by Colin Davy
“I live on my own.”
Riya frowned. “Nearby?”
“In Southport.”
She frowned again. “I don’t think you should be on your own tonight, Maria.” She turned to Gary and waited expectantly.
“I live downstairs,” he said. “I have a spare bedroom she could use for a day or two.” It sounded a little grudging, he realised, and Riya frowned at his tone before turning back to Maria. “Would you be happy with that?” she asked, giving another smile of sympathy. “The next few days will be trying and we’re not sure yet when we can release this flat. Hopefully very soon.”
“I’ll be happy to stay with Gary temporarily,” she said. “I don’t drive, you see, and I want to be nearby because I ….”
Riya smiled. “I’ll keep in touch with you until things are clearer,” she said. “There’ll be a detective Inspector in overall charge, but I’ll be the one to contact you. Is there anything you want to ask me at this stage?”
Maria sat up straight. “Debs didn’t do drugs,” she said. “She would never do drugs”
“I understand.”
“It was murder,” Maria said firmly.
Riya took a deep breath. “I understand your concern,” she said. “But let’s not jump to conclusions. The inquest will decide that.”
“There’ll be an inquest?”
“I suspect so.”
“Good.”
“It may delay the funeral.”
“I understand.”
Riya rose to her feet. “Can I say again you have our utmost sympathy. it’s a trying time, but if you have any questions, you will ring me, won’t you?” She handed over a white card and Maria put it in her black handbag. Holding out her hand, Riya shook hands with them both. “We’ll keep you informed of progress.”
He took it as polite request to leave them to their business, and he led Maria away without protest. She seemed in a semi-stupor and it wasn’t until they arrived at his flat that she came to life again. “I’ll need a change of clothes,” she said.
“We’ll fetch them from Southport.”
She frowned. “Deb’s flat only has one bedroom, is yours bigger?”
“Ah,” he said. “It’s identical to Debs, but I’ll sleep on the settee. I’ve done it before when I’ve had visitors.” He squeezed her hand for reassurance.
When tears welled up in her eyes, he held her close. He had no option, he decided, not really. Even if he could find the sheer nastiness and balls to ignore her tragic predicament, he suspected he’d have Sophie’s right boot in his unmentionables. To be honest, he realised he’d become used to living on his own. Slobbering around without a care was his default, but that would have to change. Although he liked the girl, it would be nice to have a choice in the matter. Nice, but irrelevant; he had a lodger for the foreseeable future.
Perhaps quicksand was the wrong analogy for this relationship. So far, he’d not been sucked in, but carried along by a reluctance to be hurtful. Circumstances had conspired to make a split unpalatable, and circumstances looked determined to keep it going. But he suspected, it would be a brother and sister relationship for now.
For her part, Maria was keeping true to her premonition or prophesy or whatever it was, that they were destined to be together. On his part, he was in the middle of a fast-flowing stream and unable to summon the energy or determination to swim to shore. But once the river had calmed, he’d be free to disengage.
Sophie agreed with his actions later when he found the time to ring, and by then, Maria had gone to bed. Whether it was tiredness, grief, or a mixture of both, her pallor had returned. Pleading tiredness, she’d retreated to her new bedroom.
Sophie had seemed cheerful when she answered the phone, but the awful news silenced her straight away. “She’s staying with me for as long as she wants,” he said. “Until she feels strong enough to go home.”
“Oh my God,” she cried. “That poor girl. For once you’ve done the right thing, Gaz. How is she?”
“Coping, but barely.” She’d used his mainline phone to call Keith, and he’d promised to pass on messages from the congregation. When she explained about her temporary change of address, he took it in his stride.
“Make sure you realise how vulnerable she is,” Sophie said. “Having lost her only close family member, she’ll be extremely sensitive. Even a loud voice might upset her.”
“I’m not totally clueless,” he said. “I’ll treat her with kid-gloves, but how long will her sister’s flat be unavailable?”
