by Peter Martin
As he stroked his cheek, which must have stung painfully, he replied, ‘Perhaps I don’t want to touch you again, anyway.’
Donna’s jaw dropped open. How dare he say this after she’d just had an abortion specifically for him? Perhaps he was still angry at her for not letting him touch her. But what did he expect? A maniac had raped her, beat her up and left her for dead.
‘And what do you mean by that?’
‘What do you think I mean? You’re making me out to be the villain in this. I didn’t rape you – he did. I have the right to feelings and needs the same as anyone else. Have you any idea how I feel when you keep pushing me away, even if I so much as dare to try to hold your hand? And will having an abortion make any difference to that? I doubt it. You’ve got to stop taking your problems out on me – all right.’ He nodded at her, moving his eyebrows up.
Donna was shaking furiously, trying hard not to shed any more tears for him. She realised then any feelings he had for her had vanished; if they’d ever been there in the first place. She turned away from him and went back to the spare room.
Flopping down on the bed, she was devastated over Blake’s reaction to the abortion. She’d killed her own child for him – for God’s sake. The pain she felt oozed out of her. She could do nothing to stem the tide and hated herself for what she’d done. No one would ever want her again because she’d been raped and was now frigid. That’s what Blake thought anyway.
Sometime later she managed to pull herself together, and finally dried her tear-stained face with a wad of tissues. She sat up on the bed, looking into space.
When all of a sudden the front door banged shut, she got up, opened the bedroom door, and walked across to the living room window just in time to see him get into his car. He drove his red Ford Fiesta off at high speed. He wouldn’t be back for a while, she surmised. But where would he go? Out with friends to get drunk perhaps – or maybe even out on the pull? Unless he’d already found someone else and that’s what he hadn’t told her. She tried not to think about it because it would send her off into even more turmoil. Overwhelmed by his reaction, she couldn’t understand why he was doing this to her. Many times in the past he’d gone out of his way for her, but now he’d changed completely. All because the physical side of their relationship had gone.
But despite this, she wished he’d hurry up. She felt so alone without his presence in the flat, even if they were at loggerheads. With him there she’d feel safe, especially with her attacker still at large.
The longer he was away the more on edge she got. She panicked despite how he’d treated her. What if he didn’t come back? What would she do? True, she could have her pick of men; but he’d been the only one to treat her as an equal, and not a sex object to conquer. Until now. All right, so she’d changed of late, but he had too. And if she could overcome her fears, shouldn’t he at least meet her halfway?
By midnight, she convinced herself he wouldn’t be coming back. If he was spending the night with another woman, she couldn’t forgive that. Not ever.
Getting up from the settee, she made her way to the bathroom for a quick shower. She’d been told to take it easy for the rest of the day and although she should have been in bed hours ago, she was too wound up to sleep. But she couldn’t stay up forever.
She lay quietly on the bed in the spare bedroom wanting to shut the whole world out of her life, but sleep wasn’t going to come easily, with Blake still not home. Perhaps he’d got himself into trouble because of how upset he was – she even blamed herself for his behaviour.
It was deadly quiet in the flat. Lying there tossing and turning, sweat pouring out of her, she felt all alone, as if no one cared about her, except for what they could get out of her.
Only a little while later, she was jolted awake by Blake’s noisy entrance at the front door. Her heart beat faster with sheer relief; but also fear. He hadn’t left her after all. She heard him rummaging about, first in the living room by the sound of it, then in the kitchen. He was humming, perhaps in a much better mood than when he’d gone out. Thank God, so long as he was in a good mood for the right reasons. However, she didn’t intend venturing out of her room until the morning.
Then came the sound of the bathroom door locking. Followed by water splashing, as he gargled his throat, which she found vaguely amusing. But her relief soon changed when suddenly the door to the room burst open. The light from the other rooms filtered through, causing it to be in a sort of semi-darkness, as she opened her eyes.
‘Donna!’ he shouted at the top of his voice. The bellowing of his rich baritone voice reverberated round the room.
She started to shake, smelling the faint odour of stale beer on him - and saw the glazed look in his eyes. He was in fact still angry and very drunk.
He spoke through gritted teeth and said, ‘Donna, I want you out of that bed. And back where you belong.’ He switched on the light.
She narrowed her eyes until she grew accustomed to the light. Sitting up in bed, moving back, she feared what he might do to her in his present state. ‘Leave me alone Blake. You’re drunk; go and sleep it off.’
‘Leave you alone!’ he shouted at her. ‘I’ve left you alone for long enough. I won’t tell you again - get into our bed.’
She shook her head vigorously.
He bent over towards her, making her gasp with fright as he pulled back the covers of her bed. She was wearing only a flimsy nightdress to cover her modesty. Visions of what had happened on that awful night returned to her, her whole body vibrated with terror, wondering what he intended next.
He breathed heavily, almost hoarse in his rasping. ‘Have you got the faintest idea what you do to me? You, the most beautiful creature I’ve ever set my eyes on. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d get it together with you. But now just when I thought you were mine you tell me I’m not to touch you anymore. That’s fucking evil, wicked, that’s what it is.’
