Sleep Peacefully (12 page)

“Can
you slow down a bit, please?” says Kate. She’s looking straight ahead at the
road, and she has her hand wrapped twice around the seat belt. Her grip is so
tight, her knuckles are starting to whiten.

“Sorry,”
I say, perhaps a bit too bluntly, as I release the pressure on the accelerator
under my foot. The car instantly starts to slow.

Kate
unravels her hand from the belt, and flexes her fingers in an attempt to regain
some circulation, and looks at me. “I know you’re in a hurry to get there, but
you have two passengers who would like to get to the city in one piece.”

“Eh?”
I look at her in confusion, then quickly acknowledge she’s referring to the
baby as the second passenger. She’s right—I'm acting careless and selfish. I
release my foot some more so that I hit the speed limit I should have been
sticking to all along.

“Do
you even know what you are going to say, when you get there? Do you think
they’ll still have the booking on file?” she asks.

“I
don’t know,” I reply, “but we’re going to find out soon.”

I
park the car and head towards the travel agency. Kate jogs to keep up with me.
Fury rages inside me as my pace quickens. I don’t even know what I’m going to
say once I’m inside yet, but I’ll think of something. That e-mail is the only
lead I have to find out who Adam Walker is.

*

I
burst through the door of the travel agency, briefly pausing in the doorway to
try and compose myself.
Stay calm, stay calm.
Kate follows me in a
couple of seconds later. She is pink in the face and out of breath.

“God
woman, are you trying to kill me?” she whispers.

The
shop is so quiet you could hear a pin drop. I ignore Kate and step forward
towards a young girl who is busy speaking on the telephone. There are shelves
surrounding us, stacked with glossy holiday brochures, the majority of them
displaying exotic and tempting destinations on their covers. I wish I were here
to book a holiday today. Escaping to a faraway land with no troubles or worries
sounds very appealing right now.

There
are no other agents in sight, and we are the only customers. I loiter at the
front of the shop until the girl finishes her telephone conversation, and don’t
even wait for her to invite me over before taking a seat opposite her at her
desk. Kate quickly follows me and takes another. She picks up a brochure that
is sitting open on the desk and flicks through its pages, trying to look
discreet.

“Hi,
how can I help?” The girl asks, turning her swivel seat towards me. She is
young, probably only about eighteen. I hope she’s new to the job and inexperienced
enough not to know about restrictions surrounding data protection policies.

The
girl is dressed smartly in a royal blue suit with a blue and pink scarf tied
neatly around her neck. I take a quick glance at her name badge, which is
pinned to her uniform jacket.

“Hi
Melanie,” I say in a sickly sweet tone. I can’t even look at Kate, because I
can imagine the look on her face after hearing my false voice. “I am hoping you
can help?” I continue, as I put my right hand over my left to conceal my
wedding band.

“My
boyfriend and I booked a flight to Perth, Australia, quite a while ago using
this agency. We didn’t make the trip because my boyfriend fell ill.” I’m trying
really hard to sound convincing, but the truth is I’ve always been a crappy liar.
I wet my dry lips and continue.

“It’s
just... we’d like to book again for next year, but neither of us can remember
which airline we booked through, cause we priced quite a few,” I add quickly.
“We’d like to go directly through the airline this time because my boyfriend is
a frequent flyer and he can get air miles easier that way.”

Melanie
looks a little puzzled. I’m not sure if what I have just said is even true, I’d
blurted it out quickly, without thinking the details through.

The
girl types something into her system, and a new screen comes up on her
computer.

“I
don’t know if it’ll be on the system anymore, if it’s from a while ago,” she
says, sounding uncertain. I can’t believe she's actually fallen for what I’ve
just told her.

“We
hold records for up to a year that we can access here... I think.”

“That’s
great,” I say brightly, “It was booked for January, so it should still be
there.”

Melanie
nods, “Do you still have a booking reference number?” she asks.

“Yes,”
I answer quickly, getting out my phone and giving her the reference I have from
the e-mail I forwarded to myself. I read the numbers out loud and the girl taps
them into her computer as I speak.

“Yes,”
she says, “it’s still here. Can you confirm the lead passenger’s name and birth
date?”

I
give her Jess’s full name and date of birth, along with Adam’s name as the
second passenger, She puts in the information and waits a few seconds.

“I’ve
got it,” she announces, sounding quite pleased with herself. “The flights were
booked through Qantas. I can get you some prices if you’d like. We did give you
an exceptionally good deal the last time. It might be worth it.”

“No,
it’s okay, we are just looking at options at the moment,” I state, wondering
where to go next in order to convince her to give me the information I need.
But Kate, as always, is already miles ahead of me.

“Actually,”
says Kate, in a loud and assured tone of voice. “My husband and I are looking
at going to Mexico for our tenth wedding anniversary in the new year. Do you
have any brochures that I can take home for my husband to take a look at? We’ll
probably pop back here at the weekend and book up,” she adds casually.

“Oh
yes,” Melanie says, sounding pleased. I feel guilty for allowing Kate to give
the poor girl false hope of a sale, but needs must and at this moment in time,
I’m all out of other options.

Melanie
stands and turns her back to us, walking towards the back of the shop where the
long haul destination brochures are situated.

Kate
already has a piece of paper in her hand as she snatches the girl’s pen from
the desk and leans towards the computer screen to read the address that the
tickets had been posted to. I look around to make sure the shop is still empty.
It is. Kate keeps the girl talking as she squiggles down the address from the
screen.

“My
friend was telling me that Riviera Maya is fabulous,” she shouts over to
Melanie as she pops the address into her handbag, returns the girl’s pen to the
desk and straightens herself in her seat. She times it perfectly, just as the
girl turns back around and returns to us with a few brochures tucked under her
arm.

