Shattered Lives

by Marian Phair

  She was re-arranging the flowers in the hall, when suddenly the telephone beside her rang, startling her out of her reverie. Lifting the receiver, she used the usual Spanish greeting, “Olla.”

  “Hello,” a deep male voice said in her ear, “I would like to speak to my wife Melissa.” The voice was unmistakably that of Ralph Newman. Stunned, Amie collapsed onto the wooden chair beside her, the telephone falling from her hand dangling down on its cord. The disembodied voice saying, “Hello, hello, can you hear me?” floated up at her.

  Just then Charlie appeared from the dining room. Amie sat staring straight ahead of her, the eyes in her deathly pale face, seeing nothing, her whole body was trembling.

  Charlie hurried to her side a look of concern on his face. He took one look at the dangling telephone, then at Amie and realised she’d had a shock of some kind. He picked the receiver up by its cord and placed it to his ear, hearing the dialing tone, he hung up.

  “Wot’s the matter gel, you ‘ad some bad news or some fink?” he asked, deeply concerned for her well being. He bent over Amie, taking her trembling hands into his own, “Wot’s upset yer?” Still she sat, seeing nothing, not responding to his questions.

  Charlie gently pulled her to her feet and supporting her weight, he led her into the dining room. He helped her into the one armchair the room contained, and then disappeared through the door beside it into the kitchen, reappearing a few minutes later with a mug of hot coffee.

  Going over to the bar, he poured a liberal amount of Brandy into the mug, before placing it into her hands and helping her to hold it “Come on darlin,’ take a sip for yer ole Uncle Charlie.” He tried to persuade her to drink saying, “get some ov’ this dahn yer neck, it’ll ‘elp yer ter feel better.”

  He held the mug up to her lips. Still staring off into space, she obeyed him like a child. She took a sip from the mug; the scalding hot liquid burnt her mouth, jolting her back to reality. Amie let out a sob and then the tears started to pour down her face. The bewildered Charlie placed the mug on the floor beside the chair and knelt before her, putting his arms around the sobbing girl. He held her close, his heart going out to her in her anguish.

  He did not know how long he knelt there, comforting her, but eventually her sobs subsided, as she cried herself out. Charlie retrieved the mug and placed it into her hands ordering her to drink it all. Going over to the dining table he removed one of the chairs. Carrying it over to where she was sitting, he straddled it and sat quietly beside her, while she drank the brandy-laced coffee. He scanned her face, waiting, letting her pull herself together. She looked at him, trying to muster a smile of thanks, as she handed him the empty mug. Her eyes all red and swollen from crying, had lost their sparkle, and they now looked dull and lifeless.

  “Oh Charlie, Help me, please help me, I don’t know what to do!” she pleaded with him. He was baffled; she had not told him what was wrong.

  “Ow can I ‘elp yer darlin’? Wot ‘appened ter get yer in this state?” he asked.

  “It was HIM, Charlie,” she said, “I recognised his voice.”

  “Who’s ‘im?” said Charlie giving her a puzzled look.

  “My baby’s father, Ralph Newman,” she told him.

  “Bleedin’ ‘ell!” Charlie exclaimed, it was his turn to be shocked.

  “Yer mean ter tell me, Mel’s ole man is the favver ‘ov yer nipper?”

  “I didn’t know until now Charlie, I didn’t even know he was married when he courted me.”

  Amie started at the beginning and told him everything about her past life. “No one has ever enquired who the father of my baby was.” she murmured, “my grandmother knew of course. I heard Melissa referring to her husband as Joe. How could I have known they were one and the same man?”

  “Yeh, Mel never liked the name Ralph, she always used his second name, Joseph, wot a bleedin’ bastard,” Charlie said, his face reddening in his anger.

  “I can’t stay here now Charlie I have to get away,” said Amie, gripping Charlie’s arm as another thought occurred to her, causing fresh panic to break out.

  “Oh, poor Peter, what is to become of all this mess now?” She felt the tears rising up again and held them in check; suddenly she knew what she had to do. Rising to her feet she put her arms around Charlie and gave him a hug.

