No Kiss Goodbye (10 page)

The quiet footsteps on the stairs seconds before failed to register in my mind. I was concentrating so hard on Mark that I dismissed the noise as quickly as I had heard it. Doctor Hammond reaches the final step just as I turn to face him. The large syringe in his hand is terrifying, and I scream so loudly I hurt my own ears. It’s too late. The sharp, cold metal of the needle penetrates my neck and all lights banish from my view.

I gradually open one eye and then the other. The light stings as it burns into my dilated pupils. I’m lying flat on my back with my knees bent. I try to stretch out, but there’s no room to manoeuvre. I’m cramped and uncomfortable. I can’t see enough to determine where I am. I think I’m frightened, but I have so much on my mind that I don’t indulge the feeling. I can sense jerky movements flinging me from side to side. My inability to focus irritates my groggy brain.

There is noise. A voice or voices. Someone is speaking to me, but the words run too quickly together. Staccato tones blur sentences into a low hum in my mind. Engine noises quietly purr in the background. I lie still and listen. I listen for a long time. I’m in a car. I’m obviously lying across the backseat. For a brief, terrified moment, I worry that Mark and Nicole are the couple in the front of the car, but I gradually realise the voices I hear are jumpy and agitated. They’re as frightened as I am.

‘Ava,’ I call.

I hold my breath as I wait for an answer.

‘I’m here,’ Ava replies softly.

She’s only sitting in the passenger seat, but her voice seems to travel miles before it reaches me. I have to concentrate so hard to decipher each simple word from the other that I can feel my brain pound against the back of my skull.

‘Thank you,’ I whisper as I close my weary eyes. ‘Thank…you…’

I have no idea where we’re going, but I know it needs to be far away.

‘I’m sorry,’ Ava apologises stirring me from a fitful sleep.

‘For what?’ I mumble, my eyes still closed.

‘For not believing you.’

There’s such remorse in Ava’s voice that it saddens me. She shouldn’t have to feel guilty about anything. She has been more than wonderful, and I almost pushed her away.

‘Don’t be,’ I insist, opening my eyes and staring at the roof as I speak. ‘I didn’t believe it to start with, either. Who would? Even now, I keep wishing I could find something to prove me wrong.’

‘I don’t think you’re wrong,’ Ava says. ‘It’s taken over two hours for whatever that freaky doctor shot you with to wear off. But you’re okay now. We have you. You’re safe with us.’

Ava tries hard, but her words are of little comfort. Everything I’ve ever loved has been cruelly stolen from me, and I fear I might never get it back.

My eyes close again, and for the first time in weeks, I sleep without the fear that the opportunity to wake up may be denied to me.

‘We’re here,’ Adam proudly announces as he stops the car outside what looks like a little barn.

‘Is this it?’ I ask as I rub my sleepy face.

‘Think so,’ Ava replies, sounding just as surprised as I am.

I scan the small, almost isolated building on the outskirts of a quaint village. It doesn’t look anything like a police station. There’s a very old four-by-four with no back bumper parked in front. Adam’s attempts to convince us it’s an unmarked police car fail miserably, but it does lighten the atmosphere.

I’m too nervous to go inside. I don’t really know what I should say. I’d been very assertive when I spent the last hour and a half insinuating that Nicole is out for blood – my blood. Ava nodded along, and I knew she believed me. Adam, however, was more sceptical. But I naïvely hope he will come around to the theory. After all, it was his suggestion that we retreat to the safety of his grandmother’s old house in west Cork. He thinks I’m in a fragile state of mind, and a couple of days retreat in the country is just what I need. I suspect Ava threatened all sorts to get him to offer his help, but I’m not in a position to take offence.

‘Will you come in with me?’ I plead as I finally work up the courage to open the back door of the car.

‘I don’t think that’s such a good idea,’ Adam says before Ava has any chance to reply.

‘Why not,’ I snap, immediately on the defensive.

If looks could kill, then Adam would be six feet under with a wreath on top as Ava's stare cuts through him like a sharp blade.

‘Yes, Adam. Why is it not a good idea?’ Ava echoes. ‘I can’t let her walk in on her own.’

