by Anita Waller
‘Yes, please. And bring the wine, it’s in the fridge.’
Heather entered waving the bottle of wine and wearing pink pyjamas.
Claudia laughed. ‘God, we’re so predictable.’ Her own pyjamas were tartan. ‘Comfort first, glamour second. Where’s Owen?’
Heather opened the wine and poured them a glass each. ‘You’ll only need one guess. So. Let’s see the properties then. I’ve been looking forward to this all day – how sad is that?’
Claudia held up her hand. ‘Tell me about last night, first. I was worried about you. I was in the back garden, just having five minutes before going to bed. Your argument was pretty vocal, and then I heard a glass smash. It’s why I texted you. What happened?’
‘It was about money. The bank hasn’t made our mortgage payment. Not enough funds, they said. When I checked, it would have taken us £20 overdrawn. He took £40 out the day before. If he hadn’t done that, everything would have been fine. I tried to talk sensibly, but because it was a serious matter and he was drunk again – and probably feeling guilty – he turned nasty.’
Heather lifted her head and showed Claudia the red mark on her neck. ‘He tried to strangle me, except he didn’t really. I only had to push him off. He wasn’t capable of killing anybody. But just to show him I was, I smashed a glass and held the jagged end up to his neck. God, I was so close, Claud, so close.’
‘Oh my God! Heather, he needs help!’
‘He’s gone for it – to the Blue Bell.’
‘Shit… you want to stay here?’
‘No, he’ll only show off and come to find me. It’s ultimatum time though. Tomorrow, when we’re both sober, and before he starts drinking again, I’m going to spell it out for him. No alcohol, or I go. There’s no cutting down on the drink clause in that, either. It’s total abstinence and attending an AA group. I’ve always managed to pay bills before, but the mortgage… that’s a whole new ball game.’
Claudia nodded. ‘Certainly is. You want to borrow some money?’
‘No, I’ll be fine. If I’d realised he’d virtually cleared out the account, I would have transferred some – I’ve savings from my wages he isn’t aware of. If he was, he’d have them as well. We’re going into the bank tomorrow to talk to them. He doesn’t know this yet. I’m going to tell them the situation and set up an account just for him, and get him off the joint account, the one we pay the bills with. I know he’ll be embarrassed, feel he’s being shown up, but I don’t care. Again, this is an ultimatum. And the mortgage payment will be there when they re-apply for it, I’ll just have to accept the bank charges. If he can’t agree, or wants to prevaricate about the accounts, then I’m gone. I can’t live like this. I’ll walk away from everything, Claud, leave him with the house that will be repossessed because he’s spent all his money on booze, and I won’t care.’
They sipped at their Prosecco and stared at the fire. The flames flickering around the logs were magnetic, soothing. The music playing softly in the background was soporific, and both women immersed themselves in their thoughts.
Claudia roused herself. ‘So, these are the properties I printed off yesterday. Have a look and see what you think.’
Heather picked them up and initially did a quick scan through them. Then she looked closely.
‘You need to go and see them. Want some company?’
Claudia nodded. ‘When is it your day off?’
‘Friday, but I’ve also got Saturday off this week. Did a swap to suit Glenys, she needed next Saturday off.’
‘Okay,’ Claudia said, ‘I’ll book a day’s holiday for Friday, and we’ll go and check them out. If any look okay from the outside, we’ll see about getting keys. And we’ll go and have something to eat, be proper ladies what lunch, yes?’
‘That sounds so good. I never seem to do anything other than worry these days, but I’m taking control now. And if Owen doesn’t agree to all my demands, we’ll be looking at the three-bedroomed properties. We can afford those rents between us.’ For the first time in weeks, both women began to feel optimistic.
Claudia laughed. ‘I almost hope he doesn’t agree. Have you stopped loving him?’
