Picture Perfect (11 page)

Well
, I told Moonbeam,
so much for my promise to look after your daughter for you. I’m sorry, my darling, I’ve let you down
. A few tears escaped my eyes and splashed onto Maria’s unmoving body.
I’ve made such a mess of things, haven’t I? First, I make Paul leave me, and now I’ve allowed Maria to be cut to pieces by a madman. And it’s all my fault. Every last bit of it. If I hadn’t been so stubborn and controlled my temper, Paul would still be here and if I’d hadn’t been so slow to put two and two together, then your only child wouldn’t be here in my arms, bleeding. You shouldn’t have trusted me to do the right thing in the first place. I’m just no good at it.
Some more of my tears fell on Maria, wetting her face
. If only you were here, my love, you’d fix everything. You were a magician at making me feel so cared for and safe. Whenever I was scared or worried or lost, you’d take me in your arms and soothe away my troubles with a just few words and caresses. I could do with that right now, I can tell you.

And, as if in answer to my unspoken prayer, an image of Moonbeam appeared in my mind, smiling lovingly at me as she nearly always did, and blowing me a kiss. I heard these words, as distinctly as if they were spoken beside me:

Be at peace, my beloved adopted daughter. I could never, ever be disappointed in you. You make me so proud. I’ll love you forever
.

And that’s when I
really
started to cry. I almost
drowned
Maria, the poor thing, but it actually
did
wake her up. She groaned, her eyelids flicked open and she saw me, bawling like a baby, looking down at her.

“Hey,” she whispered, “
why
you cry? What happening?”

“
Maria
!” I exclaimed, hugging her protectively, which elicited a small moan of pain from her.

“Sorry,
sorry
, sweetie,” I apologised immediately, carefully releasing her. “You’re going to be fine. Lie still now. Roger’s gone for the ambulance and all the baddies have gone. It’s just you and me.”

“That good,” she remarked, relaxing a little. “Hurt all over.”

“I
know
, precious,” I comforted. “You’ve been through hell. But you’re going to be okay, I promise.” I winced a little at my own words. I hoped I’d do better at
this
promise than my last one.

Roger came running into the room. “The ambulance is
here
!” he blurted out. Then he had his first close inspection of Maria’s traumatised body and exclaimed, “Dear god in heaven! That man was an
animal
! How could anyone
do
this?”

“He wasn’t sane,” I informed him. “Do me a favour, Roger, and see if you can find Maria some
clothes
, will you, please?”

“For sure,” he said, and with one last horrified look at Maria, he strode purposely out of the room.

I was still loosely embracing Maria when she asked, “When me being cut by knife, me see
mother
in mind. Clear as anything. She touch face and lots of pain go away. Hard to believe now. Think me delirious.”

“Not a bit of it,” I reassured her. “I saw her as well. I think she
was
really here. In
spirit
, anyway. It’s nice to know that she’s still looking out for us.”

Maria sighed. “Yes. Is good. Still miss her heaps.”

“Me too,” I agreed. “
More
than I can possibly say. She saved my soul.”

Roger arrived soon after, burdened down with a collection of clothes. With his help, we managed to make Maria presentable to the outside world. Just then the ambulance guys arrived with a trolley and they lifted Maria onto it and wheeled her away. Roger and I were allowed to travel in the ambulance to the hospital, where we provided all the details to a ward doctor. He immediately wanted to put Maria into surgery to repair her numerous wounds, but she first insisted on calling her contact at Police Headquarters. After that, she allowed the doctor to wheel her into surgery while another doctor took me aside and stitched up my wound. Roger and I then cooled our heels in the waiting room, awaiting further developments. I took the opportunity to ring Paul, but either he wasn’t home, or he was refusing to answer the phone. I was becoming a little worried about our relationship. We’d never been on the outer with each other for
this
long before. It was unthinkable that things wouldn’t return to normal. We’d been together for nearly all of our lives and I just couldn’t imagine life without him around.

After an hour or so, I persuaded Roger to go back to his house. I couldn’t see much need for us
both
to be there and he reluctantly agreed. The doctor returned about two hours later and invited me to visit his patient. The surgery had been successful, he said, and Maria would be as good as new in a few weeks. I poked my head around the door of her unit, to be greeted by the sight of Maria, almost
covered
with bandages, sitting propped up on the bed. I tiptoed over to her side and sat down beside her. I took one of her hands in mine and simply sat there, waiting. Finally, she gave a snort and awoke. She looked around wildly but then saw me and visibly relaxed.

“Kim, you here,” she said gratefully, putting her other hand over mine and squeezing. “Just for minute there, me think back tied to post.”

“You’re fine, lovely,” I told her. “The doctor says that you’ll recover completely.”

“Is good,” she declared. “Afraid me go through life as freak.”

