by Marnie Perry
But she had to admit she was relieved, more than relieved, happy that he had stopped her. She had stood a long while with the scissors in her hand just looking at her hair, she knew it was the sensible thing to do, but more than anything she had not wanted to do it.
She was already mourning the piece she had cut off. She looked at herself in the mirror, part of her hair was now shorter on one side than the other, but as he had said, apart from that there was little damage. She touched the side of her hair where she had cut the piece he had taken and where his fingers had slid so gently a few minutes before. Why had he done that? Oh, what did it matter, and why was she pondering such trivial thoughts when she had so many much more important things to think about?
She jumped startled as a knock came on the door. ‘Yes, Mr. Lando?’
His hand reached into the door holding a shirt. ‘There’s clean towels in the cupboard there, but don’t be all day about taking that shower.’
She took the shirt from him, ‘I won’t. And thank you, Mr. Lando.’
He didn’t reply but withdrew his hand. She stayed there just looking down at the shirt which was again the same type as the one she wore, then recalling his words quickly began to undress.
She removed the bandages carefully wincing as she did so, then realised that he would have to see to her feet again, unless she did it herself. Yes, that would be best, after all, she felt better after her much needed sleep and quite capable of tending to her own feet. When she stepped into the shower she closed her eyes with relief and pleasure as the warm water flowed over her aching, and by now, very grimy body. She washed her hair not even considering how she would dry it; it was just so nice to have it clean again. She very reluctantly turned off the water and stepped out of the shower quickly drying herself with the worn but clean towel.
She wondered how Lando did his washing, she had not seen a washing machine, maybe he did it the old fashioned way, in the sink, then hung it out to dry, the weather was so hot here it would be dry in thirty minutes.
There she went again thinking about silly mundane things, but while she was thinking these things she wasn’t thinking about Sterling Hennessey, or Glissando. She put to the back of her mind the fact that she might not be thinking about them but she was thinking about Jonas Lando.
She dressed in her tatty jeans and Lando’s shirt and slipped on the sneakers then using the small comb she had found on the window ledge she tried to bring some order into her knotted hair, of course Lando had no conditioner so it was hard going. She gave up when she realised that she was taking too much time and he would be getting annoyed again, besides her arms were aching, especially her shoulder.
She pulled the hair out of the comb, washed it, then put it back on the window ledge. She pinned up her hair as best she could then taking a very deep breath opened the door. She took another deep breath before entering the living room. She was saved by having to look at Lando, who was in the kitchen, by Dante who came running over to her wagging his tail but still looking nervous, it was obviously a perpetual look with him. She bent down to stroke him saying, ‘hello, Dante you silly old dog.’
His tail wagged with even more ferocity whipping against her leg. ‘Hey, don’t you think I have enough bruises as it is?’ But she was smiling so he didn’t take her seriously and continued to whip her legs with his tail.
She giggled but Lando snapped, ‘Dante, stop.’
Dante looked at him and Adela could have sworn the dog was hurt, she patted and rubbed his back and head and said to Lando, ‘it’s all right, really. I was only joking about the bruises, what difference will a few more make?’
She was trying to make light of her injuries and at the same time stick up for Dante but Lando said curtly, ‘he’s not used to other people, he won’t know when to stop. I don’t want him getting into bad habits.’
She knew what he meant, he didn’t want Dante to get used to other people and maybe go wandering off and find someone who wouldn’t appreciate his new- found exuberance. Plus, she had the feeling that Lando didn’t like Dante’s friendship with her, that he was jealous. Instead of amusing her it caused a softness in her towards him, she saw him in a new light, his jealousy proved he had feelings and emotions therefore made him seem more human.
So after giving Dante one last pat she stood up saying to Lando, ‘thanks for the shirt,’ she smiled, ‘that’s something else I’ll have to send you when I get home.’
He turned to look at her and the smile slid from her face. He had said nothing but she knew what he was thinking, the same thing she was, that she might never go home.