She said nothing. Shivered not from the cold, but through dread. He’d never been like this with her before.
He reached out, his hand clenching the top of her nightdress, and pulled at, then ripped it from her body, leaving her wearing only a pair of skimpy knickers. Gasping in shock, she covered herself with her arms.
‘I want you so badly,’ he growled, his eyes widening, giving him a manic expression that frightened her. ‘More than anything in the world. You’re tormenting me, you wicked bitch.’
‘No, no, no, please.’ She moved further up the bed, but knew there was no escape. ‘Blake; I’ve just had an abortion, for God’s sake. I can’t –’
‘You can and you will, you cow. I don’t believe that man raped you – it’s an excuse to ditch me for someone else. Well, I will take what is rightfully mine.’ He looked at her as if she was dirt.
‘You’re no better than the man who raped me – no, you’re worse. I loved you, and I thought you loved me!’ she shouted, her arms tightening around her body.
She whimpered, then began to cry - it was as if the whole male population were out to destroy her because she wouldn’t give herself to them.
Blake stopped suddenly. Froze in mid-flight, looked at her strangely, then his head dropped forward, and he collapsed in front of her in a heap on the bed.
She screamed and screamed until her throat was hoarse from it, hurriedly pushing him off. With the tension released, she was too petrified to do anything else. Saliva dribbled from her mouth onto her arms. She wondered if anyone had heard her.
Even though he lay there in a drunken stupor, dead to the world, she still hated being in the same room as him. If he woke up, there was no telling what he might do. She moved off the bed, pulled on her dressing gown, and with difficulty, grabbing hold of his arms, struggled to pull him out of her room and back into his own. There she left him on the floor, closing the door behind him.
She realised then, that there was no alternative but to leave as soon as possible. She got dressed; gathered all her clothing and belongings f
rom around the flat to pack into a large suitcase, which she pulled down from the top of her wardrobe. Back in the confines of her room, she pushed a chest of draws against the door, placing the luggage on top, hoping if he woke in the night, it would stop him from getting in.
It was out of the question to leave the flat this early in the morning – no taxis or buses would be running. So she lay on her bed with the light on staring at the door, praying he wouldn’t try to force his way in.
If only there was someone she could phone, but who would believe Blake had almost tried to rape her? The police would treat it as a domestic issue and wouldn’t want to get involved. As for her parents, unless he did something unspeakable, she didn’t want them to know.
This was all too much to cope with. Blake had forced her to relive her nightmare all over again – and now she was certain she’d never trust him or any other man again.
She must have been lying there on the bed for hours it seemed, when she suddenly realised the new day was coming; beams of light filtered through her curtains. Then came the noise of activity from the other bedroom, of someone retching over and over again. Her heart leapt, fear returned. Blake getting rid of whatever he’d drunk the previous night. It made her feel sick and disgusted at his uncouth antics. To her now all men were pigs.
As the minutes ticked by, she listened intently to what was going on in their bedroom. It sounded as if he was trying to clean up something from the carpet. He must have made a right mess. But that was the least of her worries.
The chest of draws remained in front of the door and she moved the bed next to it to make doubly sure he couldn’t get in. She was determined to keep them there until he’d gone.
Fortunately, luck was on her side. He didn’t attempt to enter her room. Instead, he continued to rummage about for a long time, so much so she thought he’d end up being late for work.
After much stomping about, the front door of the flat slammed shut, as did the outside door to the building. From this, she deduced he’d actually gone. After a few minutes, she decided to try to move the chest of draws and bed away from the door. It was difficult to move them easily, but eventually she got the door open with just enough room to allow her to get by. She squeezed past, making her way into the living room, where looking through the window, she was just in time to see his car travelling down the road.
A strong smell of disinfectant and stale sick lingered in the air. It turned her stomach. She sighed to herself, thinking about the life she might have had to face with him. It seemed she’d had a lucky escape, but the alternative, the prospect of an uncertain future, filled her with despair.
Last night’s deplorable behaviour had made her realise he wasn’t the man she thought he was, and marrying him was out of the question. If she did she’d face a life of hell. Perhaps he had been drunk, and wouldn’t remember what he’d done. But that wasn’t the point. The point was, even in a drunken state, he had the intent. What if it happened again? No, now she’d ever feel safe with him again.
Sadly for her, she had no one to turn to. No friends who might take her in. The only option left was her mum and dad. Her last and only resort. From as far back as she could remember she’d never been happy living with them. True, they’d never physically beat her, but they’d made her life a misery in lots of other ways. How well she remembered them shouting and screaming at her whenever she refused to go on a film set, or to strut about on the catwalk. Things she could forgive but never forget - but right now she was in a tight spot and had no other choice.
When she was ready, she phoned for a taxi. The taxi driver beeped his horn as soon as he got there. She struggled out of the flat with her luggage onto the pavement, glad when he got out to help her.
As the taxi moved off, she didn’t even look back at what had been her first home of her own. All the memories remained, and although they made her feel sick, it was impossible to forget the happy times they’d shared. But the events of the past few weeks overshadowed this, and now there was no going back.
