‘Hello, Effie.’
She swallowed as Oliver’s voice bounced off the walls around them, and closed her eyes. It wasn’t him. It couldn’t be. He didn’t know she was staying at Lou’s. They hadn’t spoken since she was in Ibiza – how could he?
‘You’ve ignored me for weeks. The least you can do is say hello.’
Her legs shook as she slowly stood up, trying to ignore the way the entire world had shifted right beneath her feet.
‘Oliver.’
‘Hey, baby.’ He smiled, and she just managed to hold back the wince at the sound of him calling her baby. She wasn’t his baby, and she hadn’t been for a long time.
‘What are you doing here?’
‘I came to see you, obviously. One of your neighbours let me in as he was leaving.’ He held her purse out to her, and she stared at it without moving. ‘Take it.’
Her hand shook as she took it from him.
‘I had to see you.’
His blue eyes were as cold as ice as he looked her up and down, and a wave of revulsion rocked her to the core. How had she never noticed the way they stared so intently before?
‘I—’
‘Shh.’ He put a finger to her lips, and Effie closed her eyes, shuddering. After the sweetness of Smith on her lips, Oliver’s touch made her feel sick to her stomach. ‘You don’t have to say anything.’
He dropped his finger, and she stood perfectly still, barely breathing.
‘I thought we could talk.’
‘I can’t. I’m on my way out. Lou’s just behind me.’
Oliver tilted his head, looking at the door behind her and raised his eyebrow. ‘No, she isn’t. If I’ve understood correctly, she should have left work by now, and I think she’ll be on her way to Old Street to meet you.’
Effie opened her mouth to reply, but nothing came out. How the hell did he know that?
‘Facebook.’ He shrugged with a smile. ‘I’ve had to keep tabs on you somehow.’
‘But—’ She shook her head, confused. She’d blocked him on Facebook when she was in Ibiza.
‘Lou really should check her privacy settings.’
The air rushed out of her, and she looked down at the floor. Lou had updated her status about their plans, and Effie had seen it just before she’d left the office. Even though there was no way Oliver could have seen her name tagged in it, Lou had referred to her bestie. It wouldn’t have been hard to put two and two together.
‘I had to make sure you were alright, for one thing,’ he continued, his voice oddly neutral and lacking any emotion whatsoever. ‘I mean, you haven’t contacted me at all, and at first I was worried. When you said you wanted a divorce, I thought you were having some kind of mental breakdown, but then I drove by your office last week, and lo and behold, there you were. Looking perfectly fine and not so mentally confused after all. Which made absolutely no sense, seeing as you didn’t come home.’
‘I told you I wouldn’t.’ She kept her eyes on his feet, not wanting to look back at his face. ‘I told you I want a divorce.’
He gave a wry laugh. ‘I thought you were joking. I know you don’t seriously think you could go up against me.’
So what did he want then? Why was he standing outside Lou’s flat, blocking the stairs? There was nothing he could ever do or say that would make her go back. Not for anything in the world.
‘If you think I’m divorcing you so you can shack up with that little shit, you’d better think again.’
Her head snapped up as his voice hardened, and she looked at him as he screwed his face up.
‘I’ve seen you two together.’
He made a noise somewhere between a groan and a sob, but it was so full of jealousy and anger that Effie instinctively stepped back, her hand finding the waist-high lock on Lou’s door.
‘You’re my wife. How could you do this to us? To me?’
She heard the throb of her pulse in her ears as Oliver shook his head. The vein in the middle of his forehead bulged angrily, and she quickly looked down at the floor. Her keys were right by his feet. The last time she’d seen that vein, he’d kicked her to pieces in their hallway. Her breath quickened as she looked past him to the stairs his body was blocking. Could she slip by him, if she were quick enough? Lou’s flat was on the first floor. If she could make it downstairs, she could get help.
‘Look.’ He turned his palms face down and took a deep breath before slowly letting it out again. ‘I get it. You were angry with me because I shouted at you in the car, but I forgive you.’
