Kept

‘I have to leave in ten minutes,’ she whined.

‘No problem,’ he replied with a smile.

Every day it was the same.  On office mornings, she had a plan that made them get up two hours before either one of them had to leave the apartment just so all the usual routines were followed.  On days like today, a rare shared day off, her scheduling was almost unbearable.  Harmony’s running countdown of the remaining time before they had to be out of the door rang like a chime down his spine.  The tinkle of her voice slowed him the more she tried to push.

‘Eight minutes and you are still not dressed.  Where is your shirt?’

Horace grabbed the only white shirt that was washed and held it for her to see.

‘Can you please iron this for me?’

‘You are joking, right?  Why can you never be organised?’

Huffing and with her face turning red, the anger seething just below her pale skin, she wrangled the ironing board from its hiding place at the end of the kitchen counter.  A practiced grip released its legs to their full extension.  She flung it over, rattled it close to the power outlet at the far wall.

Helpfully, Horace took the iron from its box on the lowest shelf, plugged it in and placed the slowly heating iron on the board.

‘I should let you do the ironing, really!  You should have told me last night or earlier this morning.  Really!’

From the tone of her voice he understood that her anger was abating, and that Harmony was simply stressed.  She did not want to be late and he felt for her.

While Harmony got busy on his shirt, Horace took out the trash.

‘How much time?’ he asked as he stepped back into the small kitchen.

Harmony was just finishing off the collar.

Without looking at him, focusing instead on the cotton material and the iron she held to it, she ignored him.

His eyes clung to her like a magnet to metal, and the moment she finished her chore, she handed him the warm shirt.

‘5.  Don’t you have a watch you could check?  Why do I have to do everything?’

She released the latch that held the ironing board’s legs extended, folded it and replaced it to its storage place.

‘Great,’ he smiled, snubbing her stress.  ‘That means I can do the washing up quickly.’

‘O for crying out loud!’  Her voice no longer tinkled but grated in his stomach.

She stepped into the lounge, grabbed her purse and sun glasses.

‘I have to go.’

‘You said, five minutes.’

‘I need you to be with me on this one, you promised to help me carry the box.’

‘I will, I will.’

He gently lowered her favourite mug into the sink, turned on the hot water and splashed washing up liquid over the dirty dishes and cutlery.  At his back, Harmony paced.

‘Have you put cream on your face?’ he asked her.

‘Of course.’

‘Have you packed your glasses?’

‘Yes.’

‘Have you got your passport?’

‘Naturally.’

‘What about that hand cream?’

‘Yes, that is in my purse, too.’

‘What about that scarf?’

‘It’s all there,’ she quibbled.

‘Are you sure?’

As she checked one last time and found all items in their correct place, Horace dried his hands on the dishcloth that hung off the stove top.

‘See, and while you are still checking, I am done.’

For the first time that morning, Harmony smiled.

‘But you have not buttoned up your shirt!’

Even while she spoke, he fumbled the buttons closed.

‘How much time?’

‘Two minutes.’

‘See, we are on time!  I really don’t know why you are fussing like this.  We have never been late yet!’

Harmony harrumphed.  She pushed him towards the door, pulled the keys off the lock on the inside and handed them to Horace who dutifully locked the door of their apartment from the outside.

They moved along the corridor to the elevator.

Horace was the first to notice that the lights above each of the four lifts were not showing the floor levels the cabins were on.  Then Harmony pointed out the sign.

They glanced at each other and reluctantly marched to the staircase.

‘Ten floors.  I hope by the time we get home that the lifts will be working again!’

Neither of them appreciated climbing ten flights of stairs, not even on a good day.

At the mezzanine level, they stopped to collect Harmony’s box, a handsome, sizeable make-up case, black with silver accents, that Horace had promised to carry for his wife.  It was heavier than it looked, and he was glad to do this favour for Harmony.

‘Thanks, darling,’ Harmony piped as they made their way to the main entrance of their building.

Just as they were about to leave, their landlady entered.

‘Harmony, Horace, so good to see you,’ she beamed.  ‘Do you have a moment?  I have something I wanted to discuss with you.’

Horace, who hung back behind Harmony, tried to push on.

