by Shaw, O. C
“I wanted to warn you,” I explain, “I don’t know how Greg will be, but I told him I was with you. I don’t want you to get sucked in to any nastiness. I just wanted you to be prepared. You know how he is.” She just nods at that, her face sad.
“Don’t worry about me,” she says confidently, “I’ve got Phil. More to the point, what are you going to do? You can’t go back there.”
“I have to.”
“You have to be joking, Lil, he’s going to go mental.”
“I have to explain it to him. I have to let him know I’m leaving him, but not for another man. He needs to know; I owe him that much.”
She doesn’t agree and tells me so. “I’m scared for you, Lily. I don’t think he’s just going to sit there and listen to you tell him you’re leaving and then watch you walk out the door. He’s too possessive about you already; it’s only got worse over the years. There’s no way he’s going to hear anything you say except that you’ve been seeing another man behind his back, and he’s going to be batshit angry. What does James say about it?”
“What can he say? It’s my marriage, not his. He’s worried about me, of course, but I told him I’d call him when I was settled.”
“And he’s okay with that? You going off, I mean, to stay somewhere after walking out on your marriage? He hasn’t asked you to stay with him?”
“No,” I say defensively, “that was never the deal. It’s too soon for us to live together.”
“Okay, I’d get that if you were just leaving Greg in a controlled way like you planned and had already sorted out the place you were renting, but this is all so sudden. Surely he should be supporting you a bit more?”
“I can’t think about that now,” I say, on the defensive again, although something about what she’s saying does touch upon some of my internal anxieties. I squash the thoughts down. “I just have to get through the next few hours with Greg, and then we can all move on. I know it’s going to be shit for everyone, and I so wish I could have held off doing it until after Christmas, but the situation’s the same as it was when I spoke about it in the pub the other night. I was already planning to leave Greg because our relationship died a long time ago. Hopefully he’ll see the truth in that, and we can both move forward with our lives.”
Emma nods, but her face looks doubtful. “Well, don’t worry about me,” she says, “I won’t take any shit from him, and you just make sure you look after yourself. Look, Lil,” she says, thinking out loud, “why don’t you stay in my spare room tonight? Until you get yourself sorted with somewhere, I mean. I can’t stand to think of you in some dingy B&B somewhere over Christmas.”
“Are you sure you don’t need to speak to Phil first? I don’t want to bring all my shit into your home when you’re so close to having the baby and all.”
“Phil will be fine, Lil, I want you here so I know you’re alright.” I blink and realise I have yet more tears spilling down my face due to her unexpected kindness. I hadn’t been looking forward to being on my own over Christmas.
“I thank God for the day I met you, Emma. I don’t know what I did to deserve a friend like you. I certainly don’t know what I’d do without you,” I tell her with feeling. We hug again, and she wipes my tears away with a tissue before telling me to bring my bag in from the car and leave it here for later.
About an hour and a half later, after a cup of tea and much circular conversation which ends with Emma still worrying that I should stay away for today and see Greg on another day, when she figures he’s likely to be calmer, I climb into my car, promising I won’t be long and that I’ll text her to let her know I’m on my way back. I haven’t heard anything from James since we left the hotel, but then I didn’t really expect to, despite checking my phone constantly. I drive the short distance to the house and am surprised to see the hire van is already parked on the driveway. He’s already back. It must mean he’s driven like a bat out of hell to get home. My stomach sinks. I leave the car parked on the road, grab my bag and walk to the door, rummaging for my keys as I go. When I let myself in, the house is completely silent. At first I think Greg must be in the shed because the house is so quiet, but when I walk into the kitchen I am confronted with Greg sitting at the table, slumped over with his head in his hands. He looks up as I walk in, and his eyes are bloodshot. I can tell he’s been crying.
