THE HOUSE SITTER

10:13 PM - Posted by Unknown - 0 comments

by Mary Tennant


“I swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.” Alicia could not believe that it was her voice in the courtroom. She was standing on the witness stand with her hand on a Bible. It was just like in the movies. This was the first time she had ever been in a courtroom, let alone as the person being interrogated.  
‘How had it come to this?’ she thought.
She told the whole truth. The woman issuing the order gave her a sympathetic glance. She must have looked a sight with her swollen, black, bandaged eye. A few days later someone would ask her, “Did your husband do that to you?”
“If she comes near you, you call the police,” the woman was saying “if you’re in a mall and you see her, just walk up to a security guard and stay there.” Alicia shivered.


“She is good at playing the victim.” Her friend Lisa handed her a coffee.
“How do you know, you never met Kate?” said Alicia.
“All that stuff about being a single Mum and never having enough money to get by, there are plenty of single mothers who manage to sort out their lives without the need to be dependent on others.”
That was just it, Alicia had felt sorry for Kate and it seemed to be a good solution for them both.
“I wish you had told me that before,” she said.
“You wouldn’t have taken any notice.”
“The strange thing was that I think she began to think that my house was hers and that I was the intruder!”
“Did you ever see the movie Fatal Attraction?” Lisa said.


Alicia had met Kate the year before. They were cyclists in the same club and had ridden a gruelling 640-kilometre charity ride together with 38 other riders. During the six months of training prior to the big event, they had swapped life stories. Kate had confided in Alicia that it was a struggle to keep her son in school. She had raised him alone and had wanted to give him a good life, the jobs she had were demanding and she had put her life on hold to see him through his studies. She was constantly looking for ways to save money and looking after other people’s houses when they were away was one way to do that.  
Alicia had spent many hours out riding with Kate and she felt that she knew her well enough to ask if she would like to house sit for her whilst she and her husband were in Chile for two years.  Kate jumped at the opportunity. She moved in as soon as Alicia and her husband vacated the house and moved the furniture around to suit her liking.  
The large two story, four bedroom house was a cut above any that Kate had ever lived in. It was in a well to do suburb on the coast and had sweeping ocean views. The kitchen and two bathrooms had been recently decorated, and the dining room had a wall of glass that looked out onto a beautiful garden and swimming pool. From the upstairs balcony she could look across the Indian Ocean. It was the first time in her life that she did not have to share a bathroom with anyone. Her son had the whole of the top floor to himself complete with a large study and TV room. The coastal strip was dotted with busy cafes catering to locals after a dip in the ocean or early morning run. She loved it. And no rent to pay, all she had to do was look after the property. Alicia and her husband paid for a man to do maintenance on the pool and garden.
She envied her friend Alicia.
She jokingly told friends that she was living in the Ritz and had them over as guests to show off her new abode.  And it was hers for two years! When she had a falling out with her boss she decided to take a three-month break from work, after all there was no rent to pay, and it was summer and she could enjoy the beach and have some time to herself for a change.   
The one minor hiccup was that when Alicia and her husband were home on leave they wanted their house back.  At first this seemed like as easy thing to accommodate – after all their visits were short and infrequent. She planned to go and stay with her brother when they were home.
Five months before her return Alicia emailed to tell Kate when she would be home. Kate felt put out and began to feel resentment towards her. The idea of staying with her brother became less attractive. She looked into renting a place for a few weeks but that was expensive and she didn’t feel she should have to out of pocket just because Alicia was taking a holiday. She could not understand why Alicia and her husband could not stay in a hotel whilst they were home, after all they were rich. But she could hardly tell them how she felt because they might ask her to leave and she was not going to do that. She decided to stay quiet and hoped that it would all work out.
She told Alicia that she was going to stay and Alicia had said, “That should be fine, there’s plenty of room in the house and I will be coming and going seeing friends.” Alicia’s husband was not accompanying her on this visit.

But Kate’s anger built.

