Freeman put his hands on the girl's shoulders. She looked small and vulnerable and his heart went out to her. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and protect her, to banish all her fears for ever. 'There's no need to be sad. Everything's all right now,' he said.
She nodded but Freeman could see that she wasn't convinced.
'Come on, let's go inside. Katherine's probably got dinner ready.'
Mersiha looked as if there was something else she wanted to say; there was a pleading in her eyes. Freeman realised with a jolt when he'd last seen the imploring look. It was when he'd found her in the camp, her head shaved, wearing rags. 'I don't want to go in yet. I'll come in soon. Okay?'
Freeman pinched her chin gently. 'Okay, pumpkin. I understand.'
He stood up and went inside on his own. Katherine was chopping tomatoes. He put his briefcase on the kitchen table, went up behind her and hugged her. 'What's wrong with Mersiha?' he said.
'What do you mean?' Katherine asked, as she sliced the last tomato.
'She looked down in the dumps. Wouldn't tell me what was wrong.'
Katherine shrugged. 'She seemed happy enough an hour ago.'
She picked up a large onion and began peeling it.
'No problems at school?' he asked.
'Not that I know of,' she said. 'Maybe she's having her period.'
Freeman grinned. 'That's a sexist remark, if ever I heard one,' he said.
'I wouldn't make fun of me while I've a knife in my hand,'
Katherine said. 'Remember Fatal Attraction.'
'Okay, okay,' Freeman said, slipping his arms from around her waist and planting a kiss on the back of her neck. 'What's for dinner?'
'Pasta, with tomato and basil sauce.'
'Sounds great,' he said. 'Can you go easy with the garlic? I've got a meeting with our union officials tomorrow and it's going to be hard enough to get them to look me in the eyes as it is.'
'Sure.' She chopped the onions into tiny cubes and scraped them off the cutting board into a large pan on the stove. 'Can you look after the pasta? I'm going out for a while. Nordstrom's is having a sale in Towson. I'm meeting a few of the girls there.'
'Why don't you take Mersiha? Do a little mother-daughter bonding?'
Katherine shook her head. 'She's got homework to do.' She looked at her watch. 'I have to go.' She sniffed at the red sauce as it bubbled in the pan. 'Let this simmer for about fifteen minutes.
The pasta's in the fridge, the instructions are on the packet.'
'We'll be fine,' Freeman said. 'You go, you don't want to keep the girls waiting.'
Katherine went upstairs to change. Freeman walked over to the kitchen window. Mersiha was still sitting under the willow tree. She appeared to be looking in his direction but when he waved there was no reaction. He checked the heat under the saucepan, noted the time on the stove timer, and went upstairs.
Katherine was in the bathroom in bra and pants, stepping into a light blue dress. Freeman grabbed for her as she straightened up, slipping his hands around her full breasts and pushing himself against her. He nuzzled her neck. 'You smell good,' he said.
She tried to button up the front of the dress, but Freeman kept a hold of her. 'Come on, how about a quickie?' he asked, only half joking.
'Three reasons. I'm late, Mersiha's going to walk in at any moment, and you're sweaty.' She reached behind with both hands and rubbed them against his groin. He felt himself grow hard. 'Maybe later,' she said.
'How about a kiss?' he said. 'A consolation prize?'
Katherine twisted around and put her arms around his neck, the full length of her body pressing against him as she kissed him.
He moaned as she slipped her tongue between his teeth and he tried to push her back, on to the bed.
She pulled her head back and tapped him on the nose with her index finger. 'Later,' she said. She stepped back and buttoned up her dress. 'You'd better keep an eye on that sauce.'
'Yeah, a man's place is in the kitchen,' he said.
He went back downstairs. The sauce was simmering nicely so he took his briefcase through into the study. He sat down at his desk and turned on his computer and monitor. He knew the figures in the financial spreadsheet by heart but he wanted to look at them again nonetheless, as if by going over them one last time he'd uncover a hidden cash reserve or profit centre. He slumped back in his chair and ran a hand through his hair. Prepared phrases kept popping into his mind. Well placed for the economic upturn. A temporary profits reversal.
Negative cash flow resulting in a cessation of dividend payments.
The fancy language meant only one thing. The company was haemorrhaging money and would continue to do so for the foreseeable future. 'Shit,' he said, out loud.
Katherine appeared at the door. 'What's wrong?' she asked.
Freeman looked up. She was wearing full make-up and she'd brushed her hair until it shone. He knew how important it was for her to look good in front of her peers. Her friends were the bitchiest group of women he'd ever come across outside of a prime-time television show. They seemed to take a delight in ripping each other apart, like sharks turning on their own at the scent of blood. Freeman reckoned the reason they were always going out together was because they feared that if they weren't there they'd be the target of the scorn and derision. Better to turn up and be a part of the bitching than to be absent and be the butt of it. 'You look fabulous,' he said. He didn't want to get dragged into a discussion about the company's worsening financial situation.
'Why, thank you. Don't forget the sauce.'
'I won't. Have a good time.'
She blew him a kiss and left. A few moments later he heard her car start up. He switched off the computer and went into the kitchen. He rapped on the window with his knuckles but Mersiha didn't get up. He opened the back door. 'Hey, pumpkin, supper's ready!' he called.
Mersiha got to her feet and walked over, her hands thrust deep into the pockets of her jeans. He ruffled her hair as she walked by him. 'Katherine's out so it's just you and me.'
'Where did she go?' she asked, her voice a flat monotone.
'Shopping,' he said, sniffing at the sauce. There was a strong smell of garlic which almost masked the basil. 'Can you get the pasta? It's in the fridge.'
Mersiha frowned. 'Shopping? Are you sure?'
'That's what she said, pumpkin. Come on, pass the pasta.'
'I'm not hungry,' Mersiha said, and rushed out of the room.
Buffy sat in front of the stove and watched her go. The dog looked up at the food on the stove, at the door, and then back at the stove. She sat down and woofed quietly.
'Yours is in the tin,' Freeman told the dog as he went out of the kitchen after Mersiha. 'Get it yourself.'
He found Mersiha in her bedroom, face down and hugging her pillow. He sat down next to her and reached out to stroke her long black hair. 'Hey, whatever it is, it can't be that bad,' he said softly. 'Can't you tell me about it?'