by John Nicholl
She stumbled and lost her footing as he dragged her towards the staircase. ‘You can’t even walk in a straight line without falling over. It would be funny if it wasn’t so fucking pathetic.’
She lifted herself to her feet with the aid of the banister and felt a thin stream of urine running down one leg and soaking into her jeans. ‘Sorry, dear.’
‘Now get up those stairs, take a shower, brush your teeth, apply some perfume to mask your stink and lie face down on the bed until I get there.’
She ascended the first two steps on trembling legs without looking back. Never looking back. ‘Any particular p-perfume, dear?’
‘Why do you always feel the need to ask?’
She whispered her words. ‘I just w-want to be sure.’
‘The one my mother gave you. The one that smells of lavender. And use plenty of it. Splash it on. Bath in the fucking stuff if you have to.’
‘Yes, d-dear.’
‘And shut the fuck up until I’m done. I don’t want to hear you and I don’t want to see your face. You just lie there with your legs open for as long as required. Have you got that into your thick head?’
She wept silent tears as she stepped onto the landing and approached the bathroom door. ‘Alright, d-dear. Is there anything else I can do for you? Anything at all?’
‘No, I think that’s enough to be getting on with. Even you should be able to manage that much without too much trouble.’
‘Alright, d-dear.’
‘And stop your fucking snivelling. What the hell’s wrong with you, woman? You’ve got ten minutes to get ready and then I’ll be up. It would not be a good idea to disappoint me again.’
‘Okay, d-dear. I’ll get started.’
‘Oh, and one last thing. Make sure you clear off back downstairs when I’m finished with you. You can sleep on the lounge floor. I want the bed to myself.’
Should she ask? ‘What a-about the settee, dear? I slept there last night.’
He was snarling now, as angry as she’d ever seen him, as he rushed after her. ‘Are you deaf as well as stupid? If I’d meant the fucking settee I’d have said the fucking settee.’
‘S-sorry, dear.’
She stumbled and fell as he pushed her towards the bedroom door with one hand whilst undoing his trousers with the other. ‘Now get up, get your fucking knickers off and lie face down. I’ve decided not to bother waiting.’
Chapter 4
Kathy peered out from behind the lounge curtains as a local supermarket van plastered with brightly coloured advertising logos pulled up outside the house, and she was already waiting in the open doorway by the time the usual middle-aged delivery man waddled down the path a minute or two later. ‘Alright, love, you’re keen today. Put a smile on that pretty face of yours. It may never happen.’
‘Maybe it already has.’
He smiled unconvincingly. ‘Where do you want them, love? I haven’t got all day. I’ve got to be in Llanelli by two o’clock at the latest. It’s all go in this job.’
She nodded and stood aside to allow him to wobble past. ‘In the kitchen, please. You know where it is.’
He carried the groceries from the hall, through the dining room and left them on the kitchen floor, before returning to the van and collecting the remainder of the order. ‘There you go, love. That’s the lot. Can you sign this for me?’
She lifted the last of the overburdened bags from their green plastic containers before looking up and signing with an unreadable squiggle. ‘Thanks again, it’s appreciated as always.’
He picked up the empty receptacles and approached the front door. ‘Are you alright, love? You don’t seem yourself today, if you don’t mind me saying.’
She raised a hand to her face and masked her eyes for a moment. ‘It’s nothing. I’m fine.’
‘If you say so, love. You look as if you’ve got a bad back to me. I suffer with it terribly in the winter months.’
‘I said, I’m fine.’
He nodded twice, but looked less than convinced. ‘I’m off next week. So it will probably be the week after when I see you again. I’m off to Majorca with the missus.’
‘I’ve got to go now. I need to get on.’
He smiled thinly on exiting the house. ‘Alright, love. I was only making conversation, that’s all. Sorry to keep you.’
She closed the door without response and hurried in the direction of the kitchen. Periods didn’t stop without good reason. That’s what she told herself. That’s what she yelled inside her head. She just had to know. One way or the other, pregnant or not, she had to know.
