by
Andy Engines
“Lower”.
The old woman critiqued me as I awkwardly lowered myself in a curtsey whilst
holding the folds of my course skirt and crossing one leg behind the other.
Yesterday
in the great house I had been dusting ornaments when a lady swept through the
room. She glided saliently past me and it seemed to me that we existed in
parallel universes. To her it appeared I didn’t exist. She entered and departed
at the same speed, her eyes fixed ahead and head unmoving. I was invisible or
so I thought. In the kitchen during our break there was a hubbub of chatter.
Hearing my name dragged me from my thoughts and into the present.
“Marije,
stupid girl.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t
you know how to show respect to your betters.” The housekeeper turned back to
the old woman. “At least she didn’t speak… thank God for small mercies.”
The
big house had changed many things. Our once peaceful existence was shattered; the
simple routines I had become accustomed to had been disrupted by the twice
weekly trek to what I now thought of as ‘work’. Like the cottage I found myself
adapting to change and as the cottage had given me comfort the big house gave
me purpose, I had a role for the first time in my life. I had never envisaged
myself cleaning but the challenge of the task and the headspace that repeated
cleaning gave me was cathartic. I could drift off and let emotion melt away.
Something
was happening, changing again. As winter progressed into spring the staff at
the house seemed busier. There was an urgency that hadn’t existed before but I
knew better than to ask anything of anyone. I either wouldn’t get an answer or
who ever I asked would laugh. My Croatian though improving was still halting
and the effect was it made me appear slow, it made me appear stupid. I knew
different but in a world of blind men the one-eyed man is King and I was beyond
blind. My defence mechanism was to listen, to observe, to learn and above all
to say as little as possible.
After
we finished my lessons the old woman smiled and made me remain standing. “Here
girl lift your apron let me see your waist.” As I raised my apron she took a
tape from one of her many pockets and without warning reached around me and
took my waist size. She followed this with chest, bust, legs, arms and with the
occasional tut she wrote everything down.
“What
is this for?”
“Shhhh
it’s a surprise.” And not another word was said.
“That’s
not my passport.”
“I
know. But it is yours for now.” Mr Gaspar held it out to me with his face
devoid of emotion. “Valentina, this is your get out of jail free card.”
“My
what?”
“This
is a journey you started with your choices. Think about that.” He paused to let
it sink in and all the time his eyes never left mine. “Let us help you. And for
us to help you we need to keep you out of the prison.”
“But
what about Marije. She is innocent. We can’t leave her with this.” Emotion was
climbing ever higher in my chest and I could feel my hands start to tremble. I
grabbed the passport from his hand and waved it in front of him. “An innocent
woman has been arrested for murder and all you can do is say ‘this is your get out of jail free card’.”
He
just stared at me, his face gave nothing away and when he spoke his voice was
level, even, calm. “You had a duty to Marije and you failed.”
“I
failed… How do you work that out, it was Marije who persuaded me to let her go
to the police and…” I stopped mid sentence. It hit me all at once. She had
needed to persuade me. Me. I was her employer. I had a duty of care. I had been
responsible for her. I could have said no. He was right. I had failed Marije
right from the start.
“Valentina.
Listen to me. We are here to help both you and Marije. Let me do my job. Please
let me do my job and you will both be safe.”
As
I sat milling my actions over in my mind the smell of cherry tobacco drifted
lazily over my head. Once more I thought of my Grandfather and right then I
would have given anything to be that small girl on his lap again.
The
silence was destroyed by a knock at the door and with a start I sat upright. I
didn’t want to move. I didn’t want to see whatever bad news was standing on the
other side. Mr Gaspar looked towards me and smiled.
“The
Cavalry. I think you call it.”
“Cavalry?”
Without
another word he walked to the door and opened it. Standing on the threshold was
a man of medium age in a suit. He looked dishevelled and tired but then he
smiled and spoke.
“James
Colsen. For Miss Valentina Van Den Berg. Mark Jopson sent me. Mr Banko Gaspar I
presume.”
I
never thought I would be so happy to hear an American accent but as he spoke it
seemed as if everything was positive again. I was not alone.
Scribbled
notes were spread over the table and the pile grew as the sun marched across
the sky. I had told and retold the series of events from start to finish
several times. I would have thought that each telling of the story would get
easier but with my new perspective it only got harder. Now that I realised I
was responsible for this mess I found it even more painful to dredge up every
little detail. It was as if I had taken a few steps left and was now seeing the
picture from a new angle.
After
I finished talking James started to question Mr Gaspar and slowly it evolved
into a full discussion between the two men. I felt like a spectator as they
talked and feeling useless I offered to make coffee. It kept me distracted and
I needed to do something. When I returned James was on his phone and on seeing
me waved me over. Placing his phone on the table he turned on the speaker and
Marks voiced filled the room.
“Mark.”
“Val.
How are you holding up?
First
there was Mr Gaspar, then James and now Mark. I felt safe. I felt positive.
“Mark,
I am good and thanks for calling. You have no idea how much I appreciate your
help… everyone’s help. I just want to resolve this now. Have you heard about
Marije?”
“Yes, James filled me in. Branco seems to have a handle on the legal aspects
regarding the courts and Branco please let James know what funds are needed and
where.”
I
looked across at Mr Gaspar who was quietly nodding.
“Now
Val, give James and Branco the details for rental payments for the apartment
and any other information they may need. I will fax through power of attorney
paperwork to release funds on your behalf and for the defence costs. Are you
happy with this?”
“Of
course, anything that is needed just ask.”
“So, gentleman lets aim at having a plan of attack laid out by morning. My first aim
would be to have the charges dropped and the return of Marije. If that happens
James fly the girls out immediately. Understood?”
“Got
it.” James was scribbling on a new pad as Mark spoke. The relief in my mind was
palpable. It was as if Marks words were clearing the clouds and making
everything seem simple. Straightforward. I felt energy where before there was
lethargy and defeat.
“Branco,
push every button that you can. Take legal argument and if you think that is
failing use whatever you can. If we must then grease the wheels. Leave no stone
unturned.”
Mr
Gaspar leaned close to the phone. “Grease the wheels, sorry I don’t
understand.”
“Money
Gaspar. If you need to then spread money to get our result. Be clear that I am
aiming at a result, the methodology is unimportant. Understand? And people tell
me if you are unhappy or have a problem with this. If you do speak up now.”
Silence
filled the room.
“Good.
Let's talk tomorrow at 1200 your time.”
looking forward to seeing how this story develops so many possibilities
ReplyDeleteHugs
Jackie J
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