Chapter 53
Violet
It happened a split second after I’d wriggled through.
What was left of the planks cleaved over with an ear-shattering crash, a portion of the roof above falling in and blocking the hole.
Paulina screamed and clamped her hands over her ears. Dust swarmed as I crawled across to join her, my eyes watering, mouth dry.
‘I’ve got you,’ I croaked in Spanish, pulling her into my arms, using my body to shield her from any other debris that might tumble in on top of us.
It was so hot, the temperature at a dangerous level, and the lack of fresh air was making my lungs contract.
‘Help!’ I shouted, though it came out as nothing more than a rasp. Coughing, I tried again, then again, more loudly. Paulina clung to me, whimpering, both of us slick with sweat.
I should have gone as soon as I’d found her; located a phone, called the police. I had done everything wrong. Again.
‘Help!’ I yelled, the word breaking apart with a sob that sent a fresh tremor through the girl in my arms. I must hold it together. It wouldn’t help either of us if I fell apart.
Taking a deep breath, I tried again, shouting on and on, in Spanish and then English, yelling for help, pleading for it, begging to be rescued. After a while, Paulina stopped crying and went limp, her eyes half closed as she continued to nestle against me.
Close to panic now, I scoured the roof above us, looking for weak spots, but there was nothing, only the dark outline of tiles, and the hole I’d made was completely blocked. Untangling myself from Paulina, I ventured across the small space on my hands and knees, peering through the mess of timber in the hope of spotting something I could reach that might help us.
And then I heard voices.
‘Henry!’ I shouted. ‘Is that you?’
‘Violet?’
I sat back on my haunches, tears of consolation coursing down my cheeks, and listened to the glorious sound of feet approaching.
‘Mum?’
Luke was with him. Kneeling up, I pressed my mouth to the collapsed beams.
‘Over here,’ I cried. ‘We’re over here.’
I couldn’t see either of them, but knowing they were there, close enough to touch, felt miraculous. It was Henry’s voice that came next.
‘Vee, what happened? How did you— Jesus.’
He waited while I explained what I’d done, how sorry I was, the state we were both in, and then he took charge.
‘Fetch some water,’ he told Luke. ‘And call Juan, get him and Tomas over here. I need to secure this roof, it’s not –’ he hesitated – ‘it’s not safe. You shouldn’t... stay outside. Don’t come back inside until I say, OK?’
‘But what if?’
‘Go.’
‘It’s OK,’ I said, in as calm a tone as I could muster. ‘We’ll be fine. Your father will look after us. You go and get the others.’
‘All right, but Mum?’
‘Yes?’
‘I . . . I’m— Just be OK, promise?’
‘You don’t need to say sorry,’ I said, unable to prevent the tears that followed. ‘I love you, very much.’
‘I love you, too.’
I waited until he was gone before I spoke again. ‘Thank you,’ I whispered, the wood rough against my lips. ‘For keeping him safe.’
‘Better late than never.’ Henry’s voice was thick. ‘Now sit tight, I’m going to get you out of there.’
I could hear him murmuring to himself as he examined the mess I’d made, then the scrape of wood as he attempted to move a few pieces aside.
‘I’m going to need to fetch some planks to act as support beams,’ he said. ‘But I’ll be back in a minute. They’re just one floor down. OK?’
‘OK,’ I replied shakily, hating the fact that he was going, even momentarily.
Clambering back towards Paulina, I found her slumped against the wall, gaze unfocused, and settled myself beside her again, arms protectively spread.
‘Soon, darling. Not long now.’
I’d lapsed into English, but she seemed to understand what I was saying.
‘Caracortada,’ she murmured, upon hearing Henry return, and I squeezed her more closely to me.
‘Sí,’ I said. ‘Caracortada es valiente; Superman.’
She lifted her chin sleepily. ‘Superhombre?’
I smiled. ‘Sí, Superhombre.’
We stayed where we were, crouched together, trying not to flinch as Henry hammered and banged.
‘Right,’ he said, sounding far more confident than I’d allowed myself to feel in what felt like hours. ‘That should hold. I’m going to break through now. Are you clear?’
‘We’re clear,’ I confirmed, bracing myself.
With a grunt, Henry brought down something hard on the tangle of wood. The space shuddered around us, but nothing fell. Another blow followed, then another. I closed my eyes against the swirling dust, and when I opened them again, there was a gap. Henry’s face was visible, and it took all my self-control not to rush forwards and kiss it.
‘Stay back,’ he warned, and I saw a flash of silver as he raised his tool of choice and swung it down into the hole. More of the wood splintered apart, the gap to freedom widening.
‘Stop!’ I called. ‘That’s big enough for Paulina. I can lift her through.’
Henry put down his axe just as Juan and Tomas ran into the room, both men puffed out and glistening with sweat. Hearing her father’s voice was enough to rouse Paulina, and I carried her carefully across the raised beams towards where his arms were outstretched and waiting.
‘She needs water,’ I instructed, and Tomas nodded, clutching his precious daughter to his chest as he fought back the tears. ‘I understand,’ he said, turning to Henry. ‘Gracias.’
Juan was ashen. ‘What can I do?’ he asked, taking in the scene, the chaos, the fact I was still trapped.
‘Go,’ I said gently. ‘Be with your family.’
‘Are you sure that you will be safe?’
‘Of course I will.’ I smiled at him through the gap. ‘I have Henry.’