There was a moment of hesitation. ‘I don’t honestly know. I don’t want to live with him any longer, because it’s getting to the stage where its unbearable, but I suppose some small part of me will always love the man I married. I was crazy for him at the beginning, but we’ve both changed and it’s simply not working. If the drinking stopped, I believe we could get back what we had, but there’s no chance if he doesn’t follow my rules. No chance at all. Maybe if we’d had children it would have been different…’
Claudia stared into the fire, knowing she could feel no love for James. One bruise too many had killed it. She was thankful her friend hadn’t had to suffer violence; with alcohol the scenario could have been so different.
‘Look, let’s leave it like this. There are two three-bedroomed properties. I don’t think it’s fair that I take up a family-size property, so although I like both of them, I wouldn’t consider them, with hindsight. The two-bedroomed are ideal, if it’s just for me. So, we have time for decisions after your day with Owen tomorrow. If things don’t work out, we’ll see about getting keys, or meeting up with the estate agents, for the three-bed houses. Plan, pal?’ She held up her hand for a high five, and Heather responded.
‘Plan, pal,’ she said. There was a pause. ‘When did the violence start, Claud?’
Claudia gave a slight laugh. ‘Long before anyone was aware of it. It started that Christmas when we lost Ella. He hit me for the first time on Christmas Day. I hid it for ages – you noticed the bruises before anyone else. But it stops now. He’s never forced me to have sex before, and that made me feel dirty. I don’t love him, I don’t want him, and there’s nothing keeping me here now Harry and Zoe have gone. Whatever you decide after tomorrow, I’m leaving anyway.’
Heather didn’t say anything; she was focused on the properties. ‘I like this one.’ She handed a sheet back to Claudia. ‘It’s above a shop, which means no garden, and it’s massive, three huge bedrooms. There’s only one entrance door, and that’s at the bottom of the stairs leading from the street up to the flat. In other words, it’s secure. He’s not going to take kindly to you leaving, you know. He’s going to hunt you down. You need to feel safe as well as be safe.’
Chapter 4
Owen had a headache. And right at that moment he couldn’t have cared less about his bloody wife. The nasty cow.
‘Mr and Mrs Gower, I’m sorry to have kept you waiting.’ Katherine Jones smiled at her first appointment of the day, and hoped it was going to be an easy chat. She was feeling just a little fragile after the girly night the previous evening.
She sat opposite them and switched on her computer. ‘Now, how can we help you?’
Heather leaned forward in her chair. ‘My husband is an alcoholic, and we’re here to sort out our banking so that he can’t take any more money out of our joint account.’
Katherine sighed. This sort of conversation usually happened on Mondays after errant husbands had spent everything on the weekend bender, not Wednesdays. And it certainly wasn’t going to help her own hangover that had just escalated.
‘Do you have your account number?’ she asked, keeping the smile fixed firmly. Mr Gower was looking extremely unhappy, and Mrs Gower had the most determined expression Katherine had ever seen on anyone. ‘Perhaps you’d both like to tell me what you want to change.’
And Heather began to talk.
Owen Gower was a very unhappy man. For a start, the park bench was cold underneath his bum, and secondly, he had until five to come up with answers. He had felt a little bit rattled when he had rung his boss earlier to explain he needed a day off to take care of some personal business, and his boss had laughed and mentioned hangover in his remarks. Was that how everyone saw him?
He sat forward on the bench and rested his head in his hands. He could see the roundness of his
stomach. Shit! When had that happened? He quickly sat upright, and breathed in.
It seemed his good times had been well and truly cancelled. He had an allowance in his own account of £100 every month, and their joint account required two signatures to withdraw money in branch, with no debit card in his name. That nice lass, Katherine, had obligingly cancelled the bank charges on the recent mortgage hiccup, and had made the instructions on the account fixed for five years.
He couldn’t blame Heather for being honest at the bank, she needed their help, but he’d felt about a metre tall when they’d finally exited.
Her suggestion of going for a coffee before she had to leave him to go to work had seemed a promising idea, even if he would have preferred a pint. Once in there, things had rapidly become worse.
