Heart Stopper (15 page)

“Strange, then. Or what would you describe it if you knew that I had her too.”

The words landed, but Priya couldn’t figure them out through the gathering cotton-wool daze in her mind. The walker on the beach had turned and was walking back; she could see the earnest face of the spaniel, its heavy ears drawing a straight line pointing back the way it came.

Her voice came out. “Had who? Kathy?”

“She was actually not as difficult to get as you were. With you, well, you were always struggling with guilt. With her, she enjoyed it. She felt guilty too, but that was later.”

The wind died down suddenly. The sun beat down through the quiet and Priya could hear the thrum of the waves. The walker had one of those tennis balls on a throwing stick and she had loosened the raincoat and flung the ball off its spring and down the beach. The spaniel raced after it.

“I don’t believe you.”

Valerie laughed. “You’re actually like Gerry in a lot of ways. You just can’t believe anyone could do anything wicked.” She whispered the last word.

“Kathy wouldn’t.”

“Do you remember that time we went to the Skeff? I think Michael was there as well as the four of us.”

Priya remembered. She had gotten into a discussion with Michael and Gerry about the economy. Priya and Michael had tried to convince Gerry of the approaching crash in the property market, of the abuse of power by the political leaders. It had been a playful atmosphere even though the argument at times was heated. Then the heat had been turned up even more as the discussion turned to the War on Terror. She tried to remember where Valerie and Kathy had sat. She couldn’t picture them there.

Valerie said, “You guys were having this boring discussion. Kathy and I were not.”

Priya closed her eyes. Her mind escaped into the details of that afternoon. They had sat upstairs. She could see the pattern on the sofa chairs, the red cream stripes behind Michael’s shoulders as he leant forward to emphasize a point. Gerry leaning back and chuckling at something, his sleeves rolled up, the pattern on his loosened tie matching the ornate carvings on the wall. She could see the gleaming wooden floor stretching out in front of her. She could feel the warmth of the fire blazing behind her, the brick-lined fireplace with the chunky mirror hung above it. She could hear the voices of the two men in front of her and the cheers of a crowd coming from the large-screen TV perched in the corner.

And she could see Valerie coming back from the bar with their drinks, what had she drunk, a Baileys? Priya could feel the stare into her eyes as Valerie handed her the glass, the curls of cream liquor slipping off their cubed ice platforms as Priya sipped hastily trying to hide her reaction. And Kathy, coming back from the toilets, the flush on her face reflecting the heat of the fire.

No. No, no, no, no, no! There were no other words allowed. If she repeated the word over and over again, she would not have to let in the thoughts. But the knowledge crept into the space between her thoughts and set up home, a squatter she would never remove.

“She used to call me, after. After you two split up. She wanted more. She didn’t seem to accept it was over. Unlike you. She used to call me and say she was going to top herself. Of course I never went.” Valerie sounded surprised that Kathy would call her.

Priya thought of all the times she’d gone when Kathy had called, guilt and concern propelling her through the doors to pick up the pieces of the woman she thought she’d shattered. She opened the door and struggled out of the car. The walker and her dog had disappeared. She hadn’t noticed them getting into a car and driving away. The beach was empty. She heard Valerie call, but ignored her and walked down the ramp leading off the concrete promenade and onto the sand. She heard the engine roar as Valerie drove off a few minutes later.

∞

She sat on the rocks for hours and let the wind batter her. The sun and the clouds were still playing the same games. Walkers came and walkers went. Some with dogs, some in couples, all glancing curiously at her especially on their return leg, surprised to see her still sitting there, her light jacket soaked through, her hair sprawled on her skull.

The movie reel of her mind turned, projecting pictures onto the back of her eyes. The images were over two years old, and the same; her eyes were different. And she saw it. What she would have seen had she not been so blinded by Valerie. The gaps when Valerie and Kathy weren’t with the rest of them, the screaming reaction to Priya’s confession, Kathy’s desperate phone calls after her first ones to Valerie had been ignored. The unspoken request to get back together had not been spoken because it had not been felt. And the woman with who she had spent seven years had mirrored her betrayal, magnified it, and left her with the guilt.

She walked home as the light faded.

