The Blame (3 page)

After leaving the motorway, David drove along the narrow country lane that led to the
quinta
. The weather seemed to have cleared up nicely. Although there was still some cloud, the moon and stars were making a valiant attempt to shine some light on the blanket of darkness that shrouded the countryside. His high beams cut a swath of light that bobbed up and down as he drove through rain-filled potholes.

“
Merda dos buracos,
” he grumbled, thinking what this was doing to his suspension and steering. He wondered if Laura had received any feedback from the council. She’d been on at them to get the road resurfaced, or at the very least, to get the holes filled in.  It wasn’t that she wasn’t
right
about the causes she took on, of course she was. He wasn’t denying that saving the rainforests and oceans was important, or that animal testing was cruel. It was just that it took too much effort to do battle with the powers that be, to try and change the status-quo. Laura was forever taking part in campaigns to boycott or exert pressure on this or that company. He’d sooner turn a blind eye than pop a blood vessel in a vain attempt to save the world. He often compared her to Don Quixote which really pissed her off. She’d retaliate with a literary reference of her own in the form of a quote by Edmund Burke:

“Nobody made a greater mistake than he who did nothing because he could do only a little.”

He resolved to make an effort this weekend not to get riled up by the usual stuff. He’d bite his tongue, keep things light.

As he stopped outside the farm gate and pointed the remote control at it, three grizzly bear-like creatures bounded down the driveway. Three small raggedy hairballs followed in hot pursuit, anxious not to be left out of the welcoming committee.

Bite no. 1.

She’d let the damn dogs out again. How was the lawn supposed to mature when you had 180 kg of dog peeing, pooping and tracking all over it? He made his way up to the garage, the six dogs running excitedly alongside the car. The garage door was already open and he drove right in. Before he could get out of the car, Mia, the pack leader, rose up on her hind legs and licked the side window in greeting, the long black nails on her huge front paws clicking against the glass.  

Bite no. 2. Bloody dog was going to scratch the paintwork on his door.

At this rate, I’ll be left with nothing but a bloody stump in my mouth
, he fumed.

Vanessa came running in and the dogs immediately turned to her, all of them vying for her attention. “
Olá, pai
.”

“
Olá, querida
.” David picked her up and kissed her.

“Pooh, your sweater smells of wet dog. Down, Mia! Sit, Lola! I don’t want the same to happen to my suit.”

“I helped mom feed the dogs and then we ... aagh! Bruna! Stop wagging your tail in my face!”

“Ah, here comes your mother. Hey, Laura. How did the builders get on today? Any progress?” He slipped an arm around her waist and kissed her lightly on the lips.

“Yes, apparently.
Senhor
Manuel says that all the interior work is now completely done, believe it or not. But I haven’t gone inside yet because the varnish wasn’t quite dry.”

“Great! That gives us something to look forward to tomorrow morning. And the rain seems to have finally stopped so we can get on with the gardening.”

“Good. Sounds like a plan. Now let’s go in. Dinner is almost ready but Vanessa and I need a quick shower to get rid of this doggy smell. Come on, princess, let’s change into our PJs.”

“Don´t take too long, girls. I’m starving. What’s for dinner?”

“Baked salmon.”

“Oh, no!” groaned Vanessa. “I hate fish.”

“Salmon is brain food. All that Omega 3. If you don’t have any, you’ll land up a lame brain like your father!” Laura sprinted across the courtyard and headed for the bathroom as the other two howled in pursuit.

***

David looked up from his newspaper as Laura entered the sitting room. “Is she asleep already?”

“Out like a light.”

“Great. Come and sit down by the fire, I got you a glass of Muscatel wine,” said David, folding his newspaper and throwing it onto the floor.

“Lovely, thank you. Let me just turn the lights down.” She flopped down onto the bottle green sofa and picked up her glass from the end table. “What are you drinking?” she asked, looking at the snifter in his hand. Brandy?”