There was one of Sophie’s short silences and he prepared for the worst. “She may not be able to face living there,” she said. “Too many memories. Even your flat might be a struggle because it’s so similar. Don’t start looking at the calendar and sighing.”
“I won’t.”
“It shouldn’t be too long,” she said. “I expect the police will go for misadventure.”
“You think so?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “It’s guesswork at this stage, Gaz.”
“Maria is convinced it’s murder.”
“She’ll need time to come to terms with it. Hang on.” He heard conversation at the other end, and when she came back, she briefly apologised. “That was Scott,” she said. “He’s been earwigging with a vengeance, and he wants to know if he can help.”
“I doubt it, Sophe.”
“So do I,” she said. “But he wishes you well.”
“Tell him I’ll manage, but how is he now? Recovering from the bug?”
“The big baby’s fine, don’t bother about him, concentrate on Maria.”
“I will,” he said. “She needs a change of clothes, so I’ll take her to pick some up tomorrow. I’ve some holiday coming, so I’ll sort that out too.”
“Good,” she said. “Cheer up and try to get some sleep.”
“On my settee?”
There was a short silence. “You’ve only the one bed?”
“Too true.”
“Gary,” she said softly. “She’s just lost her twin sister. Bugger your precious comfort.”
He sighed. “You’re right, Sophe, don’t worry, I’ll look after her.”
“Where is she now?”
“Hopefully, sleeping,” he said. “But I doubt it.” He listened, but hearing no sound from the bedroom, he checked the clock. Eleven-thirty. She’d probably have had a restless night last night, so it was possible she’d be tired enough to sleep. “She found her sister’s diary in her bedroom,” he said. “But she didn’t mention it to the security man or the police.”
“Why not?”
“Not sure, but she mentioned it to me, and once she gets over the initial shock, I expect she’ll show me it.”
“Not necessarily,” she said, lowering her voice. “There may be personal things in there. Gaz.”
He sighed. “I suppose so.”
“Give her space,” Sophie said. “She’ll heal, but it’ll take time.”
“I know,” he said softly.
“Best of luck, Gaz, I’ll call by with Scott in a day or two. Let me know when she’s ready to see visitors.”
“Will do.”
“Bye.”
“Bye.”
After switching off the light he stripped to his underpants, but the temperature and humidity remained oppressive. Opening the French windows, he felt only the lightest of breezes, but it would do. Pulling up the thin sheet he’d picked out in case Maria got up in the night and wanted to talk, he tried to sink his head into the makeshift pillow. But he found sleep almost impossible.
How had he managed to get into a situation where a virtual stranger was sleeping in his bedroom? He knew very little about her background, yet they’d become a pair without him having any choice. This wasn’t a liaison begun on sexual attraction, but on Maria’s premonition of the future. Was it childish infatuation on her part, or was it destined to be? Her ominous premonition about the docks had come true in a horrible way.
Was Mar
ia right about Debbie being murdered? Unlikely, he thought. If Debbie was a dabbler, as even Maria conceded, she could well have dabbled in something she couldn’t handle. Tragic, but only the drug dealer could be blamed. Sophie had called it correctly tonight - a verdict of misadventure was nailed on.
He must have slipped into a light drowse because after waking from a muddled dream, he wondered what had woken him. Seeing the outline of a figure emerge from the gloom and start to look around, his heart skipped a beat. Peering forward, he made out the shadowy outline of a girl. “Maria?” he whispered. As his eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, he saw it was. “What’s wrong?”
She didn’t seem to hear him, but she began to look around as if lost before taking a tentative step forward. The French windows! If he woke her and she panicked, she might rush towards the windows. She could even go over the wrought-iron safety gate with enough impetus and hurtle onto the dockside. Unlikely, but throwing off the sheet, he jumped from the settee and pulled the windows closed, turning the key in the lock. Turning back, he saw her clearly for the first time. She wore nothing at all, and her eyes looked through him. Spooky, it was as if he wasn’t there.
