by Alex Day
Standing by the side of the road with her thumb out wouldn’t have been so bad if it weren’t for the searing strength of the sun. Edie wished she had water, a hat, anything that someone with any sense would have brought with them. A car stopped but was heading in the wrong direction; she would have had to get out as soon as they were through the tunnel under the mountain. A steady stream of hire cars packed with vacationers in brightly coloured clothing passed her by. Nobody seemed to have any room for her. Edie was on the verge of giving up and going back into town to mooch about until Zayn was done (and accept the wrath of Vlad when she missed the beginning of her shift) when a car indicated, slowed and pulled in. She sauntered along to it, refusing to succumb to an undignified run. Bending down to look through the window she hesitated, knowing she had seen the driver before but unable to place him. He was wearing a dark blue baseball cap with an extra-long peak and mirror sunglasses, resulting in not much of his face being visible.
‘Get in,’ he said, leaning over to release the passenger door handle for her. ‘I assume you’re heading back to the resort?’
Edie played it cool, pretending that she knew exactly who this over-friendly man was. Nonchalantly, she nodded and slid into the seat, using the time taken to shut the door and do her seatbelt up to search her mind for his identity.
‘Had a good morning?’ he was asking, and then it came to her. He was the man – she knew his name but couldn’t for the life of her remember it – whose pool she had been caught skinny-dipping in and who she had seen around the resort with his family a fair amount. Unable to suppress a grin at the memory of his captivated gaze upon her naked body in that pool, she turned her face away to the window.
‘Not bad,’ she lied, referring to his question. She wasn’t in the mood for a conversation, had too much churning around inside her head.
‘Have you been working here long?’ he tried again, his attempts to engage her in conversation aggravating and somehow cute at the same time.
‘A few months,’ she answered, noncommittally.
‘This is our first time,’ he continued, seeming oblivious to her monosyllabic replies. ‘We absolutely love it. It’s a great little country, isn’t it? I can see why they call it Europe’s undiscovered paradise, the pearl of the Adriatic and so on.’
‘It’s nice, I suppose, if you like that sort of thing.’
‘I guess it might seem a bit slow for a young person like you,’ suggested the man, hesitantly, as if responding to her reticence. ‘Away from that place down the coast where all the action is. But it’s just right for us old has-beens and our kids.’
Edie demurred politely.
‘My name’s Patrick, by the way.’ Of course; she recalled now how his wife had enunciated his name when expressing her disgust at finding someone in her pool, her posh accent with its clipped syllables.
Having introduced himself, Patrick took his eyes off the road to glance at Edie expectantly.
‘Edie,’ she acquiesced.
‘My wife is Debs and the kids are Lucy and Tom.’
‘That’s nice.’ She tried to sound interested in his dullsville family.
‘I’m a journalist. I don’t do travel writing but I might give it a go now I’ve been here; there’s so much to write about.’
Edie nodded.
‘We’re going on the trip to the canyon tomorrow – you know, the rafting and camping one. The children are over the moon, they can’t wait.’
Edie suddenly took notice. This was the trip Vuk had asked her to go on. Her enthusiasm for it waxed and waned as did her feelings towards Vuk. Encouraged by the shadow of a response, Patrick continued. ‘Have you been? It sounds fantastic.’
‘I haven’t yet but I’m going on the same trip as you.’ Edie twisted the end of her hair around her finger. ‘I’m told it’s amazing. Although apparently the rapids are fairly tame at this time of year, when there’s been so little rain for so long.’
‘Better for us, Edie.’ They were on the homestretch now; not too much longer to make small talk. ‘I’d love to get the adrenaline going but the kids are only ten and eight; they’re too young for high-octane danger.’
Edie contemplated a life of domesticity and restriction; unable to do exactly what you wanted when you wanted. She was sure she would never have children. She felt sorry for the man. But then, it was his choice.
‘I might give the zip wire a go, though.’
