For a long time, I just sat there, completely naked. I looked around my room and saw what had become of my life. This room was my prison. The only difference was if I was lucky, I could sneak out at night and find someone to grant me a conjugal visit. Everything I owned had been squirreled away. What was once the walk-in wardrobe filled with Armani and Versace suits, all immaculately pressed and lined up, was now filled with clothes tossed in piles and shoved wherever they fitted. In the ensuite all traces of Gillian’s makeup and sweet-smelling perfume were gone. Instead, on the vanity next to my cheap disposable razor, was a kettle and a tin of instant coffee. Even the sight of it made me want to scream. How the hell had this become my life?
Last night’s conquest’s clothes littered the floor, along with a month’s worth of empty bourbon and vodka bottles. The empty pizza boxes gave the room a peculiar odour which I hadn’t noticed before but now it made me want to heave. Then, out of nowhere it hit me. This time I might have just gone too far.
For the first time in as long as I could remember, I regretted what had happened and wondered if Gillian was all right. My sobriety was immediate. In the past I’d been smarter. I’d picked my battles and had possessed enough control not to take it too far. Not to hurt her too badly. This had been the case since after the night I’d punched her in the stomach, causing a huge shit storm, not only with Mum, who’d watched the whole thing, but also with Gillian’s pregnancy. Since then I’d never left a bruise. At least not where anyone could see. But not this time.
This time though, something was different. Gillian had come home looking for a fight. She was angry, agitated, and aggressive. For the first time in a decade, I saw the passion that I once admired about her, was still there. Only this time, it didn’t impress me. It just escalated everything. Now all I could do was pray she had enough sense to hide what I could almost guarantee were going to be marks on her neck and her wrist. Surely, she’d need medical help. Would she open her big mouth and blab about what had happened? She never had before, so maybe she’d keep her mouth shut. I’d never gone that far either. More than a little worried I didn’t know whether I’d pushed her over the edge and if I did, how long it would be until the police came knocking.
Determined not to let this ruin what was left of my life, I jumped up with a renewed sense of responsibility. I couldn’t deny the bruising, and I knew there was no way I’d be able to lie my way out of a broken wrist and the finger marks dotting her neck if the police came looking, but I was hoping I could talk my way out of pretty much everything else. She had no proof. Gillian was too dumb, too worried about other people’s opinions to cover her arse, but I knew I had to cover mine. I darted into the shower and washed away the filth, the whore from last night, the smell of Gillian’s vanilla perfume on my skin. For ten minutes I stood under the scalding water and scrubbed, emerging a new man. Freshly shaven, I slipped on the only clean shirt in the cupboard and a pair of ill-fitting Calvin Klein jeans. My once impressive body now hung over the waistband, reminding me I hadn’t been for a run in years. Yet another thing that Gillian had fucked up for me.
Once I was up and moving, I worked like a crazed man. Driven by an invisible force, I scooped up the piles of clothes from the bedroom floor, tossing out any clothes that weren’t mine, and took them straight to the laundry. Even through all the trouble, Gillian had still been washing my clothes. I’d dump them in a pile on the floor, unsorted and without even bothering to check the pockets, and a day or two later a basket would be left outside my bedroom door. They weren’t ironed or folded like they had once been, but I didn’t complain. But today Gillian wouldn’t be doing it. It took me twenty minutes to find the washing powder and the fabric softener, work out where it went, and how to start the damn machine, but I did it.
Grabbing some garbage bags from the kitchen cupboards I went back to my room and for the first time I realized what I’d done. I thought I was only punishing Gillian. I hadn’t stopped to think about the kids. My stomach lurched. The cupboards were empty. And it wasn’t just food missing—it was everything. There were a few mismatched glasses, no teaspoons and a few plastic plates. Foil was stacked in piles. It’d obviously been used to wrap something, washed off, and hoarded to be used again. A sad looking loaf of bread with the beginnings of mould dotting the end was the extent of the fresh food, and only three tins of generic spaghetti sat lonely on the shelf
I couldn’t stop it. I had just enough time to put my head in the kitchen sink before I hurled. For a full five minutes I threw up everything in my stomach. When nothing was left, I stood there dry retching until my eyes ached. Completely exhausted, I pushed through the pain. Grabbing the garbage bags I’d come looking for, I slammed the pantry door closed and rushed back into my bedroom, where there were no surprises.