Alicia’s dog had been staying with friends. She knew that Kate had a dog-called Fluffy, but naively thought that they could all get along for the short time that she was home on leave. Kate was at work when she was dropped off in a taxi and Fluffy had greeted her at the door. She was surprised that he had been locked inside the house alone all day, she normally left her dog outside when she was not at home.  
For the first few days Kate and Alicia got along very well. Alicia sorted out the odd jobs that were easy to see to and made an effort to be a gracious guest in her own home. She cooked meals and they sat on the balcony at night sharing a wine and gossip after Kate returned from work.
But Kate’s anger mounted, she felt trapped. Despite this she said nothing.
A few days later Alicia bought her dog home as arranged and that was when the trouble started. When the dogs met, there was a scuffle, then a growl and then Alicia’s dog bit Fluffy on the ear. It wasn’t pretty; Alicia took her dog back to her friends, explaining that she had been a bit silly to think that the two dogs could live together peacefully. The morning after the dogfight Kate came storming into the dining room where Alicia was having breakfast and screamed.
“I can’t live with you, this is Fluffy’s house.”   
Alicia was taken by surprise. ‘What is she saying? Fluffy is a dog and this is my house.’  
“You should never have got me into this! I have a busy schedule in the next few weeks, a new and demanding job, and some long rides on the weekends with the club!”
Alicia was speechless. She stared at Kate all the time trying to make sense of what was happening and why her friend had turned on her so dramatically and forcefully.
All she could muster was, “I don’t know what you are talking about. I thought that was what house sitting was?”
“You are a fucking liar!” With that Kate stormed out of the room slamming the door behind her.
Alicia had shared houses with friends in the past.  She knew it wasn’t an easy arrangement but so long as there was mutual respect it was up to both parties to make it work. Kate had the most to gain since for the next year the house was hers, rent-free!
Alicia broke into a cold sweat recalling an earlier skype call when Kate had jokingly said, “I’m looking into squatter’s rights.”

The next day she returned home and found Kate’s son’s towel hanging in her bathroom. She started to feel a bit creepy, ‘this feels like a contest for territory,’ she thought. But she had resolved to discuss matters with Kate in a rational manner. After all, she reasoned with herself, we are both adults; surely we can reach a sensible solution.
When next she saw Kate, Alicia asked, “Can we have a chat about things, I think we need to talk.”
“You’re fucking right we need to talk, I am not going to leave your house, you lied to me, you said you would be away for two years, and you never told me you were coming home in that time.” She stared straight at Alicia, her face contorted with rage, and continued. “You always get everything your way, well this time you are not going to, I’m going to make sure of that. All my friends agree with me that you have put me into an extremely awkward position. I wish we had never met but I’m damn well going to make sure you pay for it!”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were thinking like this five months ago when I emailed to say I was coming home? We have been in regular communication and you never mentioned a word of this to me. What’s more the arrangement was always that we have access to our home.” Alicia could feel her body shake and was at a loss about how to deal with this unexpected, forceful behaviour.   
“I was devastated when I got that email. Do you know how hard it was for me to move into your house? I am not leaving!” She stormed out of the room and slammed the door.
Alicia found herself going back in her mind to the time when her daughters were teenagers and they endured a few turbulent years. This was a classical teenage tantrum, illogical, hysterical complete with slamming doors!
‘What now,’ she thought, ‘how do I resolve this?’
This second outrageous outburst left Alicia paralysed. She moved to the couch and sat motionless for hours trying to make sense of what was happening and how to solve it. Kate’s outbursts were upsetting, but it was her threat of not leaving her house that was really beginning to frighten her.
“It’s as though she feels threatened by me being here.” She told her husband by Skype, later that day.  
Her husband was worried and felt helpless being so far away.
“Get a lawyer.” He said.  
She did not make it to the bathroom and vomited on the carpet, this was too much to cope with.


Her lawyer did not mince his words “Call the police, she is trespassing.” Alicia was quite taken back at such a strong reaction.  
“The police? Is there a kinder way to approach this?” she asked.
“Well you could get a mediator in,” he replied. “You often find that people do not act irrationally in front of their friends. Try asking a mutual friend to come over and you might be able to reach a joint agreement. And by the way plug the police number into your phone. When people are under severe stress it can be hard to remember numbers.”


Alicia feared that Kate was going to make life hell for her and began to think that if she did not get her out of her home before she was due to return to Chile, she never would.
She decided to go to the police station and talk to someone and was delighted to meet a kindly policeman.  
“Your lawyer is right,” he said. “Nine times out of ten you can solve these situations by just talking. But I will take your phone number and address.”
With this advice Alicia felt a little better, now at least she had a plan and felt that she was gaining control of the situation. She decided to ask a friend if he could come to the meeting, that way they both had an advocate. So convinced was she that Kate would agree to this, that she even set a time for her friend to come the next day.  
When she returned to her home, there was an email from Kate.