She was sleep-walking!
Hardly surprising, but what should he do? Lead her back to bed and hope she didn’t wake; that seemed the best option. “Maria,” he whispered. “Give me your arm.” When she didn’t respond, he took her arm gently, and saw for the first time she wore a pair of pants.
He couldn’t blame her for sleeping light, but if she woke, she’d be mortified. When he gave a light tug on her arm, she followed without resistance, and he led her back to the bedroom. There, the night-light shone brightly, but she hardly blinked. Taking his hand, she sat on the edge of the bed with her legs slightly apart. After pulling him down beside her, she turned and gazed into his eyes.
They appeared larger than usual, but he wondered how conscious she really was. Although she pulled him closer until their hips touched, her eyes lacked focus.
Feeling uncomfortable, both mentally and physically, he remained unsure what she expected. Did she want him to embrace her? “What is it, Maria?” he asked softly.
“Maz,” she said. “Debs always called me Maz.”
“I know.”
When she took a long breath, her breasts rose a little and his eyes were drawn to them. Although they were small, they weren’t quite symmetrical. The right one was a fraction larger and the left areola had a more intense pink colour. A bead of sweat trickled between them and gained momentum before getting trapped in her navel. Looking away, he noticed the light ginger down on her thighs and the two pubic hairs that had escaped her pants. He decided to concentrate on her expressionless face, even if the eyes looked beyond him. But he didn’t want to break the silence, frightened he might shatter the spell. She couldn’t be fully conscious, he decided, she looked to be in a full-on trance.
Gripping his hand tightly, she began to speak in a monotone. “Debs felt something deeper,” she said. “Although she was a rebel, she felt an affinity with Christ. A one-to-one relationship with him despite breaking rules. That’s why she was a true pentecostalist in spite of her frailties.” She looked away for moment.
“I know,” he said again. Best agree with everything she said. He thought, and hope she falls asleep naturally.
Her eyes drifted to his chest. “She was a searcher,” she said, her voice fading slightly. “Always a searcher, looking for the ineffable. Why is there something rather than nothing?”
“Uh?”
She waited for an answer.
“I’m a scientist, or was,” he said. “If there was nothing, we wouldn’t be here to ask that question.”
Her lips tightened. “Scientific equations fit the facts because that’s what they are. But who made the facts and why are they those particular ones? That doesn’t answer the question, Gary.”
At least, she recognised him, but she’d put him on the spot. He knew he must find an answer to keep her talking. He also wanted to adjust his underpants to hide his growing tumescence, and he wasn’t sure which was most pressing.
“Physics,” she continued to his relief. “Or rather mathematics, suggests something can arise spontaneously from nothing.”
“Maria,” he whispered. “What are …” He stopped talking, deciding it might be best to let her talk.
“Debs was a questioner, you see,” she said. “Despite being a questioner, she was nearer them me to be being a true Christian.” She sighed, staring now at a point still more distant. Grabbing the chance, he turned away and rearranged his underwear as best he could. Now wasn’t the time for sex to rear its ugly head.
But she remained in a world of her own, where sound was the only medium. He could probably strip off completely and she’d never notice.
“Debs always asked where the laws of physics came from. Is it just ‘they are’? She was always curious, you see.”
She was rambling now, he decided.
“I know what she was searching for,“ she said. “Peace, the real peace of Christ. Did I give it to her?”
“Maria,” he whispered softly. “You need to rest.”
She frowned, as if she heard but couldn’t see him. “Debs was concerned about the finances too,” she said. “I should have known, but she didn’t tell me because she didn’t want me to worry.” She looked to one side and shivered, despite the warmth of the room. “She took it upon herself to investigate. All that curiosity, and I killed her.”
What? Where had this come from? Had she been reading her sister’s diary?
“I killed her,” she said again. “All that curiosity stilled forever.” Tears rolled down her cheeks and she began to weep.