Juan touched a brief hand to my husband’s shoulder, and then he was gone.
‘How did you know?’ I asked.
Henry looked at me, the way his dark hair was falling across his eyes reminded me of Luke.
‘That I was here – how did you know?’
‘Truth?’
‘Always.’
‘I didn’t. This road is the quickest route from the market to the villa, and when you didn’t answer your phone, I figured that was the most likely place you’d be. It was Luke who heard you shouting.’
My clever boy.
‘You should stand back,’ he went on, reaching for the axe.
‘I will in a minute. But first, can you come here?’
Henry deliberated for a moment, then stepped up to the hole, leaning over so his face was level with mine. ‘What’s up?’
I laughed at the question, at his nonchalance, at the Henry-ness of him.
‘I thought we could finish our conversation. The one we were having before all this happened.’
‘Before you took a saw to my support beams?’
‘How stupid was that decision, on a scale of one to ten?’
He frowned as if mulling it over. ‘I think I can safely conclude that it makes you a solid, green-eyed, ten out of ten.’
‘Hey.’ I smiled. ‘You stole my line.’
‘I bet you wouldn’t rate me the same now,’ he replied, glancing away. ‘What was it you said at the time? Something about symmetry?’
‘I’d only known you half an hour then. I was basing the entirety of my decision on looks. Now that I know you, I’d probably opt for something closer to one...’
‘Why, you—’
‘. . . thousand,’ I said sweetly.
Henry rolled his eyes. ‘Not sure if that makes sense mathematically.’
‘I always did hate the subject.’
‘You and Luke both.’
‘The point is, I rate you. More highly than anyone else. You are gorgeous, Henry – no,’ I scolded, as he started to argue. ‘I know you have scars, but so do I. We both have them from bringing up our son, from going into a war we never signed up for, and a battle we were destined to lose more times than we won. But we made it – we’re on the other side.’
He looked unsure. ‘You really believe that?’
‘What I think is that we’ve become so used to the fight that we didn’t realise it was over. You’ve stayed in your trench, and I hunkered down in mine, and neither of us dared move. I don’t know about you, Henry, but I wasn’t ready to look too closely at the waste ground our marriage had become; I was too beaten down by everything, by life, too shellshocked. I kept hoping things would go back to the way they’d been before, but I never did anything to make that happen.’
He was nodding, and I put my arm through the gap, my hand reaching for his.
Henry took it, his thumb hot against my palm. ‘There is no going back,’ he said, and I felt as if he’d kicked me. When I tried to pull back, however, Henry’s grip grew firmer. ‘That came out wrong,’ he said. ‘What I mean is that the way we were, in the beginning; we’ll never be those versions of ourselves again. And that’s OK, Vee,’ he hastened. ‘Hankering after the past makes no sense. We can’t go back; we can only go forwards – onwards.’ His features softened as he took in my expression. ‘What’s that face for? You’re pouting.’
I pulled in my bottom lip. ‘No, I’m not.’
‘Out with it, Torres.’
Torres. My married name. His name.
Optimism unfurled and bloomed inside my chest.
‘I don’t want to go forwards if it means doing so alone,’ I said, quietly enough that he took a step closer to hear me. ‘The only future I want is you – us. It’s all I’ve ever wanted, even when I was angry with you, even when I thought you didn’t love me any more. I would take you, have you, even without that. Do you hear what I’m saying? You don’t even have to love me, Henry, you only have to forgive me.’
‘I know.’ He paused. ‘But I’m afraid that simply won’t do.’
I took back my hand, and this time he let me, his own dropping to his side.
‘You can’t move past it,’ I said, not a question but a statement. ‘It’s OK. I understand.’ The disappointment was suffocating, an airless room in a sunken chamber.
Henry frowned at me, and then, with a smile so broad his eyes crinkled, he started to laugh.
I bristled.
‘I’m glad you find my utter desolation so amusing.’
He chuckled. ‘You are a Nelly – do you know that?’
‘Why, because I sawed through your support beams?’
‘Well, yes, definitely that, but also because you think our marriage can survive on the strength of your love alone. I mean, your independent streak is always something I’ve admired, right from the start, when you it took upon yourself to trespass.’
I threw him a sharp look and he grinned.
‘But even you can’t do it all by yourself. Nobody can – not you, or me, or Luke. We all need each other – don’t you see that? We’re not a perfect family by any means, but we’re the only family I fit into, the only one I want to be a part of.’
My head was beginning to throb. ‘I don’t understand what you’re saying. It’s all riddles. Of course you’re a part of this family. You always will be, no matter what decision you make about us. You’ll always be Luke’s dad, and my...’ I stalled as I searched for the appropriate word, a term that could sum up the vitalness of him, the absolute necessity of his presence in my life, no matter how shallow the dregs of affection he was willing to give. ‘Everything,’ I said at last, not caring about my tears, nor the desperation that was so palpable it almost brought me to my knees. ‘You’re everything to me.’
‘Oh, Vee,’ he said through a sigh, mumbling something else I didn’t quite catch.
‘What did you say?’ I began, moving forwards across the beams only to trip, my foot slipping forwards into the darkness. I heard Henry’s shout of alarm as the floor beneath me seemed to split in two, and then I was falling, flailing, grasping at air. I tried to scream, but there was nothing. Pain flared like a struck match, the intensity ripping the air from my lungs. The light dimmed, flickered, and went out.