Fine Lines - SA (15 page)

"Now, where's the tea?" As I poured the water into the pot, Anna went into the lounge

and I heard the telephone being used again. I took the milk out of the fridge, smel ing it to make sure it was not sour, and poured it into two mugs. I wondered when Anna would notice that some of Marty's things were missing. It was a temptation to suggest that she check, but I resisted it. She would find out soon enough. I put the tea and mugs on to a tray and carried it into the lounge.

Anna was stil on the telephone. As I walked in she said, "Okay, Al.

Thanks anyway," and hung up. "I've cal ed everyone I can think of who he might have gone to see, but no one knows where he is." Her anxiety was barely under control.

"Drink this." I gave her one of the mugs. "Getting yourself into a state isn't going to do any good."

"Yes, but where is he?"

"I don't know, but I'm sure you'l find out soon. Try to see things in perspective. It's only quarter to twelve. Don't you think it's a little soon to start panicking?" She said nothing. Her tea remained untouched. I knew it was only a matter of time before she would want to go to the gal ery to see if Marty had cal ed.

"May I use the toilet?" I asked, to forestal it.

"It's down the hal , first door on the right." Anna did not even look up as I left the room. I closed the door behind me. The hal way was only smal . One door led off to my left, one to my right. The one on the left would be the bedroom. I hesitated and then opened it.

A double bed faced me, almost fil ing the room. A stripped pine wardrobe and dresser took up most of what little space was left. The scent of Anna's perfume hung in the air. Afraid to linger, I was about to close the door when I saw the framed photograph on the dresser.

It was of Anna and Marty on a beach. Both wore bathing costumes. Marty was as pale and run tish as I had imagined, but I barely noticed him.

It was the sight of Anna that hypnotised me. She was wearing a white bikini and had obviously just been swimming. Droplets of water glistened in her hair and clung to her body, faceting her deep navel.

Her nipples were clearly visible as they pressed against the wet fabric of the bikini top, and the brief pants were cut high on her hips, plunging in a deep vee to her crotch. It bulged out in a smal , raised mound. In the centre of this a faint, vertical indentation was just visible.

My chest tightened as I stared at the photograph. At that moment, I would have given anything to own it. It took al my wil power to come away and close the door. I went into the bathroom and washed my face with cold water. More in control of myself, I looked around the bathroom for further evidence of Anna's personal life. Bottles and jars cluttered the shelf above the washbasin, and the top of the bathroom cabinet was similarly ful . I opened it. The first thing I saw was a large carton of sanitary towels, in plain view. I hurriedly closed the door again.

Flushing the toilet without using it, I went back into the lounge.

"Shal we go to the gal ery?" Anna asked, immediately. I agreed. I had no excuse not to.

There were several messages on the answer machine, none of them, of course, from Marty. I made more reassuring noises, but by now Anna's concern was growing fast.

"I know you think I'm being sil y," she said, after cal ing the university yet again, "But this just isn't like him. I can't understand why he hasn't let me know where he is."

"I don't think you're being sil y, I just think you're overreacting a little. I'm sure he'l turn up soon."

"But where is he?"

"I don't know. But I'l bet he comes home tonight at the usual time, with a perfectly good explanation." I smiled at her. "Now. What about lunch?" Anna insisted on staying in the gal ery in case Marty telephoned. I had sandwiches delivered, but she left hers untouched. As the afternoon passed she grew more and more pensive. She cal ed the university again and even contacted the operator to check if her own line was faulty. Whenever the telephone rang she froze, and if I answered it she watched me anxiously to see who it was. Final y, at four o'clock, I told her she could go home.

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"Quite sure. In fact, I'l drive you, if you like."

"No, real y, there's no need." It was obvious that she wanted to be alone. Reluctantly, I decided not to insist. "If Marty cal s, tel him to ring me, won't you?"

"Of course," I said. "And don't worry. I'm sure he's fine."

When my telephone rang that evening, I felt sure it would be Anna. I could think of no one else it could be. I had already spoken to Zeppo, and few other people cal ed me at home.

But the voice that answered was patently not hers.

"Mr. Ramsey?"

"Yes?" The brief elation I had felt disappeared.