“Actually, it’s
aguardente.
This old
Adega Velha
firewater is even smoother than brandy.”

“They both taste awful to me. I’ll stick to Muscatel wines, thank you very much.”

“You don’t know what you’re missing.” David propped his feet up on the distressed cherry wood coffee table and smiled at his wife. “I must say that’s it’s nice to have an evening to ourselves. It’s a good job Vanessa went to bed early.”

“Well, you know how tired she is on Friday evenings after a week at school, poor lamb. Sometimes I think these private schools work the kids too hard. They’re under so much pressure to produce the results competitive parents demand that they keep pushing the kids, and I wonder if they don’t all lose sight of what’s really important: a well-balanced childhood.  I mean if you think about it, it’s not that different from child labour,” she said indignantly. “They spend the whole day at school, and then they still have homework to do when they get home. When do they get to play and just be kids? It gets dark at 5.30 in winter, for Chrissake!”

“I know what you mean,” agreed David. “Obviously, everyone wants their child to have a good education, but it’s not as though the kids have to be rocket scientists by the time they’re twelve.”

“Thank heavens Vanessa is so bright. She doesn’t struggle with her schoolwork like some of her friends do, so at least she manages to get her homework done quite quickly. Her reading and writing are coming along really well”.

“Yeah, poor kids. The pressure starts really early; today’s society demands bigger, and better and faster...”

“Yeah, it was easier when we were kids. God, how time flies, I can’t believe Vanessa has already started school. I remember
my
first day in Grade 1 and it doesn’t seem like that long ago!”

“You wish! Anyway, you were lucky, at least you enjoyed school. For me it was a nightmare. Our teachers were bad-tempered and strict and we didn’t have field trips or movies or any of the fun stuff they have today.”

“This is making me feel very nostalgic. I know what, turn off the TV and let’s listen to M80. I feel like listening to some golden oldies. Something that is familiar and that I know the words to. I guess that means going back twenty years or so!”

“Man, we’re getting old,” David groaned as he pressed the remote control and Bryan Adams’s unmistakable raspy voice sang the last few bars of
Everything I do
,
which ran seamlessly into Seal’s
Kiss from a Rose.

“Ah. This is the life. Good wine, great music, terrific memories....,”said David contentedly as Laura kicked off her slippers and put her bare feet on his lap. He rubbed them absent-mindedly as they sipped their drinks and listened to romantic golden oldies. Mesmerized by the flames dancing in the fireplace, David jumped when Laura suddenly burst into song, helping Whitney Houston hit the high notes in
I will always love you.

“Wow, that’s the best impression of a tortured parrot that I’ve ever heard,” he sniggered. “Now shut up before you wake Vanessa up. She already has enough nightmares as it is.”

Laura leant forwards and took a few swipes at him which he dodged. “Tut, tut. I see your bad temper matches your voice,” said David. 

Laura aimed a punch at his chin but her fist froze in mid-air as Springsteen’s haunting harmonica filled the room. “Our song... it always gives me goose bumps. Do you remember?”

“How could I forget the first night we ever spent together? That little cottage we rented on the coast in the middle of winter, not a soul in sight.”

“All I remember is huddling under the blankets in our own little world. And when we did come down to earth,
The River
was playing. I remember thinking how sad the lyrics were, and how such a thing would never happen to us. But now, I wonder if the lyrics weren’t prophetic ... .”

Bruce’s ragged voice intoned:

Now all them things that seemed so important
Well, mister, they vanished right into the air
Now I just act like I don't remember
Mary acts like she don't care

David stood up and gently pulled Laura to her feet. He held out his arms and she went into his embrace, laying her head on his shoulder as they moved slowly together, listening to Bruce croon on. When the song was over, he pulled back and lifted her chin with his hand. He could see the tears welling in her eyes.

“Shh,” he said softly, stroking her hair. “It’s gonna be okay. Nothing’s changed.”

He kissed her softly, brushing the tears away with his thumbs. They gazed at each other for a few moments, not saying anything.