  “I must leave, Charlie, before Melissa gets back, I want you to explain what happened to Millie for me, tell her to look out for Peter, but no one else must know. Please Charlie, I beg of you, don’t let Melissa know,” Amie fought to keep her emotions under control, “make up some excuse for me leaving so abruptly, but promise not to tell Melissa, the real reason.”

  “But yer got nowhere ter go gel.” he reminded her.

  “I will go back to Ireland Charlie, there are homes for people like me, it was foolish of me to think things could be otherwise.” Her life must have been all mapped out at birth she thought, for tears followed her every smile.

  “Yer can’t get a flight out ov ‘ere nah, Reus airport closes its commercial flights at the end of October, or so ‘iv bin told.” he informed her, “So that’s out ov the question. Fink abaht it, yer safe ‘ere, ‘especially in yer condition.”

  “Charlie, did you not hear what I have just told you? don’t you realise Peter will be my baby’s half brother!” Amie was becoming hysterical.

  “Gordon Bennett, yer right, give me a minute ter gav’ver me faughts,” he told her.

  Then an idea occurred to him, as to how he could help his friend with her problem, but if he could pull it off, they would have to be quick.

  “Go pack yer fings an’ come back ter the dining room, don’t ’ang abaht gel, if me plan works, we ’ave ter get a move on.” Charlie told her, “if not, no ’arms done, yer just ’ave ter unpack.” Charlie went to the telephone, ran his hand down the small chart pinned to the wall, checked a number and swiftly dialed it.

  Fifteen minutes later Amie was back downstairs and leaving her luggage in the hall, she went into the dining room. Charlie grinned when she came in, “I can get yer ter Ireland, fing is we ‘ave ter leave nah,” he told her.

  “I’ve ‘ad a word wiv Sidney, ‘e will take yer in the private plane, ‘e is just getting’ clearance, okay darlin?” Charlie placed a hand under her chin, raising her face up to his, “keep yer chin up gel, it’ll be okay, you’ll see.”

  “How will we get to the airport Charlie, Melissa is using the limousine. Did you order a taxi?.”

  “Nah gel, too risky,” he answered, “I’ll use Jimmy’s contraption, its round the back, ‘e won’t mind. You wait ‘ere I’ll get things sorted, I won’t be a tick, and we’ll soon be on our way.” Charlie left her there while he went to fetch Jimmy’s motorbike and sidecar.

  Amie went over to the sideboard and rummaged through its drawers, looking for a pen and something to write on. She found a brown crayon and an envelope containing a receipt for paint, removing the receipt, she slit the envelope down its sides and opening it out to its fullest extent, she swiftly wrote.

  Dear Millie.

  When you read this I will have left Costa Dorado. Please take care of Peter for me, tell him nannies can’t always be around. Tell him I will always love him, and I will never forget him. Give him a big hug and a kiss from me. I will find a way to keep in touch with both you and Charlie. You are the only friends I have apart from the Nesbitt’s. I can’t go anywhere near them, at least not until after the baby is born. So I guess that makes you and Charlie my only friends. Charlie will tell you everything. Stay well and happy. Fondest love to you and to Sean. Forever your friend. Amie, xx

  Amie put the note into her pocket just as Charlie came into the room, “you ready darlin’?” He asked. Full of sadness at having to leave, Amie just nodded her head and wondered what else life had in store for her and her baby.

  Outside she found Charlie had already strapped her old suitcase to the pillion seat and he helped her into the sidecar.

  “Will yer be able ter ‘old t
his ‘oldall on yer lap, I’ve got no way ‘ov fixing it to the bike?” He handed her the hold all containing the baby’s things. Amie took the bag from him and held it on her lap, just as he had asked of her. Throwing his leg over the saddle, Charlie settled his ample frame, then turned the key in the ignition and kick-started the engine into life. With a squeeze of his right hand he opened up the throttle, adjusted the clutch with his left, and they were on their way. Amie took a swift look back over her shoulder at La Casa Rojo Tejado, fixing its image in her mind, as they went through the big iron gates.

  Charlie put her luggage onto the plane, and turned to give her a hug before helping her on board.

  “Take care ov yer self gel,” he told her, tears welling up in his eyes. “Let’s know when yer safe eh?, ‘ave yer enough cash on yer?, do yer need any fink?.” Question, followed question, without waiting for an answer.