Alicia
I am going to get out of your house as soon as I can. This is a ridiculous situation you have put me into. I am completely stressed out. I need time to find a place so in the mean time we will live our separate lives in the house and I don’t want you speaking to either me or my son.
I cannot deal with stress at home as well as at work. You’re the one who put me into this situation so you will just have to put up with it till we move out.
You cannot possibly think that you can have your dog in the house that will attack Fluffy at any chance.
Kate
PS do not respond to this email. I do not want to correspond by email.

“My dog isn’t here.” Alicia screamed at the computer.   
When Kate returned home from work she went straight to the downstairs bathroom to get ready to take her son to a concert. He was upstairs in the study. Alicia came down the stairs and asked Kate if they could talk before she went out.  
“There is nothing to bloody talk about,” she screamed “I sent you an email, I will get out of this fucking house as soon as possible, there is nothing more I can do!”
“Please don’t swear like that in front of your son.” Alicia replied in a calm and determined voice.  
“I will fucking say what I like in front of my son!” Kate’s voice grew even louder and more aggressive.
“We need to discuss a few things and I think it would be good if we could do that with some friends here, do you have someone you could invite over tomorrow so that we can sit down and have a rational discussion?  My friend can come at two.”
“We have nothing to discuss, I told you I’m leaving, what more do you want?”
Alicia retreated to her upstairs bathroom, she felt backed against a wall. ‘But this is my home,’ she thought.


She went back down the stairs and was half way down when Kate came flying out of the downstairs bathroom.
“What now, what more do you want from me?”
“We need to discuss things in a rational way Kate, you are not being reasonable and we can’t live like this. I am proposing that we sit down and have a chat so that we both know where we are coming from.” Alicia was surprised at how calm and determined she was.  
“Is there someone you can ask to come over, what about your brother?”
Kate screwed up her face. “No, but I have spoken to Tom about this, you know.” Tom was a lawyer who they both knew.  
“Great, do you think he would come over then?” Alicia thought Tom would be the perfect choice.  
“I could ask Sherry,” Kate said. “But not tomorrow maybe next week-end.” Sherry was another cyclist that both had met in their club. Alicia would have preferred Tom but thought that perhaps Kate had not spoken to him at all and this was her compromise.    
“Great,” she said, “But it can’t wait till next week. It has to be tomorrow.”
“No. Why aren’t you listening to me? I can’t do it this weekend!”
Again Alicia retreated to her bathroom, the only place she felt safe in her home. “I can’t live like this,” she thought.   


She walked slowly down the stairs a third time, Kate was blow drying her hair, Alicia would have preferred that they sat down to discuss things, but Kate gave no indication that she would spare her the time. She came flying out of the bathroom, still holding her hair dryer, hostility written all over her face.
Equally Alicia was determined to bring this conflict to a head, she was not going to spend any more time in her home with all this screaming, slamming of doors and antagonism, she was halfway down the stairs, when she spoke.
“Ok Kate this is the deal,” she started, “I rang a lawyer today.” Kate moved closer to the stairs, her face twisted in anger.
“He said I have two options, the first is that we sit down with a mutual friend to discuss this problem rationally and the second is…” She did not get time to finish her sentence because she saw the hairdryer flying through the air with such a force that she could not get out of it’s way. It hit her on the side of her eye cutting it and blood rushed down her face.
She went to her room, her hands shaking violently; she scrolled through the numbers and found “police.” Her lawyer was right.
“I’ve just been assaulted by my house sitter,” she said.
A very kind police officer spoke calmly to her and stayed on the line talking to her until the police arrived.
When the doorbell rang she went to answer it and for the first time Kate saw the damage she had done, the blood streaming down Alicia’s face. Kate gave her an angry quizzical look as if to say, “Whom have you called?” but when she saw the policeman at the door, her expression changed and she turned to Alicia and said softly, “Oh my God what have I done?”
‘My lawyer was right,’ thought Kate ‘It took a policeman to show her how badly she was behaving.’


As Alicia left the court with a violence restraining order in her hand she thought, ‘well I may have a cut, swollen, black eye but at least I have my home back!’