“You’re back,” he says, looking up at me, his lip curling as he says it. “Ethan called,” he says, and then he waits for me to say something. I am momentarily at a loss for words. All the planning I have done in my head to prepare for this moment flies out the window when I am confronted with the broken man in front of me.
“Greg, I’m so sorry,” I start to say, moving towards him to touch him, my way of offering comfort.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” he says with a snarl, jerking away. It reminds me so much of Ethan last night.
“I’m sorry,” I say again. I seem to have forgotten the speech I had prepared.
“So you keep saying,” he says in the cruel tone he sometimes uses that I hate. “Ethan tells me you were fucking that bloke from the gallery, James. How long’s it been going on?” he demands.
“Not long,” I mumble, unwilling to let the discussion focus on my relationship with James. “We’ve been broken for a long time you and I,” I try to tell him.
“So that means it’s okay for you to go off and fuck someone else, does it?”
“Our marriage is over, Greg.”
“You’re leaving me for him?” He sounds genuinely shocked, like he hadn’t considered I might actually leave him.
“I’m not leaving you for him, I’m just leaving you, leaving this marriage. I can’t do this anymore. I think it’ll be better for both of us to part and lead our own lives.”
“Is it because he’s rich?” he says derisively.
“I am not leaving you to set up with James.” I say, getting angry at the repetitious nature of his questions. “I’m sorry I was unfaithful to you, and I’m even sorrier Ethan got caught up in this, but the truth is that, with or without James, this marriage was still over. I’m going to find a place to rent for a bit while we get things sorted,” I say moving to walk out of the kitchen.
“Don’t you fucking walk out on me,” he bellows, and I freeze in the doorway, unsure what to do next. I start to move again, I want to go upstairs and pack a bag to take with me to Emma’s, but he’s up and grabbing my arm, pulling me back into the room. “I said don’t fucking walk away from me.” His voice is low and sinister now.
“Greg, don’t do this,” I plead.
“Don’t do what, Lily? Don’t let you walk out of our marriage after eighteen years, don’t let you fuck up our family, don’t let you fuck another man? What is it you don’t want me to do?” he yells in my face. “Did you really expect me to sit here like some pussy while you told me you were leaving to go and fuck some rich prick who’ll no doubt cast you out once his dick’s had its fill of you? Did you think I’d just wish you well? You’ve treated me like a complete fool. Tell me how long it’s been going on!” His skin is bright red now, and he’s shouting in my face; little specks of his spittle keep landing on me. I can feel yet more tears falling down my face now.
“We met in the Peaks,” I tell him finally.
“The fucking Peaks, I might have known,” he says, rolling his eyes. “And how many others have there been? How many other men have you fucked while we’ve been together?” That shocks an angry response from me.
“None, there’s been no one else, only you. I’ve looked after the kids, and the house, and you, and nothing else for the last eighteen years. There has never been anyone else, only you – until James. Now the kids are older, you’ve got your art, and I want my life back.”
“I don’t believe you,” he says, and I realise he’s losing it. There is no reasoning with him now. He’s demented, convinced I’ve been sleeping around with numerous men behind his back. I need to get out; we both need space to cool do
wn. I pull my arm free and move to leave the room.
“I said don’t fucking walk away from me,” he bellows, grabbing me with one hand, while his other arm swings and gives me a backhander across the side of my face.
I am stunned for a second as pain explodes in my head. He’s still shouting at me, “I think you’re a fucking slag who has been fucking anything and everything she can. Ethan’s girlfriend told him how you were putting it out with all the men on the trip. You don’t give a fuck who you’re with, do you?” he says. “You’re just a cheap tart.”
I’m still holding my face and trying to pull away from him when I feel him push me hard so that I careen into the doorframe. I feel something crack in my chest, and more pain hits me like a wave.
“Please, Greg,” I plead, the pain in my chest making my voice come out as a whisper.
“Oh you want it from me now, do you?”