"It's Margaret Thornby here." The name meant nothing to me. Then I put it together with the voice, which seemed vaguely familiar, and my spirits sank even lower.

"Sorry to bother you," she went on. "But I wondered if you're going to be busy next Wednesday?" Stil disappointed that she was not Anna, I was slow to see what was coming. "Next Wednesday? Ah ... I'm not ..."

"The thing is, I've arranged to see someone next Wednesday morning," she said, "And I did say I'd let you know the next time I was coming into the city, so I thought I'd give you a ring and see if I couldn't offer to buy you lunch." She gave a jol y little laugh that left me entirely cold. "I'm giving you a bit more notice this time. I could see I caught you unawares when I cal ed into the gal ery the other week, so I thought it was only fair to give you plenty of warning before I descended on you again." I frantical y racked my brains for an excuse. "Ah ... next Wednesday

..." I had a brain wave "Just let me check in my diary." I moved the telephone away from my mouth. After a while I put it back.

"Now, Wednesday ... That's the ...?"

"The sixteenth, I think."

"Yes, the sixteenth. Oh, what a shame. I'm out of town al day."

"Are you? Oh, what a pity." If we had been in the same room, I felt sure she would have put her hand on my arm again.

"Yes, I'm sorry about that, but you know how these things are ..."

"Wel , that's business, I suppose." She laughed. "It would be worse if you weren't busy, wouldn't it?" Reprieved, I laughingly agreed. "Perhaps the next time we might have more luck."

"Wel , I'm not sure when it'l be. As I said, my trips into the centre tend to be few and far between." For which I was grateful. "But I'm sure we'l be able to meet up sometime or other."

We chatted for a while longer about the progress, or lack of it, of our relative insurance claims, and by the time I put the telephone down, relief at my narrow escape made me feel quite wel disposed towards her. Then I remembered what Anna had said.

I had given little thought lately to her joking suggestion that the woman might have designs on me. But now the idea lodged in my mind.

First she had cal ed into the gal ery. Now she had telephoned me. That was not normal behaviour towards someone whose car you had run into.

Or, as she claimed, had run into you. Disturbed, I poured myself a drink. The more I thought about it, the more it seemed that Anna might have been right.

I felt a sudden need to talk to her. She answered the telephone on the second ring.

"Hel o?" She sounded rushed and expectant.

"It's Donald. I thought I'd cal to see if Marty was back." Her disappointment was dishearteningly obvious. "Oh, hel o Donald. No, he's not."

"Have you heard anything from him?"

"No. Nothing at al ." Now I had cal ed, I was unsure what to say. "Are you al right?" She attempted a laugh. "I'd be better if I knew where Marty is. No one's seen him since yesterday. I don't know whether to phone the police, or … or what." She drew a long, shaky breath. She seemed to be control ing herself with effort.

"Would you like me to come over?" Her voice had a slight tremor. "No, it's okay, thanks. A friend of mine's going to stay." It was my turn to feel disappointed. "Wel , let me know as soon as you hear anything."

"I wil . Look, I'm going to have to go, Donald. I want to keep the phone free in case he rings."

"Yes, of course. And don't worry about coming into the gal ery tomorrow. Just ... wel , just see how you feel."

"Okay. Thanks." She sounded distant and uninterested. It was clear she did not want to talk to me. I said goodbye and put the receiver down feeling worse than before I made the cal . It had only let me see that, in spite of everything, Anna stil regarded me only as her employer. Not a friend or confidant. I tried not to be disheartened, and told myself that I could expect nothing else. Obviously, she had other people she would turn to before me. I would just have to be patient.

It was stil early days.

The next day it was almost lunchtime before Anna arrived. She looked pale and tired. Her eyes were red and puffy.

"Have you heard anything?" I asked, brushing aside her apologies.

She shook her head. "Not from Marty. I've just had the police around to the flat. That's why I'm late."

"The police?" I was glad I was behind her; she could not see my face.

"I reported Marty as missing, so they sent a couple of policemen to take the details." Her voice was dul .

"What did they say?"

"Not much, real y. I did find one thing out, though." She tried to smile. "Wherever he is, he's taken a suitcase with him."

