Stretched Horizons

by Ross Richdale

  The silence that followed was unnerving.

  "Jenny," Bree cried. "Are you okay?"

  "Fine, Bree," Jenny panted. "And you?"

  "I'm not sure," Bree replied. She found reverse and backed the car off to the edge of the road.

  There were no other vehicles in sight, only black tyre marks across the road and a massive gouge of bare soil where grass had been uprooted.

  "It was Colin," Bree whispered. She hit the gas, swung out to avoid the Landcruiser tyre marks and would have accelerated away to put space between her and the man who had violated her so much in the past.

  Jenny, however, placed a hand on her shoulder. "You have to stop, Bree," she said in a loud but unexpected calm voice. "I doubt if he will be any condition to do anything to you."

  Bree braked and pulled the car to the road shoulder. For a moment, she leaned over the steering wheel gasping and staring ahead.

  "Are you all right?" Jenny asked.

  Bree turned. "Of course I'm not bloody all right," she gasped. "That bastard... Oh hell." She opened the door, staggered out and vomited on the grass.

  Jenny followed and tucked an arm around her shoulders. "Come on, Bree. You'll be fine. We're safe and it was your driving that did it."

  Bree glanced up with lips quivering. "My husband tried to kill us, Jenny," she repeated. "The bastard. What have I ever done to him?"

  "But he didn't, Bree. We survived. I'm going to tell Ray how you saved us."

  "Come on," Bree said and climbed back into the car.

  "Bree." Jenny pleaded. "We have to go back and see what happened. Stay here if you wish and I'll do it."

  "I wasn't going anywhere," Bree whispered. She waited while Jenny went around and sat in the passenger seat and reversed back up the road to where only the wheels of the Landcruiser showed above the crumpled grass.

  "Oh God!" Jenny gasped after they had made their way through the ripped and flattened grass. The Landcruiser was upside down in the dry ditch but there was no cab beneath, just tortured metal, broken glass and stream hissing up from a ruptured radiator. The smell of petrol and burning rubber whiffed through the air.

  Bree stood, transfixed and watched while Jenny made her way down the slope and bent down to gaze through the gap that was once the driver's window. For a moment, she just stared before she turned and made her way on all fours back up the bank to Bree. Her face was ashen.

  "Well?" Bree stuttered.

  "I think he's dead, Bree. By the look of him I'd say his neck and just about everything else in his upper body, was broken."

  Bree nodded and stood shaking in her friend's arms. Tears rolled down her cheeks. That could have been them rather than Colin in that mangled wreck.

  THE FOLLOWING DAYS after the accident were ones Bree wouldn't wish on her worst enemy and it was still not over. She had been summoned back to the police station and waited nervously for yet another interview. Even though Ray had tried to reassure her everything would turn out okay, she was not confident. She had already admitted she had recognized her husband as the driver of the other vehicle and had purposely turned her car into it. Back home, the authorities would be ruthless in a similar situation and now she had just been told an Inspector Cosgrove wanted to speak to her. This sounded ominous. Constables or sergeants had taken all the previous interviews.

  A middle-aged man in blue uniform with pips on his sleeve walked out to meet her. "If you would come into my office, Mrs. Ashworth," he said in a soft voice and glanced up at the constable behind the counter. "Could you bring us both a cup of coffee please, Tami?"

  "Yes, sir," the officer replied and gave Bree a smile. Whether it was of pity or sympathy, she wasn't sure.

  The inspector invited her to sit and opened a document. He read for a moment before looking up. "It has been a harrowing week, Mrs. Ashworth," he said.

  "It has, Inspector Cosgrove."

  "I see you are a primary school headteacher back in Hammersmith, London. You have done well."

  "Thank you," Bree muttered. Her heart raced and she wished he'd get on with the grim truth.

  However, the man smiled, thanked Tami who arrived with two coffees, and handed one to Bree. She thanked him, added milk and waited.

  "We have a witness that confirms your statement that the Landcruiser driven by your husband was trying to ram your vehicle, Mrs. Ashworth," the police inspector said. "We also believe your action in those last seconds before the accident was the only possible one."

