Unravelling

When the Principal at Lina’s school phoned Axel Ungaram to say that his wife hadn’t collected their daughter and that the school secretary had already spent an hour trying without success to contact her, his immediate reaction was one of annoyance. He tried to disguise any hint of this as he apologised for the inconvenience and said of course, he could be there himself to collect Lina within twenty minutes.

His next action was to call his wife, but both the house phone and Stacia’s mobile went through to voice message. Axel cursed, stepped out of his office to ask his secretary to rearrange his 4.30 meeting for the following day, then powered off his lap-top while trying to reach Stacia’s mobile again, with the same result. This time, he did leave her a message, saying he was on his way to collect Lina. With laptop under arm, he headed briskly for the elevator.

From the 12th floor of the JIT building to the underground car-park took less than a minute, but during the descent he had time to begin worrying about why Stacia might be late. She had never been so before, in all of the year and a half since their daughter had started school. She worked from home and they lived less than ten minutes’ drive from Orchard Infants. If she had been held up for some reason, though he couldn’t imagine one, surely she would have let the school know. Alternatively she would have got a message through to him.

He imagined a road-traffic accident. His wife was a careful driver, but she might have been caught up in someone else’s carelessness. As he climbed into his own car, a sleek grey Delta, he pictured Stacia unconscious in a tangle of metal, or in an ambulance racing to hospital, or worse still, lying at the roadside with a blanket covering her face.

Once out of the car-park, Axel tuned the radio into the local news station but all the talk was of the Rockets’ evening’s football match against local rivals Blue Star. The news headlines on the quarter-hour mentioned a bomb-scare in the capital and a new pay deal for striking metal-workers, but nothing about an accident in Morell. The traffic update stated all roads were free-flowing in the run-up to rush hour.

Cruising out of downtown and onto the arterial, he tried Stacia’s mobile number one more time on his car-phone. Again, there was no answer. His concern mounted as he drove, but he reasoned with himself that if something untoward had happened, someone would have picked up her ID and emergency contact number and would have been in touch with him by now.

It crossed his mind briefly that Stacia might have left him. He’d heard of it happening to people, but he dismissed the thought as bizarre. He and Stacia loved each other and besides, she would never abandon Lina. The priority for him was to stay calm, collect his daughter and get home. Then he would figure out what to do next – probably call the police if there was still no word, but surely it wouldn’t come to that. He’d probably find Stacia had got to the school herself by the time he arrived and there would be a mundane explanation for her delay.

When he pulled into the carpark of Orchard Infants School, there was only one other vehicle and it wasn’t Stacia’s. Most of the school rooms had their blinds closed, apart from the lobby and the Principal’s office, where inside he could see Mrs Darlington playing a game of cards with Lina. The Principal looked up as she heard his car door shut and brought the little girl to the door to meet him.

“Where’s mummy?” was the first thing Lina said.

“Mummy’s busy, sweetheart. You get to ride in Daddy’s car today. Come on, let’s go home.”

Apologising profusely to the Principal for the fact that she’d had to stay so late after school and thanking her for looking after Lina, Axel led his daughter off to the car. She chattered happily to him about her day as he buckled her into her seat, but he didn’t really hear what she was saying. Nor did he properly register Mrs Darlington’s asking him to let her know in the morning if there was anything the school could do to help. He said goodnight and Lina waved.

Axel swung the saloon out onto Estuary Road and headed for home with the rush-hour traffic, every so often checking on his daughter in the rear-view mirror. She was smiling beneath her shock of dandelion hair and didn’t seem overly concerned at this turn of events. She was enjoying the relative novelty of a ride home from school in the big car.

“Daddy, can we play music?” He smiled at her, reflected in the mirror, turned on the radio and punched the button for the city’s pop station.

Lina was soon babbling tunelessly along to the hot hit of the week and Axel allowed himself a few minutes of mindlessness as they negotiated the suburban thoroughfares of their homeward route, past the local park and mall, across the river (more of a broad stream really) that flowed around Meadowland, the district the Ungarams had lived in for the last four years, and on into maze of streets lined with boxes – expensive and well-appointed dwellings, but boxes nonetheless - that comprised their home turf.

