Of That Day and Hour: A psychological thriller

by Anthony O'Brien

  “No, no it’s okay.” He can see the horror of realizing what she just said in her eyes. “I know you didn’t.” He sighs. “Your right. I’ve had a hunch for a while that I should see them sooner rather than later.”

  “It’s the right thing to do.” She’s relieved, he hasn’t taken offense.

  “It is.” She doesn’t want him to go, and pauses before she continues. “You can arrange a flight out tomorrow. Spend some time with them; they’ll be missing you.”

  “Will you come with me?”

  “No. It’s your time Jeff. I can’t come in between, they would only resent me.”

  Al and his new companion pass the table without a single glance in their direction. Minutes later the sound of the Harley draws the eye to the girl hoisting herself up and sitting astride as pillion. Al clunks the bike into gear, and cruises out onto the highway. He’s not going to be bothering Eve whilst Jeff’s away.

  It’s late in the evening and Eve takes a shower. Jeff’s outside watching the age old battle of positive and negative ions. Streaks of light dance in the distant skies. He holds in his hand a miniature music box. Slowly he turns the fragile handle listening to the fairy tale sound. Eve can hear the music as she approaches; pausing, she leans against the door. A poetic moment of sadness made even more so, as Jeff looks out across the desert towards the approaching storm. Wearing only a towel Eve steps out onto the porch, bare feet on timber; a childlike excitement as she creeps up on him.

  “What you got there, honey?”

  “A music box.” He displays it in his hand.

  “Let me see.” Eve holds her hand out and Jeff passes it to her. A purple and pink fairy tale castle; two princesses and one knight. “A present from your daughters?”

  “Yes, I was their knight in shining armor.” He feels a deep sadness. “They gave it to me. It was custom painted for my birthday. For years I kept it in my office; a token of their love.”

  “And then I came along?” She enquires, curious.

  “You know it wasn’t like that. I love you.”

  “Enough to stay here?”

  “Of course.”

  “So you’re staying?”

  “Yeah.” He’s surprised she has to ask.

  “As long as you don’t leave?” Why does she feel so insecure?

  “I promise, I’ll never leave you.”

  “I’ll hold you to that.” Eve turns the handle “It’s a beautiful sound.” She hands it back to Jeff. “A wonderful gift, you must be proud of them.”

  “I am.” He wonders, Eve’s not mentioned children. “Would you like to be a mom?”

  “You offering?” This isn’t like Jeff.

  “I’m asking.”

  “Yeah, maybe. Is a life wasted for a woman if she doesn’t have children of her own?”

  “No.” He frowns. “That’s like saying a woman’s sole purpose is the continuation of the species.”

  “I agree, but however you look at it, my body is designed to bring children into the world. My breasts weren’t created for you alone to suckle on, were they?”

  “In my eyes, yes.”

  “Get out of it.” She loves the attention. “Here, have a beer.”

  The storm’s drawing ever closer. Whipping wisps of sand can be seen, swirling dark shadows in the desert. The old timber weathervane starts to creak and groan.

  “Do you feel rain?” He’s sure he just felt a spot.

  “Yeah, best we get in.”

  “Do you think this place would hold together in a bad storm?”

  “Has done so far.”

  Eve brings down a large sheepskin rug and a blanket to wrap around their shoulders. They settle in front of the fire. The crackle and occasional pop adds to the ambiance, warm and secure as the storm rages towards them. The rain has turned to lashings, beating against the windows and timbers of the building. This makes the moment more precious for two people, sheltering together, so in love. Later, in passionate embrace, their skin glistens in the flames.

  Jeff looks up at the music box sitting on the side; considers his feelings of betrayal. His daughters' knight in shining armor has become the dragon that other knights wish to slay. Eve follows his eyes. The moment is bittersweet for her, for she holds the darkest secret of all.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  The heat ripples at Pueblo Memorial Airport. Eve stands beside her beloved Camaro, studying the crazy-paved baked tarmac of the car park. Waiting for the plane carrying Jeff to take off. The distant turbines start to howl; shimmering, the plane thrusts forwards: reaching airspeed it leaves both the safety of the ground and Eve’s concerns behind.

