Питер Мэй - A Silent Death

Ana felt her heart swell. ‘I wish I’d had someone like you to teach me. Maybe I wouldn’t have grown up believing that everyone else was better.’

‘Oh, Ana...’ He placed both of his hands over one of hers. ‘You mustn’t ever think that. You’re beautiful inside and out. You’re clever, you’re articulate, you’re funny.’ He paused and she felt his hands tighten their grip on hers. ‘I think you’re wonderful.’

She blushed and glanced away, embarrassed by his directness, but filled with pleasure. And feelings of — she wasn’t quite sure what. Just feelings she had never had before.

They ate their way through every plate, washing it all down with a second glass of wine. They talked and laughed and Ana thought, this is how it must be for ordinary people. For the first time in her life she forgot about her hearing difficulties, forgot that Sergio was deaf. Simply felt the pleasure of being alive, and enjoying the company of the person she was with.

When it came time to go, and Sergio paid the bill, she got up from the table with reluctance, for the first time allowing thoughts to enter her mind of what might await her when she got home. In the port outside, bright lights obliterated the darkness, turning night into day, air filled with the sound of humanity at play. Sounds Sergio would never hear, and which registered only distantly for Ana. As they wove their way through the terrace Ana stumbled on someone’s bag lying on the floor and almost fell.

Sergio caught her, and for a moment she found herself in his arms, safe from all the dangers that the night presented. He made sure she was steady on her feet before letting her go. She laughed it off. ‘I’m getting so clumsy. Tripping over things that I don’t seem to notice, bumping into people as I go past them.’

Sergio laughed. ‘It’s the wine. I feel a little heady myself.’

He took her hand and she leaned in to his side as they walked up out of the port to the bus stop in the Avenue del Carmen. They stood waiting for the bus and for the first time that night could find nothing to say. Something about the anticipation of parting silenced tongues and hands. They had spent many hours together at the centre, but this was their first time out alone, and Ana wondered how they would end it. Her mouth was dry, and her heart beat a little faster when she saw the lights of the bus turning on the roundabout. But she had no time to think about it before she felt Sergio’s arm around her waist, his face lowering itself to hers, his lips soft and warm brushing her mouth. She strained on tiptoes to kiss him, and they very nearly let the bus go past.

When it came to a stop, Sergio held her hand as she stepped up into it, and she slumped into a seat at the front ignoring the lecherous grin of the driver.

The twenty-minute drive back to Marviña passed in a blur, a confusion of thoughts and emotions. She tried not to think about her parents, but focus instead on the time she had spent with Sergio. But as her bus turned up the hill from the roundabout at Santa Ana de las Vides, she couldn’t prevent fears of what awaited her from creeping into her conscious thoughts.

It seemed profoundly dark as she stepped off the bus into the Plaza del Vino. The square, she knew, was ringed with street lights, and she wondered for a moment if there had been a power cut. She heard rather than saw the bus pull away and the hand of fear closed around her heart and filled her with dread. Why couldn’t she see anything? It was as if the whole town was smothered in black dust. She was gripped almost immediately by a complete sense of disorientation. It was only a five-minute walk to the apartment, but she had no idea which way to go. She turned left, then right, stumbling over a kerbstone and nearly falling. She put her hands out ahead of her to avoiding walking into a wall or a building or a lamp post and wanted to call out for someone to help her. But at this hour the town was deserted. Shutters closed, bars emptied, lights out.

Her fear was so great now it took almost physical form, rising up from her chest and into her throat, very nearly choking her. She staggered forwards, hearing the approaching vehicle before becoming aware, even more distantly, of its headlights turning towards her. She spun around in a panic, heard the screech of tyres, and the impact of the car as it sent her careening sideways. The world tilted, the falling sensation ending abruptly as her head hit the tarmac and true darkness enveloped her.

When light finally penetrated the black, she became aware of a softness enfolding her, almost as if she were suspended in it. But with the light came pain, a searing pain that spiked through her skull and violated her consciousness. She opened her eyes, startled, only to be blinded by the light in her bedroom.

Beyond initial confusion, shapes took form around her. Silhouettes against the light. Faces crystallized into familiarity. Her mother, her father. Isabella. A man who it took her some moments to realize was their family physician, Doctor Celestino. A small and balding man with large, horn-rimmed glasses. They leaned into her field of vision and she could see concern on all their faces.

The doctor’s voice came to her faintly. Her hands shot instinctively to her ears, but her hearing aids had been removed.

‘She’s lucky,’ Celestino was saying. ‘Some cuts and bruises, but nothing broken, I think. The driver said he had come to a virtual standstill before he hit her.’

Then her father’s voice, tight with anger. ‘I can smell alcohol on her breath. She was out drinking with that boy!’

Anger gave Ana the strength to pull herself up on to one elbow. ‘I am not drunk!’ she shouted, only convincing everyone in the room that she was. ‘I couldn’t see when I got off the bus. Everything was dark, like they’d turned out the lights.’ The effort of speaking exhausted her and she dropped once more on to her back. ‘I couldn’t even see the stars in the sky.’

‘So you were blind drunk!’ her father growled.

‘ Papi !’ It was Isabella’s voice, trying to calm their father.

Doctor Celestino leaned in close to peer into her eyes. ‘Has that ever happened to you before, mi niña ?’ he asked.

‘I’ve never let her drink in this house.’ Her father was defensive now. ‘Not once.’

But Celestino ignored him. ‘Ana,’ he said. ‘Has it?’

Ana tried to bring clarity to her confusion. ‘No. Not like that. I never see well at night. Never have.’ She paused. ‘It’s like that for everyone, isn’t it?’ Then, ‘It’s as if I was blind. I just couldn’t see.’

Ana’s mother’s voice now. ‘Is there something wrong with her, doctor?’

But Celestino kept his focus on Ana. ‘Do you have trouble seeing things in your peripheral vision, little one?’

Ana didn’t understand. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Bump into things or people on either side of you that you just don’t see. Trip over stuff on the ground.’

Ana remembered what she had told Sergio only an hour before. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘All the time.’

Celestino turned towards Ana’s parents, his voice laden with concern. ‘I think maybe Ana should see a specialist.’

Resentment simmered in Ana’s house for the next ten days. Neither of her parents could forgive her, nor she them. She did not go back to the centre while she waited for her appointment with the ophthalmologist in Estepona. School had closed for the summer, and it had not been decided whether Ana would return for a repeat year or apply for a place at college. Her results were not yet in, and everything would depend on how good, or bad, they were.

The days dragged and she wished there were some way she could contact Sergio to tell him what had happened. But she had no idea where he lived, or even his family name.