‘Laura, you are about to make some very serious accusations,’ Adam explains. ‘I don’t think anyone else should get involved.’

‘Why on earth not?’ I ask, unsurprised by Adam’s lack of support.

‘Well, for one thing…there’s no evidence.’

‘What more evidence do you want, Adam?’ I bark. ‘My corpse!’

‘Don’t be so dramatic,’ he snaps. ‘I’m just saying you’re big enough to fight your own battles; you don’t need help.’

I actually admire Adam’s attempts to protect Ava. I’m almost impressed. Ava however looks disgusted. She’s Ms. Independent and has been as long as I’ve known her. She doesn’t take orders very well from anyone.

‘This isn’t a simple argument over who left the porch light on all night,’ Ava retorts. She doesn’t bother to hide her agitation. ‘Her husband’s mistress is trying to kill her.’

Ava’s words send bile twisting around my stomach. Although I’ve suspected Mark’s unfaithfulness for a while now, hearing it come from the mouth of someone else means I can no longer hide in denial.

‘He really is trying to get rid of me, Adam,’ I assure.

Adam doesn’t bother to look at me as I speak. He stares out the window. His actions seem eerily familiar and a sense of suspicion fills inside me. If I struggle to convince someone who’s witnessed Mark’s odd behaviour that I’m in danger, then how can I expect a stranger to believe me? Maybe Adam is right, maybe I shouldn’t get the police involved. After all, right now I’m just some silly women in a dirty ball gown on a Sunday afternoon with a crazy story about an angry husband.

I can’t stop thinking about my children. I know Mark wouldn’t hurt them, but I remember a time when I was certain he wouldn’t hurt me either. I miss them. I missed them so much my body aches. I miss the smell of Katie’s soft baby curls. I miss Bobby’s slobbery kisses. But most of all, I miss how good being their mother makes me feel. I don’t feel good now. I’m failing as a mother because I am not protecting them. I realise I have to save them far more than I have to save myself. I have to talk to the police.

Adam’s eyes are glassy and tear stained. His mixed signals are confusing the shit out of me.

‘I really don’t think this is a good idea,’ he reiterates. His hungover expression dilutes his argument. ‘Let’s just take a few days of chilling out time and see how you feel then.’

‘Chill out?’ Ava mumbles, disgusted. ‘Come on, Laura, let’s go.’

Ava swings her exhausted legs out the car door and turns her attention to assisting me.

‘Thanks.’ I smile as I fumble to get myself into my wheelchair in a minimum number of awkward movements.

‘No problem,’ Ava chirps falsely enthusiastic. ‘Can I tell you a secret?’

I nod and try to smile.

‘I’m scared,’ she says.

‘I’m not scared,’ I lie very unconvincingly as we reach the tattered timber door. ‘I just want to do this and get the hell out of here.’

‘Good afternoon,’ Ava shouts into what appears to be an empty station.

There’s a lonely mahogany table just inside a small porch area. It sits in the middle of the floor and although there’s nothing to suggest against it, Ava and I are reluctant to enter past the desk.

‘There’s no one here,’ Ava says disappointedly.

‘What will we do?’ I ask, beginning to panic.

I know it’s unrealistic, but I’m terrified that Mark has secretly followed us. I’ve seen a few too many horror movies and my nerves are in overdrive.

‘Hello,’ a husky voice finally says.

‘Hello, Sir,’ Ava replies shakily taking control of the situation. It’s obvious she’s a good, law-abiding citizen. Just being inside a police station is enough to have her quaking in her very fashionable Ugg boots. 

I notice her eyes widen in delight as a tall, attractive guard appears from a small room at the back of the station.

’It’s a beautiful day out there,’ he says. ‘What brings you to this part of the world?’

Ava turns subtly towards me and rolls her eyes. Is it that obvious that we’re intimidated city folk released to the wilds of the country for the day?

‘We want to report an attempted murder,’ I say, having second thoughts before the sentence even leaves my mouth.

‘Yes,’ Ava concurs pathetically, with excessive nodding.

The guard’s mannerisms change completely, and he suddenly becomes impressively official and professional.

‘Attempted murder,’ he echoes.

‘Yes,’ Ava replies, a stammer creeping into her voice.

