The radio droned away somewhere beneath the level of Mark’s consciousness. It lulled his drink-blurred mind into a dangerously sleepy state. The wheels began an infinitesimal drift across the highway, as he slipped further and further into his reveries. An ear-shattering blast from the horn of an approaching semi-trailer startled Mark into instant alertness. With a mighty effort he wrenched the steering wheel sideways, narrowly missing the oncoming vehicle. Mark surprised himself with his calm response to this near-miss. Had he reacted seconds later, he would most certainly have collided head-on with the truck. Under normal circumstances such an incident would have left him shocked and shaken. Instead it left him thanking his lucky stars for the gift of life. After all, thought Mark, he now had everything to live for. It occurred to him that a few weeks ago, he may have even welcomed death, such was his despair. He pondered his mortality. What effect, he wondered, would his death have had on the various people in his life?
Mark realised that the other Partners at his accounting practice would waste little time in replacing him. Capable as he was, he was certainly not indispensable. Anyway, the relationship he shared with his colleagues was one of cutthroat rivalry. Maybe they would be glad to get rid of him. His mother would only say ‘I told you so’. She’d predicted nothing but disaster for him since he hooked-up with Helen. The funeral would give her a magnificent excuse for a party, where she would legitimately be the main object of attention and sympathy. How she would love that! He smiled and felt a little mean for depriving his mother of her moment of glory. His father was a different matter. He had at times attempted to get closer to his son and Mark was genuinely grateful for that, even though neither of them knew quite how to achieve it. Still, his Dad had tried, and that was what mattered. He felt sure his father would miss him and this thought pleased Mark.
What about Beth? She would be sorry then, that she had been so cold to him. He could picture her face dissolving into inconsolable sorrow at the terrible news, and his poor children, shattered and lost at the death of their father. He rather enjoyed the thought of Beth in mourning and filled with regret for rejecting him. Yes, she sure would be sorry then. Apart from everything else, he still supported them financially. Beth had only her piddling part time job at the riding school. She relied on his child support. It occurred to him that she remained the sole beneficiary of his substantial life-insurance policy. He never got around to revising it when they separated. This realisation afforded him immense satisfaction. It was a source of pride to him that he would be there to support his family, even after death. His thoughts turned to Helen and his positive mood evaporated. Of course she also would be devastated by his death. Her ride on the gravy-train would well and truly be over then. The thought of dealing with an angry Helen at home almost made him wish he was dead already. Anything would be better than the living hell of this relationship.
It was early evening before Mark arrived back at the house. Despite its grand design and luxurious furnishings, Mark suddenly understood that the place had never really felt like home to him. He was hopeful at first that Helen might have taken herself off to bed early, in a huff. Unlocking the door quietly, he crept in to avoid disturbing her. It was soon evident however, that his girlfriend and baby were not home.
The shrill ring of the phone interrupted the silence. It was Vanessa, Mark’s mother.
“Wherever have you been? I’ve left five messages.”
Mark remembered that he and Helen had promised to pop around to his parent’s that evening for Christmas supper. Hurriedly he made his excuses. The last thing he needed right now was his mother on his back.
“Sorry Mum. I don’t think we can make it. Chance has a bit of a temperature.”
“Does he! And just exactly how would you know that?” asked his mother in a voice dripping with sarcasm.
Mark knew he was caught out in his lie. Confused, he remained silent.
“You don’t know, do you?” Vanessa continued.
Mark still didn’t speak.
“Chance is here, with us. You and Helen must come over immediately to collect him. He completely ruined our Christmas luncheon.”
Mark could indeed hear the baby crying in the background and his confusion grew. If Chance was at his parent’s, why wasn’t Helen there as well? His silence only served to further infuriate his mother.
“Mark! Are you still there? Put Helen on. Your father is off chasing around for a chemist open on Christmas day to buy baby formula, of all things. Lord knows, she only left enough for two feeds and that has long gone.”
After a lengthy, uncomfortable pause, Mark finally spoke.
“Helen isn’t here.”
It was Vanessa’s turn to be speechless.
