Isaac and Ryker, the military German shepherds, joined the team. The light of the night sky almost looked like it had a tinge of blue. The silence among them was eerie; the only sound was the chopping, the soft panting of the dogs, and the static on the radio with the odd voice command.
Since this mission was top secret, it was almost as though they had to keep their voices hushed, but in truth, each of them was saying a silent prayer. Nobody had time to reach their families before they departed, and if they had, they would have been forbidden to tell them where they were going.
Three hours later, they landed. They jumped out of the helicopter, moving like cats through the jungle. Their bodies moved with caution and agility, all of their senses raised as they listened for the smallest of movements—a footstep moving through the grass, the click of a gun, a foreign voice.
They crouched low. Eric directed them toward what looked like a large abandoned hut, using hand gestures to signal to the rest of the team he thought their target was in there, taking refuge amongst women and children. It was dark in most places, until they moved into the deeper part of the building, where there was a glow of oil burners.
“US Marines! Where are you hiding, Achmed Sharma?”
A woman screamed, her face and body hidden in layers of cloth. She threw her entire body at Joel. He pushed her backwards and pinned her to the floor. Joel felt himself switch into another gear, the determination of a warrior. His senses heightened to another enemy closing in on him, trying to attack him from behind. He used the gun across Joel’s neck to choke Joel.
Then came the sound of a firearm, the splatter of blood. Joel looked up to see Eric lying face down. He didn’t need to turn him around to know he was already dead because it was clear he had been shot in the head.
A few moments later, there was total darkness. Joel felt his head pulsate. His eyes couldn’t adjust and he felt like he was falling. Then silence.
Chapter 3
Mimi
London, 2011
Mimi couldn’t stand sitting in her tiny, rented one-bedroom flat any longer. She needed to get out, she needed to walk. She grabbed her coat and bundled into it, along with a hat and scarf. She knew that walking the streets at five in the morning wasn’t the best idea. She would most likely encounter a few cats lurking the streets, darting in and out of the shadows, maybe late night shift workers returning home or a drunk staggering though the streets, mumbling and talking gibberish.
She needed to breathe. She had her phone fully charged and tucked safely into her inside pocket so she could feel the vibration of a phone call, email, or text message. She’d set it at full volume, a surefire way to assure nothing would be missed should news come. She didn’t want to hear the voice of a stranger. She wanted to hear Joel’s deep, Texan accent telling her not to worry, that he was just fine.
Mimi looked up to the early morning sky, which was deceptively black when she left her block of flats. She held tightly onto the black steel railings as she walked down the steps to avoid slipping on the ice that glistened on the ground like shiny crystals. The moon was glowing in its crescent shape. One single star twinkled in the blackness.
Please let Joel be safe. Please, God, let him be safe. Please!
Mimi walked for several miles ‘till she was hot and tired. She had to be in the office in just a couple of short hours, but she already decided she couldn’t face it. When she returned to her flat, she logged into her email on her laptop and told her boss she was sick and wouldn’t be able to come in.
She sat quietly on her sofa, cradling a steaming cup of tea in her hand, checking her phone for information every five minutes, feeling irritated at news that didn’t relate to what she was looking for. Unworthy reports—footballers caught cheating, two people arrested in a pub brawl, things that didn’t matter to Mimi.
When dawn finally broke, Mimi had fallen asleep. The sound of her phone buzzing awoke her. She grabbed it, bleary-eyed, as she tried to focus on the caller ID: ‘Unknown.’
Her heart stopped beating as she heard an American accent, a woman. Bombing…Joel Marcus…regret.
***
Mimi arrived at the US Embassy with her mother and her best friend, Meg. She wore a pair of ripped jeans, the first thing she could find on a pile of dirty laundry. Her skin was covered in goose pimples despite the room being hot and stuffy.