I leaned over and kissed her cheek where I could see some bare skin between the bandages. “No matter what had happened to you,” I told her, “to me you’d always be beautiful. You have your mother’s spirit and that was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever experienced.”

“You kind to say,” she said in an emotional voice. “Me glad you mother to me. Love you much.”

“And I love you much, too,” I told her, an emotional tear trickling down my face.

Chapter 22.

I stayed with Maria the rest of the day and that night as well. I slept in a bed alongside her just in case she needed anything, but she’d been dosed up on pain-killers and barely stirred all night. In the morning I tried calling Paul again, but
still
couldn’t get an answer. I was starting to fret about his absence, but I couldn’t leave Maria by herself. Roger came back that morning to visit and the three of us sat around talking for most of the morning. Maria’s bandages were changed and the ones over the minor wounds were removed, so she began to look more like a human being and less like an Egyptian mummy. It was obvious that she was well on the road to recovery, so Roger returned home after lunch, saying he’d be back the next morning. That afternoon a Police Inspector arrived to update her on developments. I was permitted to stay while he outlined what had happened during the raid on the house where we’d all been kept prisoner. All of the occupants had been taken into custody and a huge cache of drugs had been found and destroyed. There was talk of a
medal
for bravery, which made Maria blush, insisting that if anything was awarded, then I should be the one to be given it. That made
me
blush in turn, causing the Inspector to smile at our shared modesty. Her left us alone after that, with his congratulations ringing in our ears.

“Well,” I asked Maria, “how does it feel to be a hero?”

“Me just doing job,” she replied. “
You
hero. Save my life. But do much more.”

“Much more?” I questioned curiously. “What
else
did I do?”

Maria grinned and took my hand. “You save
self
,” she replied. “Me see difference second time you before Big Boss. First time, you still in
past
. Old hurts control you. Memories make you cry. Second time, you
strong
. It no affect what Big Boss do to you. You conquer past. Me so happy for you.”

“So,” I murmured, “some good
did
come out of it, after all. Who would have believed it?” I gave Maria a loving look. “But I can’t really take any credit for that,” I protested. “It was your
mother
and
you
who turned me around. Without the both of you, I’d still be wallowing in past nightmares. Her memories and your guidance carried me through all of this.”

Maria patted my hand. “No, you do yourself. Me just help. Me proud to have such strong mother.”

That did it. “Oh, Maria,” I exclaimed, bursting into tears yet again. I wondered why I was being so sentimental recently. Was I psychologically trying to
wash
away my horrible past memories on a flood of tears as the final step in my rehabilitation? Whatever the reason, I thought ruefully, I was sure doing a
lot
of it. Maria awkwardly embraced me as I wept and I leaned gratefully against her, reminiscences of Moonbeam’s healing cuddles inevitably rising in my mind.

I eventually gained control of my emotions but still remained in Maria’s arms because it felt so nice to be held, and I think that Maria liked holding me. We stayed locked together for quite some time, but the doctor came around again to check on Maria’s injuries and we had to disengage. He pronounced himself satisfied, announced that Maria was making remarkable progress, and left. Maria and I talked in a desultory fashion for the rest of the afternoon, until she suddenly asked, “Why you
sad
?”

“What do you mean?” I asked, puzzled.

“Something
bother
you,” she announced with conviction. “Me hear in voice. You upset. What is?”

“
Nothing’s
upsetting me,” I denied.

“You big fibber,” she declared. “Me know. You tell. Maybe help.”

I looked into her soft, brown eyes – so like Moonbeam’s, I thought yet again – and saw nothing but loving concern. My defensive barriers fell apart and I confessed, “It’s Paul. I’m worried about him. We had that fight, and now I can’t contact him! We’ve never been apart this long before. I feel guilty. What if something’s
happened
to him? What if he’s in trouble?”

“Go find out,” Maria advised. “Simple.”

“I
can’t
leave you,” I averred, stubbornly. “Not while you’re like this.”

“Me fine,” Maria insisted. “Better every day. You more important now.
Go
.”

“I can’t,” I disagreed, capturing her hand.

“Go, or me
spank
you, even if you mother,” she threatened.

I laughed at the absurdity of the image, but released her hand. I leaned over and kissed her intently. “Be a good daughter while I’m gone,” I whispered.

Her arms went around my back and she returned my kiss with passion. “You behave,” she instructed.

Chapter 23.

I travelled home, rehearsing in my mind what I was going to say to Paul to make things right between us again, but I arrived to an empty house. There was no
sign
of him. No note. Nothing. Now I was
really
worried. I ran to the next door neighbour who put my mind partially at ease by telling me that Paul had left for a country holiday. I asked my neighbour to scribble down the address where he was staying and I set off immediately. I arrived at the hostel late that afternoon and I went immediately to his room. He wasn’t there, so I searched the immediate vicinity and finally found him, sitting in a deck chair, reading a book.

