by Hiba Basit
‘Stop,’ she warns him.
‘I’m just saying, do you want to talk about what happened?’ She doesn’t respond. ‘It’s just, you haven’t said a word about it since we got back.’
She moves her chair back as if she’s about to get up and leave without another word. ‘I can’t remember,’ she says.
He feels her lie cut through his skin. ‘Really? That’s why I found you shaking outside the toilets yesterday. And why you nearly blacked out in my office the day before.’
Images begin to play in her mind. Trying to distract herself, she picks up her food and chews on her fajita, realising too late that tomato sauce has dripped onto her lap. For a moment, she stares at the fresh stain on her skirt, until a sickening, overpowering sensation overcomes her. She tries to push back the bile rising in her throat. Felix is saying something to her in the background but she can’t make out the words. From out of nowhere, she feels a hand touch her shoulder and it sends shivers all over her body. She jumps up from the table and throws up onto the floor. She feels Felix hold her hair back as she kneels down, the sauce dripping off her new skirt into the mixture of vomit.
‘I’ll clean it up,’ she says, as her vision clears and she sees Felix grab a mop.
‘It’s all right,’ he says, but she quickly rises.
‘It’s my mess. I’ll do it.’ She wipes her face with the back of her hand and attempts to grab the mop from him but he dodges her grasp, instead grabbing her shoulders.
‘Why aren’t you letting me in, Gail?’ he asks. ‘I’ll clean your sick up if that’s the only way I can help you!’
She watches him silently as he swipes the mop back and forth without looking at her. A sudden feeling of guilt weighs heavily on her shoulders, as if someone has thrown a dozen stolen shopping bags over her arms. She opens her mouth to speak but nothing surfaces, so she closes it. The silence looms around them, loud and clear, like a million hushed whispers. This man in front of her is the love of her life, even if he doesn’t know it, and she can’t even confide in him.
‘I shouldn’t have gone in,’ she whispers. ‘Now my mind refuses to forget.’
Felix looks at her. He tries to keep his voice level. ‘What do you remember?’
‘Sometimes, nothing. Then, suddenly, the images flash through my mind.’ She thinks of the gun the officer placed into her hands, she remembers Felix telling her to put it away. She looks up at him. ‘Why didn’t you stop me?’
‘I ran after you. I called your name. Even if I’d caught up with you, you would have gone in anyway.’
‘But it wasn’t worth it!’
Felix moves towards her. ‘Why wasn’t it worth it?’
‘I should have let someone else go in.’
‘Why? Because I saw you bring her out safely. Only you!’
‘That’s not the point!’
‘It is. Wasn’t she in your arms in the ambulance? Didn’t she hold onto you when she was taken to hospital?’ he says, desperately trying to instil some semblance of reality for her.
Abigail looks away, pressing her forehead with her fingertips. ‘I don’t want to remember this, Felix. I want my memory to disappear. I want to start over, without waking up every single morning and seeing her in his arms.’ She walks towards the sink, not wanting him to see her cry. Felix stands there, helpless. If only he could pull the memory from her mind, he would. But her standing here, with her face turned away from his, because he was too busy following orders whilst she was busy disobeying them, pains him even more than their weekly episodes of non-committal sex.
‘What happened, Gail? What did you see?’
She turns around, her face moist with tears. ‘Her hand...’ she says. ‘She was lying beside him and her fingers… she was bleeding so heavily...’ She trails off, her expression dazed. ‘Oh God, Felix…’
She sinks to the floor, fitting with cries. He remains motionless, the images from the video coming back to him. ‘He had a knife to her neck. He said he was going to slit her throat if I came closer. So, I just watched! How sick is that? I just stood there watching as he raped her! I tried talking to him. I tried to convince him to let her go. He wouldn’t listen! I tried to edge closer to them, hoping he wouldn’t notice. I was a foot away when he moved her face sideways and kissed her, all the while keeping his eyes on me and keeping the knife against her throat. Then, he threw her at me. Like she was a corpse! I picked her up, lifting her from the floor. Her blood was all over my hands, so I took my jacket off and wrapped it around her. She was so still. She wasn’t even crying. I remember thinking, am I holding a lifeless corpse? That’s what went through my mind, but I checked her, she was alive.’