She lowered her eyes and walked to the living room area where she stood in front of the painting of the little house she had noticed earlier.
He watched her for a moment then asked, ‘how’s your shoulder?’
She turned to him, instinctively touching her shoulder, ‘oh fine, thank you.’
He knew she wasn’t fine, but he had discovered that she would say she was if her entire body was covered in third degree burns.
He turned back to what he was doing which was making them something to eat. He had of course noticed her expression when she had said what she had about her home. He also noticed that she had washed her hair and pinned it up. He wondered what she had used to comb it, probably his small comb in the bathroom which for all that hair was neither use nor ornament. But she did look better, cleaner of course, but also more awake and alert, less agitated.
A few minutes later his voice behind her made her jump, ‘you’d best eat; you’ve had nothing since yesterday afternoon.’
She turned and looked at him then down at the coffee table in which he had placed plates of bread and cheese, plus an assortment of fruits and nuts.
She had been hungry before but since the thought of home had come to her had suddenly lost her appetite but knew he would insist so said, ‘thank you, Mr. Lando.’ She sat down on the sofa and picked up a piece of bread and some cheese saying, ‘it looks very nice.’
He sat down on the armchair but did not respond to her comment so they ate in silence until Adela unable to stand the silence any longer said, ‘that painting there,’ she nodded at the wall, ‘it’s very pretty.’ He said nothing nor did he look up at the painting, ‘it’s not signed, do you know who the artist is, or was?’
‘If it’s not signed how should I know?’
She refused to be put off by his brusqueness, ‘well, I thought you might have known him, or her of course.’
He didn’t reply so she stood up and nibbling on a piece of apple walked up to the painting and leaning closer studied it in more detail. She knew almost nothing about art but she did know that this painting was not done by a professional artist, nevertheless it was very good.
To her surprise Lando said, ‘I don’t know what you find of such interest in that picture, it’s depressing.’
She turned quickly around in surprise, ‘depressing? I don’t think so.’
He raised his eyebrows as if he wasn’t used to be argued with, which of course he wasn’t living only with animals for the past four years and they weren’t known for their debating skills. He said, ‘so you’re a connoisseur of art are you? An expert?’
‘No, not at all, I know next to nothing about art.’
‘Well then.’
‘Just because I know nothing about it doesn’t mean I can’t have an opinion.’
‘Unless that opinion is inane of course.’
She frowned knowing he was deliberately trying to put her down. She was getting annoyed herself now and turning back to the picture said, ‘although I can see why some would think it depressing, but it would depend on your point of view. Someone who always looks on the black side of things might see the trees as kind of menacing, as if they’re threatening the house somehow, ‘she turned her head slightly towards him but did not see the scowl on his face at the obvious dig at him, ‘but someone with a more positive, a more optimistic outlook, would see the trees as not
malevolent but benevolent. Such as person might see them as protecting rather than threatening the abode and the occupier.’
'Occupier?’ The word was low and full of amazement.
She turned her eyes to his at the same time pointing at the upstairs window in the cottage, ‘yes, there, in the window.’
He did not move to join her but remained seated still and silent. She turned all the way round to face him surprised he had not come to see what she was talking about, but felt a sudden rush of embarrassment as she found him staring at her, a strange look on his face. She asked with concern, ‘is something wrong, Mr Lando?’
He continued to stare at her his Adam’s apple moving forcibly up and down as he swallowed deeply. His voice was very low as he said, ‘no one has ever noticed that before.’
She frowned, ‘no? He seems perfectly clear to me.’
His head shot up and his eyes narrowed as he snapped, ‘he? Why would you think it’s a he? The figure is hardly discernible; your eyesight can’t be that good.’
She was taken aback by his vehemence, ‘I…I don’t know, I just assumed…I don’t really know.’
