by K. J. Rabane
During the following weeks, I remember identifying my wife’s body. The sanitised body, with all traces of the bloodied cuts mercifully removed, gave me the distinct impression that she was just sleeping. I closed my eyes to the laceration that started under the hairline and slashed across her cheek.
The eternity ring I’d bought in Germany sparkled in the beam from the spotlight above the mortuary gurney. Her short dark hair curled around her face and I felt as if my heart would break - it was as it used to be. She’d been to the hairdressers earlier and I knew that she’d done it to please me. The poignancy of the situation tugged at my heartstrings in a way I would never have thought possible.
The inquest was brief and to the point. The coroner instructed the jury that, although Mrs Hope’s body had contained a quantity of antidepressant drugs, it was clear she’d been prescribed them following her miscarriage some months before. He stressed that the amount in her bloodstream was not significant. The relevant line of enquiry had been followed and in his opinion, the pills were not a contributing factor to the incident on the River Road on Friday the 14th. However, the icy road conditions were another matter, as it appeared Mrs Hope had not refastened her seatbelt when she’d left her friend at her house, earlier. Therefore, under the circumstances he concluded, his advice would be to consider a verdict of accidental death.
When the police returned Evelyn’s belongings to me, I carried the sealed plastic bag towards the door leading to our basement, flicked on the light switch and went down the steps. Shelves ran from floor to ceiling. The previous owners of River House had been meticulously neat and it hadn’t been difficult for us to follow their example. Each shelf contained a variety of plastic boxes labelled in Evelyn’s sloping handwriting. At the end of the bottom shelf stood an unlabelled box, which I opened and dropped the plastic package inside with the rest of the things, too personal for me to look at. One day, I promised myself, I’d sort them out, when time had eased the pain of looking at reminders.
On the day of Evelyn’s funeral, Mrs Bates was busy in the kitchen preparing food so that family and friends could return to River House after the service. The weather had deteriorated and Evelyn’s parents were too elderly and infirm to travel. She’d been their ‘surprise’, a child born when both parents were in their forties. Her elder sister Sylvia and her family stayed overnight with Josie and Henry, as they were concerned their children’s boisterous antics would disturb me. I felt swept along on a tide of events, arranged without my participation by family and friends anxious to spare me the trauma of dealing with the funeral.
Somehow, I managed to watch, stony faced, as they buried my wife. Nothing penetrated the wall I’d built around me and I felt as though I were somewhere else, anywhere but standing at her graveside. The monotonous line of mourners, with their monochrome clothes, standing around the graveside made me wonder what she would have thought of it all.
Afterwards, when everyone was leaving I called to Evelyn’s sister, “Sylvia.” She followed me into my study. “I want you to have this.”
The top drawer of my desk slid open to reveal the black velvet box containing the diamond necklace I’d bought on my New York trip. I removed it and handed it to her. Sylvia gasped as she opened the lid and raised her eyes to mine. “I couldn’t,” she said, holding the box in the palm of her hand.
“Please. I know Evelyn would have wanted you to have it and so do I.”
She bent to kiss me and I smelled the same perfume Evelyn used to wear. With cheeks wet with tears we held each other for a moment, both trying to recapture a fragment of her that clung to us, ephemeral as the mist rising from the river at the bottom of the garden.
Later, I waved goodbye to Sylvia and her family and walked into the conservatory where all that was left for me was the view.
Chapter 15
The weeks passed and work was my salvation. I began to prepare the basis for my next project, which was Minotaur, a follow on from Centaur, which would be an advanced concept without appearing more complicated to use. Burying myself under a mountain of theoretical analysis, I found the distraction that stopped me from dwelling on my loss.
Returning to River House one evening I became aware spring had arrived, its birth having occurred unnoticed. Buried somewhere in the depths of my grief, I’d missed the first crocus shooting up through the frost-speckled earth and with surprise saw a clump of daffodils nodding their heads as I entered the driveway. It was an uncomfortable reminder of the day Evelyn and I had first seen the house. The Christmas and New Year period too escaped my notice, as had the dreaded months of January and February.
