Lisa sat staring at her wedding ring, no longer able to twist it nervously round her finger because it was so swollen, but picking at it restlessly as she waited for her husband to come home.
She was scarcely recognisable. Her face was pinched and there were dark hollows beneath her eyes. Her right cheekbone was bruised, and above her right eye there was a fading yellow mark. Similar marks covered her upper arms and breasts, but since she'd stopped going to the ante-natal clinic she was spared the humiliation of people knowing that Toby was always knocking her about.
She'd never had any time for battered wives, believing in her youthful ignorance that no one needed to stay with a man who physically abused them. Now she knew better. Her fear of him was so great that she was more terrified of having him come after her and possibly kill her than she was of staying with him. At least he was out a great deal, working, drinking or laying some dollybird. She didn't care if it was the latter; it was only the drink that caused the trouble.
He was rarely sober any more, and she didn't know why that had happened either. There were rumours in the paper of his show being axed, but that didn't make any sense as it was high in the ratings. Toby refused to discuss what he called total fabrications in the gutter press he had once courted so assiduously.
She wondered if he was in debt because sometimes when she was alone at night, men would ring up, refusing to leave messages with her; men who sounded both dangerous and annoyed. Again Toby wouldn't talk about them, except to say that they were friends. They didn't sound particularly friendly to her.
Hearing his key in the lock, her stomach lurched and she began to tremble. She knew he was drunk because he was having so much trouble with the door, but she didn't dare go and help him because that would be wrong. Nearly everything she did these days was wrong. She was amazed to realise he'd brought people back with him; amazed, and at first relieved, until she recognised Roger and his current girlfriend, an underage blonde nymphette called Candy. 'How's my little wife?' sneered Toby, nearly tripping over the edge of the rug. 'Fine.'
'That's what we like to hear, isn't it, Candy?' Candy gave a girlish squeal of laughter and stared adoringly at Toby. 'Like her?' he continued. 'Think you'd fancy her?' Again a squeal of laughter.
'What are you on about?' asked Lisa, keeping a wary eye on Roger who was blocking the only exit.
'We've come to keep you company. I've been neglecting you lately, so Roger and Candy are going to help me make up for my lapse.'
'No, they're not. I know what you're suggesting and I absolutely refuse. If you don't get those two out of this house, I'm calling the police.'
'I don't think so, sweetheart,' he laughed, and pulled the telephone cord out of its socket. She glanced round the room. Roger was still by the door, his eyes glinting. Candy stood by Toby, her cheeks flushed with excitement, while his blue eyes were cold and full of hate.
'Why did you marry me?' she whispered. 'Why force me to marry you when you don't like me any more than I like you?'
'But I do! I like you so much I want you to get to know all my friends personally. Into the bedroom, unless you want Roger to carry you, and he can be a little rough when he's high.'
'Get them out!' she hissed through clenched teeth.
Toby reached towards her and pulled her blouse off her shoulders. 'Now get the rest of your clothes off.’
She knew that this time she had to stand up for herself and the baby. Toby was beyond all reason, set on some mad course of destruction intended to include her, and he wasn't going to succeed. She looked quickly round the room before turning docilely towards the bedroom door.
'Good girl, I knew you'd see sense!' he laughed, and then she turned, picking up the nearly empty whisky bottle lying on the telephone table and smashing it against the wall so that she was left holding the neck , extending the hideously jagged edge towards Toby . 'Get them out of here or I'll cut your face to ribbons, Toby Walker,' she said softly. Candy gave a scream of fright and started to move towards Roger. 'You too, Candy,' continued Lisa, never taking her eyes off the frozen Toby. 'If you don't get out of here I'll cut your face as well, and let's be honest, that's about all you've got going for you, isn't it!' With one final frightened squeak, Candy wisely fled. After a brief delay, Roger followed, leaving husband and wife alone. 'You wouldn’t do that,' said Toby quietly. 'You haven't got the guts to cut me. I'd break your arm before you got near enough.' 'Try me.'
