Shattered Lives

by Marian Phair

  “Hold on you miserable old git.” Jimmy called after Charlie and draining his coffee cup, he snatched up his note pad. “Catch you later ladies,” he said, winking at Amie. He made his way to the door behind the waddling Charlie. “Yeah, see yer darlin’s,” said Charlie, shouting back over his shoulder.

  The two women sat in silence for a few moments, sipping their coffee.

  “Where is Peter?” Amie asked Melissa, topping up her coffee mug.

  “He is lying down, because it is siesta time for him. Every day at noon until two o’clock, he has a nap. God, I could do with a drink, something stronger than coffee, would you care to join me?” Melissa laughed out loud at Amie’s raised eyebrows.

  “No thank you,” said Amie, “I am not much of a drinker and anyway, it may harm my baby.”

  “Oh, whatever,” said Melissa making her way across the room to the well stocked bar, where she poured herself a large drink, before heading back to the table on unsteady legs. “Now, about your duties,” she said, “you will have a virtually free reign, but I do insist Peter has his nap at the same time every day, and always make sure he has sun block on when he goes outside. Also, make sure he has plenty of fluids and by- the -way, you know not to drink the tap water don’t you?”

  “Yes, there is a notice on the wall in my apartment.” said Amie, as she

  finished her coffee and set the mug on the tray, wondering how she could broach the subject of her wages without appearing crass. She need not have worried. Melissa reached for her cigarettes and flipping the top of her lighter, she lit the cigarette and inhaled deeply, drawing the smoke into her lungs, then exhaling, head tilted back, she blew a perfect smoke ring. She had another drink from her glass, then said, “The job pays one hundred pounds per week, and it will be up to you to change your currency according to your needs. You will also receive a small clothing allowance of fifty pounds a month, and anything else you require you will have to provide for yourself, and of course you will be responsible for your own insurance stamp. I hope these arrangements are agreeable to you?” she said looking at Amie, and waiting for an answer.

  One hundred pounds a week was a small fortune to Amie who could not remember seeing one hundred pounds in a lump sum in her whole life.

  “Very much so, thank you,” she said politely, and then asked, “Are there any places of interest around here, parks or the like, that Peter might enjoy?.” Amie thought Peter might overcome his shyness quicker if he was in a different environment with her, where he could relax and enjoy himself.

  Melissa took a long drink from her glass before saying, “Well, there is a small zoo in La Pineda, which is a couple of miles down the road you passed through it on your way here, and then there’s the beach of course. Port Aventura is a place I keep promising to take him to, but my busy schedule has not allowed me the time yet. We are unable to film today and tomorrow due to technical problems.”

  She stubbed out her cigarette in the ashtray, her hand catching Charlie’s cigar stub and scattering ash across the table’s polished surface. Melissa bent her head, and blew at the ash dispersing it.

  “Where was I, oh yes, technical problems? You may have gathered that from listening to Charlie and Jimmy. What a pair.”

  “What is Port Aventura?” Amie asked, as Melissa made for the bar again more than a little unsteady on her feet.

  “Port Aventura is a theme and water park not far from here. There are some leaflets here somewhere,” said Melissa, going over to the sideboard and rummaging in one of its drawers. Finding what she was looking for, she dropped them onto the table in front of Amie. “Port Aventura Park is here,” she said, leaning over Amie’s shoulder, indicating the spot on the map with a polished finger nail..

  Melissa reeked of a mixture of alcohol and cheap perfume, mingled with cigarette smoke. Amie, trying not to gag, held her breath until Melissa moved away from her. Picking up the leaflets, Amie now realised she had the ammunition to win Peter’s trust, hoping Port Aventura would do the trick.

  “When would you like me to take up my duties Miss Proctor?,” she asked, looking at Melissa, and noticing her eyes were looking past her, as if seeing double images of her.

  “Call me Mel, she said, everyone else does, and you can start tomorrow morning at eight o’clock sharp. You can make Peter his breakfast and help him to get dressed.”

  Melissa stood swaying slightly, her eyes not focusing. Amie mentally counted the drinks she had seen Melissa down since her arrival, and aside from the hip flask, she made it four. She remembered that Melissa had been drinking out on the patio when she arrived. Had she been drinking all day?

