Double Bind

by Karen Bell

  The remainder of the evening flew by, as Mila ate like a bird, taking tiny morsels of this and that to taste, and Ryan polished off most of the rest. The salads, one cabbage and the other potato were exactly like those she remembered from her childhood, and for the second time that evening Mila felt a wave of homesickness and thought she might cry, especially when Ryan pressed her for an explanation of her fleetingly furrowed brow. He drew out an explanation without prying too far and Mila suspected it came naturally to him, although it must have been useful many times in his line of work.

  She finally stifled a yawn, remembering that she’d only had four hours sleep the night before and Ryan called over the waiter, whispering something to him that Mila couldn’t hear. When she stood to leave, Mila felt herself sway and Ryan wrapped a supportive arm around her. ‘You’re a bit of a lightweight drinker, aren’t you? Not that I was watching, but you barely had three glasses.’ Mila didn’t mention that the sum total of her previous exposure to alcohol had been the spirits with which Robert had drugged her.

  There was no bill, so no opportunity for Mila to offer her share but she sensed that he wouldn’t have allowed it anyway and as they passed the kitchen, Mihael and Irina came to say goodbye.

  Mihael looked at Mila thoughtfully yet again and asked. ‘I’ve been wracking my brains, trying to think where we’ve met.’

  ‘Not again,’ Irina scolded.

  ‘What is your surname?’ he asked. Mila told him her married name and he looked disappointed. ‘No,’ he said as if a light globe was firing, ‘I mean your maiden name.’

  ‘Korovin,’ she answered.

  ‘That’s it! You father was Alexi Korovin, the chess player.’

  ‘Yes. Did you know my father?’

  ‘Did I know him? Did I know him? Your father and I competed in the Ukraine when I was still in high school and he was not much older. He was a gifted player even then. When he came out here with your mother many years later he came to play chess at the same club where I used to go.’

  ‘I think I remember going with him to that club once. It was so full of smoke you could hardly see the player across the table.’

  ‘That’s the one! We played many times in tournaments as opponents and on the same team but he was too good for me. He was instinctive, made it look easy. But then the restaurant became so busy, that I gave up competition about ten years ago. I was so sorry to here about his passing…such a great man…such a terrible accident.’

  Mila could feel the now familiar pricking of tears behind her eyes. ‘So when did we meet?’ she asked, amazed that this man would recognize her from childhood.

  ‘I came to your father’s funeral. I wanted to pay my respects of course. I came up to you after and said a few words…’ he trailed off.

  Mila remembered little of the day of the funeral. She had been desolate, as though trapped in a thick fog. ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t myself. I hope I wasn’t rude.’

  ‘Not at all, you were very gracious but you looked so … lost. I didn’t recognize you sooner because back then you were so thin, so pale and I think you wore your hair differently.’

  Robert had demanded that Mila keep her hair in a bun when out in public. She couldn’t even remember if she had worn a hat on that day but she thought maybe not.

  ‘Do you play chess?’ Mihael asked more brightly.

  ‘Yes, from the time I was small, when my father taught me. He made it so romantic, like I was a princess in a real kingdom with all the knights and foot soldiers going to war to keep me safe. I love the game, but I was never talented like him.’ In truth, Mila had been a very promising chess player, but she had chosen gymnastics over chess as her leading passion.

  Robert and Mila had played once. She had initially played poorly to give him a fighting chance, but he was really a beginner and in the end she’d wiped the floor with him. It was to her detriment because it also became the last game ever allowed under his roof, Robert declaring it as an unproductive waste of time, given that there were always chores to do.

  Her small victory was to sneak in a game with her father when visiting her parents or collecting Holly from sleepovers. Often she would only have time for a few moves so her father eventually set aside a smaller travel set to keep their game going until her next visit. They’d been in the middle of one such game and between visits when her parents had been killed in the car crash and Mila had many times since, played out the remainder of that game in her head.