Mrs Bates was waiting for me as I drew up. “Mr Hope, I’m glad you’re home early. I wanted to see you before I left.” She looked agitated and I noticed she was wearing her outdoor clothes.
“Left, Mrs Bates?”
“Yes, sir. My sister over at Kings Bentham has had a nasty fall and broken her leg. She lives alone, now her Arthur has gone, and I wondered if you would mind if I took some time off to look after her. I’ve made sure the freezer is well stocked and….”
I stopped her in mid sentence, “Of course you must go, Mrs Bates. Take as long as you need. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.”
She buttoned up her coat and picked up a small case from the cloakroom. “There’s a casserole in the oven, Mr Hope.”
“Thank you. Now off you go. Do you want me to give you a lift to the station?”
“No thanks, I can hear Morton coming up the drive. I telephoned him when I heard your car.”
Morton Phillips ran a taxi firm on the outskirts of the village, a stone’s throw away from the entrance to our drive. I stood and watched from the doorway as his elderly black Rover saloon crept down the driveway to transport my housekeeper to her sister’s house, then I went inside to sample my evening meal.
After I’d finished eating, I called to Tinker and closing the back door behind us, walked down the garden to the river path. The ground was damp underfoot but not excessively so. I’d neglected Tinker of late and had been glad of Mrs Bates’s help. Now I was alone in the house, I’d have to make sure I gave him the care and attention he deserved.
Leaves were beginning to sprout on the trees and the river lapped gently against the bank on my right. Tinker trotted alongside me unwilling to run off into the undergrowth in case I disappeared. His tail wagged, as if thankful that at last it could behave as nature intended. From time to time he looked behind, making sure I was still there.
I began to feel my spirits lifting and took a deep breath relishing the fresh evening air and unable to quite believe I could spend more than a moment without thinking about Evelyn. It was getting dark as evening approached. Tinker was the first to hear the footsteps and smell the presence of the other dogs.
“Josie?” I said, as a figure approached from out of the trees.
“Good gracious, it is you,” Josie exclaimed. “How are you, my dear?”
“Better, I think,” I answered, cautiously.
“I’m so glad. We’ve missed you, you know, Henry and I. We wanted you to stay with us after Evelyn…”
“I know you did. It was..” I hesitated. “ it was just that I didn’t know what was happening at the time and Lucas, well Lucas, sort of took over. You know how it is.”
She nodded and put her hand on my arm. “Anyway, it’s good to see you. You must come over to see Henry some time soon. Please don’t wait to be invited.”
I thanked her and asked if she’d seen anything of Lucas and Leonora lately.
“They’re on holiday. We don’t see much of them now but I bumped into their cleaning lady in the village – they’re away for a month I understand.”
“Very nice, if you can spare the time,” I said. “It’s getting dark, I’ll walk back to the house with you. I took her arm. Passing the Bennetts’ place, which was in darkness, an owl suddenly hooted loudly above our heads and I felt Josie tighten her grip on my arm.
“Sor
ry.” She laughed.
We walked on together in the gathering gloom until we reached the bottom of her garden and there I accepted her invitation of a nightcap. Henry was reading in an armchair in front of a roaring log fire. He looked up as we entered the room.
“What a lovely surprise. Sit down and tell me what you’ve been up to.”
That night was the first time I felt a return to normality, after the horror of the past few months. Josie and Henry were amusing and entertaining company. No one mentioned Evelyn and I felt, although we had not spoken of her, she was still very much in our thoughts. That fact alone drew me even closer to them. The dear friends who had remained constant all through my wife’s odd behaviour and who, even now, were trying to keep me on the straight and narrow.
Henry insisted on driving me home and when I awoke the next morning, it was to a bedroom filled with sunlight and the knowledge that for once I had slept a dreamless sleep, undisturbed by the past.