Felix kneels down next to Abigail and wraps his arms around her. Andrei raped Alex in front of Abigail. The truth keeps spinning in front of him, but shock has set in and he struggles to digest it. He tightens his arms around her, not knowing what else to do. Abigail feels all the energy drain from her body as her emotions subdue her. She wants to hold Alex again. She wants never to have been excited at finding the evidence unearthed only weeks ago. Felix manoeuvres her face into his palms.
‘You’re not to blame for his actions. You know that, don’t you?’ His fingers burn red imprints into the sides of her cheeks. She moves away from him, curling up on the floor in a foetal position, but Felix doesn’t give up.
‘Gail, look at me!’ He pulls her up. ‘He had a knife against her throat. If he said he’d kill her, he’d have done exactly that.’ She starts to shake her head. ‘Instead, you offered her the only help she was going to get. You took her into your arms and let her know that no one was ever going to hurt her again. Gail, you and the policemen, you all worked to save her life. If it weren’t for you, she wouldn’t be alive today.’ Abigail continues to shake her head again, disbelieving, knowing she should have done more.
Felix strokes her face with his fingers. ‘I think you need to go back to Annette,’ he says. ‘Shall I call her for you?’
Abigail turns her head, a half-nod, almost. He lifts her into his arms and walks towards the bedroom. Laying her down gently, he sits down next to her.
‘I’ll sleep here tonight,’ he says. ‘On the sofa.’ He starts to get up, but she holds onto him. He slips in beside her, noticing that she’s still shivering beneath the covers. He holds her in his arms and promises her that everything will be all right.
Annette enters Andrei’s cell. ‘You wanted to see me,’ she says, getting straight to the point. He greets her by proffering a hand, which forces her to stifle a loud laugh. She distrusts his unexpected chivalry, finding it doesn’t suit his character. Still, she shakes it and sits down.
‘I didn’t find out that night,’ he says. Annette searches her mind to remind herself of where they had left off in her last visit. Andrei said Maria had left Alex at the orphanage and she’d promised to return. He’d waited a whole year and then given up hope, of her returning for her daughter or for him.
‘The news of her death didn’t reach me,’ he says.
‘So, when did you find out?’
‘Three fucking years later!’ He pulls at his cuffs in fury, or distress, maybe both.
‘Is that what you meant when you said it was too late?’ He doesn’t reply, which answers her question. ‘What happened during those three years?’
He finally looks her in the eyes. His expression, although neutral, gives off something unsaid, an emotion she can’t pinpoint, and this unsettles her.
‘Alex happened.’
The hairs on her back prick her skin. ‘Go on.’ But before he can continue, the wind howls viciously, startling her. Andrei turns and stares at the grey sky. She clicks her fingers to retract his attention. ‘What happened?’ she asks, more spitefully than she intended.
‘I’m sick of you wanting to know the lot!’ he suddenly shouts, rising half-way. ‘Miss Prim, always wondering what I did to the children, what I did to Alex that night. As long as you have it jotted down in your precious poc
ketbook, that’s your job done, so you can filter through the notes afterwards and counsel her using idiotic psychotic strategies!’ He throws his face in front of her. ‘I knew Maria wasn’t coming back after a year had passed. I knew I was never going to see her again! I knew that she had handed her daughter to me through lies! She never loved me when she kissed me that night, the whore that she really was. She didn’t love Alex when she kissed her for the last time.’
‘I’m sure Maria loved Alex very much. A mother always loves her children.’
‘Not that whore! How could she love her when she left her to rot with me?’
‘She died that night. That’s not a choice she made.’
‘I didn’t know that, damn it! Whenever I looked at Alex, I only saw Maria and I felt humiliated. That child would look at me and cry out ‘Daddy’ and I let her, because I foolishly thought that’s what I’d be when Maria returned.’