  Amie felt the pangs of hunger, and glancing at her wristwatch, she was surprised to see it was three pm. She had not eaten since those two biscuits that morning in her lodgings in Ireland. It seemed so far removed from her now as she felt at home already, and could not wait to take up her position here and enjoy the sights.

  “I’m sorry Mel, but I don’t know the lay-out of the house yet, or how to get to Peter’s room.” Melissa held her empty glass out to Amie.

  “Fix me another ‘G’ and ‘T’ and I will take you on a guided tour,” Melissa said, her speech slurring as she leant against the table for support.

  “I’m sorry,” Amie said apologetically, “But I don’t know what is in a ‘G’ and ‘T’.”

  “Its Gin and tonic water,” Melissa said, explaining the mix to Amie,

  “But I want more ‘G’ than ‘T’, comprendo?” she added sarcastically.

  Yes I do ‘comprendo’ Amie thought resentfully, and I am neither stupid nor your servant. She wondered if it was wise to pour Melissa another drink considering the state she was already in. What the hell, it was her liver and her business Amie thought, pouring a large gin and tonic into the glass and handing it to Melissa.

  Leaving the dining room, Melissa took on the roll of a tourist guide, mimicking a circus Ringmaster’s manner of speech as she declared, “Milord’s, ladies, and gentlemen, on your right ish a schmall library, and a on your left ish the kitchen.” Flinging out her arm she indicated the rooms, slopping her drink over her fingers in the process, and hiccupping loudly.

  Then ‘Milord’s’ became “Me lads, ladies ‘n’ gen’lemen, you have before you a lift.” Melissa jabbed at the button to open its doors, and followed by Amie, staggered inside.

  “Presh number free,” she ordered Amie, as she propped herself up against the side of the lift, her speech becoming even more slurred. Amie pressed the button, and the lift rose stopping on three with a slight judder. Staggering out, Melissa spilt more of her drink over her fingers, and with a loud ‘whoops a daisy,’ she handed her glass to Amie.

  “Hole thish, ‘n’ don’ schpill it, and don’ drink it.” she said, wagging a finger in Amie’s face. Melissa stood swaying on her sandaled feet, and then putting her fingers into her mouth sucked on them noisily. “Mush’nt waste any,” she giggled drunkenly at Amie, and then put her finger to her lips to make a ‘shush’. Melissa tried to retrieve her glass from Amie’s hand but her legs buckled under her and with a final, ‘me lads, I feel pisshed,’ she passed out cold on the tiled floor. Amie might have found the situation funny if it had not been so pathetic.

  A door opened and a female’s head appeared round it, the eyes widening when she saw the body on the floor.

  “Se ha producido un accidente, Haga el favor de llamar a un medico!”

  Millie came out of the room; a wide-eyed Peter hitched on one hip.

  Setting Peter down inside the doorway, she bent down to examine Melissa and then gave Amie a questioning look. “Borracho?” she asked, and then realising Amie did not understand her she said, “Drunk?”

  “Very much so,” said Amie nodding, “I’m afraid she has been drinking since I arrived this morning.”

  Millie reached for the in-house telephone and swiftly dialed a number, saying, “Don’t worry I will get Enrico, and he will carry her to bed to sleep it off. She will ha
ve a mother of a headache when she wakes up.”

  Later, having showered and changed, Amie sat with Millie and Peter in the dining room. They had just finished their meal when Charlie and Jimmy joined them, appearing to have resolved their earlier differences. Charlie sat down beside her, smiling at Millie, and tickling Peter under the chin.

  “‘Ello darlin’,” Charlie addressed Amie, “‘Ow’s it goin,’ you settlin’ in alright?”

  “I haven’t found my feet yet Mr. Makepeace, and it has been a most unusual day to say the least.” Amie replied wondering what tomorrow might bring.

  “Call me Charlie as we use first names around ‘ere,” he said, taking an apple from the bowl of fruit and biting into it noisily.

  “‘Ow’s it goin’ wiv Mel?” he asked her, chomping on his apple, “she can be a bit ‘ov a cow at times, but ‘er ‘earts in the right place. Where is she any ‘ow?” he asked. He reached out to Peter ruffling the boy’s hair, and patting him on the head fondly.

  “She is resting, for a while,” said Amie, being discreet.