He looked at her face and tried a change of tactic. 'O.K. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have… '
'Too right. I don't know why you married me, or why you're behaving like you are, but I've had enough. I'm leaving here and now, and nothing you do or say will stop me.'
'You can't leave me. People will ask questions!'
'What people? I don't know anyone who cares what happens to me, and I'm certainly not going to go round boasting about what's gone on in this house during the past few months. All I want is peace, and that’s something I'm never going to get with you—you're insane! Now get out of my way.'
'You've made a big mistake, Lisa, and you’re going to be sorry,' he snarled, and suddenly lunged towards her. Startled and terrified she jabbed the bottle forward and up, feeling the impact as it came into contact with his face, and hearing a dull tearing sound.
Maddened beyond any sense and shouting furiously, he began to pursue her round the room. She managed to cut him twice more before he cornered her, but eventually found herself trapped against the wall, and at the sight of the blood pouring from his torn face she lost her nerve and began to scream, a scream that turned to a shriek of terror as he caught hold of her arm and twisted it, forcing her to drop the bottle to the floor.
She heard a bone snap and felt a blinding flash of pain shoot up into her shoulder, but still she kicked out, trying desperately to keep him at a distance, certain that he was going to kill her and her unborn baby.
'You cow!' he whispered as he closed in. 'You're going to wish you'd never been born.'
She screamed again but there was no point because there wasn't anyone within earshot. As the first blow landed on her stomach, she felt certain that she and her baby were about to die.
After a few minutes she began to lose consciousness. She could no longer try and protect the baby and her screams started to die away as she slid slowly down the wall. Her soft whimpering only infuriated Toby more, and he was yelling obscenities at her as he picked up the broken bottle, holding its jagged edge lightly against the skin beneath her left eye.
'If you think you're leaving me, you're wrong,' he hissed furiously. 'I'm not giving up after everything I've been through for you. I'll make such a mess of your face that for the rest of your life you'll be grateful if a man's even kind enough to speak your name.'
'You haven't done anything for me!' she cried, attempting to twist her face away but finding it caught between the fingers of his left hand.
'Of course I have. Where do you think I went on all my evenings out? Pub crawling? Stupid bitch! I was… '
'Get away from her, Walker,' said a quiet voice. Toby froze, the bottle still by her face but his expression suddenly one of fear. 'Step back slowly,' the voice continued. 'Any sudden moves might frighten me, and when I'm scared I tend to shoot first and see if I was right afterwards.'
For a second Toby hesitated. Lisa actually felt the glass prick her skin but was too terrified to utter a sound because the voice that had interrupted her nightmare was deadly despite its softness. Deadly and familiar. He was the man she'd seen in Simon's hall on Boxing Day. 'Don't make any more mistakes, Walker, you can't afford them. Step away from her.'
'I'll get you one day,' whispered Toby before backing off, turning away from her to look at the visitor.
'Now fetch her robe from the bedroom.' 'Why the hell… ?'
'She needs medical attention. Even private hospitals might ask questions if we take her in looking like that.'
Lisa, unable to stop shaking and whimpering, realised that her blou
se was torn to shreds and blood was dripping from the cut beneath her eye and landing on her cream skirt. Taking the robe from Toby's outstretched hands she tried to put it on, but the pain from her right arm made her scream aloud.
'Help her,' instructed Bishop.
'No! Don't let him near me, I'll do it. I just… '
'Certainly not. Move aside, Walker, and sit down quietly in the corner.' Toby obeyed, all aggression suddenly gone, and now Bishop moved forward, glancing down at her. 'Didn't your mother tell you that rough games get out of hand? Too much excitement always ends in tears, you know.'
'It wasn't a game! He… '
'Lost your sense of humour? I didn't honestly think it was a game. Neither of you looks as though you've had any fun at all! Come on, let's just drape it round that shoulder.'
She cringed inwardly at his touch, not because he hurt her—he was amazingly careful and caused no pain at all—but because he made her skin crawl. He'd saved her life, and hopefully the baby's too, yet she couldn't feel grateful. He was enjoying himself far too much for her to feel anything but increased dislike.