‘We have to leave, I am awfully sorry, we are in a rush just now.  We catch up when we get back.’

‘No, no, it will only take a minute.  Let me tell you …’

The elderly landlady slipped a bulging bag off her shoulder.  By the look of her, she had just returned from the beach, a little pink around the edges where the sunscreen had not caught properly.  Her withering skin was in need of some nourishing after-sun care, and her sweaty body required a cooling shower.

‘Please, Dorothy,’ Harmony started but free of her luggage, Dorothy blocked their way out and meaningfully nodded her head.

‘Seriously, only a minute.’

Resigned, Harmony checked her watch.  2 minutes late already!

‘You see, it’s about the cockroaches.’

‘Cockroaches?  We don’t have cockroaches.  Have you seen any cockroaches, honey?’  Horace tried to guide the conversation along, knowing that Dorothy could stretch any short story into a full length novel.

‘That is exactly my point.  There are no cockroaches in this building.  But for it to remain that way, we have to spray again and we have to keep spraying.’

‘So what do you want from us?’  Harmony, too, feared Dorothy’s ability to stretch the most irrelevant snippets of information into major chunks of knowledge.

Interrupted, Dorothy looked from Horace to Harmony, trying to regroup her thoughts.

‘We need someone to come and do it.’

‘Pest Control, yes, just get someone.’

‘Well, it will cost.’

‘How much?’

‘I don’t know yet.’

‘Well, find out and let us know.  We really have to run now!’

Resolutely, Harmony pushed past the blockade that was Dorothy and hoped that Horace would follow.

‘5 minutes late.’

‘Honey, it will be alright, there is plenty of buffer in your planning.  We have never been late yet.’

As she stepped onto the sidewalk, she held out her hand and immediately, a taxi stopped.

Horace unloaded his box and they scrambled into the backseat.

‘Marina Mall, please.’

Slowly, the taxi inched into the evening traffic and made its way towards their destination.

Traffic on the Corniche was at a standstill.  Harassed, Harmony checked her watch and checked again, while Horace chatted to the driver.

‘Accident,’ she heard him say and thought ‘please, not now!’ as she sent a silent prayer to the powers above, hoping that they would comply with her wish for a speedy trip to the mall.

The taxi inched its way forward, her heart beating away the minutes.

She was supposed to have arrived at Marina mall already, she reluctantly admitted to herself.

Sideways, Horace searched her face.  He knew her too well, he knew how delicately she planned these engagements and how important time keeping was to her.  Her client would not stand for her being late and would rescind the contract.  Harmony had high hopes for this particular deal, and with the money she got paid, they would be in a good position to leave town, go for a long vacation before settling elsewhere in the world.

Harmony had been complaining about the heat.  It was only early June, and yet temperatures were above 40 degrees Celsius already.  The summer would be hot and long, and she suffered.  A vacation at this point would be nice, so Horace joined Harmony in her silent prayers.

Two traffic lights before the bridge to Marina Mall, as their taxi slowed for the changing lights, a small silver Honda ran straight into the back of them.

Harmony burst into tears.

‘Princess, don’t cry.  This is not your fault,’ Horace tried to console her, but she refused to take in his calming voice.

As the drivers got out of their cars, stopping all traffic yet again, they decided that they should not wait for the police.

They stepped outside, Horace motioned the driver to open the slightly concertinaed trunk of his Toyota while Harmony paid him double what showed on the clock.

‘Police coming,’ the driver tried to protest, but Harmony and Horace, swinging the box over his shoulder as if it was weightless, strode towards the next set of traffic lights in the hope of finding a taxi to take them across the bridge.

‘I have never been this late in my life,’ Harmony panted.

‘It will be alright,’ Horace insisted not for the first time.  There was nothing else to say.

Sweat was pouring down their backs when they reached the next taxi stop where a long line of people was already waiting.

Positioning herself just before the taxi bay, Harmony waited for the next taxi that was dropping off passengers and before anybody could object, climbed into the back seat with the box while Horace sat in the front.  Either ignored the anger of those they left behind waiting.  Instead, Horace showed the driver a 20 dirham note.

‘Marina Mall, please hurry.’