  ‘We will have to have a game you and I, some time soon,’ volunteered Mihael.

  ‘I’d love that,’ she answered with feeling.

  ‘I taught Ryan to play and he’s not bad when you can keep him still for long enough.’

  ‘And I might even come to like the game if you ever let me win,’ Ryan responded with his usual straight face.

  At that moment the waiter arrived carrying two large packages.

  ‘This one is for you and Jack…’ he said handing Ryan a huge carry bag, ‘…and the other, is salad and chicken for you.’ The waiter smiled and dipped his head towards Mila handing her a bag with two enormous containers inside. ‘Compliments of the house.’

  ‘Oh my goodness,’ she exclaimed, delighted with the surprise now she knew what Ryan had been up to earlier. ‘Thank you so much, there’s enough to last for a week.’

  ‘Or until our next visit – whichever comes first,’ added Ryan.

  Jack was sound asleep, curled up on his own dog-bed nearby. He yawned groggily when Ryan gave him a nudge ‘Come on sleepyhead, it’s past our bedtimes.’

  Mila hugged Mihael and Irina like old friends before returning to the car.

  ‘It’s astounding what a small world we live in,’ she commented, still blown away that Mihael had known her father and that Ryan had brought her to his very restaurant. But more than that, she felt the hand of fate that Mihael had persisted in trying to place her, among the many thousands of diners that he must have met. Because of that connection, she now felt less alone in the world.

  ‘Six degrees of separation,’ said Ryan shaking his head. ‘I can’t tell you how many times it’s helped us to solve crimes.’

  It was past midnight when they pulled up outside Mila’s house. ‘Let me see you in,’ he said, jumping out of the car to come around and open Mila’s door. ‘I’m so happy to not to be working tomorrow and you must be exhausted too.’ Mila wondered if that was a proposition but she really had only known this man since yesterday, even though it felt like forever and so she said nothing.

  The sensor light came on and Mila fumbled to find her keys in her purse, too shy suddenly, to look up at him. He was standing on the step below her but he was still half a head taller as he tilted her chin up so their eyes met.

  ‘So Mila, when can I see you again? Don’t tell me I have to wait for another break in.’

  Mila giggled nervously. ‘When will your home next be fumigated?’

  ‘Tomorrow, if necessary.’ His voice was low and sexy and the way his eyes searched hers as his face leaned in, told Mila in no uncertain terms that she was about to be kissed. She closed her eyes and felt his warm breath, over her skin, before his lips found hers. One hand cupped her face, his fingers in her hair, the other slipped around her back, drawing her against him.

  The kiss was, slow, lingering and for Mila, full of wonder. Her defences dissolved as his presence wrapped around her like the softest quilt and flowed through her like warm syrup. She felt his desire, mounting almost imperceptibly through his body and then, more urgently into that kiss. Finally, as if it took the strength of Titans, he drew himself just an inch away. ‘I think I need to stop now, while I still can.’

  ‘You know I’m kind of out of my depth,’ she whispered breathlessly. ‘I mean I don’t know the etiquette.’

  ‘There is no etiquette,’ he murmured, looking at her lips as if longing to kiss her again. ‘You just be honest with me, I promise not to overstep the mark.’

  ‘I think you may have alread
y. Do you think we could say goodnight with another one of those hugs you gave me earlier?’

  Without another word, Sergeant Ryan gathered Mila against him and wrapped his arms about her. She responded by slipping her arms around his waist. No sense of panic. No fear. She inhaled the scent of his aftershave and enjoyed the smoothness of his shirt over his chest, listening to his heartbeat slow and strong. He stroked her hair. Mila could have happily stayed there forever. He took both her hands in his when he said goodnight and stood on the porch until she was safely inside.