  Bree blew a sigh of relief and waited while the police officer continued.

  "We further believe it wasn't an accident but a premeditated attempt by your husband to drive you off the road. However, since he was killed in the resulting collision, and no third party was involved, we have decided not to investigate the matter further. No charges will be laid against you. I wish to extend my deepest sympathy to you and your family."

  "Thank you, inspector," Bree replied. She sucked on her lip. "...And the other matter?"

  The police officer glanced up. "It is true your husband was wanted for questioning by us. A young woman laid a complaint of sexual assault against him."

  "A prostitute?"

  "I am not at liberty to say, Mrs. Ashworth."

  Bree sighed. "It doesn't matter, Inspector Cosgrove. It's happened before."

  "Will you need any assistance with the funeral arrangements?"

  "No, thank you. The funeral director has been excellent. Colin's body will be cremated here in Palmerston North and his ashes returned home."

  The inspector stood and shook Bree's hand. "It's been a tragic visit to our country, Mrs. Ashworth," he said. "First, the plane crash and now this accident."

  Bree nodded, smiled at Tami who held the door open and walked out into the sunshine.

  "So it was as I predicted?" Ray said after he'd kissed her.

  Bree nodded. "Jenny's statement helped and apparently another witness saw everything. I guess it was that driver who stopped a few minutes after the explosion." She sighed. "There's only tomorrow's funeral service and we can put all this behind us."

  "Did the police reveal anything new?" Ray asked.

  "Not really. Colin had been in the country only two days and beat up a woman the night before. They found no motivation for his actions, so I guess we'll never know."

  "It was jealousy," Jenny said. "He found out about you and Ray and was insanely jealous."

  Bree glanced at her. "But who would have told him?"

  "Who knows?" Jenny shrugged and dug Ray in the ribs. "Helps though, aye?'

  "What do you mean?" Ray replied.

  "Well, you aren't chasing a married woman and have to wait for her divorce now, do you? Here's only a grieving widow to look after."

  "Jenny!" Bree gasped.

  "Yeah, I know... shut up. But it's the truth, you know."

  "And told with your usual finesse and charm." Ray chuckled. "Come on, ladies. I'll shout you both some lunch. That's the least I can do."

  Bree smiled and followed as Ray swung his crutches out and headed for the nearby mall.

  CHAPTER 16

  With Ray back home, the Prestons still there and the police inquiries over, Bree decided it didn't matter what other people's opinions were and she'd do what she wanted. She moved into Ray's bedroom to his delight, Jenny's approval and icy body language from Emily.

  Ray grinned as she packed her new clothes in a dressing table drawer and turned to stare into his eyes. "All my life, I tried to help and please others and do you know what, Ray?"

  "It's an impossible task?"

  "Exactly. Take Emily for example. Once they go home, I'll probably never see her again. If she doesn't like me or what I do, what the hell." She pouted. "My mum was like her. I guess that's why it grates."

  "I know," Ray replied. He tucked his arms around her and kissed her neck. "So, what happens when you do go home?"

  Bree turned around. "I don't know," she whispered. "I have to go back, of course. I just told myself
I couldn't care less about other people, but I do. There are all the wonderful people around me. I love you, Ray but I don't know why."

  "Why try to diagnose everything? Just let it unfold..."

  "Ray," Bree cut in. "Didn't you hear me? I said I loved you, more now than before Colin's death and you react by..."

  Her words were cut off when Ray kissed her with a passion Bree didn't expect. She responded but struggled away, blinking tears. "Is that it, Ray?" she whispered. "Is it merely the sex?'"

  "No," Ray said. "I love you, too, Bree." He grinned. "There you are, I said it. Now, how about having a shower with me?" He dragged her, protesting, through to the bathroom.

  Bree never objected as he methodically removed her clothes and thrust her under the warm shower. She tipped hair shampoo over him and ducked under his arms. He caught her halfway across the bedroom and carried her to the bed. There, he made gentle, wild love with her. Afterwards, Bree realized the shower was still going so went into the cramped steamy cubical built for one. Ray followed and they made love once more.

