by Daniel Hurst
But then the screen turns on and I see only static. I press several buttons on the remote to try and get it working, but nothing happens. There must be a fault with the connection somewhere.
I check to make sure all the plugs are in and the digital box is turned on, but other than that, I have no idea what else to do to get it working. I’m not technical. I’ll have to get Adam to have a look at it when he wakes up. Maybe Kat disconnected it after their last visit, although I don’t recall her doing that when we visited here before.
I pour myself a glass of water from the kitchen tap and then sink down onto one of the sofas, turning off the television when the sight of the static starts to infuriate me. It feels weird to be completely cut off from the world without phones or television, and I think about how some people pay good money for this kind of “experience” while I’m getting it for free. Unfortunately, I don’t want it. I’d much rather be able to surf the internet and flick through the TV channels because then I would be able to find out what is going on in the world.
I’d be able to find out if anybody is looking for us.
I check the time on the cooker and see that it is 07:25 and I feel a little annoyed that Adam isn’t awake, as well as surprised that he has been able to sleep at all. I expected that I would struggle to get some rest, but my pregnancy fatigue probably helped take care of that. But I’m amazed that Adam has been able to quieten his mind enough to sleep considering what he experienced last night. I’m glad he is getting some rest because tiredness isn’t going to help any of us over the coming days, but it’s a little weird that he hasn’t been up all night running the incident over in his head. If I’d killed a man, no matter how it had happened, I don’t think I’d ever be able to sleep again.
I decide to go and wake my husband, mainly because I’m bored, stressed and unable to find any answers from the dodgy TV, but also because I want to talk to him and make sure that he is alright. He might have been pretending to be asleep.
Maybe he has actually been up all night worrying.
I walk back into the bedroom again and see my husband where I left him, lying under the duvet with his head on the pillow and his eyes closed. I watch him for a moment until I am certain that he is asleep before gently reaching out for his hand and giving it a slight squeeze.
Adam wakes up peacefully, not at all like how I came back into consciousness after my nightmare. Then he smiles at me when he sees me standing beside him, and for a second, it’s as if everything is alright in the world. Then he looks around at the room behind me and he remembers where he is and why we are here.
His smile quickly fades.
He’s back to reality.
At least I’m not alone anymore.
11
LAURA
‘I should have packed better,’ Adam says after a quick check inside every food bag we have tells him that there is nothing in the cottage to have for breakfast unless we want pasta or soup, which we don’t.
‘We can always pop to the village,’ I reply as I continue to press the buttons on the remote control. ‘Can you come and look at this first?’
Adam leaves the kitchen and joins me by the TV screen, which is still showing us nothing but static.
‘I don’t understand why it’s not working,’ I say as I thrust the remote into his hands and hope for him to perform miracles with it. The longer we are cut off from the outside world, the more I feel my anxiety levels rising. At least if we can see the news then we can find out how much trouble we are in. Until then, I have nothing but my imagination to deal with, and things are always worse there.
‘I wonder if they’ve disconnected it from somewhere,’ Adam says as he checks behind the TV. ‘Maybe they do it to save power when they’re not here.’
‘That’s what I thought,’ I reply. ‘But they don’t usually do that, do they? We need to get it working. Without our phones, it’s the only other way we have of knowing if the police are looking for you.’
‘Yes, I know that,’ Adam snaps.
‘Well, I’m just saying,’ I snap back, but my grim reminder causes Adam to go quiet again, and I regret saying it, even if it’s what we were both thinking anyway. But I decide not to say anything more and allow Adam to work in silence as he continues to fiddle around with the cables and switches behind the television set.
But my high hopes to get the TV working are extinguished after several minutes of huffing and puffing when Adam gives up and shakes his head.
‘I’ll have to go and have a look outside. Maybe it’s something to do with the satellite dish.’
‘Okay,’ I sigh, feeling like we can’t catch a break anywhere right now.
‘But first, we need to get some proper food into you. I’m going to go into the village and get some things, and I can check the news while I’m there.’
‘Can you try and fix the television before you go?’ I ask, a hint of desperation in my voice. ‘It’s just I have nothing to do without that and my phone.’
‘I could, but I don’t know how long that will take. I’m starving, and I’m sure you are too. I’ll be there and back within an hour or so, and I’ll look at fixing the TV then. Okay?’
‘I’ll come with you,’ I suggest, getting up off the sofa.
‘No,’ Adam says, shaking his head. ‘You need to rest.’
‘I’m fine.’
‘I’d prefer it if you stayed.’
‘Why?’
‘Because you’re nine months pregnant and you shouldn’t be doing anything now except putting your feet up.’
‘I’m not staying here on my own with nothing to do!’
‘There is plenty to do. How about you read a book?’
Adam gestures to the bookcase in the corner that is filled with several chunky paperbacks which might have looked appealing if I was in a different mindset but are the last thing that I want to be busying myself with right now.
‘I can’t concentrate on a damn book!’ I cry. ‘Have you forgotten why we are here? There could be a hundred police officers out there looking for us, and you expect me to curl up on the sofa and lose myself in fiction?’