  Charlie looked across at Millie, and she raised her eyebrows at him. Amie saw the look that passed between them, and knew this was not the first time that Melissa had been drunk.

  “She ain’t bleedin’ rat-arsed again, is she?” said Charlie, directing his question at Millie, who just raised her eyebrows again, and gave a sidelong glance in Peter’s direction.

  Millie took a banana from the fruit bowl and peeled its skin, before handing it to Peter. Charlie just shook his head and finished off his apple in two bites. “RESTIN!’ ….nice one,” he laughed, patting Amie on the thigh.

  Jimmy came over to the table carrying a plate of paella, and settled himself down opposite Charlie. He gave Amie a cheeky wink.

  “Well, what do you think of the place then, some set up eh?” he said, shoveling a forkful of paella into his mouth, his attention on the plate of food before him.

  “I have not had a good look round yet Jimmy,” said Amie, but I’m sure I will be very happy here, and from what I have seen on the drive up, it is a beautiful place to live. How long will they be filming at this particular location? I could stay forever in Rojo Tejado, and never get tired of the view.”

  “Oh, for around another six months at least,” said Jimmy, “but Melissa will not be here that long, as her character gets killed off before the end of the film.” Finishing his meal, he pushed his plate away and eased back in his chair rubbing his stomach and letting out a loud belch, causing Peter to laugh at him.

  My baby could be born here thought Amie, if the filming of Melissa’s part went on long enough. Realising her baby would be Spanish if that were to happen, she sat daydreaming, wondering what kind of a life they would have if they lived here in Costa Dorado.

  CHAPTER SIX

  At eight the following morning, a bleary eyed Melissa, wearing a crumpled dressing gown, her uncombed hair sticking out in spikes around her makeup smeared face, opened the door to Amie and yawning loudly, she turned without speaking, leaving the door open for Amie to enter.

  A tousled haired Peter, still in his pyjamas’, sat watching cartoons on the huge television set. With Amie following, Melissa headed for the kitchen giving instructions as she went, “the kitchen’s to your right and the bathroom is through the door on the left of it. You can make Peter a boiled egg for his breakfast today, and he likes bread ‘soldiers’ to dip in his egg, so you will need to get the top off it for him, and see that he doesn’t get egg shell everywhere.” So much for my free reign, Amie thought heading towards the kitchen.

  The kitchen, like her apartment, had a small refridgerator, but it also had a large stainless steel sink and a large cupboard, with the usual pots and pans, cutlery and china. Some set up this Rojo Tejado Amie mused, wondering why the owner would employ a chef and kitchen staff. Then remembering there were separate bedrooms in the house, like the ones that Charlie and Jimmy were occupying, she imagined the owner must do a lot of entertaining when he was in residence. The two apartments were used solely by his mother and himself, affording them total privacy from any guests they may have staying. It was pure speculation of course.

  Amie took a small saucepan from the cupboard adding some water and an egg from the Fridge. She placed it on the hob to boil, and then buttered a slice of bread, cutting it into small ‘fingers’ which she placed on his plate around his egg cup. Finding some fresh orange juice in the Fridge, she poured out a glass and set it on the tray with the food. When all was ready, she took it into the dining room. There was no sign of Melissa, but she could hear the shower running. Seating Peter at the small dining table, she removed the top of his egg for him, scooped out the bit inside, fed it to him and then gave him the spoon. She sat in silence, watching the cartoons on the television, whilst he ate his breakfast.

  Melissa appeared from the bathroom, dressed in a white strapless dress, her peroxide hair sleeked back into a bun, carefully applied makeup on her face. “Would you be a darling and make us both a cup of coffee?” she asked.

  When Amie rose from her seat, Melissa followed her into the kitchen taking a drinking glass from the cupboard, which she filled it with bottled water from the Fridge, before popping two Alka Seltzer tablets into it, and swallowing it down whilst the tablets were still fizzing. With a grimace, she left the empty glass in the sink, and then checked the contents of the food cupboard. “I take mine black with one sugar,” she told Amie, leaving her to make the coffee.

  When Amie returned a few minutes later, carrying two mugs of coffee, Melissa was talking to someone on the telephone.

  “Oh, don’t worry couchie, mamma will make it up to you later.” she purred into the phone. Tucking the phone between her chin and her shoulder, she reached forward and withdrew a cigarette from its packet on the side table, lit it and exhaled a ring of smoke before continuing her conversation.

