To the Back of Beyond(15)
At the end of the valley, the stream flowed into a little river with clear, greenish water. A forest road went alongside the river. Thomas identified north from the shadows of the trees and walked upstream. By and by the gorge narrowed, the sheer cliffs of conglomerate to either side, with their bulbous forms, looked like body parts of enormous fossil creatures. The rocks were full of seams and cracks, a moss-covered sign warned of the danger of rockfalls.
Just before the valley ended in a narrow defile, the road led steeply uphill. Thomas felt shattered. Ever since he had set out, he had eaten little and only napped briefly for hours at a time. His legs were heavy, cold sweat covered his face, and each step was a strain. He had to find a place to stop and rest, but the slope here was too broken. On the top, the woods stopped and a view opened onto a pleasant landscape, green hills, a few farms and villages, and, nearer now, the lake with two small islands in it, and the opposite bank, gently climbing.
From here on, he was going downhill, and Thomas forgot his tiredness, but he kept stumbling as he walked, and, in spite of himself, he was looking for somewhere to rest. The path followed a channel of swiftly moving water, hopping from side to side via numerous little footbridges. For a while Thomas was accompanied by a wagtail that flew beside him step by step, flicking its tail, so close to the surface of the water that it seemed sometimes to brush it. The stream disappeared into a narrow clump of trees; various benches and campfire sites indicated the probable presence of the bank, but none of them was discreet enough for Thomas. Finally he headed into the bushes at an almost level place. With his feet he scraped together some dried leaves, then spread his jacket out over them and lay down.
Normally Astrid found getting up easy, but on this day, after switching off the alarm clock, she went back to sleep and only awoke when Konrad touched her gently on the shoulder and whispered, Mama, are you awake? She put off her shower until later, and groggily got breakfast for herself and the children. Once Konrad and Ella were out of the house, she went back to bed, but sleep wouldn’t come, and she tossed and turned restlessly, without managing a clear thought. At nine the telephone rang. Sorry, did I wake you? asked Thomas’s secretary. How is your husband feeling? Do you know when he’ll be ready to come back to work? I’m taking him to the doctor this morning, said Astrid, playing for time. I’ll call you later on, when I know more.
When she went into the village to do her shopping, and passed the police station, she crossed to the other side and avoided looking at it. Back at home, she rang the police, and asked to speak to Herr Ruf. The woman at the other end asked what it was about. A personal matter, said Astrid. Shortly afterward he was on the line. Astrid asked if he had any news. The moment we hear anything we’ll call you, he said. Astrid said nothing. How are you doing? You all right? he asked. No, she said, and laughed hollowly. He apologized. I’m out on patrol all day, but if you like I can look in on you later. Would you, said Astrid. Maybe — But the sentence broke off, and she didn’t say any more. See you later then, said the policeman.
At ten, Astrid called the office and said Thomas had shingles. Oh, golly, poor man, said the secretary. My mother had shingles once. Where did he get it from? The doctor says it might have been getting too much sun while on holiday, said Astrid. She had come across the condition online and made notes on it. Do you know how long he’ll be off work? Thomas would definitely have to spend the next two weeks at home, said Astrid, and it might be more than a month. It’s highly infectious, she added. Well, give him all the best from everyone here, and I hope he’s better soon, said the secretary. You can bring in the doctor’s note at your convenience. Astrid promised she would, and hung up.
On the coffee table were a few books Thomas had been reading lately, plus a gardening magazine and a brochure for ecologically approved insecticides. Astrid dumped the catalogue and magazine in the recycling, and put the books back on the shelf. She picked up Thomas’s sweater off the sofa and dropped it in the washing in the bathroom, and likewise his pajamas and a pair of socks she found beside the bed. She took his toiletries off the vanity shelf and packed them away in the bathroom cupboard. She went through the house, picking up things he had left lying around, a half-eaten bag of dried apricots (a present from a client), a screwdriver, a tube of wood glue, a shopping list, a freebie ballpoint. She ate the apricots and tidied everything else away. In the bedroom was a desk that Thomas sometimes used. That too she tidied, stuffing loose sheets of paper into the drawers. In a plastic file folder she found restaurant bills from their vacation, the rental agreement for the holiday house, and a few cash withdrawal slips. Finally she wiped the work surface with a damp cloth, as though to remove every last trace of Thomas’s presence.
Shortly before midday, the doorbell rang. It was Ruf. As she led the way into the living room, she glanced through the curtains and saw the patrol car parked beside the garden gate. I’ve got my colleague waiting for me outside, said Ruf. For a while they sat facing each other in silence. Finally, Astrid asked him if he was married. My wife had her first baby in April, he said. Our first baby. A little girl. You think it could never happen to you, don’t you? said Astrid. He merely shook his head silently, she couldn’t tell whether he was confirming or denying her allegation. Then she admitted to him that she had sometimes left Ella, her older child, all alone when she was very little. I’ve never told anyone that, not even my husband. I think everyone has thoughts like that, said Ruf. But not everyone acts on them, said Astrid. Thank God. What would you do if you were in my situation? she asked. As I say, most people return within a few days. You should get in touch with everyone he knows, even friends from way back. If he uses his bank or credit cards, you’ll see confirmation of it in your records. Other than that, we’re relying on Inspector Chance. She could always engage a private detective, but they came dear and wouldn’t be able to do much more than the police. It’s not so easy to find someone who’s set on not being found. You must think I’m a bad wife, said Astrid, why else would he have left me. Tears ran down her face. Ruf hesitated, then took her hand in his, like a small animal he sought to protect or keep from fleeing. No, he said, no, and then with quite unprofessional agitation in his voice, you just don’t do something like that. He let go of her hand and stood up. I need to go, my partner’s waiting for me outside. Whenever you come here I have to cry, said Astrid.