Page 73 of Atticus Arnott's Great Adventure
‘I had to leave. He might only have been fined, and next time, he would have killed me. Daan didn’t know I had applied for a passport using a post office address. I took trains until I got far away, to Alicante, and then, after a bus ride south, I rented a room in Guardamar until I found the cottage and got a job at the café.’
When their meal arrived, the server took great care to serve the house speciality, Caldero Tabarquino, a seafood stew made with onions, garlic, and tomatoes.
Atticus poured more wine and raised his glass to hers.
‘Thank you for telling me,’ he said. ‘Now I know why it was so hard for you to talk about your life with a husband who should be locked away for life.’ He took a drink, shook his head, then reached for her hand again. ‘But I can promise you that as long as we are together, no harm will ever come to you.’ Atticus smiled. ‘Now let’s celebrate our day with this delicious meal.’
The sun began to dip in the sky as they boarded the ferry to leave the island. Atticus put his arm around Britta, and she lay her head on his shoulder while Ness nestled against their legs. He thought about Britta’s story and wondered how anyone could hurt a woman and be so cruel.
Thank God she had the strength and courage to get away from Daan and make a fresh start on her own,he thought, as the ferry glided across the now-calm waters.
The sky began to transform into a canvas of pinks and purples as the silhouettes of the approaching buildings of Santa Pola were softly illuminated by the sunset. Thebustling waterfront area came into view, and as visitors disembarked at the pier, they were greeted by the sounds of evening life. Laughter, music, and the clinking of glasses welcomed sightseers strolling along the quayside.
‘Thank you for a perfect day,’ Britta said as Atticus helped her climb into Winnie. ‘I will always remember our time on Tabarca.’
Atticus smiled as Winnie chugged to life. He drove away from the town and remembered that Erik had asked earlier if they might catch up that evening.
‘The day isn’t over just yet,’ Atticus said as they headed to La Marina. ‘Would you like to have drinks with Erik at Solma Vacaciones? I’m sure there will be others there, too.’
Britta gazed out at the salt lakes on either side of the road, where flamingos were gathered in the pink glow of the oncoming night. ‘That sounds lovely,’ she whispered. ‘Just as long as I’m with you.’
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Mary no longer felt able to think straight. Another week had passed, and with Christmas only three weeks away, she began to prepare in a daze. Present buying was a blur, and despite asking the children to make their lists for Santa, she felt sure she’d missed something. Usually, she and Conor enjoyed the pleasure of deciding what gifts to surprise the kids with and planning their time together for the precious two weeks he always took off to spend with the family.
But this year, he’d told Mary to go ahead and sort everything out herself. ‘Wasn’t she capable of arranging the simplest of things?’ he’d said. Unsure whether Conor would even be with them for the celebrations, Mary felt like a robot as she endeavoured to do her best.
But on the morning that the new month arrived, December brought in colder weather and when Mary dropped the children off at their schools, she decided to take herself off to the coast. To hell with the washing andironing, and avoiding Roisin’s enquiring eyes. Feeling flat and weary, she needed time on her own and hoped that the sea and a freezing Atlantic wind might knock some sense into her.
Mary drove along the road, passing the car park beside Garrets Beach, where vast stretches of sand were bordered by rugged cliffs near the Old Head of Kindale. She cut the engine and facing the sea, stared out at the crashing waves. The beach was popular with surfers, but it was empty at this time of day, save for a single dog walker. The bustling summer spot, where she often took the children for picnics or to play pitch and putt nearby, was wintry now, becoming shrouded in a moody sea mist that hung like a ghostly veil. Visibility was limited, but as she exited her car, Mary knew she would find her way if she kept to the shore.
Buttoning her quilted coat and wrapping a warm scarf around her neck, Mary turned when a vehicle suddenly appeared, the tyres of a familiar van crunching across the gravel as it pulled up beside her.
‘Rats!’ she murmured when Ruari opened the door. Wearing a thick woollen jacket and slipping his fingers into the pockets, he headed towards her. All she needed was Ruari’s upbeat company on a day when she might debate drowning.
‘Mary!’ he called out. ‘What the devil do you think you’re doing out here on a day like this with the sea mist closing in?’
‘Morning Ruari, and what the devil do you think you’re doing following me to the beach?’ she replied.
‘I wasn’t following you. I’m on my way to aclient, but I recognised your car from the road and knowing that you might not be in the best of moods, thought I’d stop by to prevent you from wandering into the Atlantic.’
The wind was playing havoc with Mary’s hair, and as she brushed strands from her forehead, she stared at Ruari and wondered how on earth he knew she wasn’t in the best of moods. But as she gazed into his sparkling eyes and saw his handsome face crease into a smile, Mary knew he was aware of her marital problems. Roisin’s bush telegraph was doing the rounds, and Mary’s escapade at Conor’s office must now be front-page news.
‘I’m going for a walk, and I didn’t ask for company,’ Mary said, locking her car and beginning to set off.
‘Well, that’s a shame, because I’m going for a walk too, and it looks like we’re going in the same direction.’
Mary rolled her eyes. It was hopeless trying to argue with Ruari. He was a determined force, and as he stepped beside her, she felt his arm reach out and link with her own. The air was cold and damp, and tiny droplets of moisture from the mist clung to her skin as a sharp wind cut across their bodies. But Ruari’s arm felt comforting, warm, and supportive, and she realised that other than cuddles with the kids, she’d missed the feel of another human during the long, lonely days since she’d confirmed Conor’s affair.
‘Now, why don’t you tell me all about it?’ Ruari said as he steered them over pebbles, carefully avoiding the frothy lace that came and went with the high tide.
‘Tell you about what?’ Mary played dumb, unsure of what she wanted to disclose to the brother of Kindale’s biggest mouthpiece.
‘You’re the talk of the town with your airborne meals-on-wheels.’ Ruari laughed. ‘The Amateur Dramatic Society wants to book you for this year’s pantomime.’
‘Oh God, does everyone know?’
‘The staff at the office of Murphy’s Auctioneers have had a whip-round for a fancy Christmas hamper for you in the hope that you’ll repeat the performance.’