Owen took out the piece of paper she had handed over in the coffee bar. It showed the AA headquarters in Sheffield. She had spoken very clearly and slowly when she had said no AA, no marriage. And she wanted proof by the time she got home from work that he had made arrangements to attend a meeting.
He took out his wallet, checked how much was in it, and stood. He’d get the proof later. For now, he needed a drink.
Heather was physically at work but mentally nowhere near it. She had seen from Owen’s face in the coffee shop that he wouldn’t be able to accept her terms; and it was the AA meetings that he couldn’t handle.
She would give him the benefit of the doubt until she arrived home, trust him to do the right thing, and they would take it from there. Nobody would ever willingly give up on twenty-odd years of marriage, and if it could be salvaged, that would be for the best.
If it couldn’t…
Claudia went out in her lunch break and drove to the flat that had caught Heather’s eye. Claudia knew her friend had been correct when she had spoken of her needing to feel safe; James would track her down, she just had to make sure he couldn’t physically get to her.
The flat extended over two shop fronts. It had large windows and was clearly empty; there were no blinds or curtains to be seen. The shops underneath were a bakery and a charity shop, and the area, at first glance, appeared to be a good one.
She walked into the bakery, with the somewhat quirky name of Breadline on the signage, thinking to buy a sandwich for her lunch; there was a small queue, and she guessed the sandwiches must be pretty special. She waited patiently.
Placing an order for a turkey salad and a huge vanilla slice, she handed over money that to her didn’t seem exorbitant.
‘Do you know anything about the flat upstairs?’ she asked, while the attractive dark-haired lady made up the sandwich.
‘I certainly do,’ she answered with a smile. ‘I have a key for viewings, but I can’t take you up there now, it’s my busiest time.’
‘What time do you open?’
‘Nine on the dot, eight on Saturdays.’ She handed over the sandwich and placed a vanilla slice in a small cardboard tray.
‘So, if I came eight thirty on Friday morning, would that be any good?’ Claudia asked, popping the sandwich into her bag.
‘That would be fine. I won’t be in the shop – if I’m in, people will expect to be served,’ she said with a laugh. ‘I’ll wait in the flat. That white door at the side of the shop is the flat’s entrance. I’ll leave it open for you. My name’s Michelle, Michelle Baldwin.’ She handed over the vanilla slice.
Claudia thanked her, and assured her that she would definitely be there, and would be accompanied by a friend.
She got back in the car and sat for a moment looking up at the flat. Heather was right, it would be ideal. Claudia hoped the interior was just as good as her mind was imagining. From the outside the windows looked clean, the entrance door was new. She didn’t want to wait until Friday; she felt like a child on her first day at school, excited for what was to happen next in her life.
She drove back to work, hoping she would be able to chat with Heather later, find out what had happened at the bank and the AA meetings. She prayed Heather would get what she wanted from taking this uncompromising stance with Owen; she doubted it. Could Owen really stop drinking at a minute’s notice?
Heather inserted her key in the front door and pushed it open. The house felt empty. No heating on, despite the coolness of the day, and no Owen waiting to tell her everything was going to be all right.
She put her bag on the kitchen table and switched on the heating. She was moving mechanically. Crossing to the freezer she took out fish for dinner, then began to peel potatoes. Decisions, decisions; chips or mash?
Her brain told her chips; they would be quicker to make once Owen turned up. She felt tears in her eyes. She wanted to believe he was at the AA place, discussing what happens next. What she really thought was that he was in a pub somewhere, fondly imagining he could talk his wife around.
She slammed the small knife down onto the wooden chopping board and dropped her head. Her tears were flowing, and she grabbed a piece of kitchen roll, dabbing at her face as she dried them.
She heard Owen’s key as he attempted to line it up with the keyhole and knew.
She waited until he came into the kitchen and turned to him.
‘I thought you would have been home.’ Her tone was stiff, unyielding.
He grinned. ‘I got chatting to Eric, you know what it’s like.’
‘I do. Where were you when you did this chatting?’
‘In…’ He hesitated. ‘In the Blue Bell. But it’s the last time. Definitely the last time.’