  Jeff looks through the window trying to locate the car, and Eve. The moment is exhausted as quickly as it presents itself; disappointment leaves only the contrasting plains of the South West to contemplate. For protection, Eve gave him a Saint Christopher that belonged to her grandma; he holds it in his hand. Jeff tries to focus his mind on what lies in Cambridge; the memories and expectation of things to come. How will he be received by his daughters?

  The air miles are mercifully short, and the pilot backs off airspeed for descent. The familiar quilted city landscape residing alongside estuaries reassures passengers that all’s well. The plane circles over the glistening waters of Massachusetts Bay and over Long Island before making the final approach. Touchdown is a routine affair, landing safely and on time at Boston's Logan International Airport.

  Once through the gate, Jeff finds a quiet area in the lounge. He promised Eve he would phone on touchdown. He receives 'the number you have dialed is not valid' message. This is Eve’s primary phone, and there’s no landline back at the ranch. He tries once more and folds in to the fact that he’ll have to phone later from the apartment. Jeff makes his way through the airport, feeling the loneliness of the crowd. Not a soul waits here for his arrival. A shiny white limousine draws up, and Jeff steps into the back.

  “Kingston Court, Cambridge near the university please.”

  “Sure, good flight?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  Jeff settles into the leather seat as the cabbie turns on the meter. They travel through the tunnel beneath the inner harbor, exiting into the glory of daylight and the bustling metropolis that defines the Boston landscape.

  The capital and largest city of Massachusetts defines itself through music, sports and culture. This city, these streets are alive and vibrant. The Charles River crossing is thought-provoking, the terrain flat, open and picturesque with all manner of yachts, speed and sail boats. Instead of mountains and plains, high rise buildings built from quarried stone now form squares and rectangles rising into the sky. Jeff hasn’t paid any attention to the driver until now. He’s young, friendly, and charismatic. He wouldn’t look out of place as a leading actor, wearing a grey fedora hat, with brown shoulder length hair, a designer beard and round metal framed glasses. His hands stretch up to the steering wheel, displaying colorful leather beads and bands around his wrists.

  “Business or pleasure?”

  “I’ve an apartment here.” Jeff’s thoughts are in the past. “I’ve lectured at the university for many years.”

  “Academic. I’m more your free spirit so to speak, but then again what better place than the university to meet young ladies?”

  “Yes, what better place?”

  Early memories of Eve flood back. It was in the summer of 2007. All postgraduates face a new ladder to climb; this is their first day. Jeff sets up his equipment and checks his notes are in order. The theatre fills up around him. He’s to ensure that all new students leave with the impression that their course is off to a good start. Eve catches his eye as she walks in. His first thought is 'what are you doing here'? And does a double take, the realization filtering through; he didn’t know her, and yet feels he does.

  “Here we are.” The driver’s voice slices through time.

  Jeff takes out his wallet, pays the driver and reaches for the door handle.

  “On
e moment, here’s my card, the name's Joe.”

  “Thanks, Joe.”

  Jeff tucks the card into his pocket, and steps out onto the sidewalk. He doesn’t hear the taxi pull away; his senses are still in the past, focused on the house that’s been his home since the marriage failed. A five story mid-nineteenth century red brick bow-front house. It has a small garden that blooms out onto the sidewalk, fenced with ornate black cast iron. Jeff walks up the concrete steps, opens the front door, and walks into the communal hallway. There’s little mail in his pigeon hole. Before he reaches the stairs the ground floor apartment opens.

  “Mr. Gregory, how are you today?” The old timer stands in a tartan dressing gown, expressionless and without a smile. “Mr. Gregory?” He simply walks back into his apartment, closing the door without saying a word. Jeff’s concerned he’s had a funny turn; he reminds himself to check on him later. Walking up the stairs, he hears the door open again. Is Mr. Gregory avoiding him?