‘I’m sorry. You’re right,’ Adam replies. ‘But I do want you to stay here and rest. How about putting some music on? You might be able to drift off.’
‘I don’t want to drift off! I just want to go home!’
‘I know you do but we can’t!’
Adam’s raised voice catches me off guard, and I fall quiet. He’s never been one to shout during our entire relationship. The fact he has just done so tells me how much stress he is really under, and I feel bad for thinking that he was okay with everything just because he was able to get some sleep. He’s clearly feeling the pressure of this situation just as much as I am.
‘Okay. I’ll stay here,’ I say, holding up my hands. ‘But don’t be long. Just get what we need, check the newspapers and come straight back.’
‘Will do,’ Adam replies as he walks over to the kitchen table where our bags are currently sitting.
I watch him thumb through a couple of the £20 notes he put into his wallet last night before he puts on his jacket and comes over to say goodbye.
‘I’ll be as quick as I can,’ he tells me as he kisses me on my forehead. ‘And then I’ll be back to cook us a hearty breakfast.’
He leans down and kisses my stomach too, and even though I roll my eyes at his display of affection, it makes me feel happy. I know that everything will be alright as long as the three of us can stay together.
The question is, can we?
I watch Adam walk out of the front door and then I hear the sound of the car engine outside. I go to the window and watch him drive away from the cottage, the vehicle trundling along down the small dirt track that leads back towards the main road that will take him into the village. I feel nervous to see him go, but I tell myself that he will be back soon and that everything is somehow going to be alright. But I’ve never been particularly good at predicting the fut
ure.
If I was then I’d have known then that things were only going to get worse from that moment on.
12
ADAM
It’s a twenty-five-minute drive down the hill to the nearest village to the cottage, but I’m prepared for a journey that is going to last a little longer than that. With that in mind, I turn on the radio in search of some music to accompany me on my trip.
I’m a little out of range up here from the stations that I would normally listen to so I have to fiddle around a bit with the buttons until I’m able to eventually get on the frequency of one of the local ones. A cheery pop song suddenly fills the car, and while I wouldn’t usually go for this kind of music, I’m actually in the mood for its upbeat melody right now. That’s because life is good, and when that is the case, music only makes things even better.
I turn off the dirt track that has taken me away from the cottage and pull out onto the main road, but I’m not going in the direction of the village. Instead, I’m headed back towards the city.
I’m headed for home.
I turn the music up even louder as the car picks up speed and I’m even singing along to the few words that I know. I can’t remember the last time I found myself singing, but I know it’s been a while. It’s not really the kind of thing you do when you’re unhappy so that might explain it. But now I’m as happy as I’ve been in a long time, so singing just feels like the right thing to do.
As I press down on the accelerator, I think about my wife sitting in my sister’s cottage waiting for me to return. I have no doubt that she will be mad at me for being gone for so long when I get back, but I’ll have an explanation for that, and if that doesn’t work then the supplies of food will hopefully pacify her in the end.
I wonder what she is going to do to pass the time while I’m away and she was right when she said there aren’t many options. Our phones are off-limits, and even if she did turn hers on, the lack of a signal at the cottage doesn’t allow for sending and receiving messages and checking the internet. Nor does the broken television allow for any checking of the news channels or at least a little entertainment in the way of a film or a soap opera. But that’s only because I turned off the switch on the back of the TV last night when we first arrived at the cottage after Laura had gone to bed. The television won’t work until that switch goes back on and I’m not planning on doing that any time soon. Therefore, there isn’t much to do in that cottage other than read a book, sleep or stare out of the window, and that’s exactly how I need it to be.
It won’t do me any favours to have Laura keeping abreast of the news, so that is why I have made sure she is completely cut off from the world. The only news she will have will be the information I drip feed to her whenever I get back from my “trips into the village.” I will make sure she knows only what I want her to, and not a single thing more. This is my world now, and my wife is just living in it.
I keep my foot on the accelerator and overtake a slower vehicle ahead of me, but I take care not to go over the speed limit. I don’t want to get pulled over by the police now.
It’s not long until I’m back within range of the usual radio stations I listen to and then I’m able to find songs that I know even more words to. By the time I leave the quiet country roads behind and return to the busier streets, I’m singing my heart out.
I bring the car to a stop at a set of traffic lights, but I continue to belt out the words along with the radio, and I notice the woman in the car beside me glance in my direction and smile. I worry for a second that I have drawn too much attention to myself, but I figure it will be okay. There’s not much chance of this driver remembering my face. I’m just a guy in the car singing along to the radio. Not perfectly memorable, I imagine, and that’s just fine by me.
The light changes from red, to amber, to green and I’m on the move again, driving through the streets I know so well. I’m only around ten minutes from our house, but I won’t be going there just yet. Instead, I’m heading for the large building that overlooks the park, two streets over from here. It’s a building that I’ve never been inside before, but I’ve driven past it plenty of times, as well as seen it on numerous news reports on TV over the years. I know exactly what goes on in that building and the kinds of people who work there. I even know one of those people intimately, but that’s a story for another day. For now, I’m focused on the task at hand.