“Just what the hell do you think you’re
doing
?” I exploded. “I’ve been worried
sick
!”

Paul carefully put down his book beside him and said calmly, “I’m sorry about that. I guess I should have left a message.”

“
Should
have?” I shouted. “Of course you bloody well should have! I’ve been imagining all sorts of horrible things! What are you
playing
at, anyway?”

Paul sighed sadly and rubbed his chin. “I’ve been thinking,” he told me. “We’ve been together constantly ever since our parents died, and perhaps it’s about time we went our separate ways.”

“What do you mean?” I whispered, all my anger immediately evaporating under the implication of his words.

“Let’s face it, Kim,” he continued, “you’ve never really needed
me
in any of your adventures. I’ve always simply tagged along as a passenger.”

“An
essential
passenger,” I reminded him.

He waved his hand in dismissal. “No, I don’t accept that.
You’re
the one who solves all of the mysteries and captures the bad guys in the end. I think it’s appropriate for me to forge my
own
path. For a while anyway, just to see.”

“You want to get
away
from me,” I gasped in anguish, hurt beyond words that he’d even
think
such a thing, let alone say it.

“I didn’t
say
that,” he criticised, irritably.

“But that’s what you
meant
,” I said, my voice rising in tandem with my anger. “You’re getting sick of the sight of me and want to be by yourself.
Fine
! See if I
care
! Maybe we
shouldn’t
see each other anymore. That’s what you
want
, isn’t it?”

Paul threw up his hands and rolled his eyes. “
There
you go again,” he complained, “taking things to ridiculous lengths. I’m not saying that at
all
.”

“Oh, so
now
I’m being ridiculous?” I stormed at him, becoming absolutely furious. Fleetingly, I wondered where all my anger was originating. This
wasn’t
me, especially where Paul was concerned. Perhaps it was a residual effect from the healing of my past memories – a stored accumulation of anger that had to be spent – with poor Paul being the unfortunate recipient? Whatever the case, I took the unprecedented step of physically
pushing
him – something I’d never,
ever
done before. Arms windmilling, he fell off his chair and banged his head on the corner of a nearby table. He lay still on the ground, bleeding from a gash on his scalp. For a few seconds, I couldn’t move. I stood frozen to the spot, appalled, my hand over my mouth in shock. I couldn’t
believe
what I’d just done. Then the trance shattered and I fell to my knees bedside him and lifted his head in my hands.

“Dear god, I’m so
sorry
,” I wailed. “Paul, I didn’t
mean
it! Say something!
Anything
!” My fingers were coated in blood and I looked around frantically for something to staunch the bleeding. I saw a pile of paper napkins on the table and, grabbing a handful, applied them to his wound. I held them there until the bleeding stopped and then gingerly lifted him up to a sitting position, supporting him in my arms. Every molecule of anger in my system had bled out along with Paul’s injury. I mentally flailed at myself for my stupidity and lack of control. What would
Moonbeam
think of this? She’d turn her back on me and walk away, that was for sure. And I’d
deserve
it. Once
again
I’d let her down. I was a worthless human being. Just when my despair seemed to have no limits, I heard her
speak
to me. I couldn’t see properly because my eyes were swimming, but I saw a vague image appear in front of me, just off to the side. A familiar, comforting hand brushed the hair from my forehead, and a set of moist lips pressed softly against mine. I heard a nostalgic soft laugh and that loving voice:

You never change, do you, Moonshine? Always blaming yourself for everything. Let it go, my darling. Let it go
.

Then the world came back into focus. Paul groaned and regained consciousness and I kissed the top of his head in gratitude. He looked up at me in bewilderment. “What happened?” he asked groggily.

“You fell off your chair,” I informed him in a tear-laden voice. “You scared the life out of me. Take it easy. I’ll help you stand.”

He staggered to his feet and sat down in the chair with a grimace. I sat opposite him, holding his arm. “Paul,” I began, “I’m sorry for losing my temper. I never meant to hurt you.
Please
don’t leave. I
want
you in my life. I’ll
always
want you in my life. I know I act like a lunatic on occasion, but I
love
you. You’re my best friend and closest confidant in the whole world. Don’t leave me alone. What would I
do
without you?
Please
, Paul…..”

I broke down at this stage, losing my voice entirely to an emotional tidal wave.

Paul reached over and tried to stem the flow of my tears with his fingers.

“Forgive me, honey,” he apologised. “I didn’t realise how much all of this meant to you. I should have
known
. I was selfishly thinking only of myself. Can you forgive me?”

For an answer, I threw myself into his arms and wept against his chest, as I had done so many,
many
times before. He cradled me, stroking my hair, as he always did, and my world was rectified once again.