The Woman in the Yellow Shirt Dress

The day announced itself to be a bright and peaceful one. They were both off work for the St Brigid bank holiday and he felt the need to do something to celebrate they were off, the lovely weather after quite a few storms and just do some exercise instead of sitting on their bums all day.

Looking back at that moment, when the decision was made, he would be certain it was his decision to go to the woods, and he would curse himself for it every time he remembered it. Muireann had just gone along with it although, she would obviously have preferred to lounge about the house.

Ruairi got dressed appropriately for walking through the muddy forest, but for some reason, he thought to spite him for dragging her along, Muireann wore this bright, yellow shirt dress over a turtle neck sweater and leggings.

‘WHY would you wear THAT dress when we go walking in the woods?’

She just ignored him, and went on to cover herself in a long, woolly coat, that made her look like she was wearing a blanket.

He knew she would be uncomfortable dressed like that, but he decided to keep the peace and not push her any further.

The drive to the woods was spend in silence and he could swear that at some point he saw her eyes glazing over with tears, but then she blew her nose noisily and he started to doubt himself.

The woods were majestic. Extremely tall, old trees flanked large pathways through where the machinery that cleared out the trees would pass. Other passage ways were just narrow footpaths created for the frequent walkers.

Some of the trees looked shaken up by the storms and in a way Ruairi felt bad for the destruction, but nature does its own thing no matter if we are there to see it or not.

Muireann was walking alongside him struggling in the heavy, wool coat. They were walking for just fifteen minutes when she stopped abruptly.

‘I need to pee!’

‘What?’, he was stunned, they had just left the house, how could she need to pee already.

‘I need to pee! There is nobody. I will just sneak over there!’, and she pointed in an indefinite direction.

‘You are literally just killing me! Honestly!’, later on, thinking about this exchange Ruairi would be overcome with unspeakable guilt. Why did he have to make such a big deal out of it?

‘You need to hold my coat, I can’t pee with it on …’

‘Muireann, honestly let’s drive home! What if somebody sees you? It will be all over town!’

She smiled then, such a sad, beautiful smile and looked at him in a way he had not seen before.

‘Don’t worry, I will go really far!’, her voice was cold and determined.

Ruairi had to accept there was nothing he could do.

‘Fine! I will wait for your a bit farther in front so people don’t think you are in here.’

She nodded and without any other word melted in the darkness of the forest. He saw the yellow dress shirt for a bit, and then, he decided he needed to move himself so he did not betray the spot where she went in.

For the longest time after that, he was not even sure he been looking for her in the right spot. In his fear that people will see, he had walked quite a bit in front. Playing on his phone he was not sure how long she had been gone for.

When it had obviously been too long since she went, Ruairi walked back, looking for the place where she went in. He wasn’t sure where it was though, and after walking almost all the way back and not meeting her, a dark feeling took over him.

‘Where was she?’

He started calling out her name as loudly as he could. Some people walking their dog stopped to look at him, without too many words they understood what was happening and called the guards, although he was sure it was nothing, she was ok, she had to be, she was just there a minute ago.

‘Best to call them, she might be hurt somewhere, they will help us find her faster!’

Other walkers, at that moment in the woods, joined the search. Soon the guards came and through tears he told them what happened. How she just went to take a pee behind a tree and never came back.

The tall, menacing guard he was talking to gently patted him on the shoulder.

‘We will start the search right away!’

It was only in the evening that they found the dress. The unmistakable yellow shirt dress was found abandoned at the root of a tree, hidden in a black bin bag. Some other, smaller plastic bags, indicated that there had been something else there that was taken away.

When the night came they all had to pack up and leave. By now Ruairi was convinced somebody had kidnapped her, and he spent all night on the couch watching his phone. Muireann’s phone was turned off.

In the morning the guards came over, and he again talked with the tall, scary guard from the woods.

It seems some details had come in that morning from Muireann’s work. Some money were missing.

‘Two hundred thousand euros. Would you know anything about that?’, the guard’s voice was calm and commanding.

Ruairi laughed a shocked kind of laughter, but then when it was clear the guard was serious he stopped.

‘You’re not serious are you? Muireann would never steal!’, that is when it dawned on him. ‘It is the kidnappers! They had her draw out the money and give them to … them … my poor Muireann the nightmare she must be going through! You must find her!’ and he broke down in a hysterical state mixing laughter with crying.

They had to call and ambulance and take him to hospital, there was nobody there to sit with him.

***

Ruairi was in the hospital for about two weeks, time in which the investigation into Muireann’s disappearance had been worked on by the guards. It seemed that Muireann had been squirreling away money for over two years. A few euros from unsuspecting customers, which in the end, amassed to over two hundred thousand euros. The money had been transferred through a few off shore accounts until their trace was completely lost, she was a banker after all, so she knew exactly what she needed to do.

It was clear to everybody that she had taken thee money and ran, but nobody really understood why did she leave her husband like that. Was he truly not involved? They had no proof that he was.

When presented with these facts Ruairi refused to accept them. Muireann would never steal, they were not that kind of people. Nobody could tell him how his wife was, he knew her better than anyone, they had been together since they were teenagers, almost thirty years before. She had been kidnapped, and the guards were just hiding their incompetence behind this crazy story.

A year later Ruairi moved out. He contracted a management company to let our their house and he moved to Donegal, as far away as possible to anything that would remind him of this dark time in his life.

He would never recover from it, but at least he could remove himself from the place where everything reminded him of the absurdity of it all.

His letters were forwarded to him once a month, but he never bothered to open them. There was no point. Among these unopened letters, lay one, that maybe he would have liked to know the content of. Or maybe not …

It was a letter bearing an European post mark and the sender was one Blanche Mer. He did not know anyone named Blanche, but he would have had an idea of whom it was.

The letter said:

Ruairi,

I cannot say too much, but I did want you to know it was me, not you or us.

One morning, I woke up and realized my life was fast approaching its end and I had not done anything. We were living small, insignificant lives, and our end would be just that, meaningless leaving no trace.

I always knew that if you take one euro here, one there nobody really notices. I wouldn’t notice and they didn’t either, for the longest time.

I wanted to tell you about it, but you would have never taken stolen money, you would have never run away with me, you are not THAT KIND of person. But I am! Who knew!? I didn’t! I had no idea I had it in me and I am not bothered by it at all!

I expected I would be, but I am not, and this living in hiding suits me just fine. I am hiding in a most wonderful paradise, but I am already saying too much!

Ruairi, I am so sorry for all the pain I caused you, it was never about you, it was about me.

You are free.

B :)

But, he never read the letter, and he never knew that, she did not know how much she meant to him, and that, for her, he could have been all the kinds of person he needed to be.