I indicate left then turn onto the street that will bring me to my final destination. A quick check on the clock on the dashboard tells me that it only took me twenty-three minutes to get here. I’m hoping I’ll be in and out of this place within the hour and then I can get myself back to where Laura is waiting for me at the cottage, after picking up a few food supplies of course. She’ll ask me what took me so long and I’ll lie to her, blaming it on a big queue in the supermarket, a farmer’s tractor blocking the road and a need to check multiple newspapers for any reports of the hit and run before I was able to return. It will be all lies, of course, but I can hardly tell her where I have really gone.
I turn into the large car park and bring my car to a stop in one of the few free spots closest to the door. Then I hop out of my vehicle, lock the door and make my way towards the steps that will take me straight inside the police station.
13
LAURA
Where is my husband? He’s been gone ages.
I started off being furious at him for taking so long to come back to me, but the more time that passes, the more I am beginning to worry. What if the police have arrested him? What if he’s already on his way to the station for the hit and run? And what if I’m stuck up here for days now until somebody comes and gets me?
I’m trying not to panic for several reasons. One, because I don’t want to think of poor Adam being wrapped in handcuffs and whisked away to an interrogation room where he will be grilled by a couple of gnarly detectives who are eager to put him behind bars for the next ten years of his life. And two, because I’m petrified that any overreaction of emotion on my part might lead to me going into labour early and that would be an absolute disaster right now considering that I’m on my own in the middle of nowhere.
Telling myself for the hundredth time to stay calm and take a deep breath, I move away from the window and retreat back to the sofa. I’ve been up and down for the last half an hour checking to see if there is any sign of Adam’s car on the dirt track outside but every time that I look out, I am disappointed when I don’t see it. But it won’t do me any good to worry. I need something to take my mind off things.
My eyes land on the bookcase and I walk over to it, deciding that I might as well try and read a couple of pages of something because it’s either that or pace around the room some more. I run my finger along the spines of the books on the shelf and look for something that appeals to me, but there isn’t anything here that I would like to read. The type of fiction Adam’s sister likes to lose herself in is very different from the type I like. I’m more into gritty crime stories whereas she is a fan of much tamer fiction where the crimes never get more serious than somebody stealing a couple of cakes from the local bakery. I’m not sure why Kat enjoys those books so much. I like my fictional mysteries to be solved by somebody a little more grizzled than an elderly woman with six cats. I believe they call the genre ‘cozy mystery’, but whatever it’s called, it’s not the kind of thing for me.
Walking away from the bookshelf, I find myself back at the window again, but there is still no sign of my husband returning from his trip. Something has to be wrong. This has taken far too long.
Unable to stand being stuck helplessly inside the cottage for a minute longer, I put on my shoes and grab my coat, heading for the door and hoping that a hit of fresh air will prevent me from having a nervous breakdown.
I feel the drop in temperature immediately as I step outside the front door and look up at the grey sky. It looks like it might rain, but that’s the least of my worries. I can handle getting wet. What I ca
n’t handle is doing nothing while my husband is potentially out there in trouble.
I ensure that I have my mobile in my pocket before striding away from the cottage and onto the dirt track that will lead to the main road. I’m not exactly sure how far I will have to go until I am able to pick up a phone signal, but I’m going to keep walking until I find one.
I sidestep several large puddles as I walk, as well as avoiding the muddier parts of the path, doing my best not to ruin my trainers or worse, end up face down on the floor after slipping and tripping. It takes me about ten minutes, but I’m finally approaching the gate that leads to the main road when I hear the car engine approaching.
I pause and keep my eyes on the road ahead, praying that it is Adam returning from the village. I won’t even be mad at how long he has been gone at this point. I’ll just be glad to have him back.
I keep watching and silently praying as the engine gets louder until I see the vehicle emerge from behind several trees and turn onto the dirt track towards me.
It’s Adam! He’s back!
I feel a sudden sense of relief at the sight of my husband driving towards me, and I wave him down as I walk towards the vehicle, not that there is any danger of him missing me as he drives up to the cottage.
He brings the car to a stop as he reaches me, and I rush around to his door as he winds down his window.
‘What are you doing outside?’ he asks me with a look of concern on his face.
‘I thought something had happened to you. You’ve been gone ages,’ I reply, starting to feel a few raindrops landing on my head.
‘Get in the car. Let’s get you back inside before it chucks it down,’ Adam says, and I’m only too happy to agree. I barely make it back into the passenger seat beside him before the heavens open and the rain comes down hard on top of this hill.
The windscreen wipers are working overtime as Adam drives us slowly back towards the cottage, and I want to ask him why he has taken so long to get back, but I decide to let him concentrate on the dirt track ahead until we are back inside. The main thing is that he is here and he seems okay, so I guess all my fears of him being arrested and thrown into jail were unfounded.
