by Peter Martin
He moved across to her and saw she was building another website. What was she up to now?
‘It’s Alan’s idea. To set up a new website and help group for missing teenagers, and kids even younger than that. People from all over will be able to put on notices and messages about their missing loved ones. Lots more people will visit the site and find out about us and Tim. There’ll be a facility to swap stories and opinions via a forum. The main page of the site will show pictures of all the young people missing. Click on one, and the picture enlarges, then click again to get the text about that person…’
‘Sounds like a great idea; sort of the next step up from Tim’s own site?’ Bob surmised.
‘Yes, that’s right. And Tim’s photo will be one of the first on the site.’
‘I admire your tenacity love - it ought to yield something through that alone.’ But in truth he feared she was now wasting her time.
Maria enjoyed hearing his praise, but still wondered whether it was genuine. And although she longed for his support her gut feeling told her he was losing interest. And abruptly turning to stare at him said ‘Like I keep saying, I won’t give up on our son, not now not ever.’
Bob smiled, but didn’t comment, obviously knowing it would cause a row between them.
But Maria could clearly see straight through his attitude and realised her comment had either gone right over his head or he chose to ignore it.
As the days passed, Maria grew tired of having to sit for Alan. Every other day she was over at his house for an hour, and could imagine what the neighbours were thinking, heaven forbid – but well, let them. She knew the truth, and Bob trusted her completely. Soon the painting would be on show, should anyone doubt their liaisons were purely on a professional basis. Although she had to admit, to her, his progress was almost at snails’ pace. But then perhaps he was putting the finishing touches to the picture, and was like this with all his work. That being the case it was a miracle he made any money.
She’d stopped asking to see the painting because the answer was always the same – not until it was completely finished. Maybe it would be worth waiting for in the end.
Then one Friday afternoon three weeks later, after yet another gruelling session, Alan smiled, raising his eyebrows saying, ‘All right that’s enough, let’s call it a day.’
And glad to have it over with and wanting to go home straightaway Maria replied, ‘I’ll see you Monday then Alan. Same time?’
‘You will do, but not for another sitting - the picture’s finished so far as you’re concerned. I’ve only to put the usual coats of varnish on. So come Monday afternoon it will be time for the grand unveiling.’
‘Oh at last!’ she exclaimed. ‘I can hardly wait.’
‘Hope you like it.’
‘I’m sure I’ll love it.’
Over the weekend she was careful not to mention the painting to Bob because she wanted it to be a surprise. How she’d stopped herself from telling him she didn’t know. But as things turned out it was just as well she’d been discreet.
Three o’clock on the Monday afternoon, having had a phone call from Alan earlier, and feeling giddy with excitement, she knocked on his front door. He came quickly to open the door, grinning from ear to ear; probably aware of how eager she’d be.
‘Mm,’ he said looking into her eyes. ‘I suppose you’d like to come in, wouldn’t you?’
‘You know I would.’
‘Well, you’d better come through, my dear.’ He allowed her to walk past him into the house. ‘I’ve got to say, this is the most nerve wracking time for me. If the customer likes the picture, I’m over the moon, but if they don’t I’m devastated. The trouble is I can’t gauge people’s reactions. All I can do is hope for the best.’
With that he led her through to the conservatory where he had the picture perched on the easel, a black silk cloth covering it.
‘All right, Maria, like a drink before I do the honours?’ He joked.
She shook her head realising what he was up to.
‘A bite to eat perhaps?’
She shook her head again.
‘Well, I’d better get on with it, hadn’t I?’
‘You better had.’
Alan walked straight across to the painting and without hesitation whipped away the silk cloth to reveal the picture in all its glory.
Straightaway Maria realised how good this was. Every minute detail of Tim’s smiling handsome face was there. However, when she looked closer at her own image (not that it didn’t look like her), her eyes appeared larger and bluer, and the nose smaller. Surely I don’t look that good, Maria thought, and he’s painted me without a wrinkle or blemish on my face. Absolutely stunning. The man was a genius. Her musings were interrupted when Alan said, ‘So what are your thoughts?’ He’d obviously noticed her widening eyes glued to the painting.
‘I’m speechless.’
‘You don’t like it – do you?’ He went a little red in the face.
Maria suddenly got very emotional – floods of tears came into her eyes.
‘Hey, it’s not that bad, is it?’
‘No, not at all. It’s absolutely wonderful – it’s as if you’ve brought Tim back to life.’ She wept unashamedly.
He moved to her at once, took her in his arms and held her tightly, obviously hoping this would make her better.
‘Come on my dear, I know how you feel. Everything will be all right, I promise you. I’m here for you,’ he whispered to her, as he kissed first the top of her forehead, then her cheeks where her tears had trickled.
She slumped against him, his painting had evoked in her the thought that he was possibly the only person in the world who understood how she felt.
Finally she pulled herself together and moved away from him saying ‘Surely you don’t see me how you’ve painted me.’ But as she glanced up, she saw a longing in his eyes that hadn’t been apparent before. He either hadn’t heard her comment or chose to ignore it, making her shiver in the tense atmosphere, so she added quickly, ‘I can’t wait to show Bob.’
