70 I like roses (2/2)
”Because I have an idea.”
”I do not know if I like it.”
”Come Ben, tell me something nice.” Laila felt light as a feather. She floated on the feeling of triumph. ”What is this idea?”
”Hm, first something nice, did you miss me?” Silence on the other end of the line. ”Ben, I really need it, all right now, but I've had some ugly things to do to talk to you right now, so do not dress like that.” A sigh. ”I missed you, I was worried, about you.”
”How soon can you organise a flight, let's say for myself, as a grieving widow, and once for my deceased husband? ”
”I think he lives.”
”Yes, and that should remain so, I just want to make it unobtrusively out of the country, because I can hardly put it next to me and permanently chewing in the face.”
”In the coffin? He needs oxygen. Where are you going? America?”
”Yeah, the airport should be in the immediate vicinity of Cestohowa.”
”What do you want there?”
”I like roses.”
”Laila .” His voice trembled. ”I did not ask for your opinion, I have no plan where I am, probably in Summersby's home or cottage, I can see trees, but no other houses, the door is locked, I could insert a window to get out. The shack is being torched, send me someone to pick up Summersby and me from here. ”
”Laila, I ...”
”Since when do I discuss my decisions with you? Do you have the number?” Laila hissed into the phone. Quietly ”yes”
”Good, then get in touch in due time, I'll hit my ear now, for” - Laila looked at the clock over the fireplace - ”about 3 hours.” She broke the connection. She was angry. This was similar to Benedict.
First he quarrelled until Laila had agreed to this order. And now, when she wanted to end it in her own way, he played her admonishing conscience. Impetuous annoyance overcame Laila. He was not there when she found the victims dead or alive.
It was Laila who was spattered with the blood of the killers and molesters when she sent her to hell. Benedict was not plagued by nightmares. Should the ass-hole live on in his sanctimonious little world and play the moral apostle? Laila had long ago sold her soul to the devil.
Angrily, she pushed out the thick Havana on the glass plate. She threw herself on the couch and looked at the dark green velour. fabric of the backrest. Three hours sleep. Benedict would not dare to disturb her first.