The Blame (2 page)

"Well, what do you think?”

"Delicious!" answered Laura as she dipped another piece of corn bread into the olive oil laced with crushed garlic and fresh herbs.

Hugo topped up her glass with a full-bodied red wine from the Douro Valley.

"Whoa! Go easy on the wine. I get tipsy after a glass or two."

"Never mind. You are not driving today, are you?"

"Still, I don't want to make a spectacle of myself," she grinned.

She leaned back in her chair and glanced round the cosy traditional restaurant. The polished terracotta floor tiles, thick wooden ceiling beams and rustic stone walls were in keeping with the hearty regional dishes on offer. The seafood rice and baked salted cod with cream were especially popular with tourists who, even at this time of the year, made up a significant part of the restaurant’s clientele. Due to the recession and high VAT rates, most restaurants had suffered heavy losses over the last couple of years, so tourists were a much needed and sought after commodity.

Hugo raised his glass and they toasted the success of their current project.

"So our main concern is to create a building that has a reduced carbon footprint. Energetic efficiency is vital, and that is why we are using a solar powered lift."

"Solar powered? Is that possible?"

"Yes, it is, and although there are not many in use just yet, perhaps one day they will be commonplace."

"That's what I love about Delta. You have a great forward-thinking company culture. Talking of which, next week we’re focusing on the company’s safety guidelines. I feel that the message hasn't been getting through, so we need to implement some awareness building campaigns, as well as training sessions for everyone. Especially the field personnel. We’ll have to appoint master trainers for the teams working abroad.  Also, some first aid training for the supervisors would be really useful.  I've done a course myself and it's really worthwhile."

"I agree. I will set up a meeting with Sandra Pinheiro. You’ve met our new Health and Safety Manager, haven’t you?"

Laura nodded and took another sip of her wine. Thank God he’d chosen to ignore that silly moment in his office that morning. She really didn’t want any awkwardness between them, not only for professional reasons but because she genuinely liked him. They had so much to talk about besides work. She could always count on him to share her enthusiasm over simple things like the sighting of a rare bird, or the participation in worthy causes such as Greenpeace campaigns.

"So, how is your son getting on at university?"

This brought a frown to Hugo's face. "He is still not making much of an effort, to tell you the truth."

"Oh, that’s a shame."

"I keep telling him that he does not have to get a degree if he does not want to, but he cannot expect me to keep supporting him while he fritters away his life. Opportunities are far and few between as it is."

"That sounds fair to me."

"Yes, well, trying saying that to his mother," Hugo replied dryly. “She thinks I am too hard on him, that I do not cut him enough slack, even though he has failed the year twice.”

"Yes, it’s always tough when both parents aren’t in agreement on how to bring up their kids. Anyhow, what about your daughter? How is she doing?"

"She has been offered a good job in China."

"In China?" exclaimed Laura.

"Yes, well, that is where the money and opportunities are. For now, at any rate. I suspect that their real estate bubble will be a case of déjà vu."

"Yes, you may well be right. Anyhow, look on the bright side. You now have a great excuse for an extended holiday in the far east."

"I suppose so. Anyway, enough about me. Do you have any plans for going back home soon?”

“I wish,” said Laura, averting her eyes. “I think I’m going through an extended I-miss- my-old-life -in-South Africa phase.”

She took a sip of her wine and then proceeded to perform neurosurgery on the roast kid and baked potatoes she had ordered.

Hugo watched her in silence.

“What’s wrong, Laura?”

“If I knew, I’d fix it,” she replied with just a trace of bitterness.

Like an infuriating therapist, Hugo held his tongue and waited for her to continue.

Well, so much for not having any awkwardness between us,
she thought in irritation
. I really must learn to keep my mouth shut.

She put down her cutlery and clasped her hands. Her right thumb rubbed her left palm mercilessly.

“It’ll sound trite if I put it into words. A real cliché that everyone’s heard before.”

“Try me.”

“Well, it basically boils down to what I told you this morning. I seem to be on a different wavelength from everybody else. I don’t know if it’s delayed culture shock, but I don’t seem to see eye to eye with many people anymore. Not even my husband.”