  “I will be alright Charlie,” Amie told him, “I will never forget you my friend, I don’t know how to thank you for the kindness you have shown me, I owe you a great debt.”

  “Fink nuffink ‘ov it, it’s wot mate’s are for,” said Charlie, giving her a final hug and kissing her cheeks. Amie removed the note from her pocket and pressed it into his hand “Give this to Millie for me, when no one’s around,” she said, choking back her tears. It felt as if someone had reached into her chest to rip out her heart.

  “Gawd bless yer, an’ the little nipper.” Charlie settled her on board the light aircraft. He leant over the back of the pilot’s seat and patted Sidney on the shoulder. “Look after ‘er Sid, she’s precious cargo.

  Amie looked out of the window as the plane taxied down the runway, craning her neck to look back at him. Charlie stood on the tarmac, watching the plane until it was out of sight.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Melissa returned from Barcelona to an empty house. Nothing had gone right for her that day. Having spent more than two hours trudging from shop to shop trying to find what she wanted, with Peter complaining his legs ached and he was hungry. He cried when she berated him, for his whining.

  Dragging him into the nearest café, Melissa dumped her packages on the floor and plonked Peter onto a chair.

  The couple sitting at the next table stared at her as if she was an alien from another planet. Melissa poked her tongue out at them. The women turned their heads away, one with a look of disgust on her face.

  Then, to top matters off, a waitress, looking at them, instead of where she was going, tripped over the packages, spilling fruit juice over Melissa’s new suit.

  The girl looked mortified, and quickly ran over to the counter and grabbed a box of tissues. Melissa grabbed a tissue from the box, dabbing at the red stain that was slowly spreading across her lap, but she was unable to prevent it from going through her clothes.

  “You stupid bloody bitch,” she yelled at the frightened girl, “DO you realise how much this suit cost, WELL DO YOU?” She screamed at her. There was a deathly hush in the café; all eyes were on Melissa and the waitress.

  “I’ll tell you how much it cost, you stupid bitch, more money than you could earn in a bloody year waiting on tables, THAT’S how much!” The waitress fled sobbing, bumping into tables in her haste to get away.

  The manager came over to her table, wringing his hands together, offering his apology, having recognised Melissa. He told her to order anything she wanted on the house.

  “I will tell you what I want,” Melissa told him, as he stood wringing his hands, “HER BLOODY NOTICE!”

  Back at La Casa Rojo Tejado in a foul mood, Melissa dumped her packages on the dining room table and made Peter sit in the armchair.

  “You stay here, you have caused enough trouble today,” she ordered Peter.

  Melissa went in search of Amie. Peter, ignoring his mother and wanting to be with Amie, trailed after her.

  Melissa entered Amie’s apartment without knocking. She stood in the small hallway and called out to her, getting no answer. Damn, where was the girl, she was paying her to look after Peter, she had no right to go off out without first seeking her permission. Thinking she may be sleeping and had not heard her calling out, Melissa went into the bedroom. The bed was made and everything was neat and tidy, nothing left lying around, unlike her own rooms. She thought it odd there was no nightdress on the bed, any hairbrush, or cosmetics, on the units. She quickly checked the other rooms and there was nothing to indicate anyone was living there. Acting on impulse, she went back into the bedroom and flung open the wardrobe doors. The shelves were bare, nothing but empty hangers on the rails. Amie had gone, but why had she gone and where?

  Turning round, Melissa almost fell over Peter, who realising that Amie had left him, started to cry. Melissa found her quick temper rising, shouting,

  “Get from under my bloody feet; I thought I told you to stay downstairs.”

  She took the lift up to her suite and sat Peter at the table with a glass of milk and a biscuit.

  “Have this,” she said, “then get out your book and crayons, I don’t want to hear another peep out of you today, is that understood? and stop your damn sniveling.” She tore a tissue from the box on the table and held it to his face. “Here, blow your nose, and stop crying or I will send you to your room.” Peter blew snot into the tissue she held to his nose.

  Melissa had no idea, why Dr Sam had insisted she take Amie on, as nanny to Peter. Knowing Dr Sam, she knew he would have a good reason; after all he was paying her to employ Amie. She had better phone him and put him in the picture. Melissa went to the telephone and dialed Dr Sam’s number.