'Not even a thank you?' he queried, plucking a cordless phone out of his coat pocket. 'I might be quite hurt by that, if it weren't for the fact that you're obviously in a state of shock.'
'Why you?' she asked in confusion. 'Why is it always you?' 'Always? We scarcely know each other! Steve, bring the car round and take her to the hospital. They're expecting her. Ask for Dr Cooper and get him to have a gynaecologist come over too. There's a chance she might be losing our friend Toby's claim to immortality!' 'Who's Steve?' murmured Lisa, terrified it might be another friend of Toby's.
'A nice lad. He'll be very kind to you. He'll probably hold your hand if you ask him. I'd come myself but I want to talk to lover boy here. Walker, let Steve in when he arrives.'
The dull ache in Lisa's stomach was beginning to turn into a sharper, more ominous pain and she tried to wrap her arms round her abdomen until the injury brought her up short and she cried out again.
'Shoulder?' asked Bishop casually. 'Don't worry, they'll soon fix that up.'
'No, it's… '
'The baby? Probably for the best, don't you think? Shouldn't imagine you want a permanent reminder of this marriage. I'm sure there'll be other children, unless you're irreparably damaged of course!' And he gave her a smile that was more frightening than any of Toby's blows.
'You bastard!' she cried. 'You're enjoying all this, aren't you?' 'Not at all, but I admit it's diverting. Ah, here comes the cavalry!' Steve was tall, well built and extremely kind. He carried her out of the flat, laid her carefully on the back seat of the car, then got in beside her, letting her head rest on his knees while another man, silent and totally lacking in curiosity, drove them through the streets of Battersea and into London.
Now and again, Lisa couldn't help crying out. Her arm was on fire with pain and her stomach felt as though there were hot pokers sticking into it. Steve stroked her forehead as he murmured encouragement, and she would be forever grateful to him for helping her keep her self-control.
Once at the hospital things happened with lightning speed. A young, fresh-faced doctor, after one look at her, took out a needle. She tried to push him away, terrified of losing consciousness and probably the baby as well, but he gently held her down on the trolley and the last thing she heard was his voice telling her that she was going to be all right. She didn't believe him.
Chapter Six
For a few days it seemed that Lisa was right and the doctor wrong. But then, as she continued resting in the luxurious, deeply-carpeted private room with its pale lilac walls and snow-white curtains and bedspread, the bleeding stopped and finally the gynaecologist professed himself satisfied that the baby was safe and well.
'How can you be sure it isn't hurt?' asked Lisa anxiously. 'What if it's got brain damage?'
'Babies are well protected,' he assured her. 'Besides, we've done a scan. The baby's fine and so are you.'
'When can I go home?' she asked, and then wondered where home was.
'I'm afraid there's no question of you going anywhere at all until after the baby's born. You've been through a traumatic experience and need rest and quiet. As I understand it, you're homeless at the moment. Where could you possibly go that would offer you more peace than here?' He smiled his very expensive smile.
'Well, it's true that I… '
'Precisely! Now I must be on my way. I'll look in tomorrow if not before. Dr Cooper tells me the arm's coming along nicely too.'
'Mr Heywood, who's paying for me to stay here?'
'I understood it was a family friend. I'm afraid I don't… ' He was obviously embarrassed.
'I'll speak to one of the nurses,' she said quickly.
'Just relax, Mrs Walker. Money is fortunately not one of your problems at the moment, but tranquility is. Stop worrying and rest. The baby needs all the rest you can give it for these final few weeks.' Of course he was right, but since she never had a visitor and up to now hadn't been allowed a television in the room in case she became overstimulated, her mind had nothing better to do than worry away at the problem.
It wouldn't be Toby. He didn't have that kind of money. His own private treatment was paid for by the television company; and it certainly wasn't Stephanie, who hadn't so much as sent her a get well card. Who else was there? she wondered.