“But I was under the impression you had a fairy tale marriage.”

“I did. Picture a university graduate backpacking around Europe, falling madly in love and leaving everything and everyone behind to start a new life in Portugal.”

“It can’t have been easy,” said Hugo.

“Actually, it was. And things were perfect for the first few years. David was my rock, my mentor…”

“And now….?”

“And now things have changed. We don’t connect anymore. He’s not the same person I married,” said Laura, with the forlorn look of a puppy that’s been banished to the backyard.

“Perhaps you’re the one that’s changed; you are no longer so dependent on him. You have found your own way and made a life for yourself. But that is natural and healthy. Relationships inevitably change over time.”

The waiter appeared to whisk their plates away and Laura waited for him to leave before answering.

“You’re right of course, but I get so irritated and frustrated when he doesn’t see things my way. Things that even a blind man could see!”

“Doesn’t everyone? Things will get back to normal when the renovation is finished, you’ll see. In my experience, building a house puts a strain on even the best of relationships—the money, the hassle, the different opinions…”

“You’re probably right. But now I'd best be on my way because I want to be home when the school bus arrives. We have a housekeeper, but I like to be there myself whenever I can," said Laura, signalling for the waiter.

The rain had stopped but it was still grey and overcast, and large puddles covered the cobblestones. Laura’s footwear was unsuitable for the uneven narrow alleyways that twisted through Alfama, Lisbon’s quaintest quarter. She tottered precariously as they made their way to the car, which was parked some distance away. Hugo had offered her his arm, but feeling self-conscious, she’d declined.

"That was a lovely meal, Hugo. Thank you," she said as they approached the car.

"My pleasure," he smiled.

“I’m sorry I ruined it by laying all that stuff on you. I feel quite embarrassed now. I’ll blame it on the wine.”

“Don’t worry about it. That’s what friends are for.”

She smiled gratefully at him.

“Watch out, Laura!” Hugo suddenly called out.

She looked down just in time to skip over a large puddle, but her stiletto heel got stuck between the cobbles and she lurched forward, arms instinctively outstretched. Hugo shot out an arm and scooped her into an embrace while she steadied herself. Standing with her palms flat against his chest, Laura looked breathlessly up into his face, just inches away from her own.

She was in suspended animation: seconds felt like eternity, her body languid and lax. A riot of sensations invaded her—his body heat, his cologne, the grey at his temples.

Then as if from a great distance, she became aware of an insistent buzzing; a cell phone vibrated in his pocket. He loosened his hold on her and she stepped back, looking down to hide her confusion. He fished out his phone and said a few terse words into it. When she looked up again, she saw that he was still staring intently at her. Feeling the blood roar in her ears, she moistened her dry lips with the tip of her tongue as their eyes met and locked for one long moment.

Then he opened the passenger door for her.

Laura flopped into an empty row of seats, leaned her head back and shut her eyes. Her heart was still pounding. She couldn't quite believe what had happened and played the events over again in her head.

They’d driven to the bus terminus in total silence. She’d been intensely aware of his presence next to her; the large sedan had felt as cramped as a Mini. Every time he’d placed his hand on the gear lever, there, so close to her thigh, her stomach had tightened.

He’d pulled into a layby and, without cutting the engine, had stared straight ahead, hands gripping the steering wheel.

Uncertain of what to say, Laura had hesitated a moment, and then suddenly she’d felt the warmth of his hand on hers. She’d turned to look at him and had seen that he was still staring at some distant point. He’d squeezed her hand and let it go, not once looking at her.

She’d opened the door and stumbled out. 

She was still blown away by the intensity of that moment they had shared. Sure, she had fantasized about him a couple of times. She couldn't deny that she had always found him attractive and charming. It was unfair that men could actually become sexier as they aged. Take Sean Connery and Brad Pitt, for instance.

But what was she thinking? She was married. She loved her husband.