  After telling him Amie had gone without leaving a note, or explanation, she hung up.

  Going into her bedroom she peeled of her soiled suit and dumped it in the laundry bin. The fruit stain had gone through the fabric of her suit into her underwear. Cursing the girl under her breath, she pulled off her panties, unhooked her bra, and threw them on top of the suit. She went to her wardrobe and took out her white sundress. Not bothering with underwear, she slipped it over her head and pulled up the zipper, then shoved her bare feet into her sandals. Melissa stood gazing at her reflection in the mirror as she brushed her hair and applied fresh lipstick.

  Back in the lounge, she poured a large Gin and Tonic into a crystal tumbler and then lit a cigarette, drawing the smoke deep into her lungs, she slowly exhaled. She flopped into the big armchair, dangling her legs over its arm, sipping at her drink. She closed her eyes, going over the day in her mind.

  An image of Enrico, as she had seen him that morning, when she had gone to his flat above the garage to tell him his schedule for the day, came into her mind. She had knocked at his door and entered, calling out to him. She could hear him in the shower, humming to himself. He had not heard her over the running water. Not in any hurry, she had sat down on the only chair in the room, to wait for him to finish his shower, idly leafing through a magazine on motorbikes. Enrico came into the room, water glistening off his naked body, his face buried in a towel as he rubbed at his hair.

  Melissa had never seen him out of uniform and gasped out her delight at his muscular torso. He obviously worked hard at keeping himself in shape. His limp penis hung halfway down his hairy thigh, swaying, as he padded across the floor.

  Suddenly aware of her presence, he had quickly wrapped the towel around his waist, embarrassed at finding himself in that situation. She told him the reason for her visit and left him to get dressed.

  Melissa noticed him looking at her through the driver’s mirror, during the fifty mile drive to Barcelona. Once or twice their eyes met, and she thought she saw a hint of laughter in his, before he turned his concentration back on the road.

  The business in the café had spoilt the day for her and now she had the added problem of the bloody nanny taking off to God knows where! Rising from her chair, she poured another drink, downing it in two swallows.

  The clock on the mantelpiece said seven thirty, time to settle Peter down for the night. With no nanny an
d no Millie, she would have to see to the boy herself. Melissa went with Peter to the bathroom, and sat on the edge of the bathtub watching him, while he brushed his teeth. She could see so much of her husband in the boy. Damn the man!, he should be here with them, not half-way round the world. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve.

  In his room she helped him into his pyjamas, and tucked him up in bed. “Be a good boy and go to sleep,” she said, “Santa Claus will bring you some presents soon if you are good and do as mummy tells you. Tomorrow night you will have to hang up your stocking where Santa can see it, so he can put new toys in it for you.” Melissa kissed his brow. That was as close to ‘motherhood’ as she had come, in all of Peter’s three years.

  Downstairs, Melissa wandered into the dining room, intending to wrap the gifts she had purchased, ready to be placed with the others under the tree. She would give Amie’s gift to Millie now and write on the gift tag ‘from Peter,’ but, first things first, she poured herself a drink, taking it over to the table.

  She fetched the scissors from the sideboard drawer and removed the band from the roll of Christmas wrapping paper, then realised she did not have any sellotape. “Damn it!” she said out loud, “Will nothing go right for me today.”

  Melissa rummaged through the cupboards, but could not find any tape. Maybe Enrico had some she could borrow. She left the house and made her way round the back, towards the garage.

  His flat was in darkness, but she saw a light on in the garage. Through its half-open door, she could see Enrico. His back towards her, he was leaning over the bonnet of the limousine, looking at a magazine, a bucket of soapy water at his feet. Obviously he had been cleaning the vehicle.

  In her sandaled feet, he did not hear her approach him. Melissa peered over Enrico’s shoulder to see he was studying a pornographic magazine. His fly undone, he held his huge erect penis in one hand, slowly moving his hand up and down its shaft, as he pleasured himself. Instantly turned on by this, Melissa found she was getting very moist. Her eyes never leaving his moving hand, she reached round and touched his penis. She thought for a moment he was going to have a heart attack, he was so startled by her presence.