‘So your hatred for Maria was projected onto Alex?’
He grimaces. ‘I never hated her! How dare you say that?’ Annette stifles a crude remark. ‘It was the embarrassment, the deceit that she’d left me with. All of the nurses would laugh behind my back and sneer in my face. I couldn’t take it any more. So, one night, when I knew Maria wasn’t returning, I took Alex down to the basement and placed her on the floor. I watched her for a while, how her blonde hair fell over her face as she wriggled around, her beautiful smile which had given me hope, but there was nothing pleasing about her any more. She was just another kid to look after, nothing but a burden. First, I thought about killing her. Then...’ He laughs so loudly, Annette moves back. ‘I stupidly thought, what happens if Maria comes back? She’d want to see her daughter alive and well.’
Well? Annette thinks in disbelief.
‘So, I took off her clothes, tied her to the bed and belted her. I found a pair of scissors on the windowsill and cut her hair off, pulling strands out with my fucking hands!’
Annette feels horrified as he continues to talk about the abuse. ‘She was screaming ‘Daddy’,’ he goes on. ‘She was screaming because she couldn’t understand what was happening. Well, that makes two of us,’ he snorts. ‘I didn’t know what was happening with her own mother! I remember lifting her up and calling Maria to come and save her, screaming at her to make me stop, to not let this happen to her daughter.’
‘Why didn’t you just kill her?’ she asks, realising how awful the question sounds. ‘I know you said that you were waiting for her mother, but when you found out she was dead, why didn’t you kill her?’
His smile unnerves her and her whole body tenses.
‘My plan was different.’
‘What plan?’ she asks, barely breathing.
‘This plan. I thought it might be more enjoyable to unhinge a child than to kill them and have their pain over within seconds.’
Suddenly, Annette feels winded, as if someone has knocked the air out of her. She starts to feel distressed and dizzy as he continues to narrate the events of the night, as if reciting a verdict: cold and careless.
‘That’s enough! That’s enough for today.’ She throws her notebook into her bag and signals for the guards. He stands up, as the guards get ready to manoeuvre him back to his cell.
‘Maria came to you for help,’ she shouts, making him turn back. ‘She trusted you enough to leave her child with you. She came to you because she had nowhere else to go. And then she died in a car crash. And what did you do? What did you think? That she had left her daughter with you deliberately, that she didn’t care for her. You thought about yourself, Andrei. Maria would be disgusted with you if she was alive right now, she’d be shocked if she found out what you had done to her beautiful baby. She wasn’t right to leave Alex with you. You abused your position at the orphanage, you tortured an innocent child, to get back at her mother! You make me sick! I hope you get what’s coming your way. I hope, with all of my heart, you get your comeuppance.’
Annette wraps her cardigan around her as she walks to the car. She opens the door and slams it shut. Placing her hands tightly around the steering wheel, she stares at the prison through the windscreen. Slowly, she breathes in and out, attempting to regain control of her beating heart. Then, suddenly, unstoppable tears emerge near the bottom of her eyelids. They hover on the surface and eventually fall. She rests her forehead onto the wheel as she tries to pinpoint the catalyst of her tears. In honesty, she doesn’t know if she is crying, since the act has been foreign to her for a long time.
She remembers a picture of Maria in the newspapers. Like Alex, she had luscious hair full of light blonde strands. Her blue eyes shone through her strands, almost radiating their own source of light from their iris.
Unwarranted images from Annette’s own past unexpectedly flash through her mind. They reach the corner of her vision before she manages to push them away. She squeezes her eyes shut, suddenly feeling shaky and weak. Why are these images coming now? After so many years of keeping a tranquil mind, why can’t she control what enters it and what doesn’t?
After a few more minutes, she straightens up and furiously wipes the tears away. Starting the car, she opens the window to let the cool breeze in and starts the drive back to the hospital, her face a new mask of composure, as if she had never been taken by a moment of sorrow.