  Mila’s dreams that night were a tapestry of memories: only the good ones. She sat with her father in the sunroom, chessboard between them and he told her how happy he was to see her smile. She made piroshki in the kitchen with her mother and then sat to eat the delicious dumplings with potato salad around the kitchen table, only this time Irina and Mihael, Holly and Ryan were all with them and Mila felt the world was again perfect.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  The crashing noise of a truck dropping a metal bin out in the back lane woke Mila with a start. She flew out of bed, noticing it was almost seven a.m. No point in showering, she was going to be dirty soon enough, so throwing on jeans and a T-shirt she headed downstairs ready for a big day ahead. She was feeling focused and driven to clear the basement once and for all.

  She wolfed down a quick bowl of muesli, amazed that she could eat at all after the previous night’s meal, and then took a quick look outside. Perfect, the skip bin was right up against the fence as requested and Mila hoped to be able to throw the rubbish straight over the top.

  Negotiating the stairs to the basement was going to be a workout but she was fit and more than ready. Holly’s ridiculously generous Christmas gift to Mila had been a mobile phone loaded up with music that she thought her Mum would enjoy so now she put the earphones in, found the workout playlist and pressed play before heading down, hoping the destination might be less daunting with music to motivate her.

  She planned to start on the front area feeling that she’d be able to cope with the back room with partial success under her belt. Also, she wasn’t sure how to activate the door to that room and thought she might find it while cleaning out the front.

  Three hours and many trips later, Mila had filled about a third of the skip and archived what was left into boxes. She had noticed that the most recent files stored there were already five years old and wondered where Robert had kept the rest. She believed he’d paid for an office space somewhere after leaving the firm but he had never told Mila where it was located or even confirmed its existence. She was expected not to ask for information that Robert didn’t readily offer so she was now left with numerous unanswered questions – especially about finances. She could only hope that over the next few months with the help of the bank and maybe a good bookkeeper she would work them out.

  Late morning, as she came back in from one of her countless trips out to the skip-bin, she heard the phone ringing over her music. It was the landline and she picked up, feeling a warmth rise in her cheeks as soon as she heard Ryan’s voice. Although it was his day off, he was evidently not entirely off duty because he’d called to let her know that the prints hadn’t matched any that they had on record and the neighbours and local pawnshops had also drawn a blank.

  ‘Sorry Mila, I was hoping that I’d have some more positive news for you but I think maybe these guys were professionals. There’s been a spate of burglaries in the eastern suburbs over the past few months.’

  Mila was practiced at reading between the lines, and she sensed a snow job when she heard it. ‘Since when did one offender turn into a group?’ A little alarm was going off in her head that she hoped was imperceptible in her voice. ‘And you yourself said that your average break and enter doesn’t read through files. Is there something you’re not telling me?’

  ‘No. Nothing yet, but I do want you to keep your doors locked and the security on, whenever you go out and also downstairs at night when you go to bed. Just until we get this sorted out.’ His reply had done nothing to appease Mila’s rising anxiety.

  She looked down the corridor at the open back door and quickly walked down the hall to shut it. ‘You think I’m in danger?’ she whispered.

  ‘No. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to frighten you. I don’t think you’re in danger, I just care for you and want to make sure that you stay safe.’

  His sentiment sounded genuine and Mila was flattered but not convinced.

  ‘Ryan, if you wanted to freak me out, you’ve just achieved your objective. I’m not going to sleep a wink tonight.’

  ‘I’m so sorry Mila.’ He said for the third time. ‘Can we just pretend that I didn’t call?’

  ‘Well that’s easier said than done. The sooner I put this place on the market and move into a security building the better. Now I have to go because I’m in the middle of sorting things out for just that purpose.’

  ‘Do you need a hand?’ he asked sheepishly.

  ‘No!’ she exclaimed, with just a touch of hysteria in her voice. The last thing she needed was Ryan or one of his men cruising the back lane while she carried the contents of a discipline and bondage dungeon across the yard to the skip. ‘I mean I’ll be fine. I’ve just got a lot to do because I’m going out tonight.’