The man smiled, indicated and put his foot on the gas pedal to the floor as the cars in the main flow applied breaks and honked indignantly.

They did not slow for changing lights, and reached Marina Mall a few minutes later.

Horace grabbed the box, Harmony adjusted her blouse, and they as much as ran into the air conditioned building.

They hurried past shops advertising the latest reductions in time for the Ramadan sales, past shoppers enjoying a leisurely afternoon.  There was no more time to loose, the entire buffer of one hour that Harmony had included in her calculations to make the appointment on time had been used up.

They panted heavily by the time they reached the elevator to the tower.  There was no wait, the doors opened as they walked up, spitting out visitors from the coffee shop and vistas high above.

They were alone as they ascended.

‘You will be alright.  Just breathe, honey,’ he whispered as he rested his hand on the low of her back.

Harmony simply nodded.

At the level of the coffee shop, they exited.  Horace went to sit and wait for Harmony to finish her engagement, while Harmony slipped into the rest rooms.  Nerves always made her need to empty her bladder.

She ran cold water over the back of her hands and splashed some drops into her face.

Then she stood straight, ran her fingers through her hair and smiled at her reflection in the mirror.  This little exercise always helped her reign in her anxiety.

The box strap slung over her right shoulder, she made her way to the upper level.  The former restaurant stood empty for renovations that had been parked due to the turn down in the economy.  The space was empty and inviting, the views uninterrupted across Abu Dhabi and the Marina far below.

From her purse, she pulled her special spectacles.  Not only did they provide protection against the glare of the sun, they also magnified her field of vision by a factor of ten.  Unsteadily due to the momentary blur of her vision, she walked towards the windows.  It took her a moment before she managed to orientate herself and found the villa and docking area she was looking for.

‘You are late,’ Harmony had not heard the man approach.  ‘What kept you?’

Not turning away from the window, she shrugged.

‘I am here now.’

He glanced at his watch, shimmering golden and expensive on his hairy wrist.

‘You can do it?’

She nodded.

‘You got everything?’

Another nod.

She stepped aside and opened a window in a different direction.  From the box, she took the pieces of her rifle and attached the high definition scope.

The man gasped.

‘What are you doing?  This is the wrong boat!’

‘I am doing my job.’

She aimed at a tree far away and used the miss to adjust the new scope.

‘You got my money?’ She asked before she moved back into her previous position.

‘Yes,’ he gasped, marvelling at her calmness.  With the eye of a connoisseur, he ogled her equipment.

‘Can I see that?’  There was something in his voice that she did not like.

‘Are you trying to keep me from doing what I am supposed to be doing?’

‘Of course not.  Just ignore me: Do not let me keep you.’

She settled the rifle, adjusted the mechanism and aimed.  Before pulling the trigger, she stopped.

‘What are you doing here anyways?  Your presence was not part of the deal as far as I remember.’

‘I was waiting for you downstairs, but you did not show on time and I wondered …’

He did not finish his sentence as the rifle popped.  With the silencer, there was hardly any noise.

The man stood with his mouth open as Harmony showed him that the scantily clad woman on his yacht had collapsed.  She had hit her target.

He tried to speak but no words were formed that Harmony could understand.

‘My money?’  She held her hand out.

He placed an envelope into it, and she smoothly dropped it into her purse.

‘Nice watch,’ she admired as she unclipped it from his wrist.  As he tried to object, she tripped him and with a surprised exclamation, he fell through the open window to the roof far below.  There was a loud thump, but the glass did not break.  Unless somebody had seen him drop, it would be a while before he would be discovered.

Unhurriedly, Harmony replaced the pieces of her rifle into their cotton carrier, took off her gloves.  She was sorry to leave the new scope behind: that had cost a lot of money, but it was better this way.

‘Have you enjoyed your cappuccino?’ She asked of Horace minutes later.  As he took the beauty case from her, he noted its lighter weight.

‘How did it go?’ He asked, left eyebrow raised.

She shrugged and smiled.

‘He tried to keep me, but he paid the price.  The ultimate price.  In the end.’

Then, she handed Horace the Rolex.

‘Another one for your collection, darling,’ she cooed as, arm in arm and without hurry, they leisurely started their journey back to their apartment.