The doorbell was insistent. It scraped through her mind, jangling her nerves. She didn’t know how long she had been sitting on the sofa in her living room, her clothes drying into wrinkles. The lights were not switched on and the growing darkness outside had slunk in further, cozying up to her as the hours passed. There was a full bottle of wine on the floor by the couch, uncorked, but untouched; a glass lay beside it.

She’d opened the bottle earlier, but decided not to take any alcohol while she was upset. She didn’t like alcohol, in college she’d argued against its over-use, but the last few years had changed many things. She’d tried, but hadn’t managed to drown anything in drink and the last few times she’d had too much, she’d made a fool of herself or worse, ended up with a dead man. She was going off alcohol rapidly.

She looked at her phone. There were five missed calls from an unknown number. She knew they were from Reyna, but she hadn’t wanted to talk to anyone. For two years, she had done a good job of suppressing. No one at the clinic had seen anything but the mask. The effort of holding it up was draining. She could feel it slipping despite her frantic efforts. And cracks had been appearing since she’d found Daniel, but Valerie had just taken a hammer and smashed holes through.

The ringing of the bell clamored at the corners of the room. Whoever was at the door wasn’t going away. Then there was silence and Priya felt her body relax. The knock at the window sent her rigid again and she twisted to see a fist poised to rap again.

Priya got up and opened the door.

“What’s happened?” Reyna’s face showed her anxiety.

“I’m sorry. I switched my phone off.”

Reyna stared at her. Priya summoned up a smile as she turned and walked into the living room switching on the light as she went. Reyna followed.

“We have more of a problem.” Reyna’s voice was tense, and there was a sense of defeat in it.

Priya reached down for the bottle of wine. She waggled it at Reyna who shook her head. Priya shrugged and poured herself a glass. She took a long swallow.

Reyna asked, “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

She was looking at Priya’s crinkled clothes, at her damp hair, at the look in her eyes. Priya took another gulp of wine then finished off the rest in the glass and placed the glass on the floor. She gestured at the armchair and sat back down on the sofa, pulling her legs up into her and hugging the rounded arm.

Keeping her voice steady, Priya asked, “We have a problem?”

Reyna remained standing, but she’d moved around in front of the couch.

“I don’t know how to say this, especially since you’re obviously not okay.” Reyna knelt beside the couch and took Priya’s hand. Priya stared at their hands and then back up at Reyna. Even through her daze, she felt the power of Reyna’s eyes. They were brown like Valerie’s, but a million shades away. The pupils were wide and Priya saw a universe inside the shadows.

Priya closed her eyes. “Just say it.”

Reyna took in a deep breath then let it out in a rush. “Gerry phoned James and demanded your suspension from the clinic and an investigation into your breach of security.”

“Gerry? Or Valerie?”

“Gerry.”

“And what did James say?” Priya felt surprisingly calm.

“He was under pressure from TechMed Devices as well. He said we have no choice and has asked me not to go against the decision.”

“So I’ve been suspended.”

Reyna got off her knees and sat beside Priya without letting go of her hand.

“I’m sorry. As far as TechMed and James are concerned, the rules were broken. Only you and I, and Catherine, know that it turned out to be for a good reason. And Gerry and Valerie have a right to demand this as it was their material.”

“And you’re not going to go against them.” Priya yanked her hand out of Reyna’s grip.

Reyna said, “Priya, I would have fought it, but I actually think right now it might be a good thing.” She hurried on as Priya turned to glare at her, “Have you considered the danger you are in? It would be safer if you weren’t near the clinic for the moment. Not till we find out what’s going on.”

“Danger from what? The only thing in common between the attacks is the equipment the technicians were using. So if, I’m in danger, so is Tara and so are God knows how many others who use the same equipment every day.”

“But you’re the only one who’s been followed. You’re the one Daniel trusted along with Catherine.”

“So, now you trust me? But you’re going to suspend me?” Priya sprang up and felt the wooze of wine rush to her head. Or was it light-headedness from a rush of blood to her legs, or a lack of food. She hadn’t eaten since that half of a sandwich at lunchtime yesterday. Her hands trembled as she poured out another glass, splashing a few drops onto the floor, the red drops brightly dark against the black and white tiles. She drank the glass in one go and poured another.

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” Reyna said.