  “Yes we start filming tomorrow,” she said, looking up and seeing Amie, Melissa nodded her head towards the side table, where Amie placed a coaster under the mug of coffee, and set it down on the table. Before she could go and check on Peter, Melissa signaled to her, making a pouring motion with one hand and drawing a letter ‘G’ and ‘T’ in the air. She pointed to the drinks cabinet, while she listened to the person on the other end of the line. Using a sharp tone of voice she said into the phone, “No, it’s my way, or no way!” Amie poured out a small gin and tonic, and sneaking a glance at her wristwatch as she did so, saw it was still only nine o’clock in the morning. If her employer was not an alcoholic, she was the next thing to one Amie realised, as she came over to Melissa with her drink.

  Melissa, covering the mouthpiece with her hand and whispering to Amie said, “The hair of the dog that bit me will make me feel better.” Removing her hand, she purred once more into the telephone, “Poor couchie, mamma wov’s you, see you later,” and making a kissing sound she hung up. Melissa took her gin and tonic over to the dining table, sipping from the glass as she went, ignoring the mug of coffee she had requested earlier.

  Peter, having finished his breakfast sat fidgeting in his chair, waiting for permission to leave the table, dried egg yolk on his chin and down the front of his pyjamas’.

  “Just look at the state of you!” Melissa shouted into his face, and glaring at him. “Three years old and you can’t eat a bloody egg without getting it all over yourself.” She reached out to grab his arm, and Peter flinched and tried to pull away from her. Incensed, Melissa slapped him hard across the back of his head, causing tears to well up in his eyes, and run silently down his cheeks. Shocked, Amie stood back unable to believe what she was seeing.

  “How dare you try to pull away from me, you scrawny little bastard!” Melissa yelled at the terrified boy tipping Peter off the chair in her rage. Yanking the boy roughly to his feet, she shoved him towards the bathroom, screaming, “Get in there and clean yourself up.”

  The terrified boy ran sobbing into the bathroom, urine staining his pyjamas as he went. Pus
hing past Melissa, who stood fuming with rage; Amie hurried into the bathroom after the sobbing child, locking the door behind her. She knelt and took him in her arms, holding his little shaking body to her, and making soothing noises until his sobs subsided. She gently removed his dirty wet pyjamas, noticing as she did so several ugly looking bruises on his little arms and buttocks. Hiding her shocked face from him, she ran a bath for him, and tested its warmth with her elbow first to make sure it was the right temperature for him. She added lots of bubble bath and lifting him up, eased him gently into the bath water. Amie swirled the foam around with her hand, producing lots of bubbles, and encouraging Peter to play with them. Gradually, as the tension left his little body, she blew a big bubble at him, and he managed to smile at her, as it burst against his nose. Amie made a silent promise to the boy, come what may, she would do her best to keep him from getting hurt again. No wonder the child was quiet and withdrawn, she thought, he was scared to death of his mother.

  The handle of the bathroom door rattled as Melissa tried to enter the room. Peter looked up startled, his blue eyes glued to the door in fear.

  “It’s alright poppet, I won’t let anyone hurt you, you can trust me,” Amie reassured him speaking softly to him, and sleeking back his wet hair with her hand. The door of the apartment closed with a loud bang, making them both jump. Amie knew Melissa had left and let out a big sigh of relief.

  After toweling Peter dry, she sprinkled talcum powder over his body, gently rubbing it in, avoiding putting pressure on his bruises. Peter had not spoken a single word to Amie since her arrival. When she asked him where his clothes were kept he took her hand in silence and tugged at it, drawing her to a small room across from the kitchen. The room held a single bed, a chest of drawers and a wardrobe and releasing Amie’s hand, Peter opened one of the drawers and she could see it contained underpants and socks. He picked out a pair of underpants, handing them to her. There was something strange about the room but she could not put her finger on it, and it niggled away at the back of her mind as she knelt down to help him on with his pants. He placed his little hands trustingly on her shoulders to help him keep his balance. Standing on one leg, as Amie pulled the pants over his foot and swiftly hopping onto the other leg, putting his foot through the hole she held out for him. Amie dressed him in a pair of khaki shorts and a red and white chequered shirt, encasing his feet in open sandals.