“No,” I say, horrified. But he’s not listening to me, not hearing what I say as I plead with him to stop. He pushes me to the ground onto my back, making me bang my head again, but somehow I have enough awareness to try and move away from him, my feet kicking out at his body, trying to drag my body away from him with the backs of my elbows. But he’s stronger than me. He lashes out again to stop me kicking him and catches my eye with his fist this time. I think I lose consciousness for a few moments. When I regain my awareness he has my jeans and panties off, and his body is over mine. His arm is pressed over my throat, making it hard to breathe.
“No!” I say weakly, “stop, please stop,” but he doesn’t. He forces himself inside me, his body thrusting into me hard, and he’s grunting with his eyes shut tight. My body is screaming with the pain of his relentless assault, but my mind has switched off now. I’ve stopped fighting him, knowing I can’t win this fight. I have to just wait until it’s over now. And eventually it is. Eventually he comes, and then pulls out of me, standing there looking at me sobbing in a heap on the floor, in front of him, while he covers himself up again, before stepping over me and walking down the hall and out the front door. I try to move myself now he’s gone, but the pain is just too much, and I lay my head down again and allow myself to fall into blissful unconsciousness.
Chapter 32
When I wake up I have no idea where I am. The room is white and bright, and it hurts my eyes. I try to move, but my body hurts too much, and I just groan with the effort.
“Lily, you’re awake,” I hear Emma cry beside me. She leans over me, her face looking so worried. I want to reassure her I’m fine, tell her not to worry, that it’s not good for the baby, but I can’t seem to speak and my throat hurts. “Don’t speak, baby, you’re fine,” she croons, “it’s all fine now,” and I close my eyes and allow myself to drift back to blissful oblivion.
The second time I wake I am alone. I feel more with it this time, but that means memories of Greg and the fight come flooding back, and I start to cry. A nurse comes into the room and sees I’m awake, rushing over to check if I’m in pain. She gives me some pain relief and tells me she’ll fetch the doctor, but all the while she’s there and after she leaves I can’t stop the tears that are flowing down my face. I wonder absently if I will ever stop crying.
Eventually an older female doctor with blonde hair streaked with silver enters the room and moves to the chair beside the bed.
“Welcome back to us, Mrs Lambert. I’m Dr Brown, and I’ve been taking care of you since you came in yesterday. We’re very happy to see you awake again. Did the nurse give you some pain relief?”
“Yes,” I whisper, unable to get more from my throat. “Where am I?”
“You’re at the hospital,” she informs me. “You’ve been hurt quite badly, I’m afraid.” I nod to show I understand while she continues. “You have two cracked ribs, a fractured cheekbone and a serious concussion, along with a fair bit of other bruising, including some crushing to your windpipe. That’s why you’ll find it difficult to speak for a while. Fortunately we don’t think there is any other internal damage. You’ve been unconscious for nearly a day; your friends have been quite worried about you.” Emma, I think.
“Mrs Lambert,” she continues, looking serious, “I’m sorry to say that, as part of the examination when you were brought in, we also found significant evidence of a serious sexual assault. We have had to inform the police, and they will want to speak to you when you are feeling a bit better. Do you have any idea who did this to you?” I just blink at her for a moment. I wish my head were clearer so I could think what to say. Greg is the father of my boys. Whatever he has done to me, however wrong it is, I cannot put them through the horror of watching their father defend himself against criminal proceedings. Not when it’s my fault we’re in this position in the first place. If I hadn’t slept with James, made him so angry when I told him I was leaving, then none of this would have happened.
“I fell,” I whisper, and I move my head to look away from her and at the window instead, unwilling to look her in the face and see the disappointment I know will be clear in her expression.
“Very well, Mrs Lambert,” she says eventually, “we can talk about this again later when you’re feeling a bit better.” I can tell she disapproves of my decision to protect him. She doesn’t understand – no one can who hasn’t walked in my shoes for the last few days.