Edie regarded him, a smile curling around her lips. He was actually quite endearing but he didn’t look like the adventurous type, with his barrel of a belly, sunburned nose and thatch-like Boris Johnson hair-do. The idea of him attached to a wire rope hurtling across the canyon at thirty miles an hour like a super-powered pocket-rocket fur ball was simply too ridiculous.
Patrick gave a short snort of laughter. ‘Well, maybe not,’ he continued in an ironic tone of voice, as if he could suddenly see the same mental picture as Edie. He slowed down as they approached the corner just before the gatehouse that gave entrance to both the resort and the public car park for the beach.
‘Debs would have a heart attack if I suggested— ’ His sentence petered out as he took in the scene before him, three police cars blocking the road, sirens flashing.
‘What on earth’s going on?’
A hot flush of fear suffused Edie’s body and she began to sweat despite the air-conditioning that was pelting out at full blast.
‘Laura,’ she gasped. ‘Maybe they’ve found Laura.’
TWENTY
Fatima
The hand lifted from her face and she managed to utter a small, pleading cry for help, more a whisper than a shout.
‘Where are you, Ehsan?’
Her stomach was churning with terror and she felt sick and faint, but she had Ehsan. It was precisely for protection that travelling with him had always been preferable to going it alone. Now she was glad of that choice.
‘Ehsan, please, I need you.’ She hated the begging note in her voice but could not eradicate it.
A snorting moan filled her right ear, vibrating deep inside it.
‘Oh, yes, Fatima, yes.’
Her assailant knew her name, knew who she was. The voice was familiar, unmistakeable. ‘I need you, too.’
The fear that heaved in Fatima’s bowels turned to disgust and horror. It was Ehsan. Her attacker was Ehsan.
Her blood ran icy cold. She was being assaulted not by some deranged stranger but her own brother-in-law.
All the events of the past, his eyes that had so often lingered too long upon her in the courtyard house, his lecherous look of the day before and countless other times that Fatima now understood she had ignored and pushed aside for fear of confronting them; his decision that they should say they were married – all flooded through her mind in a few short seconds.
Ehsan was still grunting and muttering in her ear, saying ‘I need you, too, and I want you.’
Fatima lay motionless, stunned. A hot, wet sensation, first on and in her ear and then on her face and cheeks and lips, brought bile rising in her throat.
‘It’s about time, isn’t it?’ Ehsan’s voice was gravelly, rumbling against her skin and making it crawl, and tinged with frantic urgency. ‘Married for days now. Oh yes, it’s time.’
He was pawing at the waistband of her trousers again, wrenching it down and she couldn’t stop him. He had her arms pinioned underneath her. She was whimpering in fear, but whether he noticed in his frenzied state or took it for encouragement, she couldn’t say. His hand was between her legs, forcing her thighs apart.
The horrendous realisation dawned on Fatima that she had brought this upon herself by agreeing to the husband and wife plan he had initiated.
Fatima’s breathing slowed at that thought, and as what Ehsan was doing registered in her frozen mind. Her lungs refused to work as horror seized hold of her and gripped her tight. All she could think of was the girls and how much she hoped they would not wake and witness what was happening. They h
ad seen so much already, in their three-and-a-half short years. To watch their mother’s rape would signify the end of any innocence they may, despite everything, have retained. And then her horror gave her strength and with all her might she sat up, gulping in air as she did so, shoving Ehsan off her, suppressing the urge to howl because of the proximity of the children.
‘Ehsan, what are you doing?’ Her voice was a hiss, released under pressure, desperate. ‘Have you lost your mind? Get off me.’
For a moment Ehsan relaxed his grip, taken off guard by her sudden action. But then something changed and Fatima felt the atmosphere cloud and darken to match the starless, moonless night. Ehsan took her upper arms in a vice-like grip and pushed her back down onto the ground.