  "Oh my God," Bree whispered afterwards as she slipped into pyjamas and rubbed her hair with a towel. "You're the limit."

  "What limits?" Ray chuckled.

  Bree attempted to glower but merely managed a smile as she crawled between the crisp red sheets on their bed. "I'm going to sleep," she finally said.

  THE SUN HAD JUST RISEN when the telephone rang. Ray was snoring so Bree reached across him, grabbed the instrument and answered it.

  A sobbing, barely coherent voice filled her ears. "I wish to speak to Bree Ashworth, please," the voice gasped.

  Thoughts whizzed through Bree's mind. The voice had a London accent. It was not, though, someone she recognized.

  "This is Bree speaking," she said.

  "Oh, Bree, this is Linda Rouke speaking. There's nobody else to turn to." Sobbing prevented words for several seconds before the voice continued. "It's Colin..."

  Bree frowned. Of course, Linda would have heard of his death. She'd contacted relations back home and arranged for a funeral notice to go in London and Birmingham newspapers. One of her friends back home said she would contact Linda.

  "I'm terribly sorry, Linda. It was a tragic accident..." she began.

  "I want to come to his funeral," the other woman blurted out. "But I can't afford the air fare."

  "I see," Bree replied. "Of course, you're welcome to come. We are going to bring his ashes home and have a memorial service in London, you know. It's what his mother wants. You could come to that."

  "No, I need to come to his funeral. Oh, you don't understand..."

  The woman was extremely distressed.

  "So it is important that you are here?" Bree said after managing to calm Linda down.

  "Yes."

  "Do you have a joint account or money of your own?"

  "A little of my own but not enough " Linda replied. "Colin always handled the money. He gave me an allowance."

  That sounded like the man. He always wanted to dominate.

  "Okay, Linda. I'll get you the ticket and it can be paid for out of Colin's estate. There's not a lot of time, though. The funeral is the day after tomorrow. You only have about thirty-six hours."

  "Oh, Bree, you'd do that?"

  "Isn't that what you wanted?" Bree replied, her voice without emotion.

  "Yes. It's just so terrible. I need to be with him one last time."

  "Okay, Linda. Give me your telephone number and email address. I'll call back early tomorrow morning, your time." She hung up and found Ray's arms around her shoulders.

  "The girlfriend?" he asked.

  "She's devastated, Ray. What else could I do?"

  "Bree, that's one reason I love you. It would have been so easy to say sweet things and hang up the phone but you didn't."

  Bree grimaced. "And, given the circumstances, you would have?"

  Ray smiled. "No, I'd have done the same," he replied. "If you give me your credit card number I'll go get her a ticket."

  "Ray, it's five-fifteen in the morning."

  "On the internet, my love," he said, kissed her and disappeared out the bedroom door.

  THE FLIGHT FROM AUCKLAND arrived at Palmerston North Airport at one-thirty and the funeral was at four. Bree, Ray and Jenny waited in the terminal as passengers walked in from the Air New Zealand aeroplane. It was another scorching day and most of the passengers were dressed in shorts or light clothes.

  She recognized Linda at once and grasped Ray's hand. The woman wore light slacks and a loose blouse but it did not cover one obvious fact. She was pregnant.

  "Oh shit," Jenny whispered. "No wonder she was distressed."

  Bree swallowed and attempted to cover her utter surprise.

  Linda looked blankly around the terminal. Her tired eyes lit up when she saw Bree walking towards her. She looked nervous but also relieved at the sight of someone to meet her.

  "Linda," Bree said. "You look exhausted. I never realized you were..." Her voice trailed off. "Colin was the father?" she added.

  "Yes," Linda replied. "I can't hide it, can I?"

  "Nor should you," Bree replied.

  Her mind was in turmoil. She thought of her own pregnancies. Neither had progressed as far as Linda was now but the last could have if, in one of his rages, her husband hadn't beaten her so badly she had lost the child. It would have been a little girl. She studied Linda. Sure, she looked exhausted but there were traces of abuse, too. Her bare arms showed bruises and Bree was sure there was a thin scar across her cheek.