An hour later all the bottles and pizza boxes and clothes were gone. Both the recycling and the rubbish bin were overflowing, but the mess was gone. The curtains were open, and for the first time in over twelve months my bedroom floor saw sunlight.
When I was finally finished with the rubbish I kept going. I was on a mission and nothing was going to slow me down. Soon the kitchen cabinets were once again stocked with all the things I’d had stashed away. The dinner set was returned and placed in the cupboard, the crystal wine glasses were rinsed and lined up neatly, and the cutlery drawer was refilled. Now there were not only teaspoons but dessert spoons as well. But it still wasn’t enough. The reasoning behind my efforts were simple and selfish— I was worried. Really fucking worried. If Gillian told someone what had happened and they came looking, I was fucked. I knew I’d fucked up and all the shit I’d done over the past couple of years couldn’t be forgiven in a day, but I needed Gillian to stay. As much as I told her to get out and did everything in my power to drive her out, I needed her to stay. She had to give me the chance to make it right.
Before stopping to think about it, I jumped in the car and took off to the nearest supermarket. I was going to stock the fridge and pantry, something I hadn’t done since Gillian moved in. Once she moved it was one of those chores that somehow just became hers. The difference was that for years she’d had access to the joint bank account and paid for the groceries from there. But then I’d cut that off too.
I grabbed a trolley and began pushing it down the aisle. I was halfway down when I realized he had no idea what the hell I was supposed to buy. What did kids eat? What were they allergic to? I had absolutely no idea. But then I stumbled across one. A short frumpy woman in front of me had a long list and was throwing items into her own trolley with wild abandon. So, I started following her, copying what she bought. It seemed easy. Muesli bars, juice boxes, single serving packets of chips, the list went on and on. Then my brain kicked in. I remembered what Mum used to pack in my lunch box when I was a kid, surely that’d be good enough.
By the time the sun was setting, I was rat shit exhausted. I didn’t know who to expect to come storming through the front door or when. Mum. Gillian’s girlfriends. The police. The Department of Community Services. Nothing I did seemed to shake the memory of the defeated look on Gillian’s face as she heard the snap in her wrist. The pained, terrified expression in her eyes.
But no one came.
I sat there in the silence as night fell and waited. The children never came home. Not even a text to say where they were. And no sign of Gillian. Part of me was beginning to wonder if she’d actually listened when I’d told her to fuck off. Maybe I should try and track her down just to make sure she was okay, but instead I did nothing.
Instead, I just fell asleep on the couch and waited for them to come home. I needn’t have bothered. They didn’t come home that night.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
GILLIAN
Usually Heidi was the most cautious driver I knew, but today she drove like a possessed woman as she flew through traffic, even running a red light despite my desperate pleas to slow down. “I have to get you to hospital,” she stated repetitively.
/> “No!” I said as forcefully as I could muster, which in all honesty was nothing more than a meek little whimper.
“Gillian, just shut up complaining. You’re going to the hospital and I don’t want to hear any more about it. That wrist needs someone to look at it,” she snapped leaving no room to argue.
I glanced down at my wrist cradled in my lap and tried to wiggle my fingers. Frustratingly, they wouldn’t budge. I knew it was broken and it needed attention, but I didn’t want to admit it. Then I’d have to admit that I had been stupid enough to go up against Joel thinking that I had a chance. Another silent tear trickled down my cheek. I thought I’d gotten away with it, but Heidi caught me looking miserable and reached over and patted my thigh reassuringly. She touched me as if I was glass, so fragile that even the tiniest amount of pressure would break me. And in that moment, it just may have.
“How’d you get to my place so fast? I had barely been in the house five minutes,” I asked, trying to think things through logically.