  Ryan sounded a little hurt as he said goodbye and Mila felt badly, but was too rattled by the free floating anxiety, that had just put a decisive end to her good mood. Just get this over with, she told herself as she turned up the music through the earphones and headed back down to the basement. You can apologise for your bad temper later.

  It didn’t take long for Mila to figure out the operation of the bookshelf door, which in the end was not high tech at all. It was a simple pivot door with a recessed magnet that kept it shut when not in use. No lock at all. In hindsight, Mila realised Robert would have known that no one would inadvertently lean against a bookshelf and open it by mistake. Besides, no one was ever in the basement uninvited.

  Once again inside the dungeon with all the lights on, Mila began to clean it out with all the speed and determination of a SWAT operation. Holding a filled garbage bag in each hand, she took the stairs two at a time. She had the key to the back door in her pocket and thanks to Ryan’s phone call, she now pulled the door shut each time she went in and each time she went out.

  It slowed her down but gave her some peace of mind. Ten garbage bags later and Mila noted with relief that the room had lost some of its previous identity. She started on the broken timbers and shattered glass with renewed vigour but there was no quick fix and she was forced to drag a big hessian sandbag back and forth, tipping the contents into the bin before going back for the next.

  She stopped to wipe her face and have a drink from the hose and when she looked up, was startled to see a neighbour had came over to ask somewhat awkwardly, about the break in and to offer condolences, regarding Robert’s passing.

  In the whole time they’d lived there, they’d not socialized with the neighbours even once. Robert was amongst those who considered Halloween a pagan ritual so Holly was not allowed to participate and moreover Robert was adamant that no sweets would be given. They soon gained the reputation as being spoilsports and their house had been egged on more than one occasion. This of course made Robert irate. He had door-knocked every house to find the culprits and threatened to file a police report if or when he found them. His actions had turned him into a pariah and made it impossible for them to attend the street’s Christmas party too. This lady was doing the polite thing but Mila suspected it was more curiosity and fear for her own safety that brought her over rather than genuine sympathy.

  What’s gotten into you? Mila scolded herself. You’re starting to think like he did. Just give the woman the benefit of the doubt.

  With the conversation over and the neighbour gone, Mila continued working like a woman possessed. She carried down a stepladder, a screw gun, a wrench and a crowbar to pull the final fixtures from the wall before dragging t
hem out. At a quarter to four she had finally cleared the back room too. All she had left to do was to sweep up and buy some filler to patch a few holes. She felt a load lift from her shoulders as she heaved the final timbers into the bin.

  At 4 p.m. sharp, as if on cue, the truck came trundling down the lane. Mila paid for it out of her rapidly dwindling cash and walked back inside closing the door behind her. She had earned a bath and a feed and was having second thoughts about a dance class but then again, she didn’t want to be alone all night either.

  She stretched out in the bathtub considering if she could somehow share with Adie the excitement of her unfolding romance without elaborating on the break-in and the circumstances of their meeting. She didn’t want to tell an outright lie but she felt pretty certain that Adie would ask how they’d come to meet.

  Maybe she could say that there’d been a burglary in the street and that he and his partner had been knocking on doors asking questions. Technically, it wasn’t really a lie, just an omission of details, such as whose house had been broken into.

  Thinking it through, Mila quickly dismissed it as an option. The scenario was unlikely, a relationship developing from a five-minute meeting and besides that, she couldn’t ask Ryan to be a party to a lie if the relationship developed as she hoped it would.

  If the opportunity arose to bring it up, Mila would just minimize the nature of the break in and maybe describe it as a couple of down and out opportunists looking for some quick cash for their next fix. Wasn’t that how that pretty constable had described it?

  By the time Mila heard the car horn beep outside she was ready, and feeling less tired. She had eaten enough to sustain her through a rigorous class without weighing her down. She had made doubly certain that all doors were locked and the alarm was beeping to show it was activated as she pulled the door shut.