Read Online The Last Winter of Dani Lancing: A Novel by P. D. Viner - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: P. D. Viner
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pickles. He imagines them sousing them in malt vinegar, sprinkle of salt and then Heinz poured all over. Maybe they could eat on the sofa, in front of the TV—see the New Year in together. A new start, maybe. They could hold each other. Make love in their bed. Wake up in the morning and talk about Dani and love each other again.
“Patty?”
But there’s no reply. He finds a note on the kitchen table.
Gone. Back later. P
.
No little x of a kiss. Jim wonders for the thousandth time if his wife can bear to be with him any longer.
“Will you stop staring at me, I feel like I’m on fucking suicide watch,” she’d said just yesterday.
He makes himself a coffee, and sits at the kitchen table, staring deeply into the patina of the wood until it swims before his eyes. He loves this table. He and Patty found it in a junk shop in Chichester soon after they were married. It was a beautiful shape but scuffed and scratched, a piece hacked out of the middle. They bought it for next to nothing and restored it, the two of them, a shared project. They found a piece of wood that was as close as close, its twin, and joined them together. Jim traces his fingertips across the top, following the grain with his hand. Even though he knows where to look for the piece they grafted in, he can barely see it. The scar has healed and the wood bonded.
He remembers how happy they’d been working together, sanding and planing. It’s a beautiful memory and he allows it to wander through his head and warm his thoughts. Then it passes and the cold invades his mind once more.
There is a light knock on the door.
“Are you okay?” a woman calls out.
Patty can’t answer. She sits on the toilet and sobs as the train sways beneath her. In the bowl her bile and small flecks of the little she ate this afternoon swill about and will not flush away. Tears flow freely, splattering down into her lap as she leans forward. Ithad taken her all this time to find him, months. Sending letters, pestering his family, putting posters around, all to find this Seb Merchant and … and it was such a fucking waste of time and now there is no lead, there is no suspect, there is no hope.
She sits there, on the foul-smelling toilet, and lets the grief and frustration bubble up and die. She’s lost. She’s used up every last favor and dried up the last reserves of goodwill. She knew it was coming, has seen how old colleagues shy away from her or run the other way when they see her. How the Durham students take a step back from her when she tries to question them, thinking they’ve told her every last thing they knew about Dani. She knows how she’s pestered them, but she thought something would give, someone would crack, and allow her a glint of hope. But what happens now?
“Are you okay? I’ll get the guard,” the voice calls through the door once more. Concern mixed with more than a little annoyance.
“I’m …” Patricia begins. “I don’t need the guard.”
She hears the woman grumble and walk off, possibly searching for another toilet. Patricia tries to stand but the nausea sweeps across her once more and she drops back feeling everything unravel. She is so scared, scared that nothing of Dani will remain, even her face is fading in her thoughts. In her bag she keeps a photo. She stares at it every day but she knows that more and more it is the photograph she remembers and not Dani. She can do nothing for her now, all those years of feeding, washing, dressing, encouraging and loving—loving, always loving. But at the end it was all shit, all such shit, all arguments and disappointments and all fucked up. With no goodbye, no time to prepare. That Christmas. Oh God, the Christmas—last Christmas.
“I forced her away.” Patty cramps at the memory. Dani wasmeant to stay for a week and it was just two days. They argued so bitterly.
“That was what I left her with. She hated me.” The tears will not stop.
“It will get better, time heals all
“Patty?”
But there’s no reply. He finds a note on the kitchen table.
Gone. Back later. P
.
No little x of a kiss. Jim wonders for the thousandth time if his wife can bear to be with him any longer.
“Will you stop staring at me, I feel like I’m on fucking suicide watch,” she’d said just yesterday.
He makes himself a coffee, and sits at the kitchen table, staring deeply into the patina of the wood until it swims before his eyes. He loves this table. He and Patty found it in a junk shop in Chichester soon after they were married. It was a beautiful shape but scuffed and scratched, a piece hacked out of the middle. They bought it for next to nothing and restored it, the two of them, a shared project. They found a piece of wood that was as close as close, its twin, and joined them together. Jim traces his fingertips across the top, following the grain with his hand. Even though he knows where to look for the piece they grafted in, he can barely see it. The scar has healed and the wood bonded.
He remembers how happy they’d been working together, sanding and planing. It’s a beautiful memory and he allows it to wander through his head and warm his thoughts. Then it passes and the cold invades his mind once more.
There is a light knock on the door.
“Are you okay?” a woman calls out.
Patty can’t answer. She sits on the toilet and sobs as the train sways beneath her. In the bowl her bile and small flecks of the little she ate this afternoon swill about and will not flush away. Tears flow freely, splattering down into her lap as she leans forward. Ithad taken her all this time to find him, months. Sending letters, pestering his family, putting posters around, all to find this Seb Merchant and … and it was such a fucking waste of time and now there is no lead, there is no suspect, there is no hope.
She sits there, on the foul-smelling toilet, and lets the grief and frustration bubble up and die. She’s lost. She’s used up every last favor and dried up the last reserves of goodwill. She knew it was coming, has seen how old colleagues shy away from her or run the other way when they see her. How the Durham students take a step back from her when she tries to question them, thinking they’ve told her every last thing they knew about Dani. She knows how she’s pestered them, but she thought something would give, someone would crack, and allow her a glint of hope. But what happens now?
“Are you okay? I’ll get the guard,” the voice calls through the door once more. Concern mixed with more than a little annoyance.
“I’m …” Patricia begins. “I don’t need the guard.”
She hears the woman grumble and walk off, possibly searching for another toilet. Patricia tries to stand but the nausea sweeps across her once more and she drops back feeling everything unravel. She is so scared, scared that nothing of Dani will remain, even her face is fading in her thoughts. In her bag she keeps a photo. She stares at it every day but she knows that more and more it is the photograph she remembers and not Dani. She can do nothing for her now, all those years of feeding, washing, dressing, encouraging and loving—loving, always loving. But at the end it was all shit, all such shit, all arguments and disappointments and all fucked up. With no goodbye, no time to prepare. That Christmas. Oh God, the Christmas—last Christmas.
“I forced her away.” Patty cramps at the memory. Dani wasmeant to stay for a week and it was just two days. They argued so bitterly.
“That was what I left her with. She hated me.” The tears will not stop.
“It will get better, time heals all
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