Then Laura grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled his head down to hers, hard. As if overtaken by a desperate need to debunk Bruce’s thoughts on marriage, they clawed roughly at each other’s clothes. Laura shrugged off her dressing gown and pulled David’s sweater over his head, throwing it down next to her gown. Then she lay down on the traditional Arraiolos rug in front of the fireplace, her nightgown riding up her thighs. And without further ado, David buried his face between her legs and quickly brought her to orgasm.

Twice.

“Looks like mommy slept well last night,” David waggled his eyebrows suggestively as Laura walked into the kitchen.

She grinned back at him. “What are you two doing up so early? It’s Saturday.”

“It isn’t early, it’s already daytime,” answered Vanessa, who sadly never woke up later than eight o’clock.  “Daddy and I have almost finished having breakfast,” she said, pointing to her bowl of whole wheat cornflakes.

“Yes, I can see that. Let me just fix myself some coffee and toast.” Laura bent down to kiss her daughter’s head, and popped some bread in the toaster. “Would you like some more toast, David?”

“No, thanks. I’m done, and so is Vanessa. We’re going to get dressed while you have your breakfast. The dogs are demanding to be fed. If we don’t hurry up, they’re going to scratch a hole through the kitchen door.”

“Don’t be long. I want to go and see the house.”

They were back just as she was finishing breakfast, and when she saw them, she had to smile.

“You two look as though you are going to participate in a father and daughter game show on TV,” she said, pointing to their almost identical attire.

Both were wearing jeans, Springbok rugby jerseys and grey Merrell hiking boots, which only served to highlight the likeness between father and daughter.

“We
are
a team, aren’t we,
querida
?” asked David, giving her a high-five. “Laura, leave the dishes, I’ll clear up and feed the dogs while you get dressed. Let’s make the most of the weather today; you never know when it’s going to start raining again.”

David stacked the dishes in the dishwasher and wiped down the pine kitchen table. By this time, the scratching on the kitchen door was getting frantic. Sharp noses had detected the smell of milk and toast. David filled six bowls with kibble and piled them precariously high while he opened the door. He was immediately greeted by shrill barking from two white mops that went by the names of Clarisse and Lilly.  Practically still puppies, they’d been thrown over the fence by someone wanting to dispose of an unwanted litter. Tara was the latest addition.  She’d turned up one day looking hungry and forlorn, and of course Laura hadn’t been able to say no to her beseeching eyes. The other three were Estrela Mountain dogs, a Portuguese breed used by shepherds to fight off the wolves that threatened their flocks.

“Sit!” David ordered, holding out the wobbling stack of bowls. All six sat in a line, reminding him of the von Trapp children. Julie Andrews would have been proud. The stainless steel bowls made loud clanking sounds on the cobblestone courtyard as the dogs licked out every last bit of kibble. Finishing first, the three Estrelas stood watch over the little ones. They would never steal from their bowls, but anything that fell onto the ground was fair game and would be instantly devoured.

“Laura! Vanessa! Come on. Hurry up,” David shouted as he cleared away the bowls.

“Here we are. Have you got the key?” asked Laura, petting the heads that jostled for her hand.

“Yes, but let’s look round the outside first.”

They crossed the courtyard and walked round the villa, checking that all the exterior finishing touches had indeed been put on. The white bush-hammered marble that framed all the doors and windows was nicely offset by the dusty pink façade. The sitting room French windows opened up onto a terracotta terrace where they planned to have sundowners in summer. Beyond that lay the swimming pool, positioned for protection from the wind and for maximum exposure to the sun.  “
Anda, pai
,” Vanessa called to her father impatiently. “I want to go inside.”

As David opened the front door, the pungent smell of paint and varnish hit him.

“Yes! Finally!” Laura shouted as she pushed past David into the entrance hall, her voice sounding hollow in the empty house. “I thought this day would never come.”