Lando stared at her for a long time as if searching for something in her eyes. Feeling very awkward she turned back to the picture, ‘but as I say it seems to me as though the trees are watching out for the,’ she hesitated, ‘occupant. And that they’re waiting just as he…they are, for something to happen’ her tone was very soft and rather wistful now, ‘something they have been waiting a long time for, something good. Or maybe it’s a someone, yes, a someone. And when they finally arrive it will all be over, all that waiting and hoping and…’
She broke off as Lando suddenly stood up and began gathering the plates roughly together then took them into the kitchen where he banged them down into the sink with a crash making both Adela and Dante jump.
What the hell was wrong with him? We’re discussing a painting and he gets all agitated and angry. And he thought she was strange.
As for Lando he was furious, not with her so much as with himself, he shouldn’t have acted like that, like a loony. No one had ever said the things she had about the painting, everyone else who had ever seen it saw only the dreariness and melancholy of the picture; they had said it was miserable and gloomy, a bit like he was really. It was one of the very few things he had brought with him from his and Adrianne’s apartment in Montgomery. Maybe that’s why he kept it, to remind himself that he had always been this way and his time in prison had not been the cause of his particular misery and gloominess.
Of course until now no one had seen the painting since he had been here.
He picked up the first aid kit and walked back to the living room, she was still standing staring at the picture. He snapped, ‘when you’re finished admiring and critiquing that picture we have things to discuss, but first your feet need bandaging again.’
She turned to him, ‘oh yes, all right.’ She sat down and he knelt in front of her and opened the first aid kit.
She said, ‘thank you, but I can do that myself.’ He ignored her as though she hadn’t spoken and began taking off the sneakers. She bent down and put her hand on the sneaker he was removing, ‘Mr. Lando, I’m not helpless.’
His head came up and the eyes that met hers spoke volumes. She said hurriedly, ‘I mean I’m not helpless now, I’m quite recovered and more than capable of seeing to the bandaging myself.’ She gave a shy smile, ‘I’m just not used to being cosseted.’
A look of surprise flickered in his eyes at the word “cosseted,” then his expression altered to one of scepticism then to disbelief. Despite what you might think,’ she added spiritedly.
He stared at her a moment longer then carried on with seeing to her feet. She said, ‘Mr. Lando, did you hear what I said I can...
He cut her off, ‘I heard ya, I ain’t deaf. And rendering first aid to someone’s injuries ain’t the same as cosseting. And the sooner you shut up and let me finish the sooner we can have that chat.’
She was rendered silent and leaned back in her chair. She really didn’t want to argue with him, after all he had taken care of her and he had let her stay here. He had held and comforted her when she had broken down. This reminded her of an oversight on her part so said softly, ‘Mr. Lando? I should have said this before, I’m not usually so lacking in manners. Firstly, I want to say I’m sorry for the things I said to you in the barn.’
Without looking up he said, ‘you’ll be happy to know your manners are still intact 'cos you already said that.’
She gave a small smile, ‘I know I apologised earlier, I just thought it needed reiterating. But I also wanted to say, thank you. Thank you for…for taking care of me when I…when I was upset earlier.’ She gave a long heartfelt sigh, ‘you must rue the day you ever set eyes on me.’
He stopped what he was doing and looked up at her. She lowered her gaze and he was left looking at her bent head. After a few seconds he carried on with his task.
Eventually he was finished and stood up. She raised her eyes but did not look at him as she said quietly, 'thank you, Mr. Lando.’
He said nothing but went into the kitchen. He put away the first aid kit and switched on the kettle then stood looking at her staring at the grandfather clock. He knew what she was thinking, time was running out. They had lingered too long here; they should have left and gone for help. But how could she have gone with him? It was almost a mile to town, too far for her to have travelled in her condition, and now she was a little better it was too late. Well that was the least of his worries. She was right, if she couldn’t convince the police of her innocence they would take her to jail, and if she did convince them they would release her and Glissando would get to her either way. She would not be safe whatever happened.