“What happened Mum?” Mark asked, his seeming calm belying his growing anger.
“Why, don’t you know? Helen left the baby with us this afternoon. She said you two had an argument and needed to sort things out. You mean she didn’t go home?”
“No,” answered Mark bluntly.
“Then you had better come and get your son yourself. He just won’t settle and I am at my wit’s end. You know I’ve never been good with babies.”
This was true. Mark wondered briefly how he ever survived infancy.
“Of course, Mum. I’m on my way.”
Mark hadn’t a clue where his errant girlfriend might be. He realised he had no real idea what Helen did during the day, or who her friends were. All she ever seemed to do was shop. The flashing lights on the answering machine caught his attention. Perhaps she’d left a message? The first five were all from his mother, each a little more panic stricken than the previous one. It was the final message however that interested him. Someone from the Belmont Heights Hotel had found Helen’s mobile phone. Curiosity, anger and suspicion all competed for top spot in Mark’s mind. Reluctantly he realised that before he could solve the mystery of his missing girlfriend, he needed to collect his son. Mark was not exactly a hands-on Dad. He never had been. He believed that babies were pretty much the sole responsibility of their mothers or nannies, at least until they could walk. Consequently, his parenting skills were a little rusty. In fact, he had never actually been alone with his new son. Still, he didn’t have much choice in the matter. The shock of Helen’s disappearance thankfully helped to clear his head. It also had the effect of totally destroying his positive frame of mind. He felt really cheated by this and he laid the blame unfairly and squarely onto his girlfriend. Mark failed to shoulder any personal responsibility for the day’s disastrous developments.
He left the house in a foul mood, taking Helen’s car, and drove the short journey to his parent’s house. When he reached their front door, he was greeted by the screams of his baby. Chance was being rocked, gingerly and not very effectively, in the arms of his grandfather. Vanessa was entertaining a small group of guests in the living room. She gave Mark a curt wave and returned to her hostess duties. Robert’s relief to see his son was almost palpable. Mark exchanged Christmas greetings with his father, apologised again for the inconvenience caused, took the crying child and turned to leave. Robert put his hand on his son’s shoulder and handed him Chance’s baby bag, replete with disposable nappies, formula, several new rattles and some beautifully wrapped Christmas gifts.
“I haven’t got yours and Mum’s presents,” offered Mark lamely.
“I forgot.”
“Don’t worry, son. That can wait ‘til we get this lot sorted-out.”
Mark gave Robert a grateful smile. He wished momentarily that he could stop and sit and talk to his Dad – to loosen the bonds of his isolation. The moment soon passed. Robert shot him an apologetic look and retreated to the lounge in response to Vanessa’s insistent call. Bitterly Mark reflected that neither of his parents had asked him what was wrong, or even asked him how he was. Perhaps it was just as well. He would have been unable to come up with an answer to either question. Mark took his son and left.
Within minutes of their departure, t
he exhausted child fell asleep in his baby seat. Mark glanced back at his sleeping son and saw him as if for the first time. His cherubic face was still damp with tears. His fine, pale, baby hair fell in one wispy golden lock over his forehead. His miniature fist still firmly grasped a new blue teething-ring given to him by his grandfather. He looked like the child of a stranger. It occurred to Mark that he really had no relationship with Chance at all. He remembered only mild surprise on the occasion of his birth. He’d behaved in an appropriately enthusiastic way but felt burdened with a heavy secret. He was only going through the motions. As long as his true feelings, or lack of them, remained concealed he felt no guilt. He regarded the child as little more than an afterthought, intrinsically linked to his primary relationship with Helen. As his relationship with Helen deteriorated, his new son became nothing more than a complication.
By contrast, Mark’s experience with the birth of his first two children was one of great joy. He had felt a deep sense of pride as he held his newborn babies. He remembered the look of wonder on Beth’s face as she inspected her perfect little bundles. He recalled a feeling of profound gratitude towards his wife and a sense of anticipation about their future together with these children. How had they lost their way? Mark deeply resented being forced to take responsibility for a baby he felt no connection to. He drove on through the darkness, his mind consumed by a cold hatred for Helen.