Yes, but when did you last feel so exhilarated, so alive
, asked a little voice inside her head. Despite herself, she broke into a wide grin. Let’s face it, only the novelty of a new body can cause a pulse to fluctuate so wildly. That's what was missing after sixteen years of monogamy. No matter how good the sex was, the passion just couldn't last that long. And the big four-oh was looming. Her youth was slipping through her fingers and she felt that she was missing out on something. It was now or never. Soon she'd be old, too old.

But how could she cheat on David? He didn't deserve it. Despite all her bitching, he was a good husband and a caring father. So what if he didn't give her his undivided attention as Hugo did. So what if they didn't connect as they once had. It was normal and unavoidable. Things changed. It was a fact of life.

But so was her growing restlessness and dissatisfaction. She felt conflicted; loyalty and guilt struggling to overcome the adrenalin rush.

She resolved to be sensible and banish these thoughts from her mind. She took out her iPad, determined to work on her Safety and Health presentation. She tapped the screen a number of times, accessed the document and started to proofread what she had already written.

But her mind wouldn't focus. Her thoughts kept drifting to risky scenarios, which oddly enough, only made the whole thing more appealing. She stared out of the window. They'd left the city centre behind and were now passing the dormitory towns she so disliked. Washing flapped from clothes lines mounted under kitchen windows, adding to the global unkempt look of these suburbs. The chances of the washing drying that day were slim. 

Lost in thought, she jumped when her cell phone rang in her handbag. Her heart skipped a beat. Was it him? What should she say?  With a trembling hand, she looked at the screen. Maria. She let out her breath sharply. "
Olá
,
Dona
Maria. Is everything all right?"

"
Sim,
Dona
Laura. I just wanted to know if you will be home in time for the school bus."

"Yes, don't worry, I'll be there. You can go now, if you like."

"OK, I am done for today, unless there is anything else you would like."

"No thanks,
Dona
Maria. That will be all. Have a good weekend."

"
Obrigada
. See you on Monday."

Dona
Maria had been with them since they’d bought the property and had been a blessing when it came to looking after Vanessa, whom she treated like a granddaughter.  She had also doubled up as resident shrink and kept Laura from losing her cool, and her mind, when the renovation works didn’t go according to plan.

***

Sixty minutes later the coach pulled into the bus terminus in Óbidos. The beautifully preserved citadel, perched atop a hill, looked down over   expanses of vineyards speckled with whirling windmills and terracotta-roofed homes. Whether shrouded in mist or kissed by the sun, it never failed to look alluring.

Laura got off the coach and headed for the taxi rank where a couple of men stood chatting and smoking. There wasn’t much of a demand for taxis in a small town with an efficient bus service, and where practically everything was within walking distance.

However, to get to her neck of the woods in the adjoining municipality, one definitely needed a car for the ten minute drive through undulating hills of forestland. Unfortunately, it was mostly eucalyptus for the pulp and paper industry. Although she couldn’t blame landowners for wanting to make a buck or two out of this otherwise infertile soil, it just made her all the more determined to turn her five acres into a sanctuary for the local wildlife. Just because they didn’t have The Big Five in this country, it didn’t mean that she couldn’t have The Small Five, she always joked.

She had just paid the taxi driver when the school bus pulled up at the gate that opened onto a long gravel driveway. Vanessa got off, dropped her school bag on the ground and leapt into her mother’s arms. Laura spun her around until they were both dizzy.

“Hey, princess. How was your day?” she asked, kissing the top of her head.

“It was fine, but I’m glad there’s no school tomorrow.”

“Yes, I’ll bet you are. So am I. C’mon. I’ll fix you some milk and chocolate biscuits.”

“Yummy, but I don’t feel like walking all the way up to the house,” she groaned. “It’s too far.”

“Come on, lazy bones. I’ll carry your bag. At least you don’t have to totter along on high heels like me!”

As they made their way up the gently sloping driveway, the gravel crunching below their feet, a cacophony of barking could be heard, deep baritones intermingled with high soprano.

“Listen to the girls! They’ve heard us arrive. We´ll let them out after the builders have gone.”

“Daddy’s gonna get upset if they dig up the lawn again. And they broke the new shrubs down by the fence.”

“I know. I know. My six-pack can be quite a lot of hassle, but they
are
guard dogs and if we want them to do their job, they have to be free to run around.”