It bothered her, and at night she stayed awake worrying despite the mild sleeping pill they allowed her. After three sleepless nights, Dr Cooper came to see her. 'Sleeping badly I understand, Mrs Walker. Why's that? Pain from the arm?'
'No.'
'Worrying about the baby?' 'No, I… '
'Afraid we might let your husband in to see you? We won't, you know, not under any circumstances, although he does ring up each morning.’
'Big deal! No, I… '
'How about a psychiatrist to teach you to relax and forget all the trauma of the past months. Would you like that?'
'Not particularly. How much does a psychiatrist cost?' 'Cost?' He looked as horrified as if she'd sworn at him.
'Yes. I don't understand how I can afford to stay here. That's what's keeping me awake at nights. I don't need a psychiatrist, he'll only add to the worry! Why won't anyone tell me who's paying for all this? '
'You should have asked me before. It's your godfather.' 'My what?' She couldn't believe her ears.
'Godfather. I must say you're a lucky girl to have… However, he's naturally anxious that you get the best treatment and… '
'I don't have a godfather.' 'Everyone has a godfather!'
'Not if they haven't been christened.' 'You weren't christened?'
'Yes, of course I was. I was simply pointing out that not everyone does have a godfather.'
He gave a polite laugh. 'I see. Well, that's your worry solved. I'll prescribe a little sedative for tonight I think.'
'Look, my godfather died in a road accident when I was twelve.' 'Just to make sure you sleep properly,' he continued firmly, his face flushed.
'Who the hell is paying for all this?' shouted Lisa angrily, and before she knew what was happening, one of the nurses was holding her gently down and the doctor was injecting her. She was still asking the same question when she fell asleep.
It was three hours before she awoke, her mouth feeling thick and dry. She tried to sit up to reach her water jug but her arm stabbed a reminder of its injury and she gave an exclamation of pain. It was only then that the man waiting in the corner approached the bed. 'Did you want something?' he asked gently, his voice deep and calm. She recognised him from a long time back, but couldn't place when or put a name to him.
'A drink, please. They put me out and I'm very thirsty.'
He poured her some squash, holding the glass while she drank through a straw because her mouth still hurt from one of Toby's blows and a straw made it easier.
'You don't remember me, I assume?' said the man after a short but not awkward silence.
'Yes,
you came to see Simon once. It was a long time ago.'
'Quite a long time, and a lot of water's flowed under the bridge since then, not all of it crystal clear either!'
She remembered Roger and her eyes shadowed. Immediately he wished the words unsaid. 'You were the man in the library,' she murmured. 'Your wife had just given you a third daughter and you weren't pleased.'
He raised his eyebrows. 'I wasn't? That must have been Rebekah. She's a quiet little thing, no trouble at all.' 'Still no sons?'
'I'm afraid not. I was sorry about your father.'
Lisa settled herself against the pillows. She didn't feel in the least tense in this man's company. There was something solid and comforting about him. His presence was strangely reassuring considering they scarcely knew each other. 'I didn't appreciate him when he was alive, but he was a good man.'
'I'm sure he was.'
'The police don't seem to think so.'
He chuckled. 'There's good and there's "good". The police have different interpretations of such matters. Do you remember my name?'
'I'm sorry, it seems to have vanished from my mind.' 'Neal Gueras.'
'Of course! You used to ring Simon up now and again. He often spoke about you.'
'Then you'll understand why I felt compelled to make sure you were properly looked after.'
Lisa looked thoughtfully at him. 'You mean you’re paying for all this?'
'Yes.'
'How did you know that I was hurt?'
'It made some of our more sensational papers.'
'Not the instant it happened! I was brought straight here. I remember Bishop saying I was to be taken to a private hospital at once. Do you know Bishop?' she added, apparently casually.
‘Certainly. Once he realised who you were he very sensibly took it upon himself to ensure you had the best treatment available.'
'Why was he there that night?' 'Business with your husband, I think.' ‘That was lucky!'
'Quite. Presumably you'll want a divorce as quickly and quietly as possible?'
Betrayal Page 7