The women were ushered to a quiet office, out of sight of the office workers walking in with cups of takeaway coffee in their hands. She caught a glimpse of a Marine’s shoulder. She felt sick, wanting it to be Joel. She had never wanted anything so much.
Two uniformed Marines finally walked in the room. They sat quietly, averting their eyes for a second longer than Mimi thought acceptable. She felt like she was in a dream, a bad nightmare that she would soon wake up from and feel so relieved when she did. Only this wasn’t a dream; this was real and this was the horrible reality she feared ever since Joel had left.
“Mrs. Mimi Marcus?” asked the older of the two men. He had leathery skin and salt and peppered grey hair. He looked like he’d lived a thousand lifetimes, each wrinkle on his face marking a tale to tell. He kept his gaze on her but didn’t look directly into her eyes.
“Yes,” Mimi said. Her voice didn’t sound like her own. She sounded like a little girl.
“We regret to inform you your husband, Sergeant Joel Marcus, was killed in the line of duty yesterday.”
That word again—regret. Regret was a word used when an employer had to inform you that you didn’t get the job.
She felt her mother’s hand on hers. She was gripping Mimi’s hand tightly, as if she could stop her from taking the fall. Somewhere in the room, she could hear the ticking of a clock. Tick…tick…tick.
Mimi was in a spin. She could feel bile in the back of her throat.
He can’t be dead, Mimi told herself. He would have come to her. His ghost would have appeared to her; he wouldn’t just leave her. When they had said “Till death us do part,” she’d imagined them old and grey, dying together or within days of one another, but not now!
“His body, where is his body?” Mimi whispered.
“We have not been able to recover his body. We have confirmed information that Sergeant Marcus was captured and killed.”
“Captured? What do you mean captured?”
“We can’t give you all the information,” the older Marine said.
“I’m his wife. I deserve to know!” Mimi yelled.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Marcus. Truly I am. I know how difficult this must be for you.”
“The hell you do!” she sobbed.
“This is really not acceptable,” Meg interceded. “You need to give Mimi more information. She is his wife. Surely you can see that she has a right to know!”
“I’m sorry for your loss. Truly, Mrs. Marcus, I am.”
A few months before, Joel told her that he was coming back. He had made a promise to her and he hadn’t kept it. She was paralyzed by grief. She couldn’t seem to lift herself off the leather chair she sat in. Meg wrapped her arms around Mimi and pulled her to her feet.
“Come on, honey, let’s get you home.” Her voice was motherly, full of sympathy.
“It’s better for her to come back with me and her dad,” her mother said to Meg. They were talking like Mimi wasn’t in the room.
“No! No!” Mimi squealed. “His body, I need to know where his body is!”
“Mimi, please, don’t do this to yourself,” her mother pleaded.
“My husband is dead. Did you hear them, Mama? Dead. I am not doing anything to myself. I demand to know the details.” She banged her fist into the desk so hard her knuckles felt like they would cut open.
“This is not right!” Mimi cried.
“We will find out the truth, Mimi, we will. I promise, but please let your mother and I look after you.”
“I love him.” Mimi let her tears flow. Her sobs got caught in her throat and her body trembled.
Me
g took her friend in her arms and held her tight.
“I know you do. And he loved you.” Mimi noticed the word loved. Meg was already using the past tense.
The rest of the day went by in a painful blur. Some information was passed on by the Embassy, but nothing that would explain the true details of Joel’s death.
Mimi allowed her family to look after her. Her sister had left work early and driven down from Yorkshire to London to be with her. They made her endless cups of tea which she left to go cold; made her food which she wouldn’t touch; and held her to give her comfort which she couldn’t feel. Even in the cocoon of her family home, she felt exposed to pain.
She had a million questions and no answers. She thought of the person that took her husband’s life. Her heart filled with instant hatred for a person that had no face and no name.
She imagined how Joel died. Did he feel any pain? Did he fight back? Did he beg the faceless killer to spare his life?
“I need to go home.” Mimi began rising from her father’s armchair.