“Are you kidding me? You send me a cryptic text me saying you are going home and if I haven’t heard from you in an hour to call the police. Like hell I’m waiting an hour! And I’m glad I didn’t. He could’ve killed you and buried your body in an hour.”
I felt myself recoil on the seat beside her. Even though I knew she was right, I didn’t want to acknowledge the fact. Just the thought of Joel burying my body was enough to freak me out.
“Oh,” was all I managed to offer.
“Yeah, oh. I told my boss it was an emergency and raced over. You’re paying any speeding fine and red-light cameras that I got done by today, just so you know.” Heidi laughed, trying to lighten the situation.
Up ahead I could see the hospital and out of nowhere, I was struggling to breathe. I’d already learnt the hard way that hospitals ask questions. And when you don’t answer, they just send specialist after specialist down to keep asking the same questions in different ways. It was almost like that was their fee for treating me. It’d only cost me the truth. The problem was though, they had no idea what the price of that truth was.
“Gillian?” Heidi looked over at me, worried. “You okay?”
“No.”
“You can do this. You need to do this. You need to show them your wrist and your neck and your knee and anything else that you haven’t even told me about. I want you thoroughly checked out. We’re not leaving here until I’m satisfied you’re okay to go home.”
“You’re staying?”
“Of course.” Heidi smiled, pulling into a drop off park behind an ambulance that was being restocked by the ambulance officer. “I’m not going to leave you here. You go in. I’ll just go park and then I’ll be right behind you. I promise.”
“Okay,” I agreed, the throbbing pain in my body barely tolerable. I watched as Heidi climbed out, ran around, and opened my door for me before helping me out of the car. I was still wobbly on my feet, barely able to hold myself up.
“Excuse me?” Heidi called out. “Would you be able to help me get my friend inside?” she asked, flashing him her best smile.
“I’ll grab a wheelchair,” he agreed, darting inside the automatic doors.
“Are you flirting with him?” I asked, forcing myself to focus on anything but what was going on. “At least that’s one good thing to come out of all this mess.” Heidi giggled like the teenage girl I remembered. He reappeared and together Heidi and Nathan, the ambo, lowered me into the chair.
“I’ll take her through if you like? That way you can move your car,” he offered helpfully, flashing a million-dollar smile.
“Thanks,” Heidi said. “Gillian, I’m right behind you. And please tell them the truth,” she begged.
I didn’t intend to be alarmed by her comment; I should’ve seen it coming. Joel’d hurt me so many times that no one was keeping count any more. But it’d never been this severe. I knew Heidi wanted me to tell someone, anyone, what he’d done, but I couldn’t. There were things that Heidi didn’t understand. Things she could never comprehend.
Without another word, Nathan pushed me through the crowded waiting room and straight into an examination room. “Aren’t I jumping the queue?” I asked. I didn’t want to put anyone out; I wasn’t exactly dying.
“Yes and no. If you are brought in by ambulance you go straight in, so no, you aren’t jumping the queue because I brought you in. But yes, you did because you didn’t technically arrive at the hospital in an ambulance. But based on the injuries I can see, the ones around your neck have me worried, so I want you checked out as soon as possible,” Nathan explained as his beeper interrupted him. “Sorry, I have to run. You’ll be safe here and the doctor is on his way. Oh, here she is now. You’re safe, Gillian. He can’t get to you in here,” he repeated knowingly.
I hated myself. After spending only two minutes with me, Nathan had already picked up on the panic and shame that consumed me. And what’s worse was, he could see the truth. I don’t know if it was the fear in my eyes or something as simple as he’d seen the same thing a million times before, but the fact that he knew the truth without me saying a word, scared me beyond belief.
A moment later Nathan had vanished leaving me with the tiniest lady I’d ever seen. She took one look at the way I was nursing my wrist and sent me straight to x-ray. With my working arm I rubbed at my knee. Even those few steps where I’d tried to put weight on it had been enough to exacerbate the pain.
The young orderly pushing me along in the wheelchair saw me rubbing at my knee. “Do we need to check that too?” he asked, pointing at my knee.