At a little after nine o’clock, he pulled into the Belmont Heights Hotel car park. There were few cars about. Most people had better things to do on Christmas night. As Mark got out of the car, he remembered Chance. The tired baby still lay fast asleep. With barely a backward glance he locked up the car, left the sleeping infant, and strode purposefully into the hotel. It took him only a few minutes to check the bistro and bar areas. No Helen. Instead he found her in the gaming room. He walked over and stood behind her chair, calling her name. She did not respond. She didn’t even notice when he gave her a little tap on the shoulder, so deeply absorbed was she at her task. Impatiently, Mark swung her chair around to face him.
When Helen saw Mark, she was at first only confused, but she soon became frightened by the look of rage on his face. She wondered how on earth he had found her. Her new friend Konrad, who played an adjoining machine, quickly moved out of harm’s way. He keenly observed the proceedings from a safe distance.
Jason had noticed Mark on his arrival. The security staff were trained to head-off trouble before it began, and Jason definitely sensed trouble. He could barely believe his own eyes when the angry looking man marched straight up to the beautiful young woman of whom he was so enamoured.
The pair’s raised voices gave Jason an excuse to intervene.
“Excuse me, Sir. If you two wish to discuss something, please leave the gaming area. Otherwise, Sir, I would ask you to leave the young lady alone.”
“Get fucked,” was Mark’s only response. He did not turn around.
Helen looked directly at Jason for the first time. Her beautiful blue eyes, beseeching him for help, were wide with worry and alarm. Jason was captivated. He felt almost grateful to this oaf of a man for giving him the opportunity to finally meet her.
“Okay Mate. The lady wants you to leave. You’ve no cause to bother her like this. I’m afraid you are going to have to come with me.”
“Didn’t I tell you to piss off?” responded Mark. “I’m not leaving without my girlfriend!”
This statement struck Jason with a physical jolt of disbelief. Surely this gorgeous creature was not with this jerk? His eyes searched her face for any sign of denial. He was to be disappointed.
“Damn you, Helen,” continued Mark. “We are leaving now. You have a lot of explaining to do.”
Helen began to take stock of her options. Once the initial shock of seeing Mark there had worn off, she indignantly reminded herself that she was the aggrieved party here. She should be angry with him, not the other way around, and she sensed an ally in Jason.
“I’m not going anywhere with you. Why don’t you go back to your crazy wife? And you can take these with you!”
With an angry yank, Helen tore off the exquisite emerald necklace and threw it to the ground. The delicate gold chain snapped, spilling the brilliant jewels to the floor like a rivulet of sparkling raindrops. The earrings soon followed. These, however, she hurled straight at Mark. They wildly missed their target, twinkling in the air for a moment before hitting the wall and disappearing into the gap behind a poker machine.
Mark watched, stony faced, as Helen destroyed the expensive gift he’d so lovingly chosen for Beth. It didn’t matter. He would replace it with something even lovelier. Right now he just needed to get Helen home where she belonged.
“You sure as hell are coming with me!” yelled Mark.
He roughly grabbed her arm and pulled her out of her chair. By now Jason had called for back-up, and two more burly security officers arrived. Helen released herself from her partner’s grasp, rubbing her upper arm where she’d been manhandled. The officers escorted Mark from the room. After a moment’s hesitation, Helen followed them into the foyer where her boyfriend was waiting. The bright jewels lay discarded on the floor, forgotten by all except Konrad. He hesitated a little before putting on his spectacles. Then he shuffled over, laboriously lowered himself onto his hands and knees, and began to comb the carpet for lost gems with a satisfied expression.
Mark stood near the entrance doors, half expecting Helen not to come out. Before long he saw her emerge from the gaming room and approach him with a determined look on her face. All he wanted to do was to take her and leave. He’d already apologised to the hotel staff who hovered nearby, monitoring the situation. Smiling, he gave them a brief wave to indicate that all was well. Again he took Helen by the arm and guided her out through the double glass doors. Jason watched, curious to see what would happen as the couple stood talking at the front of the hotel. Contrary to management policy he followed them outside, hoping to eavesdrop. Judging by their angry gestures, it was clear they were getting back into an argument.