‘You’re my wife now; a wife gives a husband what he wants.’ He wasn’t wearing any trousers, proof that he’d prepared for his assault. Fatima had seen in the brief moment when she’d sat up that Youssef was not with the group; he’d obviously decided to keep his distance. It was his absence that had given Ehsan his opportunity.
Fatima renewed her defence, squirming and fighting, wriggling and bucking beneath him. But it only seemed to fire him up and renew his strength and vigour, and his lust.
‘You’re not going hungry, are you?’ he leered at her, a drop of spittle landing on her eyebrow. He pinched her waist, thickened already even though she was not five months gone yet. She seemed to be putting on weight more quickly this time, despite the lack of food. Or maybe it was just that the difference between her swelling belly and her sunken torso and skinny arms became more marked as her calorie intake diminished. Ehsan seemed completely oblivious to what was really going on and in that moment Fatima realised she could not tell him. For a fleeting second she had been about to cry out to him that he was raping a pregnant woman, believing that this truth might bring him to his senses. But now she understood that knowing she was expecting would put him in an even more powerful position over her. He would know how much more vulnerable it made her and would be able to take advantage of that fact. The secret would have to remain with her.
He had her trousers down now, and her underwear and he entered her clumsily and began to thrust into her, his hands all over her breasts and stomach. She gave up and lay still, resigning herself to surrender, trying to pretend it wasn’t happening. Passive acceptance seemed to be the only way.
Ehsan groaned and grunted, flopping flat on top of her and then rolling to one side. Within moments he was snoring. Fatima lay still and inert, silently weeping, the tears rolling down each side of her face and soaking her black hair, released from its scarf during the battle. She could not imagine where the tears were coming from, what part of her body had the energy to produce them. But now they were here, she did not possess the strength to stop them.
Edie
‘Who’s Laura?’ Patrick asked as he applied the brakes. The way ahead was blocked by the police cars and the resort’s security barrier was firmly down.
Edie’s throat was tight and restricted, her heart racing. She could think of no other reason why the police should come to a peaceful holiday resort in the middle of an August day but to investigate a missing person. Or the discovery of a missing person … personal effects … a body … Could Laura have died between sending the text message and now? Edie had to stop her thoughts right there to prevent herself from becoming hysterical.
Taking no notice of Patrick’s question, she flung herself out of the still-moving vehicle and ran at full tilt towards the security hut where the guard stood looking officiously serious.
‘Tomas,’ she cried, ‘what the fuck is going on?’ She threw herself against his solid bulk and asked again, before he had time to give any response, ‘What’s happening?’
Tomas shrugged. ‘I don’t know anything, Edie.’
He did not meet her eye and shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other as he spoke.
‘I don’t believe you,’ she shouted, pounding her fists against his broad chest. ‘Tell me what’s going on. Is it Laura? Is it? You have to tell me the truth!’
The tears were cascading down her cheeks and she could almost feel them evaporating in the unrelenting heat of the sun at full strength. She was about to pummel Tomas again when she felt someone take her gently by the wrist and lead her away.
‘Calm down,’ said Patrick, in a soothing voice that should have been patronising but in fact was strangely comforting. ‘Wipe your face and tell me what on earth this is all about.’
He handed her a tissue and waited patiently for her sobs to ease. Quickly and amidst intermittent bouts of further crying, Edie explained about Laura to the quietly listening Patrick.
‘OK,’ he nodded, when she had reached the end of the story. ‘Why don’t you go back to the car and get a drink of water – you can bring a bottle for me, too. They’re on the back seat. And I’ll see what I can find out.’
Not entirely sure why, Edie followed his instructions. She found that the water was exactly what she needed and drank an entire bottle before returning with one for Patrick. By this time, he had had a chance to talk to Tomas and, with Tomas translating, with one of the lingering policemen. The conversations involved much nodding and casting of serious glances in the direction of the resort, the office, and then the cabanas, the restaurant and the beach.