But no matter if they believed her nor not, he had still lied to the police and would still be in trouble, Sullivan would see to that. Then who would care for Dante and Josie and the foal and all the others? And who would protect the woman if he was in jail? But amidst all this worry was the way she had thanked him for taking care of her, so softly, so sincerely. When was the last time someone had thanked him for anything? So long he couldn’t recall.
Lando was right; Adela was looking at the clock which said 3.15 a.m. Just twenty seven hours since she had arrived here, forty one since she had run from the shack and Hennessey. Plenty of time for him to hunt her down. She wondered what was taking him so long to get here. Because she knew he would come, he would never give up until he had explored every avenue, turned over every stone. And one of those avenues or one of those stones might lead him here, to Jonas Lando. She shivered at the thought.
Suddenly Lando was beside her handing her a mug of coffee, then he took a blanket, the same one he had given to her earlier when she had sat and told him of her adventures, and put it over her shoulders. She gave him a watery smile but didn’t speak, she was recalling the way he had said “chat” and it did not conjure up images of two people talking cosily in front of the fire.
He sat down on the armchair and sighed heavily, ‘what you said earlier, you’re right, I might “rue” the day I laid eyes on you because I can do without the trouble you’ve brought me. But no matter what you or anyone else might think of me, I wouldn’t turn away someone in trouble, and, lady, rarely have I seen anyone in more trouble than you.’
It was a poor attempt at a joke he realised and she looked shocked then frightened, then as the realisation that he was making a joke dawned said ‘you say you don’t want trouble, yet despite my warning you persist in calling me lady’
It was his turn to look surprised then his expression turned to exasperation as the beginnings of a smile lifted the corners of her mouth before it became a fully fledged grin. He felt his own lips began to twitch but he managed to control his features before it turned into a real smile.
When he looked back up his face was set and serious and the smile slid from her own lips. He said, ‘I saw you looking at the clock and I k
now what you were thinking, but we have to put this into perspective. The odds of your friend Hennessey coming here are pretty low, as are the odds that he thinks you would come here at all. As I’ve already said, if he were coming he would have been here by now, he would have been waiting for you, the same goes for Glissando’s men.’
She said nothing but he knew what she was thinking, that Hennessey would come and so would Glissando’s men.
He said, ‘I believe that Hennessey kidnapped you that night because he was running out of time. He had beaten up your friend Maxwell, why, we may never know and it isn’t important right now, but that incident altered his plans. Maybe Glissando heard about it. You said that Hennessey told you Glissando had spies in Eden reporting to him everything you did there. It stands to reason he would hear about that and threatened to send his two enforcers to take over, so Hennessey had to act immediately.’
She listened intently as Lando went on, ‘but that’s all by- the -by now, the important thing is to discuss our options, the first of which you’re not going to like.’
She knew what he meant and recoiled, she was about to speak when he held up his hand, ‘hear me out, okay.’ She nodded and continued, ‘I know how you distrust the law right now, as I do,’ she raised her eyebrows at the incongruity of that but he ignored her, ‘but Sheriff Lomax is a good guy, trustworthy and honest, plus he won’t be browbeaten by those two Mississippi detectives. Besides, they have no jurisdiction here.’
He paused and looked at her from under his eyelashes, ‘but the feds are a different story and they’ll probably be involved, if not for your kidnapping then because they’re probably aware by now that Hennessey is connected to Blakemore’s murder. Lomax won’t be cowed, but he’ll have no choice but to hand you over.’
She shivered again and pulled the blanket tighter around her as though it would protect her from federal agents.
If Lando noticed he chose to ignore it, ‘of course, Hennessey is smart and as you said the consummate liar, he might have lied about the feds or even the cops being in Glissando’s pay.’ Lando knew Hennessey hadn’t lied but he tried to believe that right now she was better off in their custody then here, isolated and alone with only him to protect her. He just wished he could make himself believe it entirely.