Dividing Line

by Heather Atkinson

  “Rachel,” finishes Terry.

  “No way, no fucking way,” yells Danny.

  “You told her?” Alex says incredulously.

  “She knew I was going on a robbery but I never told her where or when. She didn't want to know. It can't be her.”

  “She's the only one outside this room who knew.”

  Danny flies at Terry and pushes him up against the wall, his jaw set hard and blue eyes blazing. “You stirring bastard. You know she'd never do anything like that.”

  Alex and Frank separate the two men.

  “If it was anyone it's someone in this room,” roars Danny, still straining to get at his uncle.

  Terry straightens his shirt and smirks. “Alright Danny, calm down. I believe you.”

  Danny takes a deep breath and gains mastery over his anger. “You keep reminding us the robberies are yours. Why don't you try looking closer to home?”

  He shrugs off his dad's grip and stalks off to the toilets to calm down. Terry notices Danny's hand go into the pocket he stuffed the drugs into and he smiles.

  “Oh hi Lucy,” says Rachel, pleasantly surprised. She works with Lucy at the hospital and they are friends.

  “Is Danny in?” she says furtively, her voice almost a whisper.

  “No, he's out. Why?”

  “Can I come in?”

  “Yeah.”

  Lucy follows Rachel through to the lounge and is amazed by the luxury surrounding her. “Oh Rach, this is nice.”

  “Thanks. Can I get you a drink?”

  “No, I can't stay.” Lucy’s expression turns serious. “I just came to tell you something.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  Lucy is dreading what she has to say. God alone knows Rachel's been through enough already but she has a right to know.

  “I'm sorry to have to tell you this Rach but Danny has been shagging Amanda Moore.”

  For a moment Rachel thinks she's misheard. “What?”

  “It was when you were in hospital.”

  Rachel stares at Lucy, stunned. Her eyes well with angry tears and Lucy feels terrible.

  “You mean when I was miscarrying our child he was screwing around with that tart?” Rachel doesn't know Amanda personally but she knows who she is, has seen her around and is well aware of her reputation.

  Lucy nods. “I was at the Egypt Bar earlier tonight. She was boasting about it.”

  The fury in Rachel's eyes makes Lucy nervous. She knows Rachel is a woman not to be crossed and it seems the loss of her baby has only served to harden her even more.

  “Is she still there?”

  “As far as I know.”

  There is a pause as Rachel takes this in.

  “Did I do the right thing telling you?”

  “Course you did love.” Rachel flings on her jacket and snatches up her car keys.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Where do you think?”

  Lucy follows Rachel outside and watches as she climbs into her car and speeds off, wheels spinning. She’s glad she’s not Amanda Moore.

  The Egypt Bar is so called because a couple of historically inaccurate and amateurish paintings of Egyptian sarcophagi adorn the walls. The club is rather quiet. A few people gyrate half heartedly on the dance floor, rolling their eyes as the DJ chatters inanely over the music.

  Amanda Moore is stood at the bar, holding court to her friends as she describes her encounter with Danny Maguire in lurid detail. One of her friends turns to the barman to order another drink and spies Rachel enter the club.

  “Shit Amanda, it's Rachel Maguire.”

  The bravado leaves Amanda in an instant and she pales at the sight of Rachel stomping towards her, face contorted with rage. With a squeal Amanda jumps off her stool and tries to run but her high heels hamper her progress and Rachel is on her. She grabs a handful of her long red hair, yanks her head back and smashes her fist into her face. Amanda crumples to the floor, crying. Everyone stops dancing to watch the spectacle. Even the DJ has mercifully shut his trap.

  Amanda's so-called friends just stand by and watch Rachel mercilessly pummel her into a bloody pulp. Once her rage is spent she steps back, panting with the exertion. Kneeling by Amanda's trembling form she pulls her towards her by the front of her dress.

  “You go anywhere near my husband again you filthy slag and I'll fucking kill you, I swear.”

  “I won’t, promise,” sobs Amanda, lisping because she’s now missing her front teeth.

