The Blame

by Park, Nichola

  Tears filled her eyes. He had been so supportive and understanding. How could she ever have thought they weren’t good together anymore? She stroked his cheek and smiled at him.

  They stood together a minute, holding hands and looking out across the lawn at the sea. The horizon was a deep indigo now and a line of lights twinkled across the seascape—fishing boats heading out for their nightly harvest.

  Laura inhaled deeply and let her breath out slowly, feeling her muscles relax completely for the first time in weeks.

  David squeezed her hand and led her to the porch. He turned the doormat over and retrieved the front door key. Laura quirked an eyebrow at him: “Are you kidding me? People still do that?”

  “They do here,” he grinned.

  He opened the door and stood aside to let her in. Laura walked round the cosy cottage, examining everything and trying to find traces of their presence there fifteen years earlier. The terracotta floor tiles were still highly polished and the rustic stone walls were still adorned with wooden barnyard relics. A pile of wood was neatly stacked in the fireplace even though the nights were now sufficiently warm to forgo heating.

  “Nothing’s changed, David. It looks exactly the same!” Laura said in wonder.

  David smiled, but he was pretty sure the lounge suite had been reupholstered and the curtains replaced. But he was happy to let nostalgia work its magic on his wife.

  “I’ll be back in a minute. I’m going to get our bags.”

  ***

  Laura couldn’t quite believe it. There she was having dinner in a restaurant, just like an ordinary person. She had even laughed a few times, momentarily forgetting the burden she carried with her wherever she went.

  She glanced around at the other patrons. They appeared to be local families out for a meal, or city couples on a weekend getaway. Did any of them harbour secrets, too? Would they cringe in horror if they knew hers? Would their eyes widen in disbelief as they shepherded their children out of the restaurant?

  I have to stop doing this! I must not allow that evil man to take over my life!

  She forced herself to focus on the moment and clear her mind of her other troubles. Discipline was all it took, she told herself.

  While David had already demolished most of his grilled sea bass, she had been picking at hers absent-mindedly. Now determined not to let David’s efforts go to waste, she concentrated on enjoying her evening out. She tucked into her meal with gusto.

  Her appetite seemed to be back.

  David smiled at her and she was suddenly aware of the toll recent events had had on him. His face was gaunt and the furrows on his brow seemed deeper. Even the sparkle seemed to have left his eyes. All this time she’d been so wrapped up in her own misery she’d forgotten his. She’d all but forgotten her fling with Hugo, but she was pretty sure that David hadn’t. He must still be hurt, and there he was having to deal with another crisis. She’d make it up to him, show him he was the one that mattered, the one she truly loved.

  She placed her hand over his.

  “David, this weekend was a lovely gesture. Thank you.”

  She saw him swallow the lump in his throat. She wasn’t the only one who’d become more emotional, more easily moved to tears.

  “All I want is for you to have some peace and quiet,” he said softly.

  They both knew that the kind of peace she needed—they needed—came from within, and not from a bucolic country setting. But it was as good a place as any to start their emotional healing. It would take time for the scar tissue to form around the deep wounds. But form it would; slowly yet inexorably, until all the hurt was gone.

  She realized that this is how it would be: good days followed by bad ones, until eventually there would be more good than bad.

  And today was a good one. She’d had two glasses of wine with her meal—to wash it down, and not to steady her nerves.

  Progress was the succession of tiny steps.

  Chapter 34

  The cotton floral curtains were no match for the early morning rays of sunshine that rudely forced their way into the bedroom, striking Laura in the face and bringing her to wakefulness. She squinted towards the window, wondering why she’d forgotten to close the shutters the night before.

  It took her a couple of seconds to realize where she was. A weekend away at the coast—and it was going to be a lovely sunny day to boot! A feeling of pleasant anticipation washed over her. She indulged in a luxuriant stretch, flexing her muscles until she felt the knots in her back loosen.

  She turned on her side to look at David. In sleep he looked more relaxed and youthful; the tension that had lined his face seemed to have slipped away. As if aware of her scrutiny, his eyes fluttered open.

  He smiled sleepily and placed his arm over her waist.

  “Morning, sunshine.”

  “Yes, there’s plenty of that today. Let’s have breakfast out on the terrace.”

  “Sounds good, but let’s have our run first.”

  “David! Not today. I don’t feel like it. I just want to laze around,” she protested.