“Well, daddy says that nobody in their right mind has six dogs, and he says that we don’t need guard dogs anyway, because this isn’t South Africa.”

Yeah, well, daddy’s obviously not been watching the news
, she muttered to herself.

The driveway wound round a thick screen of cypress and Lombardy poplars and opened up onto a cobbled courtyard. The double-storey villa with the adjoining utility room, home gym and garage formed an L that dwarfed the courtyard. Off to the left, stood the smaller cottage they were now living in as it had been the only building that was habitable when they bought the property.

A white battered cargo van was parked in front of the double garage, its back doors hanging open. The three men who were loading it with an assortment of tins and tools turned in unison as they heard their footsteps. All of them nodded in greeting and the supervisor stepped forward to shake Laura’s hand.

He was a stout man in his forties with a swarthy complexion. He wore a tweed flat cap, a hand-knitted jumper and paint splattered jeans.

“
Dona Laura, boa tarde.
”

“
Boa tarde, senhor Manuel.
How did the work go today? Well, I hope.”

“
Sim, senhora.
We have made great progress. The villa is now all done, but do not go in today. Wait until tomorrow so that everything can dry properly.”

“I can’t wait to see it!”

“We will start on the barn on Monday.”

“Good. What about the electrician? Did he show up?”

“No, I am afraid not. I tried calling him but I kept getting his voice mail.”

Laura let her breath out loudly in exasperation. “That man drives me crazy. You’d think that with this recession, it wouldn’t be so difficult to get hold of people who want to work. We still have the outdoor lighting to sort out, and he has to have a look at the video intercom system. It’s not reliable at all.”

“I know,
Dona
Laura. If he does not show up on Monday, I will try to find someone else.”

“Yes, I think that would be best. By the way, could you let us have the Bobcat key again this weekend?” she asked, jutting her chin at the skid-steer loader that was neatly parked in the driveway. “We’d like to do a bit more landscaping.”

“
Sim, claro
. Just make sure you do not hurt yourselves.”

“Don’t worry. We’ve become proficient at driving it around. I want to work on the pond at the far end of the
quinta.
”

“But you already have a pond over here. Why do you need another one way on the other side of the property?”

“This one is a fish pond. The other one is for frogs, newts and, hopefully, herons and mallards,” she grinned. “I want to move those huge boulders to make a rocky outcrop to make it look more attractive.”

Senhor
Manuel shook his head as he bent down to pick up his toolbox. Why anyone would go to so much trouble for a bunch of lousy animals was beyond him. Seeing him crouch and knowing what was coming, Laura quickly averted her eyes. Why was it all the tradesmen who came to her house sagged their jeans? Not as a fashion statement, but simply because of a bad fit. And she wanted to keep seeing hairy backsides like she wanted more cellulite.

“Come on, princess, let’s change into something more comfortable. Here, take these leggings and this sweater, and don’t forget to put your uniform in the wash. Don’t leave it lying around on the floor!”

Laura went into her bedroom, kicked off her shoes in relief and wiggled her toes. The person who invented high heels should be shot. A man, no doubt, who’d never had to wear them himself. No matter, now that she was home, she could change into the real her: hiking boots, a sweater and khaki cargo pants with multiple leg pockets for keeping cell phones, keys and remote controls.

She threw herself down on her bed and stared up at the ceiling, allowing the riot of emotions to wash over her again. No, no, no, this wouldn’t do. She was acting like a silly teenager drooling over some high school heartthrob.

Pull yourself together, woman! You have a life, you have responsibilities
...

As if to drive that point home, Vanessa set up a loud chant in the kitchen.

“Mommy, I’m hungry! Mommy, I’m hungry!”

“Okay, okay, I’m coming! Shame, you poor child. Didn’t they feed you at school today?”

“Yes, but the food was horrible, not as bad as yours, but still horrible.”

“Oh really, milady? Is that a fact? Well, in that case I’ll just have to tickle you and tickle you until you take that back!”

Laura lunged forward, grabbed her daughter, pinned her down on the kitchen floor and tickled her till she shrieked with laughter.