‘You have appointments for AA meetings?’
‘Not yet. I’ll sort it.’
‘When?’
‘Tomorrow.’
‘You don’t seem to understand the concept of ultimatums, Owen. When I said we were over if you hadn’t sorted yourself out with an AA meeting by five, I meant by five. Not by tomorrow, maybe. And when I said you’d had your last drink, I didn’t mean your last drink except for what you could neck this afternoon. And now I’m going to tell you something that you’d better understand. I am going. I’ll pack tonight, and I’ll be gone tomorrow.’
He moved towards her, holding out his arms. She pushed him away and headed upstairs. Time to sort out suitcases. Time to talk to Claudia. Time for a new life.
Heather sat on the bed and took her phone out of her pocket.
Make the search three-bedroomed x
Claudia heard the text come through as she was driving home. She’d stayed a little later at work, chatting on the phone to the newly returned Tony. He was comfortably at home being waited on by his family. The collection box had been emptied once and was slowly filling up as different drivers returned to base.
She pulled onto her road feeling insanely happy that James was on his second night out. If everything looked to be okay on Friday, she could quite easily be in her new home by Monday. Before getting out of her car, she took the phone out of her bag.
She felt sick for her best friend; the text told her that Owen had been stupid and not believed the ‘do it or else’ seriousness of the situation he had quite deliberately put himself in over the last few years.
With a sigh that seemed to come from her toes, Claudia got out of the car and headed inside. It felt cooler that night, and she lit the fire before doing anything else. The phone in the hall rung, and she closed the doors of the wood burner and went to answer it.
‘Mrs Bell?’
‘Yes.’ She was wary. Too many PPI companies appeared to be able to get names with ease.
‘Hi, Mrs Bell. It’s the Hallamshire Hospital. Can I just check a couple of details with you, please?’
Claudia went on to confirm date of birth and her address, and then was surprised to hear that a cancellation meant she could have an appointment for Friday.
‘Thank you,’ she said fervently. ‘It’s become really sore. It’s right where my bra strap rests.’
‘It’s a very quick operation, done with local anaesthetic. Takes about a quarter of an hour at the most. I�
��ll confirm by text, because you’ll be here before a letter reaches you. I’ll book you in for two o’clock.’
The confirmation text came through as she was replacing the receiver. Things seemed to be working out well after her horrible weekend, and maybe Heather could go with her, after they had viewed the flat and had some lunch.
She was surprised when, only minutes later, Heather tapped on the back door.
‘You have a spare bed, pal?’
‘Always.’ Claudia held open her arms. ‘Come here.’
Heather laid her head on Claudia’s shoulder; the tears came again.
Eventually they separated, and Heather sat at the kitchen table. She reached across and removed an orange from the fruit bowl. She rolled it backwards and forwards, and Claudia watched her with some amusement.
‘Don’t smash that down. It’s not Owen’s head. You ready to talk? And do you want a drink? Tea? Coffee? Wine? Or maybe champagne?’ she said with a smile.
‘I’ll just have a tea, thanks. I need soothing, not winding up, I think.’
Claudia made the drinks without speaking, then handed a mug of tea to her friend.
‘He didn’t stick to the rules, then?’
‘Not at all. I think he thought it was enough having the bank take away his booze money, leaving him with what he sees as peanuts. I went back to work saying I’d be home just after five, and I expected him to have sorted out the AA meeting he was going to attend.’ She paused and looked down into the mug. ‘He went to the pub. Had a lovely afternoon drinking and chatting with Eric.’
‘You’ve left?’
‘I’ve told him I’m sleeping here tonight. I might stab him if I stay there. Tomorrow, after he’s gone to work, I’ll go and get my stuff. I’ll stay in a Travelodge until we find a place. I don’t want to stay here. He’ll eventually get around to blaming you for me leaving him, and that’s not fair.’
‘I think you’re right. If you stay here and he makes a nuisance of himself, it’ll wind James up and he might just click on I’m going as well. He won’t be quite so accepting as Owen. James will use his fists.’