The Garda quickly looks behind him and beckons for a colleague’s assistance.

‘All right, I’m going to need you to make a statement,’ he explains kindly. ‘Have you been hurt?’

‘No,’ I quickly answer. ‘He hasn’t actually done anything, yet.’

‘Yeah, but he wants to,’ Ava is fast to insist.

‘Who?’ the guard asks, sounding confused.

I nod. ‘It’s my husband.’

‘Your husband is an attempted murderer?’ the second guard states as he reaches us. He’s a humourous cliché of a long-serving, country-stationed policeman. He’s well built but carries a few noticeable, extra pounds. A fresh, yellowish stain dots on the collar of his uniform. I can smell fried eggs, and the culprit, a half-eaten breakfast roll, rests on the desk. It’s hard to take his sloppy appearance seriously. He stands beside the handsome, young guard, his bald head almost in line with the young guard’s shoulder. They’re a comical pair. They look like they’ve just arrived back from a Laurel and Hardy look-alike convention. It’s obvious they don’t get many serious crimes reported in their station, as they both looked as uncomfortable as we are.

I glance at Ava to see if she has noticed their strange appearance also, but she’s too busy drooling over Officer Dreamy. I smile sadly to myself as I realise how much I miss Mark. He would have been silently laughing along with me. My chest tightens as the stark realisation that I will never share another joke with him again hits me. After this, there is no hope for us ever recovering. No one likes a joke that starts with ‘do you remember that time I had you arrested for attempted murder…’

‘Okay, love,’ the shorter guard says after an exaggerated, awkward silence. ‘So, firstly can I have your name please?’

‘I’m Laura Kavanagh.’

‘Pleased to meet you, Laura. I’m Sergeant David Clancy.’ He smiles and extends his hand.

I reluctantly shake his greasy hand. He has kindness in his eyes and his subtle smile puts my shattered nerves at little at ease.

‘Okay, Laura, can I have your address please?’

‘146 Ballyview road, Lucan, County Dublin.’

‘Laura Kavanagh?’ the younger guard says, questioning my name oddly. He repeats my name at least twice more as if he needs to clear a bad cough from his chest. His eyes are burning into me, and I feel horribly self-aware. 

‘Yes,’ I confirm irritated and uncomfortable by his approach.

‘I recognise that name,’ he says.

The sergeant doesn’t say a word as he takes his attention from me and turns it towards the younger guard.

‘Yes, I remember now,’ the young guard says finally. An exaggerated smile pulls his lips into an unflattering position. Suddenly, I don’t find him attractive anymore.

‘I remember reading your story in the papers not so long ago. I’m very sorry for your troubles.’

‘Thank you,’ I reply, surprised.

I didn’t know the accident had been reported on. It must have been a slow news day. I turn to Ava who is shaking her head. I guess I must have been in a coma for my five minutes of fame.

The sergeant’s eyes narrow and his expression sours. And, without words, he tells the younger guard that he’ll take it from here. The young guard takes the not-so-subtle hint and walks away.

‘Sorry, love,’ the sergeant says, turning back to face me. ‘I swear that young fella’s gob is the biggest part of him. Please continue. Tell me why you are so concerned about your safety.’

‘My husband is having an affair with our neighbour, and they’ve tried to poison me,’ I blurt without drawing a breath.

The sergeant nods sympathetically.

‘Okay,’ he says softly. ‘This is a very serious matter.’

‘I know,’ I eagerly agree.

I caught Ava flirting with the younger Garda out of the corner of my eye. She’s rubbing one foot on the back of her opposite calf and twirling a soft curl around her baby finger. She’s the textbook opposite of helpful. In fact, she’s a bloody distraction.

‘Has your husband regularly shown signs of violent behaviour in the past?’ Sergeant Clancy continues. ‘That’s a nasty gash on your hand.’

I clasp my hands together instinctively. ‘No, Mark’s not like that…’ I pause for a moment and wonder why, after everything that’s happened, it’s still my natural instinct to defend my husband.
Why am I here?

‘I mean, no, this is the first time he has tried to hurt me. But I overheard him talking about poisoning me before.’

‘Did you report it then?’ the sergeant asks.