  Jenny must have realized Bree's dilemma for she took over the conversation. "Hi, " she said. "I'm Jenny, Bree's travelling companion. She was going to come here with Colin but..." She gulped and flushed.

  "I know," Linda replied. "Look, I'll stay at a motel tonight and return to Auckland tomorrow." She shook her head and wiped a hand over her eyes as if trying to clear her senses. "I had to come, though."

  Bree cut in. "You will stay with us. I'm not going to leave you alone in a strange country." She turned to Ray. "Tell her she's welcome, Ray."

  Ray introduced himself and supported Bree. "There's room at my place if you don't mind sharing a bedroom with Jenny." He smiled. "Come on, I'll get your bags. There's time for you to clean up and relax for a while. If you'd like to visit the funeral home, I'll take you but that'll have to be soon, I'm afraid. The undertaker will be taking the body out to the crematorium at three."

  "Thank you," Linda replied. "I'm a little tired. Twenty-six hours on the flight across the world was a long time." She glanced across at Bree. "It feels all wrong, like a terrible dream. Even now, I can't really grasp what happened."

  "Come on," Bree said. She put an arm around the Linda's quivering shoulders. "You're with friends now."

  Linda blinked back tears "Am I?" she whispered. "Your husband's mistress, carrying his child, here for his funeral."

  Bree swallowed. "There is no animosity, Linda. You didn't break us up. My marriage to Colin was over well before he met you."

  Linda gave a tiny smile. "He wasn't an easy man to live with, was he?"

  "No, but let's not dwell on that, now."

  While they talked, Ray led them to where the passengers' luggage was circling around a conveyer belt. Linda pointed out a large pack, and Ray lifted it onto a trolley. The group walked out to the car, where Bree insisted Linda sit in the front. She walked around the car to where Jenny waited

  "Did you see her bruised throat?" Jenny whispered.

  "No," Bree admitted. "I saw her arms, though. Poor kid. I'm glad we're here to help her."

  "Yeah," Jenny replied. "It takes two to tango, though, doesn't it?"

  There was no time to reply but Bree caught Jenny's somewhat unsympathetic eyes. Linda was no angel but seeing the woman so heavily pregnant jolted her memories to what might have been. When she slipped into the back seat of the car, she caught Jenny's eyes. Nothing was said but Bree knew her friend understood.

  THE FUNERAL WAS
SUBDUED; Linda cried continuously, Bree sobbed, Jenny shed a few sympathy tears and Ray looked glum. Emily and Ken insisted on coming and joined the family near the front of the tiny crowd. The rest of the mourners were strangers but some introduced themselves. Two were New Zealand representatives from the company Colin worked for and another two, police officers. Who the other dozen or so mourners were, Bree had no idea.

  When the service was concluded she walked over to thank the funeral director. After the usual courtesy comments she remarked on the number of flowers around the coffin and also the memorial sheet that had been distributed. It had a photo of her late husband on the cover.

  "His mother couldn't be here but sent most of the flowers," the man said in a hushed voice that funeral directors usually cultivate. "She sent his photograph over as an email attachment and asked for it to be used. I tried to contact you about it this morning but you were out. I hope you didn't mind."

  "Not at all," Bree replied. "Thank you. I appreciate your thoughtfulness."

  "It's been a tragedy and I'm glad I could help." The man rubbed his nose. "Who was the young pregnant woman with you? I heard her English accent and noticed she was quite distressed. The deceased's sister or close relative?"

  Bree's lips dropped. His smooth talk annoyed her. "Mr. Franwell, she is my late husband's mistress and it's his child she's carrying," she retorted and walked away.

  Bree received another surprise before she reached the car where Ray, Jenny and Linda were waiting. Emily intercepted her halfway across the car park. She held the memorial sheet in her hand.

  "Bree," she said in a voice as hushed as the funeral director's. "I didn't know or I would have told you."

  Bree frowned. "Told me what, Emily?"

  "Your late husband. I recognized his photograph. The day before the accident he came to Ray's house looking for you."

  "What?" Bree's voice was loud.

  Emily reddened. "I thought he was an English reporter. It wasn't until now that I... I'm sorry, Bree. I didn't know it was Colin."