“We think it is better you stay with us, Mimi. Please let us look after you.” Her father tightly gripped her shoulder and pulled her back. Her body immediately turned limp.
Dad was always Mr. Fix-it. When Mimi was younger, if a lightbulb had blown, her dad would fix it. If a tap kept dripping, her dad would fix it. But in this moment, her dad had a defeated look on his face. He knew he would not be able to fix this.
“Wilbur hasn’t had anything to eat,” Mimi said. “He can’t be left alone.”
“I’ll get him. He can stay with me,” Meg reassured her. “You know I love that black and white bag of trouble.”
Mimi nodded.
“My clothes. I need my clothes.”
“I’ll go with Meg to your place and get them,” her sister said, standing up.
Mimi let her body fall onto a cushion on her parent’s sofa. It still had that new smell to it. She heard the clattering of pots and pans coming from the kitchen. Moments later, her mother returned to the room, holding out a small bowl.
“I’m not hungry.” Mimi pushed the steaming bowl of chicken soup away.
“You must eat something, Mimi.”
“I just told you that I am not hungry.”
Mimi used the pillow to conceal the sounds of her shrieking sobs. Her father gently lifted her into his arms. He removed her hair from her hot, sticky, wet face and cradled her just like when she was a child. He rocked her back and forth as the grief poured out of her.
“Shhh. I’m here, Mimi. Daddy is here.”
“He left me. He told me he would be back.”
“He didn’t leave you, Mimi. Not through choice. Joel would’ve never left you through choice.”
Her father took a damp, pink cloth from her mother and wiped her head.
In the late hours of the evening, Mimi fell asleep. The sheer exhaustion of crying made her eyes swell and she had fallen into a slumber. She was still dressed in the same clothes she had worn when she learned Joel had been killed. Her mother brought down a single duvet and placed it over her. Meg and Larna had left to get her things and her cat.
“How will she ever recover from this?” Kanchana whispered to Simon.
“I don’t know. I feel so helpless. I want to make this all go away, but I can’t. He was everything to her, like you are to me.”
Chapter 4
Two weeks later, rain fell heavy against Mimi’s bedroom window. She kept her eyes closed. Her body felt heavy and achy. For a moment, she lay perfectly still and calm. Then she remembered.
Joel was dead and she had to live another day without him.
Thoughts of the faceless killer entered her head once again. Every day a different image, yet the outcome was always the same. The disturbing thoughts poisoned her mind. She didn’t care that she was suffering; it was as if her tears were keeping Joel alive within her. If she cried, it meant the news was still recent. It meant she was closer to the last moment he had held her in his arms rather than time putting distance between them.
Beside her bed was a photo of Joel in his camouflaged uniform, his dog tags resting on his tanned chest. He was smiling in that photo, his sideways profile caught unaware in the moment. Every morning, she picked up the copper framed picture and rested it next to her pillow. She felt like a grieving widow holding onto every single memory of her deceased husband.
She knew she must get herself out of bed and into the world. She knew Joel would have disapproved of her living this way.
She finally pulled herself up and out of bed. She caught sight of herself in the mirror, but she had no idea who was staring back at her. Her long hair was tangled and dry, her face puffy and blotchy. She didn’t like what she saw. Joel had loved how well she had always taken care of herself, but here, without him, everything seemed pointless.
She drifted into the shower. She let the hot water wash over her body and rubbed her raspberry shower gel into her skin.
She stayed in the shower long enough for the hot water to run cold. She stepped out and wrapped a heated towel tightly around her frail body. The mirror revealed another unfamiliar image. Every single one of her ribs was visible. She had barely eaten; food had lost its flavour. It all seemed so pointless.
She heard the sound of her buzzer. At first she ignored it until it became clear that the consistent noise was not going to go away.
“Yes,” Mimi said into the intercom.
“Mimi, it’s me. Let me in.”
“Meg, I’m tired.”