“Hush, you didn’t kill her” he said softly. “You did all you could to stop it.”
“I killed her,” she said again. “That’s what they’ll all say.”
“No, they won’t.”
“We argued a lot,” she said and as her body tensed, her tears stopped and she began to blink rapidly.
“All sisters argue” he whispered, and on an impulse, he kissed her hand softly. “You need to sleep.”
This time, she seemed to take notice, and after releasing his hand, she lay back on the bed and closed her eyes. Gripping her legs, he moved them round to rest on the bed and covered her with the light sheet. Not for warmth, the night remained warm and muggy, but for her own peace of mind when she woke. The feel of the sheet seemed to relax her and she began to breathe normally.
Had she ever been fully awake? He doubted it, but it had been a surreal few moments. And for him, a turning point. No longer was she a nuisance, she was a responsibility, and one he understood better. Her unnecessary guilt at her sister’s death and her sudden vulnerability had touched him. She’d exposed more than her body to him tonight. Perhaps quicksand was the right analogy after all?
Back on the settee, he struggled to sleep. Her heart was broken and he wished he had the spell to mend it. Although he was tempted to check on her, he knew she might wake, and she needed all the sleep she could manage. He must let her sleep while she could. The day had been long enough and he suspected tomorrow would be little better.
Chapter Nine
It was light before he finally fell into a light sleep, and the hand that woke him just after nine was Maria’s. She’d dressed in the clothes she’d worn yesterday, including the thin sliver cross, but the careworn look had returned. “I thought I should wake you,” she said softly. “Do you need to go to work?”
“I’ll ring in later,” he said, pulling the sheet up to his neck. “I’ll be taking a few days holiday.” He hoped it was a look of relief that spread over her face. “How did you sleep?” he asked.
She looked confused. “Not well, and I had some vivid dreams. One really weird one.” She shook her head. “I’ve put the kettle on, do you want tea or coffee?”
Nodding, he waited until she moved to the small kitchen before discarding the sheet and reaching for hi
s trousers. After a quick scramble, he put them on and grabbed the rumpled black t-shirt he’d worn the night before. Putting that on, he turned to see her staring at him, her eyes wide.
Her face looked different this morning. It seemed to have come sharply into focus. The almost amorphous sameness he’d once seen had vanished with the new day. Even her minor imperfections seemed now to be lovable quirks. Her nose, with its slightly crooked look - as if it had been broken and reset badly – seemed endearing. And though her lips appeared fuller, her eyes still dominated. Lively and searching, and searching for something in him, he thought.
“You wore them last night,” she said.
“Uh?”
“It wasn’t a dream.”
“Maria?”
“Your underpants,” she said. “I recognise them. It was real after all.”
“What was?”
Her mouth opened slightly and she shook her head. “It wasn’t a dream, I did speak to you.”
“Oh, that,” he said. “You walked in your sleep, that’s all.”
“That’s not all,” she said. “You saw me.” Somehow, she made it sound like an accusation.
“Only to see you safely back to bed.”
She stared for a moment. “I was naked.”
“Well not …” He trailed off, there was no point splitting hairs, even pubic hairs.
She shook her head as if in disbelief. “I came out your bedroom and woke you.”
“You were sleep-walking.”
She looked down at her dress, as if seeing it for the first time. “I must have taken it off,” she said.
“No wonder,” he said. “It was bloody warm last night. I walked you back to your bed and you went into a proper sleep. You hardly disturbed me at all.”
“But I exposed myself.”
“Maria,” he said softly. “A very pretty and naked woman is hardly a hardship. I suspect it was the first and last time you’ll ever do it. I’ll have it as a beautiful and very brief memory. And …” he paused. “You wore a pair of pants so it’s nothing I don’t see on the beach. You’re worrying too much about a minor flash of your boobs.”
Her cheeks finally showed a little colour. “I disturbed you when you were sleeping by flashing myself. It’s the shame of it.”