“Marije, stupid girl.”
The old woman’s hand flashed out and caught me hard on the side of my face. Tears welled up and I fought to hold them in as nausea pushed up from my stomach and I started to shake. Her face instantly changed and she smiled again and then held me tight.
“Sorry my child but you have to be less clumsy.”
I looked down at the shards of the vase around my feet and so wanted to tell her it was a mistake; that the cat had made me jump, but although my understanding was improving my spoken vocabulary was woefully inadequate still.
“Sorry. Mistake.”
She held me back at arm’s length and smiling she took a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped my eyes. “Now, get this mess cleared up.”
It had been a month since the old woman had woken me earlier than usual and with few words had hustled me out of the house into the darkness of early morning. We had started walking and after an hour I saw that we were descending into a small hamlet. She didn’t try to explain but held my hand tight and held me at her side as she led the way. I tried to ask questions but all she would do was smile at me, hold my hand a little tighter and just say. “You will see my child.”
Fear rose in my chest as we got closer and every part of me wanted to turn and run back to the cottage, back to my sanctuary. I didn’t realize how isolated I had become. My only human contact was with the old woman and the odd visit by Mr Gaspar but he hadn’t been lately. His visits had been my lifeline at the beginning but as time went on they became less important as I resigned myself to my impossible predicament. He would bring news and messages from Mark but the importance of those had faded slowly with the passage of time.
Taking deep breaths, I walked holding the old woman’s hand, taking strength from her touch. Just before we reached the houses we turned left onto a lane and there in the distance I saw the silhouette of a large house against the dawn sky. It was huge and imposing, blocks of black drawn against a gray canvas with the crunching of grave beneath my feet only adding to the drama. Each little sight and sound was new. I was a child seeing and hearing for the first time in part fear and part fascination.
Slowly dim light appeared through lower windows and without loss of speed or step the old woman led us to a small door with a warm glow pouring through the window. She knocked gently and without pause the door opened.
“Come in, your early. Sit. Coffee is ready. Is this the girl.”
Words flowed and I was ushered into a chair by a huge fire and a coffee placed into my frozen hands.
“Is this the girl?” Marije?”
“Yes, she will help me from now on.”
“She is a quiet one…”
“Yes, thank the lord, she listens but keeps her tongue where it belongs…”
“Is she stupid?”
“No, not stupid, just quiet. She is nervous but a hard worker.”
“Hmmm we will see…”
The conversation flew between the two women and I understood most of it, enough to understand and I had no desire to speak. Silence was my sanctuary. As I listened I understood I would be with the old woman and I a huge sigh of relief poured through me.
With the pieces of the vase swept and tidied up we continued our routine of dusting and cleaning and slowly my mind started to wander to the huge lunch that I knew we would be getting. It was always the way in the house, clean until 12 and then an hour for lunch. Rest in front of the fire and then clean again until 6 when we would have dinner. Dinner marked the end of our day and then we would walk back to the cottage in darkness. It was only two days every week but slowly I had learnt to love the walk, learnt to love the space, the faces and above all the plentiful food.
That night I reflected on the slap the old woman had given me and I knew my cheek still showed the red mark of her hand. It had shocked me but as I replayed the scene in my mind I realised one little fact that in my shock I had missed. As the vase shattered and splintered there was a look of fear on her face.
The apartment was silent as I sat watching through the window across the square waiting for Mr Gaspar’s triumphant return. In my mind I could see Marije walking beside him with a smile on her face. I was proud that I had done the right thing, I was proud that I had turned this around.
My happy expectation deflated slightly when I eventually saw him walk across the square. Alone. There was no Marije but then I chided myself for being so foolish. ‘Wait Val’ I thought, ‘wait to hear what he says’. Everything is good. Everything is fine. It had become my mantra.
“Miss Van Den Berg.” He stood in the living room basked in the light of the sun flowing through the window. I smiled.
“Mr Gaspar. Tell me please.”
He paused looking at me and then looked away, his face was not that of the jubilant victor and as he sat fear rose in my chest.
“Please sit.” I looked at him as he spoke and those two words conveyed more messages than I wanted to hear. As I sat I felt myself shake and tears formed in my eyes.
He looked at me and paused, I looked for his smile and yet all I could see was sorrow.
“Miss Valentina Van Den Berg has officially been charged with involuntary manslaughter this morning.” He paused again and looked at the floor. Parts of my world started to fall as the full impact of his words took hold.
“Manslaughter?”
“Yes.”
The room shrunk as my world started to fall apart. “Tell me what does it mean. Explain it.” I needed to know details and for now Marije was forgotten. Quite selfishly my world contained me and me alone with my desolation.
“Involuntary Manslaughter. It is the lesser of all murder charges-“
“Murder.” The word came gasping from my mouth.
“We prefer manslaughter. But Miss Van Den Berg I can assure you we can squash this before it even comes to trial. It is absurd to be honest.” He sat back and I could see he was changed. He looked a little shocked and his smile seemed a million miles away.”
Thoughts assaulted my mind and thinking became hard but one thought was foremost in my mind. “We cannot let Marije go through with this. We have to explain.”
“Explain?”
“That I am Valentina Van Den Berg.” As I finished speaking he smiled, but it was a sad smile.
“That I am afraid is impossible. I have talked this through with Mark and he agrees.”
“Agrees to what?”
“That you must remain Marije Zuzic for now-“ I sat up straight and went to speak but he raised his hand to stop me. “- Miss Van Den Berg, if we change the story now the police will build a stronger case and there will be no way out. We are stuck in our lie. Let this run its course, I am confident it will never get to court and you will be able to continue with your life.”
I was shocked at his words, this was nothing I had ever dreamed of. “But what of Marije, what of me. What do we do?”
“Do… We fight this with all the power at our disposal. We do this the right way and we do it the wrong way. The right way is due course, diligence and leaving no stone unturned to reverse this…”
“And the wrong way?”
“We bribe, we corrupt and we derail this silly case. With your power this will be an easy matter. And as for Marije we will protect her and do whatever is needed.” As he spoke he reached into his briefcase and removed a passport.
But I could tell it wasn’t mine.
Hmmm? Is Val going to remain where she is as Marije, or is she perhaps going to go to some other country as Marije, or even as yet a third person? Is she going to be moving still further away from the life of Valentina Van Den Berg...?
ReplyDeleteWell, we can pretty much count on that last being true, can't we?