He stared at her strangely, ‘You think he’ll have the foggiest idea what it’s all about? And does he feel the same as you and I do about our respective children?’
‘I don’t understand what you mean,’ she said uneasily.
‘I’ve put so much effort into this, spent weeks from morning till night getting it exactly right for you – and you want to waste it on him. It should have pride of place in a home where we could be together.’
At first Maria wondered if she had heard him right. She’d never seen him like this before, but then recollected his suggestion of painting her nude, and connected the two.
‘Debra doesn’t want to know me anymore. She’s been cold towards me ever since our daughter died and now she won’t even let me touch her. Have you any idea what that’s done to me – the rejection and of being unloved? But you and I are on the same wave length, I’ve noticed it since the moment you started sitting for me. We worked well on the website and would make a great team. Come away with me Maria, we can be happy together through all of this, I know we can.’
She needed to get out of here quickly, and found it hard to breathe, as she’d never expected him to act this way.
‘You shouldn’t be talking like this Alan, it’s not right. You’re not well, maybe it’s stressed you out thinking about your daughter – it’s become too much for you. Please calm down and try to relax. Just tell me how much I owe you and I’ll be on my way.’
‘You don’t owe me anything. I want you to have it as a present.’
Maria looked away from him, frightened over what he might do next. ‘Goodbye Alan.’
‘No,’ he insisted. ‘I can’t let you go like this. You don’t understand, not any of it. You know why Debra hates me like she does?’
‘Not exactly but really I don’t want to hear the gory details. That’s between you and her.’
She started to step slowly backwards, carrying the painting in front
of her, as if was a shield.
‘No, it’s because I killed her – that’s why. I killed my own little girl. Can you believe that?’ He cried, his face screwed up in pain.
‘What are you talking about now?’
‘That’s how she died. Oh my God, I was in my car, late for some meeting and I reversed out too quickly. I didn’t see her I swear, but I ran right over her,’ he sobbed.
Maria pulled her other hand through her thick hair, gasping at this incredible revelation.
‘She’s never forgiven me, blames me totally – but she won’t leave me. She torments me with it all the time. But with you I could finally get away from her, and free myself of the awful guilt that almost strangles me to death.’
‘I don’t want to hear this. I’ve got enough on my plate without this from you as well? I’ll send you a cheque for what the painting’s worth but after that I never want to see you again.’ With that she turned round and dashed through the hall to the front door and out of the house.
She hoped to God he wouldn’t follow, and thankfully he didn’t. She hurried forward breathing hard, unable to believe the way Alan had acted towards her. There had been no prior warning, they got on so well but now she wouldn’t be able to be in his company again. She fumbled with her front door key, but once she was inside she locked the door securely behind her.
Then in the privacy of her own living room, having put the picture down by the side of the wall, she stood there, a quivering wreak. She had felt sorry for what the man had endured, but she could never add more complications to her already stressful sad life.
Chapter 18
Bob finished work early that Monday night. In fact everyone finished work early due to tenpin bowling that evening. Toni had said she looked forward to meeting Maria and promised to do everything she could to make her feel at home.
This would be their first night out together in other company since their evening with Debra and Alan. Getting out of the car, Bob was quite relaxed, confident the coming night would be a success. If she got through this, it might help her get her life together again.
But as he walked into the living room he sensed a tense atmosphere, when she didn’t even glance in his direction. Alarm bells began to ring, and he was left surmising what was wrong now. He stroked the back of his neck and plonked himself down beside her, saying, ‘All right love?’
‘Fine,’ she said in a very unemotional way, without looking at him.
‘Something wrong?’
‘No, why should there be?’
‘You look like you’ve had some bad news. Nothing to do with Tim is it?’
‘No. I phoned the police when I got back with the painting.’ She nodded towards the wall opposite; where she’d left the painting leaning against it. ‘There are no new developments. So I don’t know whether no news is good or bad news.’
So that was it, her sombre mood was due to the investigation being at a standstill. ‘Its soul destroying, isn’t it love? Mind if I take a peek at the picture?’
‘Go ahead.’
He picked it up, turned it round and gazed at it. His eyes widened with awe.
‘Phew, can this guy paint. It’s absolutely fantastic of both you and Tim. Amazing how he’s captured you both so well.’
She smiled. ‘Bob, would you be upset if I didn’t come out with you tonight?’
Bob’s mouth dropped open. ‘No, of course not, but why don’t you want to come? I was really looking forward to it.’
‘I’m not well, I’ve got a splitting headache,’ she told him, massaging her brow with her fingers.
‘But we’d agreed. Maria, please try to put Tim to one side for a night. We’ll have a good time – I promise you.’
‘It’s not open for discussion. My head’s throbbing, so I’m not going, and that’s all there is to it – all right?’
Bob breathed in deeply, finding it hard not to lose his temper, but knew better than to argue with her. He couldn’t understand her attitude. But if this was what she wanted, fine.
‘So what am I supposed to do now?’
‘Go on your own if you’re that keen.’
‘That’s going to look good – isn’t it?’
‘Bob, for God’s sake just go, will you?’
