Dr. Teloy by Mónica Benítez

Author:Mónica Benítez [Benítez, Mónica]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-01-17T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

Arlet Vila

Sunday, July 10, 2022

The moment you set foot on the Romanesque bridge in Besalú, spanning the Fluvià River, you feel transported to the Middle Ages. Narrow cobbled streets, houses with wooden windows, arches, and artisan shops contribute to making it one of Catalonia's most beautiful and well-preserved medieval towns.

I follow the on-foot navigator's directions to reach the house I'm looking for. Heeding yesterday's warning from Dr. Heredia not to ring the bell, I press it and, receiving no response, try a second time. I wait patiently, but no one comes to open, and I fear Vania might have seen me from behind some point in the fence without me noticing. This time, I ring the bell without caring if it displeases her; in any case, the result is the same.

I scan the street for a terrace to sit and have a drink. Perhaps Teloy has gone for one of her long walks to avoid spending time within four walls. At the last moment, I decide to lower the door handle, discovering that it's open. I push it cautiously and enter the garden.

"Hello?" I ask loudly.

No response comes, and though I should leave to avoid being reported for trespassing, my curiosity, fueled by sacks piled in a corner and a couple of patches of perfectly placed artificial grass, prompts me to walk around the house. To my horror, I discover everything in disarray. Rolls of turf on one side and another, artificial mesh, tools scattered on the ground, and no sign of Teloy.

The front door of the house is wide open. I climb the step leading inside and call out again.

"Vania, are you there?"

If the garden is a mess, the dining room is a disaster zone. All the furniture is gathered in the center, covered in plastic. Two walls are freshly painted, and another one is left unfinished.

"Vania!" I shout, beginning to worry as if she's been kidnapped.

I exit the house and decide to circle the entire garden before allowing myself to invade her privacy, ready to search room by room if necessary. As I reach the back of the house, I discover another entrance door opening to the street behind and a garage with a sliding wooden door, also wide open. Peering in, I'm left dumbfounded at the sight of Teloy sitting on the floor beside a large motorcycle, hands smeared with grease and parts of her body as well. She's so focused on whatever she's greasing that she hasn't noticed my presence.

"Teloy," I say softly, yet she startles and jumps to her feet.

"Damn!" she curses as she recognizes me. "What are you doing here, Arlet?" she demands in an unfriendly tone.

"Sorry, I called several times, and when I got no response, I took a look when I found the door open."

"I'm not talking about that; I'm talking about how you found me," she snaps, still recovering from the scare.

I can't reply; my gaze is hypnotized by her body, clad in shorts and a tank top. Her hair

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