Axel composed himself as he turned  into Beech Avenue (there was not a beech tree to be seen) and it was as well he did so, for the first surprise was the sight of Stacia’s Corona parked in its usual place on the left-hand side of their carport. Lina had noticed it too and exclaimed happily “Mummy’s home” as the Delta drew up alongside its smaller companion at the side of number 17. It was shortly after 4.30 and the light was just beginning to fade as father and daughter walked up to their front door.

Unravelling...

Axel turned his key in the lock and pushed the door open. He called out “Stace?” but there was no reply. He walked in, keeping in front of Lina. She was chirping out “Home Mummy” into the hallway as she threw her school bag down on the floor by the coat stand as usual.

Even in the failing light, he spotted Stacia’s body through the kitchen doorway before he’d taken half a dozen steps. At least, he saw her legs in her favourite green shoes protruding from behind the breakfast bar, and long streak of congealed blood. Fearing the worst but fighting down the instinct to rush in, he shielded the sight from his little girl, quickly pulled the kitchen door to and diverted Lina into the living-room, telling her to wait there despite her protestation that she was hungry and wanted her Mummy.

Torn between concern for his wife and his daughter, Axel quickly slipped back into the gloom of the kitchen just long enough to crouch down and put his fingers gently on the neck of the prone figure. He realised to his immense horror she was stone cold. There was no pulse.

Fighting down a sense of panic he decided he had to get Lina out of the house straight away, take her round to the next-door neighbour. He could see the lights were on at number 15 and he hoped that Sahra would be at home and able to look after his little girl for a few minutes, maybe give her tea, while he confronted whatever had happened in the kitchen. Closing that door behind him again he said brightly “I’ve just remembered sweetie that Mummy’s gone out and I think she said you’re going to have tea with Mrs Glasson.”

“But Mummy’s car is here,” she reasoned.

“I know, Lili, but her friends called to pick her up earlier,” he lied.

“All right Daddy. Can I take Boo with me? He’ll be hungry too.” Boo was her toy bear and lived on her bed but Axel didn’t want his daughter going upstairs or anywhere else in the house for that matter. He took a risk that the downstairs closet would present nothing untoward, turned on the light, took a brief look around and said “I’ll go up and get Boo while you wash your hands ready for tea.” He ushered Lina gently into the closet as she said “Okay Daddy” and ran up the stairs to her bedroom so as to be back with Boo before she’d finished drying her hands in that meticulous little way she had.

Armed with Boo, Lina walked quickly with her father to the neighbour’s house where he rang the doorbell and asked a surprised Sahra if she could possibly look after the girl for an hour, maybe give her tea? Sahra, detecting the quiet urgency in Axel’s manner, said she’d be delighted to and took Lina in without any further questions. “I’ll be back soon,” he called as the front door closed.

Making a hasty return to his own house, Axel tried the driver’s door of Stacia’s Corona on the way. It was locked. He also felt the bonnet, which was cold. The car hadn’t been driven in the last hour. Back inside number 17 he approached the kitchen with some trepidation.

Pushing open the door once more he felt round the corner for the switch and flooded the room with fluorescent light. There she lay, face down and lifeless. He couldn’t have let Lina discover her mother like this. He approached her form more hesitantly now, kneeling carefully to avoid the dark pools of blood. Stacia’s head was turned away from him and as he scooped up her blond tresses to uncover her face, the hair just came away in his hand.

He didn’t think he screamed, didn’t remember hearing a noise, but he did feel violently nauseous and retched drily a few times before letting go of the wig and staring incredulous at the body. She – it -  actually had pinned up red hair, was wearing his wife’s clothes and jewellery – yes, those were Stacia’s wedding ring and engagement ring, those were Stacia’s bangles, he’d bought them for her on holiday in Egypt – but this was not his wife’s body lying on his kitchen floor.

Axel began to freak. What the hell was going on? His mind was racing. He managed to turn the dead weight onto her back, pity and shock contending. This woman was wearing his wife’s blouse, his wife’s green skirt, the latter very bloodied, and his wife’s shoes. She may have been about the same build, same height and weight as Stacia but he had never seen whoever the hell this was in his life before. Shit! Shit! Shit!

After sitting there petrified for what seemed like an age, but was probably less than a minute, Axel pulled out his mobile phone and dialled the emergency services. In the space of less than an hour, his ordered world was unravelling. He stood there staring in horror, not knowing what else to do, what to think. Within a few minutes more, he heard the sirens racing towards Meadowland.

Thanks for reading...it may lengthen into a novel one day, S ;-)