The Runaway Wife

by Rowan Coleman

  Despite the pain that seared down her neck, Rose brought her gaze up to meet his.

  “You are pathetic,” she told him, quietly defiant, finding a will to fight him that she didn’t know she had. “Nothing more than a bully. I’m done being frightened of you, Richard. You bore me.”

  “You are my wife,” Richard said, fury twisting his face as he pushed her hard into the wall, pinning her shoulder with one hand, and pulling at the buttons of her jeans with the other, dragging the waistband down over her hips. “And I think it’s about time I reminded you of that. I’ve missed you, Rose.”

  “No!” Rose shouted, using every scrap of strength she had to push him backwards with just enough force to break his grip on her for a few moments. She twisted herself away from him, pulling up her jeans, as she raced for the closed door. But Richard grabbed her arm before she could make it, throwing her, sprawling, onto the hard concrete floor. Rose felt the back of her head reverberate with the pain on contact, as he stood over her, his image blurring before her eyes.

  Do not pass out, she told herself furiously. Do not pass out!

  “You are my wife,” Richard repeated as he knelt down between her legs. “You belong to me.”

  Furiously, Rose pushed against his weight as he lay on top of her, one arm pinned across her throat, pressing hard against her windpipe, the other dragging down her jeans once more, until she could feel the cold, rough floor rasp against her skin.

  Unable to talk, barely able to breathe, Rose struggled for as long as she could, until it hit her with a sudden cold clarity that she could not win this fight. If she kept trying to push him off, he would only hurt her more, perhaps more than her body could bear, and even though in those last few seconds before Richard got what he wanted, death seemed like a haven, Rose could not allow it to happen. She knew she must do whatever it took to survive.

  Turning her head away from him as she ceased to struggle, she fixed her eyes on the wall, where once she had stood and gazed at one of her father’s beautiful paintings. And she tried with all her might to recall it in every detail, every brushstroke, every color, to free herself from shame, the knowledge that no matter how her heart and mind might be strong enough to repel him, her body never would be, and that was why he would always win.

  “Good girl,” Richard said, relieving the pressure on her throat a little. “See how nice things can be when you only do as you are—”

  “Get up.” Rose heard a familiar voice echoing inside her head as if from very far away, and she wondered if she was imagining it. “Pull up your trousers and get up, I said, you disgusting piece of filth.”

  Turning her head with some force of will, Rose saw Jenny standing in the doorway of the room, her hands on her hips. As clouded as her vision was, Rose could tell that Jenny’s face was white with horror, and there was fear there too, uncertainty that she could really do anything to help. Seizing the moment of distraction as Richard sat up to examine this intruder, Rose dragged herself painfully as far away from him as she could, pulling her disheveled clothes back on.

  “Get out,” Richard told Jenny, his eyes glittering with contempt. “She is my wife and this is none of your business.”

  “She is my friend,” Jenny said, her voice finding strength and volume with every word. “My friend, and I won’t have the likes of you pawing her. Where’s your self-respect, where’s your manhood?”

  If Jenny was attempting to bait Richard away from Rose, she was doing a good job, as Richard clambered to his feet, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth as he steadied himself, his attention fixed on this interfering woman.

  Dizzy and sick, her head clamoring with pain, Rose used the wall to help herself climb to her feet, taking a couple of unsteady steps forward, intent on getting to Jenny, on getting to the exit.

  “I’ve called the police,” Jenny said, keeping her eyes on Richard, focusing his attention on her. “They’ll be here any minute. And do you want to know why? Your daughter. She phoned me. She told me that the father who had hit her was up here at Storm Cottage. Your daughter asked me to call the police. What kind of man are you?”

  She spat the words with such naked contempt that for a moment Richard was caught off guard, unused to strangers seeing his true colors. Then, realizing himself exposed anyway, and with nothing to lose, the old fury caught light, and Rose gasped as he flew at Jenny, hearing her friend cry out as he raised his fist to strike her.

  It was only after it had happened that Rose could make sense of it. One moment Richard had been poised to hurt her friend, the next he was sprawled prone on the floor and Rose was standing over him, a length of wood in her hand, the sirens that had been sounding in the distance growing steadily louder.

  Rose and Jenny stared at each other across Richard, who rolled onto his back, groaning.

  Rose blinked at the image that was gradually coming into focus, searching for reason in the confusion of shadows and flashes of light.

  “You clocked him good and proper,” Jenny said, her eyes wide.

  “Maddie?” Rose managed to ask her, swaying dangerously on her feet, the wood clattering to the floor as her fingers lost the ability to grip.

  “Inside. She’s safe,” Jenny said.

  “You came,” Rose sobbed, the words tearing out of her throat with a rush of gratitude. “You came.”