“Don’t you mean ‘Priya, you obviously can’t handle your drink as you’ve proven before’? What is it, Reyna, can’t you ‘handle’ me when I’m drunk. You’ve done it before. Or is it when I’m sober that you don’t want to know?” Priya spun around to face Reyna.

The fast motion made her head spin and the wine spilled out again and dripped down into the fold of skin between her thumb and finger. “Why do women like Valerie get whatever they want?” She watched the drops of red creep down towards her wrist.

Reyna got up, took the glass from Priya’s hand, and placed it on the low table beside the window and stayed, staring out of the window. The night had snuffed out the lingering light of the Irish summer and Priya knew the occasional sweep of brightness from the passing traffic was not that interesting.

It struck her that Reyna was forcing herself to remain turned away. She felt a surge of power. For the first time. She wondered if this was what Valerie felt. Was it more satisfying when the woman who was struggling was strong?

Priya wanted to be in the game. To feel what it was like to participate, to control, to direct it. She walked over to the window, her steps deliberate. She felt Reyna’s body flinch away as she took Reyna’s face and turned it towards her. Keeping her eyes fixed on Reyna’s, she placed her hands on Reyna’s hips and pushed, slow, but firm, until Reyna was leaning on the sill, her back pressed against the glass blackness. Priya looked down at the pulse that thrust against the line of Reyna’s neck. She ran the tip of her finger over the movement and down to the edge of Reyna’s top where it bunched at her collarbone, she could feel the grain of the cloth rough against the silk of Reyna’s skin and she could feel Reyna’s fast breath against her cheek, warm and cool, hot and cold. As she lowered her head to kiss Reyna, she saw the helplessness she had seen in Reyna’s eyes before, but there was hurt attached now. The feel of Reyna’s lips drowned out the protest that surfaced in Priya’s heart. She wound her fingers through Reyna’s hair, her knuckles tapped against the cold of the pane, her palms cupping the heat, pulling it closer, her body pushing Reyna’s.

She was losing herself in their kiss, but the shade of hurt in Reyna’s eyes wouldn’t leave that part of Priya’s mind that knew. She pulled her mouth away and laid her cheek against the base of Reyna’s throat. She closed her eyes and inhaled the scent.

With as much strength as she could marshal she took herself out of Reyna’s arms and sank down onto the couch.

She kept her voice calm and it came out low. “I don’t play games, Reyna. I’m as competitive as the next person, but not when it comes to feelings.”

“I am not playing games.” Reyna was still slumped where Priya had left her and her voice sounded like it was being forced through a rigid tube.

“Well, everybody seems to. And I honestly don’t know anymore who’s playing and who’s not.” Priya slid her body flat onto the couch and rested her head against the arm. “You’ve done what you came to do; I have been well and truly suspended. You know where the door is.”

The click of the door closing a few minutes later stung deep in her chest.

Friday, July 22, 2011

The man sitting across from him was tense. The diplomat noticed that the man’s blue suit had just one wrinkle, arcing its way down below the knee to the hem of the trousers. On the desk between them lay the device. The temporary one the diplomat was using. He was now expert at working the device. Hold it over the collarbone, wait for the beep, press the button. That was to communicate with his implanted pacemaker. For the meeting, he would be holding the device in his pocket, standing within three feet of his target. He couldn’t get the device any closer without arousing suspicion. And when he pressed the button, everything would stop. And his pacemaker would start.

The diplomat said, “Why am I practicing with this? It is not the real thing. I will not need to hold it in the same way.” His voice was harsh with fear.

The man frowned. “It is close enough to the real thing. Everything will be in the same place. It will work though.”

“You are sure? We will never get another chance, you know that.”

The man nodded. His eyes burned and the old acne scars stood dark against his tanned skin.

“I will make it happen. If it is the last thing I do.”

The man got up and walked to the door. He used the same tone that he had when they had first met, the reassuring tone, the convincing tone. The diplomat found it disturbing, that flat confidence, the arrogance that still managed to creep through.

“I am going there today. I have a few things to clean up. The device will be ready before the 28
^th
. That is the latest date for the device to be ready in time and get it to you for the meeting on August 1st.”

As the man left the room, the diplomat tried not to think of the lack of options for him, and more importantly for his country, if the device was not ready in time.

They had 10 days.