The sun had just set as he slipped away. She’d been holding his hand, lost in her own thoughts, wondering when he would go. She’d been gazing out to the horizon watching the sun dipping ever lower in the sky, painting the clouds with touches of pink and gold. It was as the sky turned from gold to orange to deep crimson that she felt the grip on her hand loosen. He was gone.
“Yes, yes, I know. You’ll be back on Friday and I have to make sure your dinner suit is ready. Yes, I know I’m cooking dinner on Saturday for 8 of us. Do you want me to email the menu for approval?” She couldn’t resist the hint of sarcasm, though she knew if he picked up on it she would regret it. But he’d been too busy stowing his bag and briefcase in the back of the Jag. “Got to go, I’ve got a long way to go and I can’t afford to be late.” With a perfunctory peck on her cheek he was gone.
“Tenerife, that’s where I’ll go.” She’d heard so much about Tenerife, the beaches, mountains, sunshine, the friendly people. She’d been learning Spanish in her spare time and was reasonably confident that she could manage a basic conversation. “Oh, to get away from the winter and the long dark nights.”
She’d been 20 when they met. Her home life had been hazardous to say the least, living with parents who both had a short fuse on their tempers. She learned very early on to make herself scarce when an argument erupted and to never, ever answer back. He’d seemed like a knight in shining armour coming to rescue her. How she’d longed to be loved. It had seemed to be the perfect marriage. To everyone else. Not to her.
“What did you think of the meal tonight love? Do you think your guests enjoyed it?” she asked, desperate for some hint of positive feedback from him. “What? Why are you asking? They cleared their plates didn’t they?” The look he gave her was scornful. She was used to it, but it still hurt. Trying again she asked “did you get the deal wrapped up? Did it go okay?” The men had disappeared to his study whilst she did her best to entertain the wives.
Her thoughts drifted to Tenerife. “Perhaps I could get a late deal. I’ll look online.” There was enough money in the bank for her to go wherever she wanted. She’d start with Tenerife and maybe get more adventurous later.
It had been two years since the cancer scare. A routine check up at the doctors had revealed some abnormal cells and she’d had a colposcopy. She’d been sick with worry waiting for the results but it had come back clear. She hadn’t told her mother, only her best friend. He hadn’t been interested. “You’ll be fine” he’d said when she asked him to go to the hospital with her. She still remembered the argument when she’d explained that she wouldn’t be well enough to drive after the procedure. In the end her friend had taken her.
Why was she such a doormat? She was furious with herself. After ten years of a lonely marriage it was obvious that he would never really love her for who she was. He scoffed when she wanted to do teacher training saying her job was to look after him. He was tolerant when she went out to yoga, though she’d had to lie and say the teacher was a woman. It would not have gone down well if she’d told him the teacher was a fit young man. She couldn’t understand his jealousy, she’d not done anything to provoke it.
Tenerife was lovely. Just what she’d needed after the previous few months. Determined to put them behind her she walked along the promenade pausing to watch the beach volleyball players in Los Cristianos. The waiter at “her” restaurant greeted her. “Good morning Senorita, Buenos Dias. What can I get for you today?” She smiled at his greeting. He knew full well that she was a Senora, not a Senorita but it still made her feel good. Each day she felt a little younger as if her cares were lifting off her shoulders. Every morning she’d rolled out her yoga mat and done her sun salutations. She’d been up extra early that morning. The sky had still been dark, the moon and stars visible. “Moon salutations” she’d thought as she stretched her body into upward dog and downward dog.
It shouldn’t have surprised her really. They barely had sex once a month. She was on the pill as he’d made it clear he didn’t want her getting pregnant. But there it was, he’d been cheating on her. Why else did he have a condom in his trouser pocket? She wondered if he’d left it there deliberately when he’d told her to take the suit to be dry cleaned. He must have known she would empty the pockets. She’d confronted him and he’d tried to bluff his way out of it. “It’s not mine, I found it in the hotel bathroom and put it in my pocket.”
“Really? What kind of fool do you take me for?” Suddenly all the nights away from home “working”, the late evenings at the office made sense. The frequent phone calls from his secretary, the way he shut his study door when she called. “It’s her isn’t it? Your secretary.”
“Yes, it is” he’d exploded “what made you think I’d be faithful to you? For God’s sake woman, you’re pathetic. All you do is keep house, cook and go and do your silly yoga stuff. Did you think I didn’t know the teacher is a man? I had him checked out. Have you been doing some extra positions with him? I know all about these men, they only run classes so they can prey on women like you. Pathetic woman.”
She’d stepped away from him, stunned by the vitriol he was spewing. She felt sick. He’d been spying on her and said nothing. What a fool she’d been to think he wouldn’t.
“You needn’t think you’re going to divorce me. You’ll get nothing. I’ll make sure of that. You’ll get exactly half of nothing.” She’d covered her ears and run from the room.
At dinner that evening she noticed a man about her own age sitting at the next table. He was alone, like her. He looked up and smiled and went back to eating his meal. Out of the corner of her eye she looked at him. Blonde hair, blue eyes. Warm smile. He looked to be a little taller than her and slim. She returned her attention to her own meal until she heard the man chatting in Spanish to the waiter. She wondered if he lived on the island, but he was as pale skinned as she was.