  “Yes,” Jenny said, as a policeman entered the room, followed by another, “but it was you who put him in his place.”

  Rose wasn’t really sure about everything that happened next, only that somehow she was seated on the stool in her father’s studio, a concerned young police officer holding some gauze to her head and reassuring her that everything was going to be all right. Scanning the room, Rose saw her husband being escorted away by another officer, who had a firm grip on his arm.

  “I’ll be in touch,” he said, stiffly, desperate to regain his composure. “This isn’t over. I’ll be having you charged with assault.”

  Before Rose could shape a response to this, Jenny cut in with a mirthless laugh from where she stood at Rose’s side. “You’ll be charging her? I don’t think so. This time you’ve gone too far, son. Ever tried being a GP with a criminal record?”

  Rose didn’t allow herself to breathe until Richard was out of sight. Only then did her knees buckle, her body trembling uncontrollably as she slid off the stool and sank back down onto the floor.

  “I’ve called an ambulance,” the police officer said, kneeling beside her. “Just hold on a minute more.”

  “No.” Rose’s voice shook, but she was adamant. “I’m not going anywhere. My dad is sick.”

  “I think we’ll let them take a look at you, anyway,” he said, examining the graze on her cheek.

  “I’m fine, really,” Rose insisted just as the barn swirled around her and all the lights blinked out at once.

  • • •

  “I’m not going to hospital,” Rose insisted as soon as she came to again, certain that, despite the sharp pain in her neck and blurred edges that still surrounded her vision, she didn’t want to see the inside of a hospital ever again. “I’m fine.”

  “Hmm.” The female paramedic who had arrived shortly after Richard had been escorted by a policeman into another ambulance, shone a light in her eyes. “Well, I can’t make you come with me, if you don’t want to.”

  She glanced up at Jenny. “Keep an eye out for signs of concussion. If she’s sick or incoherent, take her to hospital immediately. And let the police take their photos and a statement. Make sure this goes on record, at the very least.”

  “That’s what I said,” Jenny said, peering at Rose, who was propped, much to her shame, against a barrage of cushions on the sofa, her father sitting in his armchair, staring anxiously at her. “But she won’t have it.”

  “I’m fine,” Rose said. “Really. I’m just glad it’s over.”

  “It’s not that over,” the young policeman, PC Brig, said uncomfortably. “Your husband is saying you assa
ulted him, that it was unprovoked.”

  “Well, that’s a wicked lie!” Jenny insisted immediately. “I was there, I saw it. I’m a witness!”

  “Which is why you need to let us take statements, collect evidence. I strongly advise that you press charges.”

  “Talk to them,” the paramedic said kindly. “You should at least put what happened on record, even if you don’t want to take it further. I see this all the time, too much: the woman just wants it all to go away, the man ends up getting it all his own way. Show him now that you mean business, otherwise he’ll just keep coming.”

  Rose glanced over at Maddie, who was sitting on the arm of John’s chair, her arm around his neck. She had yet to approach Rose, as if she was scared of touching her. Instead she sat staring, no doubt trying to take in what had happened, what her father had done now. These were conversations that Rose did not want her daughter to hear; she’d been through enough today.

  “I will,” Rose promised, looking at PC Brig. “But not now, please. My little girl . . . I am fine, honestly.” She turned to John. “I’m so sorry, this is the last thing you need now.”

  “If I could have got out of bed . . .” John said, his face set with fury. “I felt so weak, so useless. Maddie was the one who knew what to do. Maddie called for help.”

  Maddie said nothing, still staring at her mother as if she were trying to take it all in. Rose held out her arms to her, but Maddie stayed where she was.

  “Thank you,” Rose said to Jenny. “For everything you’ve done for us. Since we got here, I mean, not just today. But really, thank you for coming, especially when . . . well, after what happened. If you hadn’t come . . . I really do thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

  “Hmph,” Jenny said, pursing her lips. “Never could stand a bully.”

  “Hello?”

  Rose looked up to see Ted’s head appearing round the front door, his expression a combination of shock at the drama, the number of official personnel, and embarrassment. He clearly wasn’t too sure how Rose would take to seeing him, and honestly neither was she.

  “I just got your message, Mum, I’m sorry.” He looked at Rose. “Can I come in?”

  Rose nodded, dropping her gaze as he came into the room, just as the paramedic was packing up her bag.

  “Here comes the cavalry,” Jenny said, “about an hour too late. Still, never mind.”

  “It was on silent!” Ted said guiltily, unable to look at Rose. “Did you call Dad?”

  “Yes, and his was on silent too, no doubt,” Jenny said. “Doesn’t matter. We handled it, didn’t we, love?”

  Rose nodded, still unable to believe that she had somehow found the physical strength to lay Richard out on the floor. She glanced at Maddie, wondering if she knew what Rose had done, and that was why she was reluctant to come to her. What if Maddie was afraid of her too?