They walked from room to room, pleased with the final result. They had selected quality traditional materials for the four en-suite bathrooms and large kitchen. Loads of character but all the mod cons they didn’t want to do without.

“Fireplaces may be very cosy, but nothing beats central heating; you can preset it, there’s no mess, no hassle...” said Laura, who hated having to clean out the ashes.

“Oh, I don’t know about that. Think I could probably come up with a use or two for a fireplace.” David winked at her.

Vanessa interrupted their innuendo.

“Let’s go and see my room, mom.
Anda, pai
.” she called her dad, switching effortlessly from one language to the other.

Her feet beat out a staccato on the beautifully restored pine floorboards as she raced upstairs. “Wow, mom! It’s beautiful.  I love the wallpaper. Is it the one I helped you pick out at Auntie Sara’s store?”

“Yes, it is. It looks even nicer now, doesn’t it? And what about your bathroom? What do you think of the pink marble?”

“It’s lovely. Can we move in today?”

“I’m afraid not,” laughed Laura. “We have to wait for the Town Council to issue a Habitation Licence, but first we need to get a whole lot of Certificates of Conformity from ....”

“What? What does that mean? Vanessa interrupted. “How long is that going to take?”

“Quite some time, I’m afraid. We’re just going to have to be patient.”

“Aw, no. Well, in that case I’m going to play on the iPad,” she said, quickly losing interest in the house.

“And I’m going to get the Poop Scoop,” said Laura, heading back down the stairs.

“Never mind the Poop Scoop. Get the Bobcat. Your dogs have been busy,” David said dryly. “You’d think that with 20 000 square meters they wouldn’t have to shit on the lawn.” Irritation creased his brow.

***

David drove the Bobcat while Laura and Vanessa followed on the quad bike. The dogs ran on ahead. He couldn’t help admiring the gracefulness and agility with which the Estrelas cleared the obstacles in their path; they barely seemed to touch the ground. The sun shone timidly through the holly oak and stone pine trees as they made their way down to the far side of the
quinta.
The smell of wet earth drifted up towards him, not even a rooftop in sight, just the flutter of birds being rousted from the undergrowth by their approach. He smiled to himself.

Not bad, not bad at all
.

They reached their destination, a pond formed from a natural depression in the earth, and turned off their respective engines.

“
Olha, pai.
Look how full the pond is.”

“
Sim.
No wonder really, with all this rain. Laura, don’t you think that it’s big enough? I mean, it already holds water most of the year.”

“I just want to widen it a bit more on this side, the shoreline is too steep. I want it to slope a little more and then we can bring those rocks from over there and place them strategically round that side. What do you think? ”

“That sounds ok. I just hope that I can move those boulders without wrecking the Bobcat. They look really heavy.”

“Daddy, why are you and mommy doing all this work yourselves? Why don’t you get a gardener to do it for you?”

“Well, you remember what I explained to you about this recession? You know that we are all going through difficult times, don’t you? So we have to save money wherever we can. Anyhow, it’s fun, isn’t it?”

“Yes, I suppose so. But I’ve got nothing to do.”

“Why don’t you go and gather some pine cones for the fireplace?”

“OK. What about pine nuts?”

“The new cones won’t crack open till the summer so we’re going to have to wait.”

“Here. Take this plastic bag but don’t disappear. I want to be able to keep an eye on you,” Laura warned Vanessa.

“All right, mom. See you later. Come on, girls,” she called, patting her thigh.

“OK, David, bring the loader round here. Shoo, girls. Get back. David! Watch out, you’re going to squash the dogs with the bucket.”

“I’d be so lucky,” he shouted back at her with a grin on his face.

“Bastard!” she yelled back.

David soon had the shoreline the way Laura wanted it.

Thank God for heavy duty machinery
, he thought.
Otherwise she’d have me doing all this digging with a shovel
.

