Part 1: Chapter One: May 2004
On the thirteenth of May, Miriam van der Burgh opened her eyes and looked round the room. There was that fuzzy feeling in her head again, as if she hadn’t slept at all. The alarm started to go off. She reached over Andrew and turned it off quickly. Hadn’t she asked him not to turn it on last night? She couldn’t stand loud noises these days. She pushed aside the duvet and swung her legs over the edge of the bed before walking straight to the medicine cabinet. She took two Panadol and swallowed them with some water from the cold tap.
Andrew stirred then got up, just like he did every morning. He reached for his glasses, the same way as always. He stuffed his feet into his slippers, the same way as always. And he pulled his dressing gown over one shoulder.
The same way as always.
‘You still getting those headaches?’ he asked frowning.
‘Yes. I’ve taken some painkillers. I’ll make a cup of tea.’
‘You need to see the doctor. I’ve told you a thousand times, but you never listen.’
He was speaking in his annoyed, raspy voice, and she grew irritable. ‘I’ve only just started having these aches and pains. It’s old age catching up.’
‘You’re talking as if you’re bloody seventy instead of forty. I mean, look at Rhoda…’
‘Yes, let’s look at Rhoda. Thin as a rake and still goes jogging three times a week. Anyway, she’s coming round today—we’re lunching at that Trust company that’s raising money for kids who don’t have breakfast. So, if I’m not home, you know where I’ll be.’
‘Well don’t drink. And don’t get up—let the tablets work. I can do my own breakfast. I’m not exactly a doddering old fool yet.’
Why did he always sound so smug? He gave her a peck on the cheek before running downstairs.
That peck was the most affection she got from him these days. But she didn’t mind. They’d grown apart, her and Andrew.
By this time, her head was thumping to a scary level, but she dressed and struggled downstairs, thinking she might have to let Rhoda represent the teachers on her own. Andrew was right: she did need to see her GP. She’d give them a call as soon as the surgery opened.
The doorbell rang. It was Rhoda, her best friend and fellow teacher, all done up in a slim-fitting black and white outfit that made her look professional and sexy, her long dark hair styled in a plait.
‘You okay?’ Rhoda asked. ‘You’re very red in the face.’
‘I’ve got a killer headache. I’m just about to call the surgery. I feel awful.’
‘You sit down, let me do that. I’ll cancel our places at the do. We can give away money any time... Right now you need to see someone.’
Miriam heard the door. She saw Andrew walk in but he didn’t seem to notice her. He was smiling and pointing to the basement. Miriam tried to say something, but the power of speech eluded her. She held out her hand, which Rhoda took, and then she slumped to the floor. What was Andrew doing back home? He took off his jacket as if he’d decided to stay put, and he seemed somewhat animated. Something was going on, she thought, not just flirting or being nasty to the wife—something far more sinister.