***
In the late hours of the afternoon, David runs his hand along Annette’s thigh. The sensation makes her hairs rise. He quickly slips her heels off her feet and removes her stockings with his fingers. She pulls him towards her and his mouth grazes her lower lip. She smiles as she kisses him, his tongue beautifully alive inside her mouth. After a few seconds, he wraps his sweaty palms around Annette’s and climbs on top of her, when the phone rings. They both look up, stunned for a moment. Then, reality kicks in and Annette scrambles for the phone, wrapping a sheet around her as she climbs out of bed.
‘Hello?’ She watches David as he lies in a heap on the bed. He looks at her, his face a mixture of pleasure and predictability. His expression says it all: hang up and get back into bed!
‘Hi, Felix. No, of course you’re not interrupting.’ David’s expression turns sombre as he pretends to be insulted by her words. She grins at him, biting her lower lip to subdue her laughter. ‘Oh dear! How is she? Well, I have an hour free on Friday. Tell her to drop by around nine o’clock in the morning. All right, bye.’
David shakes his head as she gets back into bed.
‘The perks of being a psychologist. Sex is no longer a priority!’ He pretends to be annoyed. She grins and lands down next to him, briefly closing her eyes. The wind from the open window feels good, until she feels the light darken behind her closed eyelids. She opens them to find David leaning over her, his mouth hovering inches away from hers. Before he even says anything, she knows what’s about to come next.
‘I want to have your child,’ he says, and an icy shiver, much colder than the wind coming from the streets, scuttles down her spine. She forces a quick smile, closing her eyes without responding. She hears him whisper her name again, his voice growing heavier. She flicks her eyes open, already directing her gaze away from his.
‘We’ve talked about this,’ she says, injecting her voice with calm.
‘Annie, we haven’t talked properly yet.’
‘What else is there to talk about? I told you I don’t want to have children.’ He remains silent. ‘I thought you understood,’ she adds softly.
‘I don’t. You work with children. You’ve dedicated your whole life to them.’
‘Exactly! I work with children to help them. I’m not… maternal towards them.’
‘So, you don’t want a child of your own? One that we’ve created together?’
‘No,’ Annette answers, without hesitating. She gets out of bed and slips her dressing gown on. Thrusting her hair out from beneath its silk, she suddenly spins around. ‘I told you, the very first time you asked. I said that I didn’t want to have children. That I worked with children and that�
��s enough for me.’
‘I know,’ he says, considering her words. ‘But what about what I want? What about the fact that I want children one day? That I’d like to have them with you?’ She starts to shake her head. ‘So, you’re not even going to compromise? You’re not even willing? Don’t you want something that will bind us forever?’
‘I’m bound to you forever, David. I don’t need a baby to show me how much I love you. Just like the concept of marriage. A stupid piece of paper doesn’t certify anything, but I married you, right?’
He climbs out of bed and walks towards her. ‘You know how much I want children, Annie.’
She breathes through her nose. ‘No one would be able to look after the baby. I’ve just returned to work. You’re a surgeon, your hands are tied as well. And I would want our baby to be raised by us, not a nanny.’
‘I’ll take time off work.’
‘Of course you will,’ she says flippantly, her tone rising to sarcasm. ‘What about the nine months that I’m pregnant? I can’t afford to take even a bit of maternity leave. Damn it, David, I can’t afford to take a nap for two minutes without someone asking for me.’
‘We’ll figure it out. That’s what happens when a couple have a baby for the first time. They work things out together because it’s new to them. Don’t you want someone who’s yours?’
‘You’re mine,’ she says flatly, but he persists.
‘No, Annie, someone who is ours, together?’
Annette paces the room. ‘Even if I say yes to you, I’ll be saying no to myself inside. Is that what you want?’
‘No.’ He moves towards her. ‘But Annie, one day I’m going to want children so badly, no won’t do any more. I’ve always respected your decision not to speak too much about your childhood and your parents, but this is different. This affects the present and our future. I need an explanation!’
Annette leans back, uncontrollably chewing her lip as fatigue overcomes her. David notices the dark bags beneath her eyes. He glances around the room, full of electric energy a moment ago but now cold and gloomy.