues by herself first.
She went upstairs, changed into her workout gear and hit the home gym. She pondered which CD to select. No opera today. She was already feeling too emotional as it was. She wanted something combative; something that would pick up her spirits, make her fight back and not give in to this dreadful anxiety.
She settled on a recent workout music medley that would get her blood pumping. She inserted the CD and cranked up the volume. She could feel the bass vibrate through the floor. That should keep the demons out.
She went through the procedure of wrapping her hands, and was annoyed to find that they were shaking. She gritted her teeth. She’d give them something to shake about.
Laura approached the bag, shoulders hunched and head curved, gloves under her chin. She danced around the bag; then she lashed out.
Jab! Jab! Jab! Right cross! Left hook!
The rage that drove her punches said it wasn’t a bag she saw before her.
One hour later, she sank to the floor, legs trembling. At least now it’s justifiable, she thought with satisfaction.
***
Laura kept up her gruelling exercise schedule over the next few days. Every time she felt the overwhelming constriction in her chest, she hit the gym. Sometimes more than once a day.
Punishing the body to save the soul.
But it worked. She began to feel like her old self again—more in control and better equipped to deal with the mundane events of daily life. Like a weekend away.
***
“I’m all packed,” said David, throwing a gym bag into the boot of his car. He’d changed into a pair of faded jeans and hoodie, and looked more like a surfer than a stockbroker.
“Let me just feed the dogs, and then I’ll pack my stuff.”
“Okay, I’ll help you.”
They waited while the dogs double-checked their bowls for any residual scraps of food. When they were finally satisfied that nothing had escaped their attention, David collected all six bowls and rinsed them under the garden tap.
“These dogs love pasta almost as much as Vanessa does,” he joked.
“Yes, quite a treat they had this evening.”
“They won’t be so lucky this weekend. Dona Maria will make sure they stick to a healthy regimen. No scraps allowed.”
"I still don’t know where we’re going."
“It’s a surprise.”
“But how will I know what to pack?” she demanded.
“Just pack a casual outfit, a track suit and your running gear.”
“Running gear? That doesn’t sound much like a relaxing weekend,” she protested.
“Trust me. You’re going to love it. Now go and pack Vanessa’s things and don’t forget Mariana’s present.”
“Yes, sir,” replied Laura, realising David had taken charge of the household. Even though he’d always shared the housework, lately he had taken over the management, too—essentially supervising her the way she normally supervised her daughter to ensure things ran smoothly. How odd that their roles had been inverted; normally she was the one issuing orders and lighting fires under everyone’s backside.
***
“I can’t thank you enough, Sara,” said Laura as she handed Vanessa’s overnight bag to her friend.
“Don’t be silly, Laura. Vanessa is no trouble at all. See,” she said, “they’re already keeping themselves busy.”
The girls were on all fours, pouring over the scattered pieces of a Barbie puzzle, totally taking over the uncarpeted part of the living room floor.
“This weekend getaway was long overdue; you and David need some time to yourselves.”
Laura smiled. “Yes, I can’t believe that we’re finally having a weekend away by ourselves,” she said. “I’d better run, David is double-parked. But, Sara, please call if anything…”
“Oh, be quiet, woman,” Sara interrupted. “Stop fussing like an old mother hen. Vanessa won’t even know you’re gone.”
And sure enough, she didn’t even respond when her mother called out a final farewell.
Both women laughed. As Laura turned to go, Sara reached out and hugged her tight.
“Make it work, Laura,” she whispered.
Chapter 33
By the time they reached their destination, crimson streaks ripped through the cyan velvet sky along the horizon. David drove slowly down the coastal road that led to the fishing village. There was little traffic now, but in August it would come alive with tourists, and emigrants who were coming home fo
r the summer.
Laura lowered her window and inhaled deeply. The crisp, salty sea air filled her lungs and lifted her spirits.
“Why are we here, David? It’s been years since we’ve been here.”
“Fifteen, to be exact,” he answered.
“So?” she asked enquiringly.
“So wait and see,” he replied mysteriously.
The village prepared to greet the night. The street lights were already on, and most cottages had a light or two burning. As they passed each of the trees that lined the boulevard, a cacophony of birdsong floated up to them. Here and there stragglers hurried to find a free perch, only to cause even louder squabbling.
A group of rowdy teenagers made their way up from the beach, surfboards tucked easily under their arms. They tossed their trademark sun-streaked hair as they laughed and shoved one another.
Laura watched them with a pang akin to envy. Oh to be so young and carefree: to be immortal, to be king of the world. A time when life was yours for the picking, and sorrow, pain and death were merely words in a dictionary, words uttered by tiresome old people.
The familiar breathlessness and racing heart threatened to take hold of her, but she valiantly fought them down. She lowered her window further and focussed on the horizon, taking slow deep breaths and controlling her breathing. Discretely, so that her husband wouldn’t notice.
David carried on driving until the houses started to dwindle, giving way to farmland. He turned into a narrow little lane and came to a halt outside a picturesque cottage, perched on a hillside overlooking the ocean.
Laura gasped as she realized where they were. David cut the engine and she jumped out excitedly. She twirled around on the lawn, arms widespread and head thrown back, like an Olympic figure skater. David looked on, obviously pleased by her reaction.
“Oh, David! What a sweet thing to do,” cried Laura as she hugged him tight. “How did you think of it?”
“Well, this is where we spent our first night together. I thought if we came back here, just the two of us, like before, we could recapture some of that old magic,” he said, somewhat embarrassed at sounding so corny.
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