THE SUMMER VISIT

10:06 PM - Posted by Unknown - 0 comments

by Marianne Urth

“It's no good trying to keep up old friendships. It's painful for
both sides.  The fact is, one grows out of people, and the only
thing is to face it.”
 ~Somerset Maugham

“Hello darling, so good to see you.”
Ingeborg gave me a stiff polite hug, patting me on the shoulder, smiling. She had managed to get through customs after they had realized that the five oversized bottles in her suitcase contained water. Her mouth was the first thing you noticed. It was big with expressive lips and her overlapping front teeth added a forgiving feature to her smile.
“You made it! I am so happy,” and I was, because it was the first time a friend had travelled that far to see me.
I had watched her go through customs from the platform above the arrivals. I hadn’t seen her for fifteen years but I recognized her immediately. She was wearing jeans and a loose fitting linen blouse, a poor attempt to hide the bulging stomach, a sure sign of too little exercise and probably too much wine. Her hair was cut in a short and practical way. The green glasses, matching her eyes, were shaped like polygons, indeed appropriate for an elementary school math teacher.
She had announced in an email that she had finally found time and money to come and see how I lived. The news had caught me off guard so I had agreed to her visit with an encouraging invitation. Maybe I felt I owed her a favor? I wasn't sure if we still had anything in common after so many years.
After I moved away I had lost all contact with her. I knew she had married and had a kid. Back when we were students we often went to an Irish Pub with live rock music. On Saturday nights the bar would be packed with loud dancing people. We sat in a corner until the early hours, trying to have a conversation over the blasting music, drinking exotic drinks Ingeborg had paid for.
I started our conversation in the car by excusing the lack of water in the city caused by a landslide in the mountains near the water reservoirs.
“You might not be able to get a shower immediately,” I explained.
“Luckily I brought my own water,” she waved her water bottle in front of me, smiling but it wasn’t a joke because her suitcase was literally full of water bottles. As we drove off to the lake house, Ingeborg didn’t pay much attention to the landscape, she was absorbed in telling me about her son.
“Jonas is a wonderful clarinet player,” she said, unscrewing the lid to her water bottle. “Last year he played at a Christmas market and after only half an hour he had earned enough money to buy himself a new computer game.”
“He must be good,” I said.
“He wants to become a musician.” Without having to look at her face, I could hear she was proud of him.
“Hmm, what does your husband say to that?”
“You mean ex-husband, right?” She turned her head towards me.
“Oh, I am sorry … I didn’t know,” I said.
She looked over the brim of her glasses with one eyebrow lifted. Her voice was matter-of-factly when she said; “Well, that´s all right, he just wasn’t the right guy. We got divorced when Jonas was only a year old. Anyway...,” she sighed, “he would prefer Jonas went to university, obviously.”
She drank from her water bottle but her hand had moved too briskly and she had spilled on her blouse, leaving a visible wet stain; her rubbing it only made it worse. “But I have this very close friend, she is a doctor. Her son wants to go to the music academy and she supports his idea one hundred percent,” Ingeborg said. “Wouldn’t you?”
“Well here in Chile it’s different. It’s hard to live a comfortable life as a musician,” I said.
We were driving behind an old pickup truck loaded to the brim with mattresses, plastic chairs and blankets. I even saw the glimpse of a stove. Inside the car, four adults and a child were squeezed together on the back seat. The driver’s hairy, fleshy arm lay comfortably in the open window, as the pickup advanced slowly on the hot asphalt road towards the lake.
“I think one should choose the career that makes you happy. After all money is not everything.” Ingeborg screwed back the lid of her water bottle with a determined expression.  
I finally managed to overtake the pick up truck. Ingeborg examined the load as we passed it.
“Where are they going with all that stuff?” She said.
“Camping.” I said.
“Geez. Do they have to bring their own stove? It looks like they are moving. Why don't they just rent a bungalow?
“I guess they can't afford that, so they take everything they own with them when they go on vacations.”
I could sense she wasn't really interested because she changed the subject, telling me about her life in Brussels as a teacher in the European School. Being far away from home obviously inspired her to talk about her own experiences abroad but she didn't seem to grasp the reality she had right in front of her eyes. It was like she was inside a huge air bubble and didn't want anybody to burst it.
We finally reached the lake house. Roberto and the kids had cleaned the whole house and put flowers in a vase on the dining table. They had all come to the front door to welcome the guest, wary about having a teacher visiting them during their vacations but also curious to see who this Danish friend was.  
“You have absolutely beautiful kids,” she commented, shaking hands with each of them. They were expecting the customary cheek kiss but had gotten the Danish stiff and rather impersonal handshake instead. The physical awkwardness of the situation, combined with the outspoken compliment, left everybody bashful and without words.  
“They take after their father,” my husband said jokingly, he knew how to keep a conversation going. I looked at him. His two weeklong beard matched his brown eyes in a relaxed way. It was going to be easier entertaining Ingeborg with him around.
“Of course they do,” Ingeborg said and winked at him. A teacher knows how to handle a proud father or maybe she was flirting with him? That was something I hadn’t considered.