  “Laura,” he replied patiently. “Don’t forget exercise is the best way to fight stress. Don’t start skipping your workout sessions.”

  He tactfully avoided mentioning that doing so increased the danger of her falling back on her alternative method. And while she was no alcoholic, she was certainly moving toward a slippery slope.

  His words reminded her why they were there in first place. She sighed, sat up and swung her legs out of bed. On the up side, she’d been awake for a good ten minutes before “The Secret” had insinuated its way into her thoughts.

  That was progress indeed.

  ***

  “You were right. Nothing better to relax the muscles than exhaustion,” panted Laura as she threw herself down on the sand.

  David leaned over her, hands on his knees, breathing hard.

  He nodded in agreement, too winded to talk, and plonked himself down next to her. They both stared out over the ocean as they stretched to get rid of the excess lactic acid in their muscles.

  The seawater sparkled and glistened as though it had been liberally sprinkled with rhinestones. Laura watched as the successive waves curled and broke on the shore, accompanied by a gentle swoosh. She took off her shoes and socks and wiggled her toes in the wet sand, enjoying the feel of the salty spray on her lips and hair.

  She sighed pleasurably. Nothing was more therapeutic than losing oneself in the sights, sounds and taste of a beautiful deserted beach. She squinted upwards at a squawking yellow-legged gull. She loved their familiar call although she found it somewhat haunting and disturbing—like the cry of a lost, lonely child.

  Child.

  She reached for the cell phone in her bum bag.

  David frowned. “Who are you going to call at this hour?”

  “I want to check up on Vanessa, just to make sure that she slept all right.”

  “You’ll do no such thing. Sara promised she’d call if anything happened. We have to learn to let go, Laura. We can’t chain her to us all the time; we have to sever the umbilical cord.”

  She put her phone back and smiled at him. “Well, I don’t know about severing it, but maybe I could try to lengthen it a bit…”

  David chuckled. “It’s Mariana’s birthday—they’ll be having a ball. She probably won’t spare us a thought.”

  Laura smiled. “That’s good. I guess.”

  ***

  Laura drained her glass of orange juice and, using her heels to pause the garden swing, set it down on the terrace. She leaned her head back against the padded cushion and closed her eyes as they swung gently to and fro. “I wish we could just stay here forever and forget about our other life.”

  “But we can’t. And anyhow, you love our home. It’s what you’ve always wanted.”

  Silence.

  He nudged her leg with his knee.

  “It was, but now…. I don’t know if I’ll ever feel comfortable the
re again. But I’m too scared to sell it, so basically we’re shackled to that property for the rest of our lives,” she said, her voice cracking.

  “It’s early days yet, Laura. We don’t know how we’ll feel in a couple of years’ time. Let’s just take it one day at a time.”

  “Maybe,” said Laura doubtfully.

  “We have to create new memories that will supersede all the others,” he said emphatically. Then out of left field, he grabbed her hands and asked: “Do you still love me, Laura? I mean really love me?”

  Hot tears sprang to her eyes. Did she love him? How could she not? He was part of her; he completed her. She couldn’t imagine not having him in her life. He’d seen her at her best and at her worst, and accepted her as she was. She’d been silly to hanker after adrenalin rushes when those fizzled out so quickly.

  As she looked into his eyes, the love she felt for him was deep and solid and enduring. And yes, he could still make her pulse race, and more. Much more, because no one knew her like he did; no one knew what she liked like he did.

  She nodded at him through her tears.

  Leaning over sideways, David picked up his iPad off the end table, tapped it a few times and then put it down on the seat next to him. Familiar harmonica notes floated up to them, followed by Springsteen’s gruff voice:

  I come from down in the valley

  Where, mister, when you’re young

  They bring you up to do like your daddy done…

  Their song. Their cottage. Fifteen years on. So much that was different, and yet so much that was exactly the same.

  “Tell me, Laura. I want to hear you say it.”

  She gripped his hands tightly and met his gaze, “I love you, David. I always have and I always will.”

  He took her in his arms and crushed her to his chest. After a moment he released her, his emotions more under control.

  They listened to the rest of the song in silence, eyes glistening and hands tightly clasped.

  When the last note had died away, David leaned over and kissed her lightly on the lips. He drew back and held her face between his hands.

  “It doesn’t have to be like that for us,” he said. “It’s not too late. I think we can still make it.”

  She looked deep into his eyes.

  “I know we can.”

  She got up and led him inside.

  THE END