"A suitcase?"

"One's gone. Along with some of his clothes and his passport." I looked shocked. "When did you notice this?"

"This morning, when the police were at the flat. One of them asked if anything of his was missing, and I said no, because I didn't think it was. I'd seen his clothes in the wardrobe, so it never occurred to me to check if anything had actual y gone. And I didn't think it would have. I thought if he'd gone anywhere he would have told me. But then they asked if they could search the flat, and when I went around with them I realised one of the suitcases wasn't there. So then I had another look through his clothes, and saw some of them had gone as wel .

Then one of the

policemen asked if I knew where his passport was, and I looked but couldn't find that, either." She did not look at me as she spoke.

"Is anything else missing?"

"Not real y. Most of his clothes were stil there. His chequebook's gone too, but that's al . Nothing of mine's missing, if that's what you mean. The police made me check." "Anna … I don't know what to say." "Not much to say, real y, is there?" "Have you any idea where he might have gone?" "No. None at al ." She stared at the table top.

"I just can't understand it. He wouldn't just go off somewhere without letting me know. He'd have left a note, or something. And he certainly wouldn't go al this time without phoning me."

"Is there anyone he might have left a message with?" "No one I've not already phoned. Except his parents, and I can't see Marty tel ing them anything. And I don't know how to get in touch with them anyway. Their number's in his address book, and he carries that with him." I knew. I had given it to Zeppo to burn. "I don't want to pry, but can you think of any reason why he might have left?" She shook her head. "That's just it, I can't! It's not as if we've had an argument, or anything. The last thing he said when I phoned him was that he was missing me."

Abruptly, she covered her face. "Oh, Christ, I feel so confused!" Just as suddenly, she recovered. She wiped her eyes. "Sorry." I offered her a handkerchief, awkwardly.

"Here. It's clean." "No, it's okay. I'm al right now. Real y." She gave me a shaky smile to prove it. "It's just that I don't know what to think, that's al . One minute I want to kil him, the next I'm certain something's happened to him. I keep going round and round in circles." I nodded, sympathetical y. "Are the police going to do anything?"

"They've already checked with al the hospitals, but nobody answering Marty's description's been admitted recently. That's something, I suppose. So now they just list him as a missing person, which means they'l keep an eye out for him at airports and train stations, places like that. But I can't see them trying very hard. Not when it looks as though he's packed up and walked out."

"Is that what they said?"

"Not in so many words. They were polite enough, but I could see what they thought. I'm just some neurotic girlfriend, whose boyfriend's left her. I suppose you can't real y blame them, can you?" I sidestepped the question. "What about his work at the university? Has he been under pressure from that lately?"

"No more than usual. Not enough to make him do anything like this. And he loves it, anyway. He wouldn't just drop out without saying anything. That's what I can't understand. I know what it looks like, but I can't believe he'd just walk out like this." She looked at me.

"What do you think, Donald? Honestly?" It was my turn to shake my head. "I real y don't know, Anna. I can't claim to know him wel enough to say."

"Yes, but what do you think?" I sighed. "Wel , let's say I'd perhaps be more concerned for his welfare if his luggage and passport were stil here. As it is ..." I spread my hands.

"I know. It looks like he's left me." I said nothing. Anna was quiet for a moment. "But in that case, why didn't he take everything with him?" she burst out. "Most of his clothes are stil here. And al his personal things as wel . If he was leaving he'd take everything, wouldn't he?"

"I don't know, Anna."

"And why hasn't he got in touch with me? Or the university?"

"Perhaps ..." I stopped. "No, it doesn't matter."

"No, go on. Please."

"Don't take this the wrong way, Anna. I'm not saying he has. But ...

wel , perhaps he felt he needed some time to think."

"What do you mean?" I spoke cautiously. "Wel , perhaps he hasn't been in contact because he was afraid to. I don't want to upset you, but it does seem a coincidence that this has happened only weeks before the two of you leave for America." She frowned. "You mean he might have had second thoughts?"

"Al I'm saying is that it's a possibility." Anna considered this only briefly. "No. No, he wouldn't do something like that without tel ing me. Besides, he's as keen on the idea as I am." She was emphatic.