At the lake there wasn’t any shortage of water so Ingeborg had a long shower. Hearing the water pump run and thinking helplessly about the shortage of water back in town, an uneasy feeling started to stir inside me, even though I didn’t want it to surface just yet.
Ingeborg finished her shower and came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel, leaving a cloud of hot steam trailing after her. Her hair had disappeared in a white towel turban.
She stood in front on me with her hairdryer in one hand, silently holding my gaze. Her skin was still moist. I noticed a water drop trickle down her neck. We used to go swimming together back then. I remembered her body had been lean and strong and I had often wished we could have switched bodies. I shuddered, now I didn’t want to switch.
“Do you have an adapter for this one?” She said.
I brought the adapter to her room. I couldn’t help noticing the water bottles in her suitcase, which was spread wide open on the bed. The water bottles took up most of the space. How could she honestly think she needed to bring her own water? Why had I never noticed how unpractical she was. I guess because we had never travelled together.
“Sorry, I didn’t have time to buy any presents for your kids.” She explained in a low, conspiratorial voice so the kids wouldn’t hear “I wasn’t sure if my luggage was going to be overweight.”
“Sure,” I nodded, bewildered. I couldn’t believe her lack of education; I felt once again how different we were and it made me realize how much I had changed during my years abroad. Having visitors was like looking into a mirror but what was reflected wasn’t the image you had grown into. Meeting up with people from the past transported you back in time to when the friendship started and that was how you were expected to behave.