“I don’t care. Let me up,” Meg’s static voice demanded.
Moments later, Meg was at the door. Her blonde hair was neatly pulled back into a bun, her makeup applied perfectly. She looked around Mimi’s flat and didn’t hide her disapproval at the mounds of dirty laundry, unwashed cups, and photos of Joel strewn all over the floor.
Mimi had spent her days walking the streets, wandering aimlessly with nowhere to go. The rest of the time she spent pulling out photos of them both.
“Mimi, we need to get this place in order,” Meg said, her voice full of concern.
“Why?”
“Because living like this is not healthy.” Meg sat on the arm of the sofa, pulling out a wet towel from underneath her.
“He wanted a photo of Wilbur. I was going to send it in my next letter to him, but I forgot.”
“Don’t punish yourself. These things happen.”
“These things?” Mimi raised an eyebrow.
“You know what I mean, Mimi.”
“I don’t want to keep living. Not without Joel.”
“I can’t imagine what you are going through. Really, Mimi, I can’t. We are all so worried about the way you are living right now. It’s not good.”
“It’s been two weeks, Meg. Two weeks since my husband was killed. Am I not allowed to cry and live like a bum and, dare I say it…grieve?”
“Yes, of course you are, but not forever.”
Mimi felt a wave of anger flush over her.
She looked at her friend and wanted her out of her sight, away from her. Meg had never had a relationship for longer than a few weeks. She flitted from man to man. She grew tired and bored of relationships easily, so how would she ever understand the feelings you needed to be so in love that you promised the rest of your lives to one another?
Mimi felt insulted that Meg was telling her to get it together after such a short time.
“Do you know he can’t even have a proper funeral because there is no body?”
“Mimi, I’m sorry. You’re right. I’m expecting you to snap out of something that just happened to you. I don’t deal with death too well and I should be more supportive of you.”
“Yes, you should,” Mimi whispered.
“Come out this afternoon. Let me look after you. We can go for a drive to that little tea room in Hertfordshire that you love. Joel would want you to.”
“I really don’t feel like it.”
“Come on, Mimi. For Joel.”<
br />
“Okay, I will. Let me just get dressed and come back for me in a couple of hours.”
“I’ll call you when I’m outside.”
When Meg left, Mimi looked around her. She knew she needed to get out and feel something other than grief. Her head was heavy. It felt like it had its own pulse. Her eyes felt as if weights were attached to them.
Just as Mimi was getting dressed, she saw a Facebook message pop up on her screen. The name “Joel” jumped out at her. Her legs felt like jelly. She clicked on the message from Austin. Joel’s brother had gotten in touch.
***
Two perfect fine bone china cups were placed in front of Mimi and Meg. They sat in the far corner of the tea room located off a beaten track. Meg swirled the tea leafs around the pot and poured.
“So, how much do you know about Austin?” Meg asked. She took a sip of the tea and squeezed her blue eyes shut as it was too hot.
“Nothing. Well, only what Joel told me. They haven’t spoken properly since his mother died.”
“Hmm, bad blood?”
“From what Joel told me, Austin was a real homebody and he felt betrayed when Joel left to join the Marines. I guess he felt abandoned. I don’t know.”
“Do you want to know?” Meg said, moving forward.
“I always wanted to know about Joel’s childhood. He knew all of me, but I guess I only knew Joel the US Marine. He always lived for the here and now, but I love memories. I loved how he knew Larna. Somehow, Larna and I sharing our adventures when we were younger came back to life when he sat at the dinner table with my family. I wished I’d had that with Joel.”
“Did you ever ask to meet his brother?”
“I did. But Austin refused to come to our wedding. I think, after that, Joel let go.”
“And now?”
Mimi looked at her friend, unsure as to what she was asking.
The waitress came and placed two warm scones with cream and jam in front of them. Mimi looked at them and picked one up. She took a small bite.
Till Death Us Do Part Page 3