He sighed, lifted up his hands, unsure of what to do, but in her present frame of mind, perhaps he’d be better off going alone.
‘All right I’ll go, being as I’m part of the company’s team, but I won’t stop long,’ he promised her.
‘Whatever!’
So after a light meal Bob went upstairs to wash and change, cold sweat trickled down his back, afraid of what was troubling her. She should have been in a good mood now the painting was finished, but obviously not. It would really put a damper on his night out, but he couldn’t face spending another night with Maria in a black mood.
He came downstairs dressed in jeans and the light blue jumper Maria had bought him for his birthday. She was lying down on the sofa, watching television.
‘I’m going now love. Sure you won’t change your mind.’
She shook her head.
‘All right, see you later.’ And off he went.
‘Ok,’ she mumbled.
Sitting in the car, he felt tense, and also a little sick. Everyone would fire questions at him as to why Maria hadn’t come. He’d just have to deal with it.
They were all due to meet in the bowling alley car park. And as he parked the car he saw his work colleagues standing in a group by the main entrance of the building.
Already on edge because of Maria’s behaviour he was nervous, and having got out of the car as he walked towards them he felt awkward.
Some of the faces in the group he didn’t recognise, they must be his colleagues’ spouses, he thought. Then looking for a friendly face he caught sight of Toni, as she walked over to him.
‘Hey, what’s happened to Maria?’ She said at once, much to Bob’s dismay.
‘She’s got a bad migraine.’
‘Oh, what a shame. So why didn’t you stay with her?’
‘I wanted to, but she insisted I should come. Didn’t want me to let you lot down. I shan’t stop too long though.’
‘We’ll have to rearrange the teams in that case, but never mind eh.’
They all went inside then, Toni, Bob and Dave Whelan, another friend, walked together. Dave also sat in front Bob at work and had been quite friendly helping him settle in. He was about thirty, but with his shaven head and podgy features, looked older. Chris Hutchins, Bob’s immediate department head followed behind, he was thin and bespectacled, aged about fifty. All were with their respective partners, except for Toni, who according to Dave Whelan had split from her boyfriend because of his womanising ways.
Before long a lane became available and so the team, consisting of Bob, Dave, Chris and Toni, pitted against a team from another insurance company. Chris and Dave were the stars while sadly Toni who wasn’t used to playing failed miserably. As for Bob, he just couldn’t get his game together at all. They managed to beat their opponents by only the smallest of margins.
Bob slumped down in his seat, next to Toni, who tried to make light of the fact she was hopeless. To her it was a big joke – she even bought the first round of drinks, her way of saying sorry for almost losing them the match. But for Dave and Chris it was a more serious matter, they all but claimed to have won the match on their own.
Having other things on his mind, Bob found it difficult to join in. Then obviously sensing something was wrong Toni tried to bring him into the conversation by saying, ‘I thought you were supposed to be a good player.’
‘I am normally. But I’m not with it tonight.’
She moved a little closer towards him, saying, ‘Is there something else on your mind, Bob?’
‘Yes, well I don’t like to burden you with my problems; you have enough of your own.’
‘I don’t mind if you want to tell me what’s bothering you. Whatever you tell me will b
e strictly between you and me – I promise.’
He sighed, wanting to talk about this to her, but had no idea where to start.
‘Come on, a problem shared is a problem halved.’
‘All right... all right... like I’ve said at work, it’s Maria, she’s getting me down… ’ and while the others were talking among themselves on the next table he began, and for half an hour he told her more about Maria and their son’s disappearance.
Toni listened intently, seeming genuinely interested and concerned. ‘I feel so sorry for both of you. To have your son go missing like that is bound to affect even the strongest of people.’
‘I’ve suffered myself, but Tim went missing months ago and if he was coming back, he’d have done so by now. I want us to get on with the rest of our lives, instead of constantly dwelling on our son, but she won’t let it go. And now to top it all, she appears to be getting more than friendly with the guy next door.’
‘You’re joking!’ Toni said, her eyes widening, and her eyebrows raised.
‘No, I’m not. It’s that painter Alan. Ok, so his painting of my son and wife is out of this world, but she’s been going round his house to sit for him for weeks – surely it wouldn’t have taken him that long to paint the picture. I trust her, but I must admit the longer it’s gone on, the more uneasy I’ve got. It’s just as well he’s finished the painting now. You see the guy lost a daughter himself and they’ve been swapping sob stories. Not only that, but they’ve set up a website together, a missing person’s bureau that helps find kids who’ve disappeared. It’s a good idea, but maybe her headache was an excuse to see him,’ he speculated.
‘Hey, hey you’ve got no proof of that. It could be your mind playing tricks on you.’
He shook his head and suddenly felt jealousy burning him up inside. She’d spent more time with Alan than she had with him. No wonder she didn’t want to go to work.
‘Why don’t you ask her Bob?’
‘You’ve joking, aren’t you? She’d deny it. Then go absolutely mental at me for even daring to suggest such a thing.’
‘It’s hard to know what to think. Talk to her about this obsession of hers. Make the effort, no matter what it takes. You might be surprised at what you find out,’ she told him.