I hear her pause when she reaches the door, her hand on the handle. “I’ll tell your friends they can come in and see you now,” and she smiles gently at me, more forgiving of me than I feel I deserve, to be honest, before she closes the door quietly behind her with a soft click.
I am alone for a few moments until the door opens again, and this time Emma puts her head in.
“Lily, thank God,” she says, moving quickly to my side. “You had us so worried,” she says.
“Don’t worry. It’s not good for the baby,” I say, trying to sit up, but it hurts to move, so in the end Emma uses the remote to raise the bed electronically until I am more upright. I look at her then and ask: “How did I get here?” I’ve been wondering what happened after the fight.
“When you didn’t text me I got worried. I called Annie and got her to contact James to see if he had heard from you, and no one had. I called and called your phone, but there was never a reply, so I came round to yours. When I saw the car there I got really worried, so I called the police and they knocked your front door down. The neighbours told them they’d heard some shouting and screaming, so we were terrified what we might find.” She pauses for a second, her eyes full of tears. “I thought you were dead, Lil. You were just lying there on the floor, and you looked so small and broken.” She sobs a little, and I take her hand.
“I’m sorry,” I say, “for worrying you.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for; it’s Greg who should be sorry. He should be locked away for this,” she says angrily. “James wanted to kill him, and I only just managed to stop him going out to find him when he saw the state you were in by telling him you needed him here more. He’s just popped home for five minutes to shower and get some fresh clothes, but he’s been here by your side for the last day.”
James has been here, and a small part of me, not devastated by the turn of events, is happy he cared enough to come and see me. “No one’s seen Greg,” Emma continues. “The police have been looking for him, but he isn’t anywhere he usually hangs out. Ethan came by, but he didn’t want to see you. I think he feels bad about what’s happened, and he wanted to know you were going to be okay.”
“He has nothing to feel bad for. Please tell him so from me if he comes back.”
“I will, Lil. You just need to get better. They said you’ll be in for a couple of days or so, but then you can come home.”
Home. I wonder where that is? I think. I need to find somewhere.
“James seems to think you’ll be going back to his, but I keep telling him you’re staying with me.” James thinks I’m staying with him?! I can’t believe it.
“Emma, you’ve got to g
et ready for the baby. You don’t need an invalid to take care of,” I whisper, my throat at the limit of its ability for now.
“Lily, we’ll talk about this when you’re a bit better,” she fobs me off. “You look tired. Get some sleep now; we’ll look after you,” she assures me. I nod and squeeze her hand. I am tired again, so I close my eyes and drift off back to sleep.
When I wake the next time, the first thing I see is a pair of beautiful blue eyes gazing intently at my face. He looks so worried, and I immediately want to reassure him I’m okay, so I reach out and squeeze his hand, and he smiles and raises my hand to his lips.
“Hi,” he says.
“Hi,” I whisper back, my throat still husky. He frowns when he hears it.
“I thought I’d lost you, Lil. When Emma rang to tell me what he’d done, I thought you were dead. It was the worst moment of my life. I want to kill him,” he says angrily.
“No,” I say, “it’s over now. He knows it, and so do I. I don’t want the boys dragged through anything more. I won’t press charges,” I say, knowing he needs to know the truth sooner rather than later.
“He deserves to be punished, though,” he says, the shock clear on his face. “I know what he did to you. I heard the doctors talking. He raped you,” he whispers, and his agony at the knowledge is there for all to see. A tear runs down my face, I seem unable to stop crying. “What if he does it to someone else? Could you live with that?” It’s a horrible thought, but I don’t think he will. He was just so angry with me and what I’d done and the fact I was leaving him.
“I can’t hurt the boys any more than I already have.” That’s my only concern now, I decide. I’m not important in the scheme of things. Greg knows what he did, and he will have to live with that every day from now on for the rest of his life, and in a fucked up way he’s done me a favour. I can leave him now and feel no remorse whatsoever. He has finally given me my freedom.