Page 3 of They Found Us
A frown I haven’t seen for years crosses his brow. I knew something strange was going to happen today. I sensed it. I’ve felt uneasy all day. We should never have had to install that phone in the first place.
Deciding that now is not the time to push for more answers, I say, “Let’s sit down and finish our dinner.” I return to the table and sit next to Mark, who has almost finished his spaghetti bolognese. His cheeks and hands are stained orange, evidence of him having thoroughly enjoyed it.
“No, I’m not hungry. I need to think.” Leo opens the top cupboard in the kitchen and pulls out a tin. He removes the lid and takes out a cigar and lighter.
I watch as he lights it, the smoke instantly encircling his head. The sight brings back memories of a very different time in our lives. It’s years since I’ve seen him smoke. He quit when we moved onto Nuova Vita Island.
After a moment of remembering how we came to be together, I realise the seriousness of what he is doing. “Leo, get outside with that. Don’t let Mark breathe it in!”Or me,I think, as I rub my heavily pregnant stomach.
Leo suddenly pulls himself from his distraction and realises his mistake. “Sorry.”
I open the door and usher Leo out, wafting the smoke along with him.
After I’ve finished my dinner and cleared the table, Leo returns with the same worried frown. He seems distant.
“Come on, let’s take Mark out for a walk,” I say, trying to bring Leo out of his dark thoughts.
Every evening after dinner, we take Mark out for a walk in his pram. The boy is a live wire, and this routine really helps settle him down ready for bed.
But I’m surprised as Leo declines, it’s something we have always done together.
“You go, I’ll see you when you get back.” He kisses me on the forehead, does the same with Mark, and then disappears through the house. I hear him close his office door and lock it behind him.
Leaving Leo to gather his thoughts, I get Mark’s shoes on and manoeuvre his pushchair out of the backdoor. We usually walk along the beachfront, letting Mark toddle the first half to tire him out, then put him in this pushchair for the way back. We’ve been for a walk every evening since Mark was born. Mark doesn’t seem phased, however, that his Papa isn’t coming, so we set off down the path that leads from our home to the beach.
The air is definitely cooler today. The sky is overcast, but it’s far from cold. We reach the beachfront in minutes. I push the chair along the path while Mark stomps and skips in the sand beside me. After a few metres, the pushchair gets stuck in a raised plank on the path. I pull and push, trying to release it, but it just gets wedged in tighter. Struggling to bend down with my huge baby bump, I grab hold of the wheel and give it a wiggle. But still no luck. Standing tall again so my lungs have room to expand, I realise Mark is no longer at my side.
Searching frantically around me, I spot him running straight towards the ocean. “Mark! Stop!” I shout, but he doesn’t listen. I’m running full throttle in panic, holding my bump as I go. When I’m not pregnant, I’m fit. I run a lot, and I’m fast, much to Leo’s annoyance, as I can beat him in a race by miles. But right now, my lungs are burning as I pant to breathe, and the pain in my stomach has me worrying about my unborn child.
The gap between me and Mark is closing but not fast enough. He is almost at the water. Mark can swim, and we often take him swimming in the sea, but today the sea is rougher than usual, and the waves crashing on the beach would soon pull him in. I then notice a woman running along the shore, close to Mark. I frantically shout and wave my arms to get her attention. Thankfully she notices, and I point over to Mark while still running desperately. The woman picks up her running pace and manages to lift him up just as he reaches the water. Thank goodness.
Seconds later I catch up to them. The lady passes me Mark, who kicks and whines in protest of being stopped from going for a paddle.
“Oh, thank you so much,” I say to the dark-haired woman who looks a similar age to me. “Thank goodness you got to him in time. I had visions of him being swept out to sea. Don’t ever run away from Mummy again, Mark. That could have been very dangerous. Look how rough the sea is. Now say sorry and thank you to the lady.”
Mark folds his arms and pushes out his bottom lip. “Sorry. Thank you.”
“You are very welcome,” she replies in a strong accent I know very well. She is a very beautiful lady. Her dark eyes andolive skin remind me of Mia. Wow, I haven’t thought of her in a long time.
“Oh, is that an Italian accent I hear?”
Her smile fades slightly before she says, “Mi dispiace di non parlare molto inglese.”I’m sorry I do not speak much English.
Before I can reply, she sets off running. Struggling with a now-crying three-year-old, I let her leave and put Mark down on the sand, keeping a secure grip on his wrist as I speak to him firmly about the importance of not running off and listening to Mummy. Not that he takes much notice.
When we get back to his pushchair, I strap him in tightly. Thankfully with another few pulls, the wheel becomes unstuck. Having had enough exercise for one night, I make my way back to the house. When we arrive home, I go looking for Leo. His office door is now open, but it’s empty. As I call out for him, I hear the sound of his footsteps coming down the stairs. When he approaches me in the hall, my breath is taken away. Leo’s appearance sends butterflies to my stomach. His natural beard has been trimmed and shaped, and his hair is no longer in its loose natural waves—it’s slick back with not a piece out of place. He is the image of when we first met. But the flood of sexual excitement is soon replaced with dread, as I realise what this means.
He is going back.
Chapter Three
Katie
“No. Absolutely not, Leo. You can’t be serious?”
“I have no choice. Marco needs me.” Leo doesn’t look at me when he speaks.
“You do have a choice.Weneed you, Leo. We left that world behind, and for good reason.”