Kathy delved into the first bag, then into another, then another, and finally found what she was looking for in the fourth. She clutched the white box tightly in one hand and ran towards the stairs, ascending two or three steps at a time, despite her pelvic bruising screaming for attention with every painful step. Please God, no. Not a child. Not with him. Anyone but him. She just couldn’t go through it again. Not again. Not after the last time.
She sat on the bathroom floor and stared with unblinking eyes as two red lines appeared in the small window. Oh, God no. Why her? Why now? She’d missed one pill. What were the chances? Just one pill when unconscious and bleeding. Was God looking down and laughing? Or was the devil pulling the strings?
Kathy fastened her jeans, washed her hands with warm water, and returned to the kitchen with her thoughts tumbling over and over in her troubled mind. She had to focus. There were things to do. Things she had to get right. He couldn’t know. He could never know. A child wasn’t a part of his plans. He’d left her in no doubt on that score. He’d punch her, kick her, whatever it took. The baby wouldn’t stand a chance.
She pulled on a thick sky-blue woollen cardigan against the winter chill and stepped out into the back garden for the first time in months. If she was quick maybe no-one would see her. Maybe no-one would tell him. Maybe she’d get away with it. Come on, Kathy, be brave, girl. You can do it. Do it for your baby. Do it for your child.
She repeatedly glanced at the windows of overlooking houses, up, down, right to left and then back again, searching for any sign of non-existent prying eyes, before moving quickly, like a sprinter off the blocks, and opening the shed door. Where was it? Where the hell was it? Ah, thank God! There it was at the back, behind the lawnmower.
Kathy stepped over a pile of half-empty paint tins, careful not to move anything even slightly. If she left any clue, he’d spot it. Just like before. Just like always. She had to be careful. More careful than she’d ever been in her life. So much depended on her efforts.
She took the shovel in one hand, approached a flowerbed at the far side of the lawn and proceeded to dig frantically until she finally judged the hole to be of sufficient depth. She dropped the white plastic tester and its box into the hole and felt a surge of almost overwhelming panic as they contrasted dramatically against the dark earth. If he dug there, he’d spot them. He’d definitely spot them. They stood out as if highlighted by a spotlight on a stage, big, bright and screaming for attention.
She reached down and placed the items to one side before digging down another three feet or so. There, that was it. Much better. Why would he ever have to dig that far down? It had to be deep enough, didn’t it?
Kathy was panting hard as she dropped the items into the hole for the second time. She carefully placed a suitably sized stone directly on top of them and pressed it down with the sole of her shoe, before shovelling the earth back into place and examining it for a few seconds. Not good enough. Close, but not quite there. It had to be as near to perfect as feasibly possible. She couldn’t leave even the slightest hint and get away with it.
She checked her watch, lowered herself onto all fours and began studying the ground closely, adjusting the position of the surface earth with her fingers until it blended almost exactly with the rest. That had to be good enough. Surely it was good enough? Now all she had to do was put the shovel back precisely where she’d got it and
prepare for his return.
Kathy took her shoes off before entering the house with the intention of a five minutes’ rest, but then it dawned on her… the receipt! What if he looked at the receipt? He’d done it before. Why not this time? She just had to find it.
She delved into one bag after another, and was sweating profusely by the time she found the required strip of paper and ripped it into what seemed a thousand tiny pieces. Oh, thank God. One less thing to worry about.
She ran for the stairs. The toilet. That made sense. Flush the pieces down the toilet. Surely not even he could find them there? Not if she kept her mouth tight shut. Not if she stayed strong and didn’t buckle.
She threw all the pieces of paper into the bowl and flushed for a second time when one piece floated to the top. What if she’d missed it? What if he’d spotted it? She’d had a break. Maybe things were looking up. Now all she had to do was have a super quick shower, apply his favourite perfume, wash her dirty clothes, dry them, put them back on again and start cooking his tea. She could manage that, couldn’t she?