  With a sneer of disgust Rachel throws Amanda to the floor and turns and strides out of the club. When she’s gone everyone begins chatting animatedly. Amanda's friends look down at her crying and bleeding on the floor, their faces hard. As far as they’re concerned if you mess with the Maguires you deserve everything you get.

  When Rachel gets home Danny still hasn't returned. She heads straight into the bathroom, her breathing agitated, and washes the blood off her hands. She splashes cold water over her face and gazes at her reflection in the mirror with loathing. For years she’s managed to control her temper. Her knuckles are swollen and bruised and the sight sickens her. How many times when she was younger did she look down at the same sight and hate herself? For so long she's managed to avoid trouble like this and now she is right back at square one, all because of Danny Maguire. She closes her eyes and breathes deeply in an effort to calm herself.

  “Rach?” Danny's voice filters up the stairs as he moves from room to room below looking for her. She feels the rage course through her once more and stares back at her reflection with hard eyes, which are as black as pitch.

  “Rach, where are you?”

  He paces restlessly through the rooms, unable to keep still, rubbing his reddened nose, unaware that he's even doing it. He smiles when he sees Rachel descend the stairs.

  “Alright Babe?” he grins.

  She doesn’t reply, she can’t because she’s too angry. Her whole body shakes with fury and her eyes blaze.

  “What happened to you?” he says, indicating her bruised hands.

  “Oh this,” she says, holding her hands up for him to see. “I had a run in with Amanda Moore.”

  His face falls and his stomach drops.

  “Don't worry, she came off a hell of a lot worse.”

  “Rach…”

  “I know what you did when I was in hospital going through the worst experience of my entire life. When I needed you most you were shagging some tart,” she yells.

  He closes his eyes, her voice making his head hurt.

  “And there she was tonight in the Egypt Bar, bloody bragging about it.”

  “I'm sorry,” he says.

  “Enough. I'm sick of your apologies.”

  “Perhaps I wouldn't have had to look elsewhere if you weren't frigid.”

  “Oh no, you're not getting away with that. Don't you dare try and blame this on me.”

  He cringes. “Will you please stop shouting? You're giving me a bastarding headache.” He closes his eyes and massages his temples, head throbbing. His heart pounds and he’s sweating profusely.

  “Oh bless,” she says sarcastically. “Had too much cocaine again have we? You're pathetic.”

  “Oh really?” he scowls.

  “Yes really. Weak and pathetic. Well I'm fucking sick of you. I'm leaving.”

  His eyes fly open. “What did you say?”

  “I said I’m leaving you.”

  She turns and heads towards the stairs to pack but he pulls her back by the arm.

  “Get off me,” she shouts, trying to push him away but in his mania he’s too strong.

  She struggles against him and manages to wrench her arm free. However she stumbles and falls backwards, banging the left side of her face on the corner of the coffee table and landing painfully on her left wrist.

  This snaps him out of his anger. “Rach, are you alright?” he exclaims, helping her to her feet.

  “You bastard,” she snarls.

  She punches him hard in the face, ca
using him to stagger backwards and she turns and runs for the door.

  “Come back,” he calls pathetically, chasing after her.

  She’s thankful her car keys are still in her jacket pocket and she climbs inside, slams the door shut and locks it.

  “Rach,” he yells again, banging on the door.

  With trembling hands she starts up the engine and it roars into life.

  As she speeds off Danny sinks to his knees and begins weeping.

  “Rach.”

  He watches her car go down the road until the red tail lights disappear in the darkness.

  Superintendent Benton is shocked by the state Amanda Moore’s in. Rachel has given her a bloody good going over. She has a fractured cheekbone, a split lip, cracked ribs and two front teeth knocked out. Amanda lies in her hospital bed eyeing Benton warily.

  “I'm sorry but there's no way I'm pressing charges,” Amanda mumbles through her split lips.

  “Are you going to let her get away with this?”

  “Yes. This is nothing compared to what they’d do to me if I grassed.”