Forgave her? For what? She hadn’t done anything wrong.
‘Let’s just put this all behind us and go home. I’ll even overlook this thing with you and Smith.’
Effie shook her head, looking past him at the stairs again. She needed to get away from him. He was delusional, and despite his efforts, she could hear the fury in his voice. It was exactly the same as it had been in the car after Smith’s barbecue. She’d picked up on it early enough to get away from him then, and she had to do the same now.
‘I’m not going to let you leave here without me.’ His voice was clear, and with his cut-glass accent, the threat sounded even more menacing. He stared right at her. ‘Understand?’
The sound of the letterbox for the communal door downstairs opening and closing distracted him for a second, and he turned his head to the stairwell.
Go! Now!
Effie bolted, trying to knock him out of the way as she made for the stairs, but he caught her wrist, just as she was about to put her foot on the first step.
‘Let go of me.’ She tried to shake him off, but his grip was vice tight, and he yanked her back, pushing her up against the wall.
Her heart rammed in her chest as she panted, with his face merely inches away, towering above her. His eyes had gone from being ice cold to blazing with anger, so hard they’d almost turned a darker shade of blue. His forearm pressed against her chest, pinning her to the wall.
‘Olly, don’t!’ she cried, trying to wriggle free, but his grip was so strong she could barely move. He was pressed up against her so tight that she couldn’t even lift her leg to knee him in the balls – the most basic self-protection manoeuvre there was.
‘Why are you being so difficult?’ he asked, shaking his head as if they were having a normal conversation. ‘Can’t you see how much I’ve missed you?’
Effie trembled, racked with fear as he buried his face into her hair and sniffed at her. She should scream. He’d said a neighbour had let him in – someone would hear her. But before she had a chance to, Oliver crushed his lips against hers. She tried to push him away, to get him off her, but his weight was too strong, and he didn’t budge.
She fought against him as he used his free hand to hold her chin in place, and she sobbed, trying to keep her mouth closed. Her stomach quivered as he pushed his rough lips against hers even harder than before, and he let out a moan.
Oh, god. No. Please don’t.
His moan sounded wrong. It sounded like there was an edge of sexuality to it, and she sobbed even harder as she realised that he wasn’t going to stop. She pushed her hands into his stomach, trying to drive him away. It was like pushing against a brick wall, but she had to do something – anything – to get him off her. He barely flinched as he continued trying to get her to kiss him back. Instinctively, she opened her mouth and bit down on his lip, feeling the flesh between her teeth as the tangy, iron-like taste of blood filled her mouth. Oliver yelped and dropped his arms, his hands flying straight to his mouth.
‘You fucking bitch. You bit me!’
He’d barely finished the sentence before Effie shot down the stairs. Tears streamed down her face, stinging her eyes and blurring her vision. She could hardly see as she gripped the handrail, taking the stairs two or three steps at a time, stumbling as she went. Her breath was ragged,
her heart pounding, and she could hear Oliver’s footsteps, heavy and even as he followed after her. As she reached the bottom of the stairs, she saw the communal door at the end of the hallway. She just needed to get outside, and she’d be fine. There was no way he’d risk anything out in public.
She turned to look behind her and tripped over a bicycle leaning against the wall. She scrambled forward, pulling herself up off the floor, but Oliver grabbed the back of her neck and fell on top of her. The air whooshed out of her in one breath with the impact, and it didn’t come back as she tried to wriggle her way from underneath him. He grabbed her shoulder and turned her over before sitting right on her stomach with his hands gripping her neck.
Effie snatched a breath, but his weight was too heavy, and his thumbs were pressed too tightly into the hollow of her throat.
‘You fucking bitch. I should have turned the car around and finished the job.’
Spittle flew from his mouth, hitting her face, and her eyes widened. It had been Oliver who had run her over. Terror filled her as she thrashed beneath him, trying to scream, but nothing came out of her mouth as he dug his thumbs in harder. She stretched her arms out, trying to claw at his face, but she couldn’t reach.