The taxi driver made for the address he’d been given, to the suburb of Dexford, where her parents lived. It would be difficult to live with them but there was no alternative. It wouldn’t be forever, only until she could get back on her feet again. But how long that would take, she didn’t know.
Chapter 8
SHE SHOULD HAVE PHONED TO LET THEM KNOW WHAT HAD HAPPENED, BUT SHE’D FELT TOO ASHAMED AND HURT. It was probably best to tell them about it when she got there. She knew they’d welcome her back with open arms, but how difficult would it be for her to get away once they had her in their clutches. Unless she could get herself back to work they would try to manipulate her once again. The only consolation was that she was safer there than at the flat with Blake.
As the taxi pulled up outside her parent’s house, Donna saw her father’s stocky figure in the garden, on his knees weeding the borders surrounding the lawn. His stomach flopped over his grey trousers; and as he looked up, he smiled and waved, seeing her get out of the taxi. The driver took out her large suitcase and various other bags and put them down on the pavement. She gave him a twenty pound note and told him to keep the change. He drove off, leaving her surrounded by luggage.
Her father got up suddenly and walked briskly towards her, obviously realising something was amiss. When Donna attempted to pick up the suitcases, he waved her aside, and lifted the largest up himself.
‘What’s going on love?’ he asked her, his eyes full of concern.
She shook her head, not intending to say anything yet. Picked up her other bags and followed him towards the front door. The door opened even before they got there.
Donna’s mother stood just inside the doorway, no doubt sensing trouble.
‘What on earth’s the matter?’ she asked, although she must have had a good idea by the amount of luggage her daughter had.
Eyes full of tears, she strode past her mother into the house, without saying a word. And after putting the bags down in the hall, she went into the living room, to sit down on the armchair close to the fire. She looked down at the carpet, aware both her parents were staring at her. But they didn’t speak.
‘I’ll get us a drink, shall I?’ Her mother said finally.
Donna burst into tears, forcing her father to rush over to her to take her hand and squeeze it gently. He stared at her with angst, then handed her a tissue from the box on the coffee table. She blew her nose and wiped her eyes. ‘Thanks dad.’
Her mother came back with two cups of tea, handing one to Donna. She took a sip, tasting whisky, a ploy she suspected to calm her down a little, and then put her cup down by the fire grate.
‘Want to talk about it now, love?’ her father asked in a quiet soothing voice.
Donna glanced at both of them, biting her bottom lip, moving about uncomfortably in her seat. It was no good; no point in holding it back any longer.
‘I’ve left him.’ The pain of it had already taken its toll by virtue of her red blood-shot eyes.
‘But why? I thought you were happy with him. You’d even set a date for the wedding, hadn’t you?’ Donna’s mother said in exasperation.
‘You’d better tell us what this is all about, Donna. If he’s hurt you - he’ll wish he hadn’t – especially after what you’ve been through recently.’ Her father balled up and squeezed his fist.
So leaving out the worst bits, like Blake almost trying to rape her, she told them exactly what had happened. Including the abortion, which she’d planned to keep from them, but what did it matter now?
‘This is unbelievable.’ Her mum said, shaking her head. ‘I never dreamed Blake was like that.’
‘Everybody has fights Donna. You’ve both been through a lot – isn’t there any way you can patch things up?’
‘It’s gone too far for that dad. He hasn’t been the same since I came out of the hospital, and gradually he’s got worse.’
‘Well all I can say is, it’s despicable. Looks like you’re best
rid of him,’ her mum said.
‘Maybe I am, but that doesn’t make me feel any better. Sorry, but I had nowhere else to go.’ Frantically she rubbed her eyes.
‘You can stay here as long as you like – that goes without saying. There’ll always be a home for you here. Won’t there Joe?’
‘Of course. It’ll be so nice to have you around us again,’ he agreed.
‘Thanks mum, dad – I just wish it hadn’t come to this.’
‘Never mind that, you’re back home alive and well, and that’s all that matters,’ her mother said.
‘I’ll only stay until I find a place of my own.’
‘There’s no need for that – stay for as long as you like. So let’s hear no more about it - all right?’ her father said.
Donna nodded, bravely trying to smile but the smile never reached her eyes. ‘Can I have my own old room back?’
‘Course you can - with pleasure,’ he beamed with a grin.
Later she took the lighter bags upstairs, her father struggled behind with the large suitcase, which he left on the floor just inside the bedroom.
‘Thanks dad.’ She went easily into his arms, hugged by the man who’d always been the one steadying influence in her life.
‘It’s great to have you home. I’m so sorry this had to happen, I know how much you thought of him.’
‘Mind if I unpack my stuff now. I’ll be down later – all right?’
‘Sure, take your time, love. You know where we are if you need us,’ he winked at her, like he used to when she was a kid.
A strange sense of relief came over her when he’d gone. Sitting on the bed, she looked around, seeing it much the same as ever, littered with pictures of her, first as a child actress, the sweet as sugar little girl in television commercials. Then later as a model for some of the country’s biggest catalogues, and finally a beauty queen, narrowly failing to become Miss England twice, and Miss United Kingdom once. Many said she looked stunning in whatever pose she was photographed, although she insisted she was far from perfect.