I
look at Kate and shake my head in sheer disbelief.

“Oh
yes, it's lovely. We have a lot of hotels in that area,” she says, totally
oblivious to what we have just done.

“Fab!”
replies Kate.

“Well,
just let me know when you are ready to book.”

“I
will,” Kate smiles.

“Is
there anything else I can help you with?” Melanie asks hopefully as we stand to
leave, and she hands the brochures over to Kate.

“No
thanks,” says Kate. “We’ve got exactly what we came for.”

I
sit alone, quietly watching the waves smoothly rolling onto the shore, one by
one in perfect rhythm. Their pale blue and turquoise tones look alive and
sparkle like glitter as the sun bounces off them. I bury my bare feet into the
soft, warm sand and squint my eyes against the dazzle of the water as I try to
spot Adam. At first I can’t see him, but then I catch a glimpse of his head
bobbing on the surface as he powers through the ocean, effortlessly swimming
parallel to the shore. His strong arms propel him through the choppy waves like
a knife through warm butter.

I
rub my arms as a gust of wind suddenly hits me. It’s late afternoon, and the
wind is picking up strength like it sometimes does at this time of day. It
feels cool and refreshing against my bare skin on yet another blistering hot
day in Western Australia. The beach is unusually quiet today, with only a
handful of people walking along its shoreline.

I
stand up, shaking the sand off my shorts, and wave towards Adam, beckoning him
to come out of the sea. We need to make tracks if we want to go and look at
this apartment. The real estate agent is meeting us there soon, but Adam
insisted on coming down to the beach for his daily swim before we go. It’s a
daily ritual he rarely misses.

He
is a keen swimmer, powerful and fearless. Living so close to the coast since he
was a child has given him a connection to the ocean that I could only ever dream
of. I'm not confident in deep sea water. Although, I love the beach and could
easily sit watching the waves for hours, unaware of the time slipping by. The
sea has always seemed like a master of disguise to me. Attractive and alluring
one moment, then sinister and unpredictable the next.

My
fear stems from back when I was sixteen. I had been at the beach with Matt and
decided to go for a swim. It had been a beautiful hot summer’s day and the
water was so enticing that I couldn’t resist. Matt watched me from the shore as
I waded further into the cold water, until I was out of my depth and could no
longer feel the sea bed beneath my feet. Not long after I began to swim, I
started to get into trouble and couldn’t fight the strong underwater current I had
leisurely swum into.

I struggled against it for what seemed
like forever. As I was pulled deeper under the waves, I tried to shout and
scream but I couldn’t. Its force was immense. Then, out of nowhere, I felt I
sharp jerk and was thrust forwards through the waves, then lifted into a strong
pair of arms, which held me tightly until I was safely back on the beach. I was
so upset and distraught by the experience that I've never swum in the sea
since. I don’t think I ever thanked Matt for saving my life that day.

Adam
spots me waving to him and holds up a thumb in the air. He instantaneously
changes his direction, swimming back towards the shoreline where I now stand
waiting. I walk into the water, allowing it to wash over my feet. White foam
bubbles around my bare toes, and I wince as the waves temporarily pick up
strength, sending salt water washing up my legs. It hits the tattoo on my thigh
that I recently had done, it stings slightly until my skin gets used to it.

Adam
pushes himself out of the deep water so he can walk. He moves slowly, pulling
back his wet hair from his face, then adjusting his long black board shorts
enough for me to see his thigh muscles flexing tightly as he walks. His tan is
deep, and his skin glistens where thousands of beads of salted water are
clinging to its surface. He comes closer, quickly grabbing me around the waist,
lifting me off my feet, then placing me back down. I trip over his foot
clumsily and fall backwards, pushing me further out into the shallow water. I
laugh and take his hand as he helps me back to my feet.

“We’re
going to be late,” I say, playfully pulling on his arm with all my strength. I
soon start to lose my patience when he refuses to budge an inch, and I have to
resort to using two arms to try and move him. With his feet firmly rooted in
the sand under the water, he pulls me backwards, moving me closer to him, his
arms around my waist once more. I link my hands around his neck and he kisses
me passionately. I’m powerless, just as I always am whenever I’m with him.

I
hold onto him tightly as he moves us out into deeper water. My heart begins to
pound as I feel it circling round my waist. I know that he won't take me any
further out, he is aware of my fear. I wrap my legs around his body, pulling
him closer, feeling his heart beat increase and his breathing deepen, losing
myself in him, wanting him badly.

He
runs his hand down my neck, brushing my breast underneath my thin camisole top.
I gasp as he kisses me again—his touch is hot. I arch my back as it lingers on my
skin. His hand runs slowly down my body, stopping at my thigh, gripping it
firmly. Every one of my nerve endings is alive with excitement as he reaches
his hand under the leg of my shorts and plays teasingly with the elastic of my
underwear. His touch is gentle as he continues, rubbing his thumb along the
material, and sending my pulse racing. It takes every ounce of determination
and willpower that I have to pull away from him. When I do, my body screams out
in protest.

“Come
on, we really have to go,” I say breathlessly, walking into the shallow water
until I am once again on dry land. He lets out a big sigh and follows me out of
the sea, grabbing my hand and putting his arm around my waist as we walk up the
beach towards the steps leading to the road. He pulls my head towards him and
plants a gentle peck on my hair as I pass him a towel to dry off.

“I
love you, Jessica Lawson,” he declares loudly, kissing me again.

I
smile and look up at him, his bright green eyes burning into mine as if they’ve
found a crack in my soul and are now soaking deeply into it.

“I
love you, too,” I whisper back.