  “Surely you want payback? Perhaps some compensation?”

  Her eyes light up greedily. She is totally skint so compo would come in very handy.

  Benton presses home his advantage. “With all your injuries I reckon you could come out of this with a very tidy sum and we all know the Maguires are loaded.”

  She considers this for a moment then shakes her head. “Nah. They'd still do me over.”

  “What if I offered you protection?”

  “You can do that, like in the movies?”

  He sighs inwardly but he doesn't care. He would give this girl the Queen's frigging personal bodyguard if it meant he got Rachel Maguire.

  “Yeah, just like the movies. You'd be like Whitney Houston in The Bodyguard.”

  Amanda's eyes light up and Benton sniggers inwardly. What a moron.

  Gillian is just on her way to bed, wrapped up in a thick orange towelling dressing gown with night cream smeared all over her face when there’s a knock at the door. She pauses, worrying who it could be. A visitor this late can't be good news.

  “I'll get it,” says Rick manfully.

  He puts on his best hard man look and pulls the door open, dropping the act when he sees his daughter on the doorstep, bleeding and bruised.

  “Rachel,” he gasps.

  “Dad,” she moans, putting her hands out to him.

  “Jesus Gill get out here,” he shouts wrapping his daughter in his arms and helping her into the house.

  “Oh my God,” cries Gill, clapping her hands to her face in shock, forgetting about the night cream. They help Rachel limp into the house and settle her on the couch.

  “What happened?” demands Gill.

  Rachel's eyes well with tears, the shock of what's happened catching up with her. “Danny,” she sobs.

  As Gillian rocks her back and forth in her arms Rick storms over to the phone and punches in Frank's number. He doesn't care if he is the big man around here, he's going to get the full force of his wrath after what his bastard son has done to his lovely daughter.

  Frank is worried. Again. He’s heard about Rachel's fight with Amanda Moore and now he's round at the house with Alex and Terry to find the front door open and the lights on but no sign of Danny or Rachel. There are signs of a struggle and both their cars are gone. Danny's mobile is switched off and Rachel's is still in the house. Fear grips him as various scenarios run through his mind, each more horrific than the last. His phone rings and he snatches it out of his pocket.

  “Yeah,” he barks.

  “Frank it's Rick. Guess what your fucking boy's done to my girl?”

  CHAPTER 22

  Frank and Martina meet up with Rachel and her parents at the hospital to find them waiting for the results of the x-ray to her wrist.

  “Jesus Rachel,” Frank breathes when he sees her.

  Her lower lip is split and her mouth bruised. Her left wrist is swollen and tender and she cradles it protectively.

  “Danny did this?” says Martina incredulously.

  “I confronted him about Amanda Moore, I told him I'd had enough and that I was leaving him. He got angry but he didn’t hit me, it was an accident. He grabbed my arm and when I tried to free myself I fell and landed on the coffee table.”

  “What's Amanda Moore got to do with this?” frowns Martina.

  “Your son was shagging her when Rachel was in this very hospital having the miscarriage,” spits Rick.

  Frank looks at the floor furtively, which doesn't escape Martina's notice. “You knew?”

  “Yeah.”

  Martina is outraged. “You knew before or after he made up with Rachel?”

  “Before,” he replies, like a little boy being told off by his teacher.

  Martina wags her index finger in his face. “You bloody idiot. If you'd mentioned something sooner then all this could have been avoided. There you go again, playing God with people's lives. When will you learn not to interfere?”

  “I thought it was for the best.”

  Martina tuts and rolls her eyes. “Best my arse. He's been getting more and more unstable lately. It's the frigging coke.”

  Frank is stunned. He didn't know she was aware of Danny's habit.

  “Don't gawp at me like that you great gormless lump. Do you think I’m daft or something?

  “Excuse me but I don't understand. What's a fizzy drink got to do with it?” says Gillian in genuine confusion.

  At that moment Rick loves his wife more than ever for her innocence. He wraps an arm around her shoulders and kisses her cheek. “She means cocaine love. Not coca cola.”