The solicitor she’d been to see had been very kind. “He’s a bit of a bully isn’t he, but he will have to pay you, there’s no question of that. Sit tight, whatever you do don’t leave the marital home and we’ll serve the divorce papers on him. If he gets abusive keep a diary of whatever happens and if you feel in any way threatened or in danger call the police.”
He’d been apoplectic when she told him she was filing for divorce. “You can’t, I won’t let you.” She’d kept a diary as instructed and lost count of the number of times she had called the police when he became threatening or abusive. He was clever. He never physically attacked her. It was a constant stream of vitriol, “breaking” her things, hiding her jewelry, slashing her clothes. She moved into the spare room and had a lock put on the door. He kicked the door down.
After dinner she wandered out onto the terrace and chose a seat where she could watch the sunset. It was her favourite place to sit. Peaceful, where she would not be disturbed. She sipped her sangria, wondering if she would see her fellow diner again. He’d seemed like a nice man, smiling and laughing as he’d chatted to the waiter.
The last argument had been awful. He’d been drinking whisky all evening and she’d tried to stay out of his way. “You’re still my wife, I’m still paying for you to live here so you can damn well share my bed tonight” he’d snarled, gripping her wrist tightly as she tried to get away. He was bigger than her, heavy and thickset. As she struggled with him, his face turning redder and redder she wondered what she had ever seen in him. He let go her wrist suddenly and she fell to the floor, hitting her head. He clutched his chest his face contorting in pain. She was suddenly scared as he collapsed and fell heavily on top of her. She could barely breathe. The weight of his body was crushing her.
“No, no, no. Let it go.” She thought, taking a large gulp of her sangria. “It’s over, over, over. Why had she thought of it again, would she ever be free of the memories?”
“Are you okay? You looked a bit distressed then. Do you mind if I join you?” It was the man from dinner.
“Oh, no. I mean yes. Sorry, I’m not making a lot of sense am I? I don’t mind if you join me, I just got a bit lost in a bad memory and I’d be grateful for the company.”
“I’m not surprised you sit here, it’s a great view of the sunset isn’t it? Hi, I’m Mark by the way. I could use some company too.”
They chatted for the next few hours as if they were old friends who had known each other for years. She felt more comfortable and at ease with a man than she could ever remember. She discovered he was a Spanish teacher and came to Tenerife as often as he could. “I wish I could claim it as a legitimate expense to keep my Spanish skills up to scratch” he’d joked.
“Are you here on your own? A beautiful woman like you? No husband? I’ve noticed you doing yoga and walking on your own.”
“No, no husband not anymore. He died.” She’d felt dazed from hitting her head and his body seemed to be pressing more heavily down on her. She couldn’t hear him breathing any more. She wondered if she should tell him that as she’d lain underneath her husband, she’d debated with herself whether or not to call an ambulance. In the end her conscience kicked in and she’d struggled to heave his body off her and wriggle free. Too late.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry” he said, taking her hand in his.
“It’s okay, really, it’s okay. It wasn’t a happy marriage. I feel like I’ve been set free, liberated, I’m happy for the first time in years.”
Their attention was caught by the spectacle of the setting sun and the blaze of colours across the sky. The sun dipped lower and lower in the sky and still they sat, silent. She wondered if she’d scared him off by telling him that she felt liberated, freed by her husband’s death. “Well if I have it’s too bad, I’m not going to lie any more to myself or anyone else.”
She felt the grip on her hand loosen and he was gone. She sat still, waiting for the sadness to hit, but it didn’t. “It was just a nice friendly chat, a pleasant evening.” She thought, secretly hoping that she would see him again.
“I’m back. You were lost in thought and I didn’t want to disturb you.” He dangled a car key from his hand. “Come on, I want you to go change. Get some warm clothing, a jumper and a blanket from your room. There’s something I want to show you.”
A few minutes later he led her out to his car. He carried a bag with him. “Some extra clothes, blankets and refreshments courtesy of the waiter. He didn’t want the lovely senorita to be hungry or cold.”
She looked at him quizzically. “Where are we going?” she asked.
“Mount Teide. It’s the highest part of the island. The stars are spectacular and there’s no moon tonight.”
It took an hour to drive through the winding roads to the foot of Teide where they parked the car. He held her hand as he led her a little way from the car to where they could sit and stargaze. He was right. Away from all the light pollution the view of the stars was awe inspiring. They sat and chatted, drinking the wine and eating the food he’d brought. It was 3am before they returned to the car wrapping themselves in blankets and snuggling together on the back seat.
“I’ve set an alarm for daybreak, so try and get some sleep” he instructed as he wrapped an arm round her. With her head on his shoulder she felt as if she’d come home, she was exactly where she was supposed to be. She touched a soft kiss to his lips and he returned it.
They were woken by the sky and impending day break. Taking her hand, he led her to a vantage point where they could watch the sunrise. The sky was painted with gold, orange and vermillion as the sun began it’s ascent.
“It’s beautiful.” she said.
“I never tire of coming here and watching the daybreak. It’s like the whole world has been freshly painted with glorious colours. As if Nature’s celebrating the start of a new day, a fresh chance to live life in techni-colour.”
She smiled up at him. Her heart lifted at the idea of each day being a fresh chance to live. Reaching up to kiss him, she let go his hand. “I’ll race you back to the car, loser buys breakfast.”