Ingeborg had joined me in the kitchen. I was preparing dinner as fast as I could, sensing everybody was hungry.
“This is a wonderful place. You have all the toys one could possibly wish for, don’t you?” She pointed at the floating wharf in front of the house where several watercrafts and boats were tied up. “I see why you like coming here.”
I took the plates out so the kids could start setting the table.
“But don’t you ever get bored? I mean, don’t you miss travelling?” Ingeborg´s voice sounded as if she was having trouble breathing. “At one stage I also thought about buying a holiday house,” she continued, her voice more controlled now. “But then again, it ties you to one place, doesn’t it?” She moved restlessly on the chair. “Do you have a beer? I need a beer.”
“I guess you just can’t do it all, can you?” I said and gave her a beer.  
I was wondering if travelling really was what I wanted to do at this stage of my life. There had been a time where globetrotting had been my only aspiration, getting to know the world, meeting new people. Now it didn't seem so meaningful.
Dinner was ready. The table had been set outside on the terrace. It was late and already dark. A night breeze made the candles flicker and mosquitoes landed on the plates. The kids were agitated, tired and anxious to eat. Roberto was about to sit down at his usual spot at the end of the table when Ingeborg dragged his chair away from the table.
“These dining chairs are so similar to the Danish design chairs I have at home,” Ingeborg said, turning the chair upside down to see the manufacturing label. “These are copies, aren’t they? Made in China I suppose.” She laughed as if she had just told a funny joke.
Roberto looked at me as if he suspected something had gone wrong in the translation from Danish to English. I could almost hear him say, is this woman out of her mind? What is she doing checking out my chairs? I ignored his look and urged him with my eyes to take a seat. I knew this was her style. Not that I wanted to excuse it. She had always been excessively bold and outspoken. Fifteen years ago I had found it refreshing and provocative but now I wasn’t so sure.
Roberto helped me pass the food around. Everybody was hungry and the meal was a pleasant distraction from the tense atmosphere. For a while I let the kids do the talking to fill in the empty spaces in the grown-ups’ conversation.
“This is truly scrumptious,” Ingeborg said, licking her fingers loudly. “In Brussels I went to this famous Michelin restaurant, L’Epicerie. They had the most exotic dishes.”
She stabbed the fork into the last piece of meat on the serving plate and scooped it onto her plate. I was about to tell her to cut it into smaller pieces, as she stuffed it all into her mouth and continued talking.
“Watermelon jelly on linseed biscuits. I am telling you, it was delicious!” She was finished and leaned back in her chair with an exhausted sigh. “Could I have another glass of that wonderful wine?” She held up her wine glass with a nonchalant move of her wrist. My husband filled it again. The kids cleared the table, they were happy to leave us alone.
“In Brussels it was packed with these filthy rich people driving their kids to school in golden Porsches. They think just because they have money they can treat you like rubbish.” Her cheeks were becoming red and her polygon glasses sat a little crooked on her nose. “Once a father asked me how much he had to pay me to get his kid through Middle School. Geez! I told him money is not everything.”
“Money doesn't buy you happiness but it does bring you a more pleasant form of misery,” Roberto said in an attempt to bring humor into the conversation.
That didn't go down well. Ingeborg placed her wine glass in front of her with an aggressive gesture, and leaned forward resting her elbows on the table. She looked straight at Roberto with squinting, defiant eyes as if she had discovered some connection between that father in Brussels and my husband.
“How many employees do you have, Rob?” Her voice was low, almost a growl. “How much is your yearly profit? Do you share it with your employees? Or do you keep it all to yourself?”
I looked at Ingeborg. What was this thing about money? Why did she get so upset all of a sudden? And why was she attacking Roberto?
“I think I will go to bed.” Roberto stood up to put an end to Ingeborg´s inquisition, his face all red. I could see he was about to explode.
“Well, that’s too bad,” Ingeborg looked at me. “We were having such a nice conversation.”
I wasn't sure if she was being sarcastic or if she really meant it. She reminded me of an angry dog which successfully had chased an enemy off his territory. She clearly had had too much to drink. Roberto kissed me goodnight and left me alone with her.  
She got up and sat in Roberto´s chair, so she was right next to me.
“I suggest we call it a day,” I said, folding my napkin and shuffling my feet to get up.
“No, wait,” Ingeborg touched my arm so I would stay. She wiped her mouth with her napkin, gathering herself with a profound exhale. I could smell her damp breath, the alcohol had made her gaze unsteady, the eyelids closed involuntarily whilst she tried to look into my eyes. “Are you happy here, darling?” she had changed into Danish now.
“I guess….” I said. Why was I letting her go that far? I had to throw the ball back into her court. “What about you? Are you…happy?” I asked.
“Darling,” her voice was smooth, like satin sheets. “Let´s go and see the world. You and me together.”
“What do you mean?” I felt uncomfortable the way the conversation was going. It bothered me how little she seemed to know about me. I pushed the chair away from the table and stood up. “I can't just leave like that, don't you see,” I said.
Ingeborg also got up and stood right in front of me “Darling, you don’t want to stay here forever, do you?”
My arms were hanging limp by my sides. She took a step towards me, reached out and grasped my wrists.
“You want to be a bored housewife for the rest of your life?” She looked into my eyes and lowered her voice. “Do you remember when we used to swim together?” A flirting smile appeared in the corner of her mouth. “And we did this,” she lifted my chin with one finger and placed a light kiss on my lips. I jolted back as if I had tasted a bitter fruit.
“What are you doing?” I tried to wrestle myself out of her grip, but I couldn´t.
“Kiss me,” she moaned, hugging me. “I know you want to.”  
“Let go of me. Ingeborg! You´re drunk.”
I struggled to get away from her but she was too strong. She tightened her arms around my neck in a desperate cling as if I was a life raft. The choking sensation made me even more desperate and I tried to push her away, sending uncontrolled punches into her stomach and ribcage like a boxer held in a clinch. She had to let go of my neck, and my fist landed hard in her face. She slid down to the floor, covering her mouth with both hands, blood was trickling out between her fingers.
“What´s wrong with you?” She sobbed. “I thought you wanted me to come...you know I like women, don't you?” Her voice barely audible.
“But Ingeborg...” I was still panting. “Open your eyes, look around. I have a life here, my family. I am not looking for anything else.”
“ I thought you were,” she said. “I am sorry.”
“I am sorry too.” I said.
It wasn’t until the next day when Roberto had taken her back to town to find her a hotel and a dentist, I discovered the wounds on my knuckles. I had punched her so hard in the mouth that the overlapping front tooth had been knocked loose. There would be no more forgiving features to Ingeborg´s smiles.