It was the first time she’d been here since Helen had been reported missing. By rights she should have been at home resting but she hadn’t taken the sleeping pills the psychiatrist had prescribed for her. She didn’t want to sleep in case Helen might somehow turn up. Unable to keep still, Katrina had slipped out of the house and driven the 40 kilometres across town to get to her daughter’s place.
She knew Rudi wouldn’t be back for a while. He was at the football with his mates. Trying to live as normally as possible. She couldn’t blame him. He had been frantic since the disappearance and the companionship would do him good.
Katrina let herself in and stepped across the marble landing. How her steps echoed. It was something she hadn’t really noticed before. Usually Helen would greet her and give her a hug and get her to sit down at the table in their large kitchen and put the kettle on and tell her about her day at the legal firm and about the next exotic destination she and Rudi were going to. But now the house echoed like a cavern.
Katrina placed her car keys on the small table next to a vase of wilting roses. She bent down and sniffed their dissipating fragrance then picked up the framed wedding photograph that was there.
Helen looked stunning. She had that knowing smile of a woman deeply in love. Rudi had his arm across her shoulders, a larrikin’s grin playing on his lips. The memories brought fresh tears to Katrina’s eyes. She thought she might wilt from having shed so many these last few weeks.
She ambled through the silent rooms, imagining hearing her daughter’s voice, remembering how much she longed to come here and one day help look after the grandchild. The miscarriage put paid to that but Helen was still young enough. There was plenty of time if…no, when she came home.
In the sunroom Katrina expected to see Lou, Helen’s Persian cat. Lou would normally lie on the mat on winter afternoons like these, arching his belly toward the warming rays of the sun. But Lou wasn’t here. He wasn’t in any of the rooms that Katrina had passed through either. Nor was there any cat hair or a single one of Lou’s little soft toys lying about.
Katrina backtracked to the kitchen. There were no food or water bowls. In the laundry there were no sign of the litter trays. Most conspicuously, to her sensitive nose, the cat-smell seemed to have faded from the house. Although she kept trying to block it out, she allowed herself to think of her daughter’s predicament for a moment: if someone had abducted her, why would they take the cat?
A shiver ran through her. As Katrina tried to gather her thoughts she felt the silence of the house keenly. There was no sound but her galloping heart.
A mobile phone rang.
Katrina jumped.
She was confused. Rudi always had his phone on him. It can’t be Helen’s phone, the police would have been able to trace it — and it hadn’t been turned on since the disappearance. It rang again. Was this a second phone?
She followed its sound until it rang out. It came from Rudi’s study. A minute later it rang again, There, at the back of the bookcase. She saw “No caller ID” on the display. She knew this could be important. If it was anything to do with Helen it was better than nothing.
Still she hesitated.
No, I must pick up.
With a trembling hand Katrina grabbed the phone and pressed the answer button. But her teeth were clenched so hard she could not speak.
An unfamiliar woman’s voice said, ‘Rudi, are you there? Is it safe to talk?’
Silence.
‘Rudi?…’
Katrina stared at the phone, adrenaline coursing through her.
There was a crackling noise as the caller hung up.
Katrina dropped the phone to the floor.
A sensation passed across Katrina’s neck and shoulders as if Lou had brushed past her. Her thoughts turned to her son-in-law.
Rudi, who had gone to the football with his mates to help keep his mind off Helen. Rudi, the only one of the family coherent enough to speak at the Police Commissioner’s press conference. He spoke so well, people commented on his courage and clear-headedness at such a traumatic time. The same man who winked at her and said, ‘we’ll have fun making another,’ the day Helen had told them of the miscarriage.
Katrina backed away slowly from the phone as if it were afire. She rushed back to the lobby and glanced again at the photo. All she could see was a leer, not a larrikin’s grin. She picked up her car keys from the small table and bumped the vase sending three wilted red rose petals floating to the white marble floor. Turning towards the front door she heard the sound of tyres on gravel.
A car was coming up the driveway.
Photo by Gabriela Gutierrez on Unsplash