  The old brown door to his apartment shudders against the frame. Jeff walks in; something feels wrong. It only takes a second.

  “Where are my photographs?”

  Closer inspection reveals no holes in the wall paper, where he knocked the nails in to hang them in the first place. Fearing a burglary, he goes through all his personal possessions. Everything of value is here except his car keys, photographs, paperwork, and keepsakes relating to his years of teaching. Why would anyone want those? There’s no signs of forced entry. He walks to the back of the property. When he reaches his allocated parking spot, the car’s no longer there. It appears someone else took the liberty of parking in his spot.

  The police spend their valuable time listening to Jeff’s account, and take a statement. They are equally baffled. Then discover that Jeff’s parking spot has been rented by the owner of the car parked there for over twelve months. Jeff has no vehicle registered in the police database. In fact the cops aren’t even sure if he’s been a lecturer at the university. Are they dealing with a psychopath? Towering over Jeff, the cop tactfully defuses the situation, whilst ensuring he doesn’t trouble them again.

  “Dr. Davies. We have no idea where your personal photographs and memorabilia are. Without any evidence of a break in there’s nothing we can do.”

  “Someone’s been here.” Jeff’s aghast; he feels violated and humiliated. “There must be something you can do?”

  “Our investigations show no vehicle is registered to you. The parking spot you claim as yours has been rented by a neighbor for over twelve months.”

  “That’s not possible.” What the fuck’s going on?

  “Dr. Davies, do not approach the vehicle owner. Make sure your facts are clear and correct before calling us out. It’s an offense to do so otherwise.” The cop’s angry at this time waster. “Have I made myself clear?”

  “Perfectly, but-”

  “That’s all I need to hear. Goodbye, Dr. Davies.”

  Complicating matters further, Eve’s telephone connection is still unobtainable. Confusion deepens when he turns the laptop on, and discovers that all correspondence with Eve has been deleted. Lonely and confused Jeff retires for the night. The last voice he hears before drifting into sleep tells him that 'the number you have phoned is not valid'.

  Not so many miles away from Jeff’s apartment is a quiet sleepy neighborhood where good folks sleep soundly and dogs don’t bark at night. It’s here the special blue townhouse resides, the most beautiful rose amongst the many. The hue of the streetlamp shines through the landing window, reflecting on the pink bedroom door where at this precise moment secret whispers may be heard.

  “Louise.” Jessica waits for an answer and doesn’t receive one. “Louise, are you awake?”

  “No, go to sleep.” Louise is too tired to be bothered with her sister’s stupid questions.

  “Louise.”

  “What?” She snaps.

  “Dad’s coming tomorrow.”

  “So?”

  “Do you think they’ll get back together?”

  Louise reaches for the bedside lamp and switches it on. The girls squint their eyes whilst white butterflies, fairies and unicorns illuminate pink bedroom walls. They share the bedside cabinet which resides between two flower-quilted single beds. Louise looks at her sister and shakes her head.

  “No.” Her voice is sad. She wishes Jessica would leave it alone.

  “Why not?”

  “Mom said she doesn’t care if he drops dead.”

  “When did she say that?” Jessica’s shocked. What an awful thing to say.

  “On the phone. She said he was a deadbeat dad.” Louise emphasized the words 'deadbeat dad'.

  “Who was she talking to?” As far as she’s concerned, mom shouldn’t be saying such horrible things.

  “I don’t know.” Louise doesn’t care. “Anyway, she’s got Steve.”

  “He’s creepy, I don’t like him. I wish we had dad.”

  “Well we don’t, shut up and go to sleep.”

  Louise turns the bedside lamp off, and the room is once again in darkness.

  “Still wish we had dad.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  The morning smells just like any other, burnt toast and egg permeate the air, but excitement has no smell. The girls have been showered, fed and cautioned on what they may or may not say to their father when he arrives. The minutes drag as they eagerly look through the window. A white limousine draws up outside.

