in jail, but I have to find a pretext so he’s inside for as little time as possible."
"A plea bargain would be enough to achieve that," commented the other. "Am I wrong? I've seen it happen in some movies."
Loreley smiled. "He doesn't want to know about it. Peter Wallace still can't believe that his Lindsay is dead. He claims that he only slapped her and that when he left she was still alive and well. But the evidence contradicts him. I’ve only spoken to him once, to try to find out more, but it was like banging against a wall of silence and reticence."
"It won’t be easy for you to know the truth if he is not willing to cooperate."
"Do you mind if we change the subject? I'd like to avoid thinking about work tonight."
"I don't mind at all."
Esther looked up at the sliver of sky that could be seen above the tall buildings in front of them.
There were a few moments of silence, as Loreley looked at her sister-in-law's beautiful profile, her long brown hair hanging loose on her shoulders, her gaze lost up there, thinking about who knows what. Not knowing what else to say, Lorely jumped at the first topic that came to mind. "Do you miss your city?" she asked her.
Esther sighed. "No... that is, I can't say. Sometimes I have images, scenes that make me remember it, but I don't feel nostalgia, not enough to want to go back there at all costs. On the other hand, I miss my brother so much, even though I remember so little about him." She paused briefly, rolling a long strand of hair around her index finger. "I would love to see him again, but I don't know where he is, or what happened to him."
"There's must be a clue somewhere."
"Just the note he left for Hans before he disappeared, saying that he wanted to entrust me to him."
Jack had written a note for Hans? she asked herself puzzled.
Hans had never mentioned it to her. She had never been able to understand what had driven Jack to leave so quickly, and it had been over a year now since it had happened.
"Let's do something fun, and go and annoy our men there in the living room," she suggested to Esther.
***
Coming out of the warmth of the office, the cold air of late October shook her from the sensation of dullness that she had been experiencing for several hours. She had got up that morning with a nausea that had forced her to skip lunch. Most likely she was getting something, maybe it was that malaise that precedes the actual flu.
She looked up. Threatening clouds hid the evening sky and the bare trees seemed gaunt extensions of the ground pointing upwards. The strong wind forced her to close her jacket and knot her silk scarf more tightly around her neck. She didn't like winter, apart from Christmas and some time to enjoy ice skating.
A taxi was dropping off a customer a little further along, so she hurried to it and had it take her home. The smell of food hit her as she opened the door. She took off her coat and put it on the sofa with her bag, then looked into the kitchen. Mira, in her usual blue dress and a large white apron, was setting the table.
"Are you hungry?" the maid asked, and turned to look at her, the small blue eyes smiling.
"Not much really. Is Johnny home?"
"He’s closed in the study. Dinner's almost ready."
"I’ll go and tell him."
It took quite a while to get him away from the drawing board, but then Johnny devoured a large grilled steak and as many vegetables as she would eat in two meals.
Loreley pushed her plate aside with a grimace of disappointment: she didn’t understand why seeing Johnny eating a lot that evening bothered her so much.
Apologizing, she headed to the bathroom to take a shower. The warmth of the water relaxed her, leaving no room for thoughts, and she put up no opposition. Her thoughts wandered far into the past, to her university days, to David, to the time she met Johnny and her future with him. A long-term future... Becoming a real family.
But what the hell was she thinking?!
Johnny had never told her he wanted to make a family with her. He had already had a wife and had run away after a few years. During the marriage he had also had a daughter, about whom he spoke very little, unlike many fathers who...
She interrupted that sequence of thoughts with a shiver, opened her mouth and let the water run into her throat. Spluttering she turned off the faucet. Many seconds passed before she could breathe properly again.
Leaning against the tiled wall, she moved her wet hair off her face. She should start the pill again today and she hadn’t had anything. How come?
She had read somewhere that with some types of contraceptives the flow could decrease until it disappeared altogether. Yes, that must be it.
And what if something wasn’t right? she asked herself, wringing the water out of her hair, and feeling edgy.
That question worried her so much that she dried herself quickly and got dressed again. She couldn’t bear to have that uncertainty hanging over her until the next day, or she wouldn’t sleep that night.
When she was ready, she told Johnny that she had forgotten to buy her usual painkillers and disappeared out the door.
Within minutes she was at the pharmacy, just across the street. She went in and asked for a pregnancy test. It was absurd to be so worried, but she knew there could be a margin for error.
Johnny was lying on the couch when she returned, intent on watching a football game, so she took the opportunity to undress and lock herself in the bathroom without being disturbed. No one could get Johnny away from there, not even the prospect of hours of unbridled sex.
She followed the instructions on the packaging and waited for the result. The test should be done in the morning, and by doing it in the evening the most she risked was getting a negative outcome, never a false positive. In that case, she would repeat the test the next morning.
Sitting on the stool, she tried to imagine how Johnny would react if the result turned out to be positive. They had never talked about marriage, let alone having children. It would be a real blow to both of them.
She looked at the clock, then at the test indicator...
5
The test was positive. Just as she feared.
How the hell did that happen? Where had she gone wrong? she wondered as she wrapped the stick in a tissue to throw it in the bin.
After a few minutes she left the bathroom, feeling as if she had been given a strong dose of sedatives. But she didn't join Johnny in the living room. She didn't want him to notice the state she was in, and needed to think about things before talking to him.
She went to the bedroom and finished undressing, took her pyjamas from under the pillow and slipped them on like an automaton. Then she noticed that she had put the pants on back to front, but couldn’t be bothered to fix them.
Hearing footsteps, she turned, her back to the door. "Are you going to bed already?" asked Johnny.
"I'm very tired. Do you mind?" She pretended to be looking for something in the drawer of the bedside table so he wouldn't notice she was upset.
"No, not at all... I’ll join you as soon as the game ends, it’s half-time now." He walked towards her.
A mask of impassibility, the same one she wore in court, dropped over her face.
"All right." She closed the drawer again after taking out a packet of tissues she didn't need.
John hugged her from behind, his hands around her waist. "Go to bed,” he told her. I’ll turn off all the lights and close the shutters."
She turned her head to look at him sideways.
"Why are you staring at me like that?" he asked her.
"You