A month had gone by when Mrs Bates telephoned to say her sister was still finding difficulty coping on her own and would I mind if she stayed on for a further couple of weeks. I told her to take as long as she felt it was necessary and that her job would be waiting for her whenever she decided to return. After assuring her I was coping, I replaced the receiver and realised I hadn’t lied, I was coping. Time was gradually filling my life with purpose and the rest I kept locked away, unwilling to open the part, which was filled with thoughts of her.
Perhaps I’d been over optimistic because, soon after, I returned home from my office to find the freezer was empty and the fridge and cupboards told the same sad story. It hadn’t occurred to me that at some point I would have to go shopping. It was strange because as I searched amongst out of date tins of mince and baked beans for something palatable to eat, I felt as though someone was watching me. Out of the corner of my eye, I could have sworn I saw a flash of red pass the window. Then I heard the back door open.
“Hello?”
“Leonora! I thought you and Lucas were still away.”
She was wearing a vivid red jumper and blue jeans and was carrying what looked and smelt like my dinner. In one hand, she held a key on a fine chain.
“I thought you might like some steak and kidney pie. I heard Mrs Bates had deserted you.”
“You must be a mind reader. As you can see my cupboards are bare!”
She laughed a high-pitched tinkling sort of sound I’d not heard before, put the pie into the oven and turned a few dials. Then she held out the key.
“I found this amongst my things. I’d forgotten about it. It’s your back door key. Evelyn gave it to me. She was afraid she would lock herself out when you were in work and thought if I had a duplicate then there would be no problem.”
“Oh, right,” I said, wondering why Evelyn hadn’t mentioned it before. She didn’t move but stood looking at me with a steady gaze. “Would you like to join me in a drink before I sample your kind offer of dinner?” I asked.
I thought she was about to say yes but without taking her eyes from mine, she replied, “No, thank you. I must get back, perhaps another time? Your meal will be ready in thirty minutes. I’ve set the timer.”
She backed out of the kitchen her eyes still locked on mine, then closed the back door behind her.
I watched her cross the lawn and make for the river path, the breeze lifting the curtain of hair from her shoulders as she disappeared into the woodland. Then I stood there, long after she’d dissolved into the mist hovering over the river and spilling into the trees, until the pinging of the oven timer broke the spell.
Chapter 16
Minotaur was proving to be a more difficult proposition than I’d envisaged. Chip Thornley and I spent many fruitless hours closeted in my office discussing features and analysing components until we realised things were not going as planned.
“Chip, I think we need a break from Minotaur and its problems. We’re getting nowhere fast with this, time to focus on other projects. Leave Minotaur to me and I’ll take it back to basics and see what I can do. It’s going to take time and I can use your expertise on other ventures.”
Chip closed his laptop and shrugged. “I hate being defeated but I don’t envy you unravelling the plot,” he said.
“Luckily, Maxwell Hutton isn’t on our backs at the moment. I spoke to him yesterday and he said they are more than satisfied with the sales from Centaur, which will hold him off for a while. Without rushing towards a deadline, I should be able to crack the problem and I think that the place to work on this is at home where there are no distractions,” I closed my briefcase adding, “Tell Alan he can contact me on my mobile or at River House.”
Summer arrived and with it Mrs Bates. Soon after the house smelled of cooking and furniture polish. Josie and Henry refused to let me wallow in isolation and were frequent visitors, often with kind invitations to lunch or dinner. When I failed to see them, they telephoned just to see if I was OK but I saw little of the Bennetts, after my housekeeper’s return. I supposed Leonora had tired of keeping an eye on me and I knew Lucas was a busy man with little time for social chitchat, unless it was at a gathering accompanied by his wife. Being a single person again absolved me from the obligatory invitation to a ‘couples evening’ and I found it a relief not to have to make small talk with strangers. I’d not yet reached the time when well-meaning friends would seek to invite me to join them in situations where there would be an obviously unattached female lying in wait.