  “Danny's on drugs?” Gillian exclaims.

  “Since I got pregnant,” says Rachel quietly.

  Gillian looks hurt. “Why didn't you say anything?”

  “I didn't want to worry you.”

  Martina turns back to Frank, her fury still not spent. “Now you are going to do what you should have done weeks ago. You're going to find Danny and sort him out once and for all, no matter what it takes. Do you understand?”

  Frank nods and Martina takes a deep shuddering breath as the rage drains from her body.

  Frank looks at Rachel earnestly. “I should have told you Rach. I'll never forgive myself.”

  “It's not your fault.” She tries to smile but the pain in her face makes her wince. “He's a grown man, he knew what he was doing.”

  His phone rings and Martina scowls. “You shouldn't have that on in here.”

  But he doesn’t hear her because he’s listening to the voice on the other end. “No, don't make a move and don't let him leave. I'll be there as quick as I can.”

  He hangs up and they all look at him expectantly. “That was Terry. They've found Danny. He's in his office at the car lot.”

  He turns to leave.

  “Whatever it takes, remember Frank,” says Martina severely.

  Frank nods determinedly.

  Danny is sat at his desk drinking heavily, the remnants of the line he’s just snorted on the desk before him. He closes his eyes at the horror of the evening's events, the tears spilling down his cheeks. The coke eases his torment for a short while but as the effects wear off the memories return and he can't bear what he's done. He realises he's lost Rachel for good this time. After what she went through with Steve he knows better than anyone that she won’t be able to forgive him for this. Ever. He winces as the pain in his head flairs up and he massages his temples with shaky hands. His brain feels like a huge ball of cotton wool and he can’t think straight. As the weird flashing lights start up again in front of his eyes he starts to panic so he decides to have some more coke to clear his head.

  As he cuts another line the door to the office bursts open and Frank barges in, his massive frame seeming to fill it. His fists are clenched and the fury is plainly etched on his face. He spots the drugs on the desk and something inside him snaps. He flies at Danny and begins beati
ng him mercilessly with his huge fists. Danny curls up in a ball protecting his head and takes the beating, knowing he has no choice.

  “How do you like a taste of your own medicine?” roars Frank. “I didn't bring you up to attack women. Fucking coward.”

  Outside the door Alex and Terry shuffle uncomfortably as they listen to Frank beating Danny to a pulp. Frank has ordered them to remain where they are, no matter what they hear and they don't dare disobey.

  “I'm pleased to tell you there's no break,” smiles the doctor sympathetically. “Just a nasty sprain.”

  “Well that's a relief,” says Gillian, smiling down at her daughter.

  “I'll bandage it up and give you some painkillers.”

  “Thanks Colin,” smiles Rachel. She has worked with him a few times before and knows him to be a very competent and amiable junior doctor.

  “I'll be back in a few minutes to bandage you up then you can be on your way.”

  He smiles reassuringly then disappears behind the curtain.

  “You two go and get a brew if you want,” Rachel tells her parents. “I'll be fine.”

  “Okay love.”

  As they too disappear behind the curtain she sighs and lies back on the bed. She needs a few minutes alone to think through what’s happened. She is still in shock; it all feels so dream-like. Any minute she expects to wake up beside Danny in their big bed at home. He would smile and cuddle her to him, making her feel safe. Sadness overwhelms her as she realises she might never be with him again.

  The curtain is pulled back and she is confronted by a stern-looking Miss Richards. Her expression softens slightly when she sees the state of Rachel’s face.

  “Hello Rachel. I heard you were here.”

  “Miss Richards,” she says, pushing herself upright. “What are you doing here at this time?”

  “It's eight thirty in the morning.”

  “Is it?” To Rachel it still feels like three in the morning. She's been up all night and hadn't even realised.

  “What happened?”

  “Danny.”

  “Your husband? I heard that you'd been in a fight with a girl called Amanda.”

  “How did you know that?”