‘I don’t think it’s got anything to do with Laura,’ he reassured her. ‘They’d want you involved if it were. The police aren’t saying anything and this guy,’ he gestured towards Tomas, the gate man, ‘doesn’t know much, just that they’ve been here for an hour or so already and they’ve got sniffer dogs in there.’
‘Dogs?’ Edie felt faint, her legs weak and her head swimming in the heat. Surely dogs indicated something really bad, something terrible.
‘It’s probably drugs, Edie. These aren’t the local police either, they’re from the capital. To be honest, I think that indicates a greater crime than a missing foreign girl when there’s absolutely no evidence at all of foul play.’
Edie reeled and almost fell over. So much for the sympathy and understanding; now Patrick was showing himself to be just the same as all the rest, dismissing her concerns, belittling the idea that Laura might be in trouble. And using the dreaded ‘e’ and ‘c’ words.
‘There have been a recent spate of drug wars in Kotor, shoot-outs in the streets between rival gangs, things like that,’ Patrick continued, seemingly oblivious to Edie’s trauma. ‘I think the government is very keen to stamp such occurrences out; it does the tourism industry, on which the country is so dependent, no good at all.’ Patrick started to walk towards the gate, then paused to wait for Edie. ‘We can go in, anyway. We just have to leave the car here for now.’
Automatically, she followed him, unable to think of anything else to do. Vuk had mentioned the problems with drugs. Maybe Patrick was right and that was the reason the police were there.
They made their way in silence along the eerily quiet road where the tarmac reached as far as the office before reverting to a sandy track that took them into the centre of the resort. They arrived at the restaurant and bar, where people were eating and drinking as normal, seemingly unperturbed by the police presence. Perhaps they didn’t even know about it; there was no sign of anything out of the ordinary here. No one seemed to be looking for Edie so maybe Patrick was right and the drama with the police didn’t have any connection to Laura.
A woman was waving and Edie recognised Debs, Patrick’s wife. She was sitting with the two children at one of the tables, plates piled high with food in front of them. Debs was wearing a floral bikini that, in Edie’s opinion, did her no favours, the sides of the pants pinching into her ample spare tyre. Poor woman, thought Edie. It must be awful to be fat.
‘Bye, Edie.’ She had forgotten Patrick was still by her side. ‘It looks like my lunch is waiting.’
The children were shouting: ‘Daddy, daddy, did you get the lilo for me? Did you buy me a blow-up whale?’ Edie’s eyes followed th
e voices and distractedly flicked to Debs, now tucking into her meal.
‘No need,’ she uttered under her breath. She felt a frisson of enjoyment at her unkindness; it was a sop to her own distress.
‘Come and see me if you’re worried about anything. I’ll help you if I can,’ Patrick called over his shoulder, his attention on his family now. ‘You know where I am.’
Edie felt momentarily guilty for her mean thoughts. Patrick was a kind man and Debs might have been better-looking, slimmer, in her youth. It wasn’t her fault she hadn’t aged well. Some people didn’t. Of course it went without saying that Edie would not be amongst that number, she would make damn sure of that, however much Botox and filler it took when the time came.
Patrick reached the table and embraced his wife, hugging her tight and kissing her forehead, then bending down to the children and bestowing kisses on them, too. He sat down next to Debs, his hand on her knee, his focus on her, thanking her for ordering the lunch, apologising for the length of his absence.
A strange sensation of deflation overcame Edie. He seemed to really love them all, despite his wife being old and plain. He didn’t seem to find his kids demanding or annoying. The togetherness and intimacy that Patrick seemed to have with his family was exactly what she so desperately craved for herself. She had had it with Laura when they were children but as adults – well, of course a sister, even a twin, isn’t enough anymore. Everyone wants a mate, a partner, a significant other, to use a phrase Edie hated. Vuk was the person she had set her sights on for that – and what an attractive couple they were, how good they looked together. But what if that wasn’t enough, either? What if Vuk wasn’t the person she had hoped he was, had decided he was when, in all truth, she barely knew him. What would she do then?