There was no stopping Laura when she got an idea into her head. Regardless of what it entailed, she would be determined to give it a go, there and then. Whether it was repairing a dripping tap or building a nest box, she would claim they could do it, that it would take forever to get someone in. While he knew this was probably true, he’d rather wait than mess around with something he didn’t really know how to do. She was always accusing him of seeing insurmountable obstacles where she saw a reasonable challenge. As it turned out, she was usually right. And she never failed to tell him so.

“That’s great. Now try and bring those two larger boulders down here. I want to use them as the base for the rocky outcrop. We can pile the smaller rocks on top.”

“Those two are way too heavy. I won’t be able to budge them.  Just use the smaller ones.”

“It won’t look as natural. Besides, how do you know you can’t move them unless you try?”

There she goes again
, thought David as he sighed inwardly. “Fine. What could possibly go wrong, anyway? Well, besides tipping the loader and getting crushed, that is. But hey, I don’t want to whine.” 

“Oh, come on. Of course you can do it. Just take it nice and slow.”

David pressed the left pedal down with his heel while he urged the loader forwards. As the bucket slipped under the boulder, he pushed the right pedal with his heel to tilt the bucket backwards and drove down to the shoreline. Then he pressed the right button with his toe to tip the boulder out onto the ground.

“There we go. See, you’re quite a pro.”

“
Boa, pai
!” Vanessa cheered, clapping her hands. “Mom, can we eat now? I’m getting hungry.”

“Ok. I’ll get the backpack while your dad finishes up over here. Why don’t you come and help me?”

“Ok, I’ll get the blanket. Can we eat under this tree?”

“Sure. Let’s spread the blanket here.”

“What did you bring for our picnic, mommy?”

“Sandwiches, chicken pie, chips, fruit and biscuits. And your favourite fruit juice. Here, clean your hands on these wet wipes before you touch the food.”

The rustling sound of plastic bags did not go unnoticed. Nor did the tantalising smell of chicken pie.  Six uninvited guests materialized as if by magic. A stern “Sht” and an upright index finger kept them at bay. Calm and assertive.  Thank you Cesar Millan! Now if only she could get them to stop destroying the garden.

Just as Laura finished laying out the food, David shut down the skid-steer loader, lifted up the lock bar and jumped out. “OK, ladies, here I am. I’m starving. All this manual labour has made me work up an appetite.”

“What do you mean ´manual labour´? Pushing a couple of levers and buttons? Boy, you must be exhausted!” teased Laura.

“Hey, knowing exactly what each button and  lever does requires a huge mental effort.”

“Shame. Here, have some nourishment to get your energy back.”

“This pie looks good. Who made it?”

“I did,” she replied indignantly. “Why is it that you and Vanessa always ask who cooked the food when you like it?” she demanded.

“Shall we tell her?” David asked Vanessa as they huddled together giggling. 

“Very funny,” she retorted. “Talking about food, have you noticed the stone pines are laden with cones? I’m going to have to find loads of recipes to make the most of the pine nuts.”

“We’re lucky to have them for free. They are so expensive in the shops.”

“See, the joys of country living. Organic fruit and vegetables. And that reminds me, we have to get
Senhor
Pedro in again to give us a hand with the vegetable patch.”

“I thought you said he didn’t know what he was doing.”

“No, I said that like most people his age the thought of composting has never crossed his mind. Attracts vermin, he says. He just builds bonfires and burns everything. And I told him not to. Also, he doesn’t want to accept the fact that I don’t want him to use any pesticides.”

“Yes, these old rural folk are set in their ways. What do you want him to do, then?” asked David through a mouthful of homemade chicken pie.

“It’s time to sow onions, carrots, spinach and a number of other things. I also want to try watermelons. I used to love them when I was little.”

“Did you use to grow your own, mom?”

“No, we used to buy them at fruit and vegetable shops run by Madeirans. Little did I know then that I would be living in Portugal one day,” laughed Laura.

“Why
did
you come to Portugal, mom?”

“Well, when I graduated from university, I decided to travel around Europe for a while. I started off in France, and then I moved on to Spain and Portugal.”