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At ten past four, I checked my phone again for a text from Nikita. She had promised to contact me, and I believed her.
"Fuck, where is she?" I asked Gaetano.
who was slouching against a porch post.
I began pacing back and forth, dragging my fingers over my head, and scrubbing them down my face.
“I’ll call Mother.”
“Let me do it, Ben, you keep watching.”
Gaetano pulled a phone from his pocket and dialled. I heard it ring only once before my mother answered.
“Lucia, has Nikita left yet?”
Gaetano listened to what mother had to say and I hadn’t thought it possible, but Gaetano’s olive skin paled.
"We'll be straight over."
Gaetano hung up the phone. "Car."
We hurried to the car and within minutes, were on the road to my parents. I waited until we were on our way to question him.
“What did Mother say?”
“Nikita hasn’t been there.”
My head snapped sideways. “She went there to have lunch with my mother. I put her in the car myself and told Mario to take her straight there.”
“It was a cover your mother and wife came up with so Nikita could attend a job interview.”
“Godfuckingdamnit! What the fuck were they thinking? Who goes to a job interview on a fucking Sunday?”
"Ben, calm down. We don't know all the details yet. I thought it would be best for you to get the information directly from Lucia. Nikita could just be running late."
I knew in my heart Nikita was in trouble. Ice-cold blood flowed through my veins. For the first time, I felt something was beyond my control and the thought was terrifying.
***
Gaetano didn’t get a chance to turn off the car engine before I was out and striding towards my childhood home.
My best friend, brother, and second-in-charge was hot on my heels as I pushed through the front door.
“Mother!” I shouted loudly.
My parents appeared from the direction of the kitchen. Father's arm was around mother's waist and her hands were clasped, the fingers twisting in each other. She only ever did that when she was severely distressed. Tears shone in her eyes and Father frowned with concern.
Taking a deep breath, I reigned in my anger. Mother had taken to Nikita instantly and I suspected she cared deeply for the lady. She wouldn’t have deliberately endangered her life.
"Come and sit down, Son." Father led Mother to the living room. Gaetano and I followed, and we all sat.
“From the beginning, Mother,” I urged.
"Nikita has applied to a number of schools for a teaching position and on Thursday, she received a call from a woman who said she was the principal of Mosman Key Grammar School. Her name was Marilyn. Nikita was offered an interview, but I gathered from the way she explained, the meeting was merely a formality, and she had the job." Mother paused and glanced at father.
“Keep going,” I encouraged.
"Marilyn asked for a meeting on Monday, but this morning Nikita got another call asking if they could meet today instead."