  “Mom he’s here.” Jessica shouts.

  “Okay, girls, now remember what I said.”

  “Be good.” Both girls smile to each other.

  “Yes, now quickly put your jackets on.”

  Jeff steps onto the sidewalk. From the corner of his eye he catches movement behind the living room window. The front door opens and his daughters are ushered out. Chloe stands behind the door, not wishing to see or be seen by Jeff. The door closes. Jeff bends down with his arms out stretched, and Jessica runs into her dad’s waiting arms.

  “I’ve missed you, Dad.” She’s so excited; squeezing tight, she gives him a long hug.

  “I’ve missed you too, honey.” He holds back tears.

  Louise stands an arm's distance away, embarrassed after refusing to speak to her dad on the phone.

  “Come on, give your dad a hug.” He tries to coax her.

  She hesitates. Seeing her sister in one arm, she decides to join her in the other. With the girls on either side, he proudly holds each of their hands, walking to the sidewalk and climbing into the car.

  “Girls, this is Joe, he’s going to be our driver today.”

  “Hi Joe.” The girls are polite, but dismiss Joe. They're far too excited. “Where’re we going Dad?”

  Jeff grins. “That’s a surprise.” From the shadows of the furthest living room corner, Chloe watches the limousine drive away.

  There’s nothing as alluring for Jessica and Louise as the approaching rainbow skyline. Rising peaks of twisting, screaming colorful steel, Ferris wheels and golden arches. They smile at each other. They’re minutes away from being immersed in the land of imagination; of cotton candy, flags, balloons and wild rides. The cab draws to a halt at the drop off point. Joe twists himself round, peers through glasses placed on the tip of his nose, and for one moment becomes a playful fairground character.

  “Wonderland awaits, but beware the fairground monsters, and stay close to your dad.”

  “There’s no such thing as fairground monsters.” Jessica’s wise to his silliness.

  “Oh yes there is.”

  “Oh no there isn’t.” Both girls can’t resist playing along with the amateur dramatics.

  “Thank you, Joe.” Jeff stops Joe’s foolery. “If you pick us up around six?”

  “I’ll be here, enjoy your day.”

  Jessica gives Joe her best silly smile, whilst Louise simply sticks her tongue out, before stepping out of the cab and onto the sidewalk. The vibe of the fairground lifts their already high spirits. Crowds of excited p
eople, moms, dads, grandparents, children and even teenagers on their best behavior. As with the Pied Piper casting his spell, the magic here is not only the sights, but the air filled with music; hydraulic machinery, screams, laughter and excited chatter.

  “Dad can we go on the roller coaster?”

  “If you’re tall enough.”

  “We are.” They’re proud of the fact! “Steve brought us here, and we’re tall enough for all the rides now.”

  “Did he?” Jeff experiences a throb of emotional pain. “Well, come on then.”

  He pays the price for not raising his children; would he change his world if he could? The girls run in front as he contemplates the question. Six years and Jessica will be eighteen: in due course they will grow up and be looking to have families of their own. The loss of Eve would be far too great; this is the price that he’s to pay.

  Up front a colorful costume character with a handful of balloons playfully tries in vain to catch the girl’s attention. Last time Jeff was here with Chloe, it was quite a different matter. He took photographs as the girls stood there so innocently, believing it was all real.

  Jeff steps into the ride with a flutter of regret. The girls smile to each other as the bar comes down; he ensures it’s firmly in place. It’s the ricketiness of it all that he doesn’t like, the clunking and clanking that makes him feel something’s gone wrong even before he’s reached the top. The views are magnificent; his fear is the drop. The screaming starts just before the carriages are whipped round. Jeff holds his breath and his body rigid as they plummet down, breathing again as they are whipped through the tunnel and round a twisting bend. The brakes are applied: finally he can relax. They come to a stop.

  “Let’s get back in line.” Louise giggles to Jessica.

  “No.” Jeff hears the panic in his own voice. “There’s much more to see.”

  “Oh, Dad.” They're both disappointed.