Oliver looked down at her with a scornful smile, as if her efforts to free herself were amusing him. ‘You can’t just decide you don’t love someone and run off, Effie. We made vows. What was I supposed to do – just let you run away from me? How many times do I have to teach you that actions have consequences? ’
Her heart beat loudly in her ears, tears ran from her eyes and she cried silently, panicking at the pressure building in her head and lungs.
Her mum, Mickey, Lou – she saw their faces and struggled even harder, trying to reach Oliver’s face with her hands. She couldn’t let him take them away from her, but her vision was blurring and the edges of her sight were tinged with red. The floor was cold underneath her, and she was suddenly thrown back to that night, lying on the wet tarmac, looking at the tail lights of the car that had run her over. Only now, she knew it was Oliver behind the wheel – the man who’d sworn to protect her in front of family and friends. He was going to kill her. He’d tried once and failed, and now he was going to try again, and there was nothing and nobody to stop him.
Smith’s face filled her head. She saw his beautiful eyes and heard his hearty laugh. Smith, who loved her. She’d only just got him back. The pressure in her head reached tipping point, and she realised that she hadn’t told him she loved him back.
I love you, Smith. I love you, I love you, I love you.
If she could’ve said it out loud, she would have, just so that Oliver would know he hadn’t won. That she wasn’t his and never had been or would be, whether she was alive or not.
‘Effie?’
She heard Smith’s voice as her arms dropped to the floor. Despite Oliver’s thumbs pressing into her throat, a small smile flickered at her mouth. Nobody could ever say her name like him, and if she had to die, she wanted the memory of his voice to be the last thing she heard. She closed her eyes. She had no more fight left in her, and her lungs couldn’t take any more. She stopped resisting, and the pressure disappeared.
Was she dead?
She gasped, drawing in a breath so sharp it made her gag. She turned on her side, doubled over as her forehead pressed to the floor while she coughed and dragged in as much air as she could in turns. She was alive. Her throat was burning, and her brain felt like it was spinning in her head, but she was alive. She pulled herself up onto her elbows, shaking as she looked up, trying to work out what had happened, just in time to see Smith tussling with Oliver on the floor by the stairs.
‘Smith?’ she choked out. He was there. She hadn’t imagined it.
He didn’t hear her tiny voice as he punched Oliver in the face, right in the jaw. The sound of bone connecting with bone echoed loudly, and Effie tried to drag herself forward, but her body was too heavy and her ribs ached.
‘Smith, don’t.’
He landed three more blows to Oliver’s face as the communal door opened, and a young woman Effie recognised as one of the upstairs neighbours walked in. The woman stopped mid-stride, her face aghast at what was happening.
‘Call the police,’ Smith shouted, pinning Oliver down to the ground. ‘Now!’
The woman nodded and scrambled through her bag as Effie hauled herself up to sit against the wall. She coughed again, wincing at the raw burn in her throat as the neighbour frantically jabbed at her mobile phone and Smith turned his head.
‘Effie.’ He leapt up, leaving Oliver sprawled on the floor, and shot over to her, almost tripping over his feet. He fell to the floor next to her and pulled her into his arms, kissing her face over and over again. He looked at her, his eyes darting across her face and his hands in her hair as he checked her over. ‘I thought you were . . . Thank god, you’re okay.’
He pulled her back into him, his strong arms holding her close as she sobbed.
‘You came back.’
‘Of course I came back.’ He squeezed her and kissed the top of her head. ‘I wasn’t going to miss being with you just to take my bike back.’
The adrenalin pulsing through Effie’s body fought its way up through her throat in a shaky, misplaced laugh. If he’d carried on home, she would have died. The young woman looked at them, with the phone still pressed to her ear, as she gave the police their address, and when she hung up, she looked from Smith and Effie to Oliver, lying on the ground, and back again.