“I’m sure it will be fine. Just a bit tender,” I lied. I had no idea how bad it was and I didn’t want to look. I was afraid that it would be worse than the pain and I didn’t have time to deal with a leg problem as well as a broken wrist.
Seeing the desperation on my face, he said nothing more to me, but as I was moved into the x- ray the lady operating the machines came out from behind her little protective bubble wearing her iron vest and told me that they would be checking my wrist and my leg. I didn’t have the energy to argue. They could check it. At least then we’d know.
Two hours later I was upstairs lying in my private room, Heidi sitting in the chair beside me. I was waiting for surgery. My wrist, as expected, was broken badly, and would require some pins to hold it together. My knee was also pretty badly damaged. It wasn’t broken, but the tendons had been hyper-extended and my knee cap had a tiny piece of bone that had chipped off and was now floating about somewhere in my leg.
“Don’t worry about the kids. I’ve already spoken to Adele, and she’s going to pick them up from school and take them back to her place tonight,” Heidi explained.
“You didn’t tell her, did you?” I asked, panicked.
“No, I gave her no details. I didn’t need to.”
I pressed the button the nurse had thrust into my hand before she’d left. It was my pain killer button. All I had to do was press it and instantly a dose of morphine would flow into my arm, then within minutes I’d be blissfully unaware of everything.
“Joel did this, didn’t he?” Heidi asked nervously. I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. Instead, I rolled away from her and closed my eyes. Suddenly I was so tired I couldn’t even keep my head up.
“Gillian, enough is enough. Did Joel do this?” she repeated.
I stared at her blankly. Heidi just stared back at me, waiting for an answer. She deserved one. She’d come running without me even asking. Heidi was the one to pick me up off the driveway and race me to the hospital. I owed her the truth, if for no other reason than to tell someone, someone who wouldn’t judge me. Eventually, I looked into Heidi’s searching eyes and saw the loving, caring, kind, and compassionate friend I’d always known.
“Yes,” was all I could offer before the tears came for both of us.
Time passed and nothing was said. Then Heidi’s phone beeped, another text had come through. “Rhiannon’s on her way,” was all Heidi off
ered. I raised a quizzical eyebrow at her. “Yes, I rang her. I panicked and called. But don’t worry, it’s just Rhiannon. She loves you and she won’t tell anyone. But right now, we both need her. It’s not just about you, Gillian. I need her right now as much as you do!”
I knew she was one hundred and ten percent right. If I could trust anyone with my secrets it was Rhiannon. But right now, I didn’t want to say anything. I just wanted to be left alone.
I looked at Heidi. She’d been amazing. But right now, dosed high on morphine and embarrassment, I needed some sleep. “Heidi, I love you,” I began feeling guilty, knowing what I was about to say. “But would you mind giving me some time? I’m so tired. I just need to get some rest.”
With a curious look, Heidi gathered up her handbag. “Okay, Gillian. I’m going to go down to the coffee shop to get some lunch. Want anything?” she offered.
I wasn’t sure if she believed me or she just didn’t want to argue, but Heidi had come through when I needed her the most. “I’m fine. But thank you. For everything. I’m just so tired I just need to get some sleep then I’ll be back to my normal self,” I lied. It’d take a lot more than a nap to get things back to normal, but now wasn’t the time to talk about how full of bullshit I was.
“I’ll come back in a bit. Try to get some rest and don’t think about it. We’ll deal with everything else later. One thing at a time. Let’s get you back on your feet first.” Heidi smiled, leaning over and kissing me lightly on the forehead before disappearing out the door.
I was glad for the peace and quiet. I needed time to be on my own and just mull things over. How was I going to get out of this one? How could I possibly have been so stupid to go to the house and provoke him? I had this coming. I deserved what I got. There was no point feeling sorry for myself. And I didn’t want anyone else feeling sorry for me either. But despite feeling very sorry for myself I managed to drift off into a dreamless sleep.
Broken Dreams Boxset Page 47