The summer months were hot and sticky and people were beginning to wish for rain. I heard them in the supermarket discussing the drought and bemoaning the fact that there was a hosepipe ban and their gardens were beginning to suffer. Even though Mrs Bates had returned, I found I enjoyed my visits to the supermarket with its bright lights and piped music. Mechanically filling the shopping trolley, I let my mind wander to the Minotaur project. For some reason the distraction seemed to work and I was able to return to my desk with fresh ideas. I think Mrs Bates thought I was mad. It was beyond her comprehension that a man would actually enjoy the chore of shopping. Nevertheless, she humoured me and allowed me to help when the fancy took.
It was a hot afternoon in August, when the lawn had dried to a faded yellow and the flowers stood with their heads drooping searching for moisture, that I heard a car draw up on the gravel driveway and Henry calling out, “Hello, anyone about?”
I walked around to the front of the house as he was lowering himself into his wheelchair.
“Oh good, you are in residence I see. Wondered if you fancied a chat? I’ve brought a pack of cool beer with me. Josie said she’d walk over and drive me back later. How does that suit? If you’d rather work, you only have to say.”
“Nonsense, let me push you around to the back garden as the ground is a bit uneven due to the dry weather. No doubt you’ll be glad to know I’ve actually found some shade.”
When we were seated in comfort, the cool beer slipping down our parched throats, Henry said, “You’re looking better. Josie wondered if you were taking a holiday this year. If you want company you know where we are.”
I suppose I’d been thinking about relationships and suddenly I wondered about Henry and Josie. “The first time we met you told me you and Josie hooked up at a polo match. How did that come about?
Henry sat back in his chair, his face turned towards the sun.
“We started dating after the match, actually. She was a real live wire and I fell under her spell immediately. Six months later, I was playing a match in Buenos Aires. Josie was attending a conference in Geneva. The match was a gruelling fight and, although we fought hard, we were no competition for the Argentineans. I took a tumble and this was the result.” Henry patted his legs.
It was the first time he’d discussed the details of his accident. It showed me our friendship had reached a stage where he felt comfortable enough to trust me with such a sensitive topic.
“By the time they’d driven me to the hospital, I was in
excruciating pain. They X-rayed me, pumped me full of drugs and then decided to operate to relieve the pain. It was a delicate operation on the discs in the lumbar region. Didn’t work I’m afraid.
“After the accident, I spoke to Josie and told her to get on with her life and forget about me but she wouldn’t hear of it, told me not to be so selfish if you please. I don’t know where I’d be without her.” He was serious, as he continued, “It was Josie who banished my depression, she who insisted we marry as soon as possible so she could keep an eye on me. Her words, not mine, and she’s been doing it very effectively ever since.” The humour was back in his voice. “She arranged my work room so I could keep in touch with my office, sorted the house so I could get around without a problem and made me feel a man again. The woman is totally selfless. Who else would put up with an old crock like me?”
I sighed and changed the subject. “Henry, you and Josie are the kindest friends anyone could wish for. You’re anything but an old crock and well you know it. You really don’t have to worry about me. I’m managing very well on my own and trying hard to forget the past. And not to put too fine a point on it - you two have been the rocks I’ve clung to and saved me from drowning in despair.”
“Steady on,” he said, opening another can and sliding it across the table towards me. “Personally, I was so sorry that Evelyn didn’t make peace with Josie before….” He glanced up to see how I was taking his remark then continued, “We were very concerned during those last few months. Evelyn’s behaviour seemed quite unlike her. We didn’t comment too much at the time as we thought it was none of our business. Was it all to do with the miscarriage, do you think?”
I put my can down on the table between us and narrowed my eyes against the sun. “Impossible to say. At the time I thought it the most likely explanation but now I’m not so sure, her behaviour was at times both bizarre and disturbing.”