‘They’re on the way,’ she said as Oliver turned on his side to hawk and spit. ‘I’ll get some water.’
She raced up the stairs, and Oliver sat up, holding his nose. His light blue shirt was stained with blood.
‘If you even so much as think about moving . . .’ Smith snarled at him.
‘Smith, don’t,’ Effie said, squeezing his arm.
‘He tried to kill you.’
‘I know, but you can’t go at him again. I mean it, Smith. Please.’ Effie’s voice trembled.
Oliver wasn’t going anywhere, not with Smith blocking the way out. The police were on their way, but she knew that before the night was out, he’d have a top-drawer lawyer to represent him. She couldn’t let Smith do anything more that might see him land in prison. She could almost see the anger at Oliver pulsing from Smith’s body, but she held on to him tightly.
‘Please, Smith. Let the police deal with it.’
His jaws clenched as he turned to look at Oliver again, and Effie willed him not to go back and finish what he’d started. She could see the fire in his eyes as he looked at the man who had tried to kill her, but she interlocked her fingers with his. Smith looked back at her and nodded.
‘Fine, but I’m not taking my eyes off him.’
Just as he’d said he would, Smith glared at Oliver right up until the moment the police arrived. Effie stood next to Smith with an itchy wool blanket around her shoulders, watching as two officers read Oliver his rights and slapped the handcuffs on his wrists. She felt lighter with every breath she took. It was finally over.
‘You know I’ll probably get arrested too, right? I don’t want you to panic.’ Smith hooked his hand around the back of her head and kissed the top of her forehead.
‘Why? You didn’t do anything wrong.’
‘I’m sure he’ll have something different to say about that.’
Oliver threw her a look of pure disgust as he was led outside onto the street and into the shimmering blue lights of the police sirens. She held on to Smith tightly, praying the police wouldn’t come back for him. He’d only been defending her, but this was exactly what she’d been afraid of, what she’d been trying to protect him from.
‘Hey.’ Smith kissed her again and pulled her in for a hug. ‘We’ll be fine. I promise.’
The flickering of the lights lit up the hallway in an eerily
calm glow. The neighbour was talking to an officer, telling him what she saw. Surely she’d say that Smith was the good guy in all this? Effie burrowed her head into his chest, sucking in the scent she’d thought she’d never smell again.
‘I know what I’d do if I only had forty-four minutes left to live now.’ She looked up at him, and he smiled.
‘A near-death experience will do that.’ He tucked her hair behind her ears. ‘So, what would you do?’
Effie reached up on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his neck, letting the blanket fall to her feet as she kissed him, her hands delving into his hair. He kissed her back, holding her close to him as the flashing blue lights lit up the space around them. She broke away from him and looked at his beautiful grey eyes. Even when she’d looked into them on her wedding day, she’d known, deep down, how she felt.
‘I love you.’
‘Took you long enough.’ Smith grinned. ‘Tell me something I don’t know.’
He laughed and pulled her back in close to his chest, squeezing her in a hug as she wrapped her arms around his waist.
‘I love you too,’ he murmured.
Effie smiled, clinging on to him, and didn’t let go.
SIX MONTHS LATER
Effie sat in her seat and looked out of the rain-speckled cabin window, letting out a long breath. Why did it have to rain, today of all days? She turned to look at Smith as he put their hand luggage in the overhead locker, and she saw the taut strip of flesh on his abs as his T-shirt rode up. One look at the line of hair leading from his belly button to his jeans made her cheeks burn.
‘You okay?’ he asked, sitting next to her and taking her hand.
‘Yep. I just wish it wasn’t raining.’
He laughed and kissed her knuckles. ‘We’ll be fine. It’s just rain.’
‘Ladies and gentlemen, welcome onboard Air India Flight 9W121 from London to Delhi.’
Effie listened to the captain’s distorted voice through the tannoy and looked at Smith. ‘What’s the flight time again?’
Love You Better Page 33