She stripped off, stepped into the shower, switched it on and took sensual pleasure in the water warming her skin. Of course she could. She couldn’t let herself become overwhelmed by fear or distress. Failure was unthinkable now. Everything about her had to be just as it was when he’d left that morning. Nothing to raise suspicion. Nothing to spark his concern even slightly. Attention to detail. That’s why she’d failed before. This time had to be different. There were two lives at stake. This time she had to get it right.
Chapter 5
The phone rang seven times before Kathy heard her mother’s familiar musical West Wales voice on the other end of the line. ‘Hello, Mum, it’s Kath. I need to talk.’
The middle-aged mother of two paused for a moment, and sighed theatrically before responding. ‘I was just about to take a nice hot bath with a glass of wine. Can’t it wait? I’m your mother, not an agony aunt.’
Kathy swayed from one foot to the other, oblivious to her repetitive movements. Should she put the phone down? Was it worth continuing? Perhaps she’d take her seriously this time. Maybe she’d even believe her for once in her life.
‘Are you still there, Kath? I haven’t got all day.’
‘Yes, I’m still here.’
‘Okay, I’m all ears. What have you got to say for yourself this time?’
She hung her head, allowing her hair to fall over her face. Why so impatient? Why so dismissive? ‘If you haven’t got time to talk now, I can ring again when it’s more convenient. Maybe make an appointment.’
‘There’s no need to be sarky, young lady. You’re on the phone now. Let’s get it over with, shall we? My bath’s not going to stay hot forever.’
Just say it, Kath. Just say it and be done with it. ‘I’m pregnant again.’
‘Are you keeping it this time?’
She held the palm of her free hand to her belly and massaged it gently. ‘I want to. I really want to.’
‘So what does Mike think?’
‘He doesn’t know. He can’t know. Not this time.’
Her mother laughed sardonically. ‘Well good luck with that. It tends to be rather obvious after a few months. What are you going to do, wear a tight dress?’
Now who’s being sarky? ‘I know that, Mum, I’m not a complete idiot despite what everyone seems to think.’
‘You can’t look after yourself properly, let alone a baby.’
‘I’d be a good mum given the chance.’
‘Tell Mike now. He’s got the right to know, and he’s going to find out soon enough anyway.’
Kathy’s heart was pounding now. Thundering in her ears. ‘Have you forgotten? I tried that last time. He threw me to the floor, kicked me in the gut and I miscarried.’
Her mother sighed. ‘Oh God, not this again. I thought we were done with the wild allegations. I thought you were finally getting better.’
‘He’s violent, Mum. He’s always been violent. When we’re alone. When no-one’s watching.’
‘Have you talked to Dr Jones recently? Maybe she could review your medication. It’s got to be worth a try.’
Kathy was weeping now. Her chest heaving as she gasped for breath. ‘What m-medication? I’m not taking a-any medication.’
Her mother snorted. ‘Well maybe that’s the real problem. Have you thought about that? Maybe if you did what you were told for once in your life we wouldn’t be having this conversation now. I don’t know how Mike copes with it all.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘He’s told us all about it, Kath. We know you’ve been ill since losing the baby last year. We know all about the psychiatric evaluation. We know you’re not cooperating with the treatment plan. It’s time to start listening to the experts.’
She increased her grip on the phone. ‘I haven’t seen a psychiatrist. I haven’t seen anybody. He wouldn’t want that. I might say something he wouldn’t want anyone to hear. I don’t go out at all.’
‘Mike’s told us you’ve refused to join him when he visits. And he’s told us you won’t accept visitors at your place, not even me and your father. It’s not healthy, Kath. You’ve got to start mixing again. What’s cutting off your family going to achieve?’
‘It’s not like that. None of that’s true. He’s a liar.’
