1st chapter

hey this is the first time in years Ive been inspired to write again, so here goes - tell me what you think. This story is as yet untitled.

The sharp slap of the cold hit Susan’s face the minute she stepped off the bus. It was always the same in these European countries. The freezing air assaulted you, bit the inside of your nostrils with fierce piercing chill and turned your ears numb with vicious ferocity.

Europe was nothing new to Susan Blackwood, she had travelled extensively throughout the continent on various assignments many times. Romania, however was a first. She rarely felt anything more than a slight twinge of nerves when entering a new country, the rich blanket of
culture was something she was always happy to envelop with its range of sights, sounds and smells. But something about Romania had set her on edge.

It was Erie. In the distance, the sharp horizon of the Carpathian mountains seemed to cruelly stab the perfect blue of the sky with its jagged tips of cold rock. All around her stretched the grasslands that bowed to the mountains, scattered with the odd pine tree - bent and twisted with exposure to the merciless temper of the Romanian snow and wind.

There was an aura of silence hanging over the country, even when she had flown into the bustling airport the night before at the capital Bucharest. Though engines hummed, loudspeakers boomed and the crowds buzzed it seemed to Susan that she was listening the sounds through a pair of mufflers. At the hotel, doors opened to enormous, richly furnished rooms, but the air was perfectly still and the porter said nothing, but gazed silently with his
cool, appraising eyes.

She had slept badly that night, although the bed has been large, soft and comterble and a small, cozy fire had been lit in the bedroom fireplace. This had not been a case she had been willing to take when the call had come through from London the week before. An 18 year old English girl who had been reported missing over two years ago, had been rumoured to
have been seen on the outskirts of a Romanian forest by a British tourist.
Susan doubted anything could be less likely. But the family had requested a private investigator, and her superior had ordered Susan to take the case.
She had protested. She was due for a holiday, and images of the hot white sand, curling waves with foam tips and unabashed sunshine of Tahiti had been plaguing her mind for weeks. The house needed a renovation. And Max at last, was home.

Thinking of Max, his soft brown hair and richly dark eyes sent a warm tingle up and down her spine and she shivered delightedly. He had been away for 2 months this time, supervising the construction of an oil plant in the Middle East and Susan had loathed the cold nights alone at home, sleeping in the empty bed and reaching out in the dead of night for the warmth of a man who wasn’t there and missing the deep firmness of his voice as he wished her a good morning and they lay there in the comfort of each others arms. It had
been too long to wait and when he had arrived home, they had collapsed onto the sofa, a hot tangle of arms and legs and made frenzied love, and Susan had vowed never to put herself through the torture of extended separation from her lover ever again.

This had made little or no difference to her superior, Peter Whitney. A fat, bald man, with a shiny greasy scalp, his wife had left him years ago for a Spanish waiter she had met while holidaying in Madrid with her husband. This had scarcely been heartbreaking for Mr Whitney, who had always spent more time in his office than at home, regardless of his private life. He was a cold, sarcastic man, with little appreciation for the feelings of others and Susan’s requests for the Romanian case to be given to another colleague, had gone
unheard.

She had packed her bags angrily and reluctantly, Max standing in the doorway with a resigned of sadness is his soft dark eyes. Susan knew he was trying not to selfishly think of his own thoughts and needs and she loved him for it. It was clear to both of them that this was not what they wanted, but Max understood the pressures of her line of work, she knew that. Now she stood on the Carpathian plains her ears ringing with the unearthly silence that
seemed to cloud Romania and her heart begged her to return home soon.