Helen still seemed reluctant to leave with this man. Jason only caught snippets of their conversation, but that much was obvious. He moved closer.
“Why should I? I don’t know why you even want me to come home,” Helen asked, genuinely puzzled.
“Why don’t you ask Beth instead?”
“Look, you dumb bitch. If you think I’m going to leave you here to lose all my money, you’re crazy.”
“You’re the one that’s crazy if you think I’d go anywhere with you.”
Jason silently cheered as Helen swiveled on her heel to leave. As she turned to go, Mark noticed something odd about the material pulled tightly over the front of her generous breasts. It was soaking wet. It suddenly occurred to him what this meant. It had happened before after spending a late night out without Chance. She was leaking breast milk. It gave him an idea.
“What sort of a mother are you, anyway?”
Helen instantly spun back around to face Mark.
“I’m a better mother than you are a father. When have you ever given a second thought to Chance? If you must know, he’s at your mother’s.”
“No he’s not. He’s all alone in the car park while his mother is out gambling.”
Jason was now close enough to hear every word. Helen shrieked in horror and Mark seized the opportunity to again take her by the arm. This time, he successfully managed to guide her towards the car. Jason followed unnoticed by either of them.
The baby’s frightened cries could clearly be heard as the couple approached the car. Helen began to run. She reached the vehicle, banging on the window and shouting for Mark to hurry. She gave herself a mental kick as she realised this was her car. She had the keys all along. Helen quickly opened the door and removed the distressed infant from his carrier. Mark arrived at the car, followed by Jason, who waited out of sight.
“Strap him in,” ordered Mark. “We’re going home.” Helen ignored him as sh
e attempted to comfort the wailing baby. Mark impatiently tried to take the child from her arms. Helen screamed and pulled away. Jason could contain himself no longer. He stepped out of the shadows, alarming them both.
“Do you want to leave with this gentleman?” Jason asked Helen.
She recognised Jason and felt instantly empowered.
“No. No I don’t,” she replied emphatically, with a defiant stare.
Mark turned his attention to Jason.
“Look, Mate. This is MY girlfriend and MY child and if I say we are going home, then we are going home!”
“I’m afraid not Sir. The young lady doesn’t appear to want to get in the car.”
At this Mark swore loudly, opened the back door, and roughly attempted to bundle both mother and child inside. Helen screamed again and pulled violently away, causing Chance to be pushed hard against the car door. Jason felt his anger outweigh his good sense. In one swift, forceful movement, he swung the surprised Mark around by his right shoulder and dealt him a powerful punch to his stomach. The blow left Mark doubled over, winded and gasping for breath. Helen looked from her groaning boyfriend, across to her handsome saviour. Jason nervously met her eyes, a half smile on his face.
“I probably shouldn’t have done that,” he said.
It was Helen’s turn to smile. Before Mark had time to compose himself, she grabbed the baby bag from the back seat, complete with the Christmas gifts from Mark’s parents. Jason offered to take it, giving Helen an extra hand to help soothe her bruised and distressed child.
“We had better get you two inside,” urged Jason, anxious to get the pair away before Mark recovered. So, under the watchful escort of her new found champion and with Chance safely cradled in her arms, Helen returned to the hotel.
Mark remained leaning against the car for some time, his eyes squinted tightly shut in shock and disbelief. Turning his head, he vomited, surprised by the intensity of his pain. Miserably he wondered if his spleen might be ruptured. As the minutes ticked by however, the pain lessened and he eased himself into the car. His anger vanished, replaced by an overwhelming weariness. He knew he should go to report the assault. He knew he should go to reason once more with Helen. He knew he should retrieve his son. But he was physically and emotionally spent by the events of the day. Christmas morning seemed light years away. With shaking hands he found the car keys. Several minutes passed before his fumbling fingers succeeded in turning on the engine. In a daze Mark drove home and fell into bed, too tired to think any more.
Wasp Season Page 14