She paused before responding. ‘Imagine what Mike would think if he could hear the way you talk about him. What on earth is wrong with you? You’ve got a good man. A caring man who loves you despite your flaws. That’s more than most can claim. Why isn’t that enough for you? Why the drama queen? Why the constant need for attention? You’ve always been the same.’
‘I need help, Mum. He’s violent, abusive. I don’t know what more I can say to convince you.’
‘Okay, so invite us over. Prove him wrong. Let’s talk face to face. Me, you, Mike and Dad.’
‘I can’t do that.’
Her mother groaned. ‘What a surprise. So Mike was right all along. Just as I thought. You’ve got to get a grip, young lady. There’s only so long he’s going to put up with your constant game playing.’
‘If you came he’d punish me once you’d left. He’d wait until we were alone to show his true colours. I could lose the baby.’
‘Do you remember all the lies you told us as a teenager? We couldn’t believe a word you said to us. We didn’t deserve that.’
‘This is different. I’m not a teenager anymore.’
‘Is it different, Kath? Is it really different? Or are you that same manipulative girl you were then?’
She was murmuring her words now, her voice reverberating with raw emotion. ‘One day you’ll find out I’m telling the truth. One day you’ll see beyond his mask. And then you’ll have to believe me.’
‘You do need help. But not the sort of help you’re implying.’
‘You’ll be sorry one day.’
‘My bath’s getting cold. Is there anything else?’
‘Please don’t tell him I called. Will you do that much for me?’
‘I’ll think about it.’
‘Please, Mum, I’m begging you.’
Her mother rose to her feet. ‘If I don’t tell him, and it is an if, it’s only because I think he’s got enough to put up with without your antics. He’s in a high-pressure job. A demanding job. He needs your support, not your criticisms. Maybe then you’d have a relationship that works for both of you.’
Kathy checked her watch. ‘So you won’t tell him?’
‘I won’t tell him.’
‘Goodbye, Mum, I won’t be phoning again.’
Chapter 6
Police Constable 143 Kieran Harris was hoping he wouldn’t receive an answer when he knocked on the Conner’s front door at nine fifteen the following Tuesday evening. But all too soon a white light shone brightly in the hallway and Inspector Conner stood facing him. ‘What can I do for you, Constable? I hope you’re not going to piss me off any more than you already
have.’
PC Harris took a deep breath and stood his ground. ‘Sorry to bother you, sir. But a…’
Conner took a single step forwards. ‘Just spit it out, Kieran, for fuck’s sake. It’s been a stressful evening. You’re only making things worse.’
‘We’ve received a report of a female screaming at this address.’
He pressed his lips together and sneered. ‘Oh for fuck’s sake. It’ll be that nosy git next door again. I’ve explained to him what’s happening more than once. I think he must be getting senile or something.’
‘Can I come in, sir?’
‘No you fucking well can’t. Everything’s fine. No problems here. Just sod off and leave me in peace. There’s a good lad.’
Harris felt his face reddening as his pulse began to quicken. ‘I can’t do that, sir.’
Conner laughed, head back, Adam’s apple protruding in his throat. ‘Well, aren’t you the little do-gooder, PC Plod? Stay there, don’t move an inch, and I’ll go and get her. You can speak to her yourself. She’s as mad as a fucking hatter, but you might get some sense out of her if you’re lucky. Perhaps then you’ll be satisfied and get some idea of what I’m dealing with.’
‘Thank you, sir. You know it makes sense.’
He turned away without response and strode down the hallway before disappearing into the sitting room to his left and slamming the door behind him.
‘I d-didn’t ring. Honestly, I didn’t r-ring.’
He placed his face only inches from hers and hissed his words, spraying her with a myriad tiny globules of saliva. ‘I know that, bitch. You can stop cowering. There’s something you need to do for me.’
She nodded, moving her head only slightly before wiping her face with the sleeve of her cardigan.’
‘Right, you’re going to pull yourself together and tell that moron standing at the door that you’re just fine. You’ve never felt better. That we had a disagreement and you got worked up about nothing. Do you think you can manage that much?’