  “He was about to hit me—me, your mother—and this one”—Jenny pointed at Rose—“she just picked up this massive lump of timber like it was a matchstick and—”

  “Jenny,” Rose said, nodding at Maddie.

  “Here, Maddie,” Ted said, fishing his car keys out of his jeans pocket. “Go to my car and look in the glove compartment. I’m pretty sure there’s a Mars bar there. You can have it if you want.”

  “Thanks,” Maddie said, taking the keys without enthusiasm and then handing them back to Ted. “I don’t really like Mars bars, but I don’t mind going upstairs for a bit and looking at my book if you want to talk about things without me.”

  “Oh, Maddie,” Rose said, trying to sit up and then regretting the impulse as the room swam around her, annoyed that Ted was trying to manage a situation he’d had nothing to do with, “you don’t have to go anywhere if you don’t want to.”

  “I do want to,” Maddie said, sliding off the kitchen chair. “I’m tired.”

  “Maddie?” Rose stopped her. “Are you OK? Everything that’s happened, it’s a lot to take in.”

  Maddie eyed her for a moment longer. “I’m fine,” she said.

  Rose watched anxiously as she clumped slowly up the stairs, her head bowed heavily.

  “I’ll go up,” Jenny said. “Keep the little mite company for a bit. She might chat to me.”

  “We’d like a word too,” PC Brig said, catching Rose’s expression. “Not now, when she’s ready. Just need to get all the angles.”

  “Right,” the paramedic said. “I’ve got to go. But I’m serious, if it gets worse, go to hospital. And don’t let whoever did this to you get away with it.”

  “Thank you,” Rose said painfully. “I appreciate your help.”

  “I could sort him out for you.” Ted paced behind the sofa. “I could, you know, have a proper word. With my fists.”

  “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” the policeman said. “Look, if the hospital lets him go, there’s not much chance we’ll be able to hold him tonight. I don’t think he’ll come back here—he’s not an idiot, he’s already trying to make out he’s the victim—but just keep an eye out, OK?”

  Ted saw them out while John and his daughter gazed at each other across the small space between their chairs, their expressions mirroring one another as they took in the full extent of each other’s injuries and ailments.

  “I’m not the one who’s ill,” Rose said brightly, unable to bear to look on her father’s face. “This is so silly. There really is no need for all this fuss.”

  “I did this to you,” John said. “It was my neglect that pushed you into the arms of a man who would . . .” he faltered, unable to say the next words out loud. “I can’t bear it. I can’t bear that I put you through this.”

  Rose watched him silently for a moment, wishing she could say that none of this was his fault, but she couldn’t find a way to do that, not even for this man whom she had slowly begun to love again.

  “I don’t suppose I would have got married at eighteen if I’d had parents around,” she said slowly. “But this is my life, Dad, and it was my choice to marry Richard. I knew, somewhere, in some tiny part of me, right from the start, that something wasn’t right with me and Richard. It was just that I had nothing to compare it to, and to be honest I didn’t want to listen to those doubts. I wanted to be married, I wanted to be in a family, I wanted to be safe. And I could have left him. There were a hundred times I could have left him and didn’t because . . . I didn’t have the courage.” Her voice broke as the realization of what she had so narrowly escaped broke over her. “Not even today. I thought I was strong now and I was free. But I wasn’t. I gave up. I gave up fighting him off, and if Jenny hadn’t come he would have . . . In those few seconds I was willing to go back to how everything had been just to save myself. I wasn’t brave at all.”

  “You are a remarkable young woman,” John said, his jaw set. “More brave than anyone in this room.”

  “Then why don’t I feel it?” Rose wept into her hands, her tears hot and painful. “Why do I feel like he’s won, again?”

  “Rose.” Ted crouched down before her, touching her arm, which she withdrew with a flinch, unable to look at him. Ted stared at his spurned hand and then, seeing the expression of stony disapproval on John’s face, stood up, backing away to what seemed like a safe distance.

  “I need to say how sorry I am,” Ted said unhappily, looking anywhere but at Rose. “How really, really sorry I am for the way I behaved, the things I said, the way I tried to . . .” He faltered, remembering how he’d tried to make Rose kiss him, only now realizing exactly why she’d been so repulsed by his clumsy advances. “I’m not like him, Rose. You do know that, don’t you? I was hurt and stupid and wrong and a liar, but I would never . . . I’m not like him, and I’m so, so sorry.”

  “Sorry for what?” John asked, determined to be the one to step in this time.

  “Nothing much,” Rose said sharply. “Something that got blown out of proportion.” Finally Rose looked at Ted. “I know you are not like him,” she said. “You frightened m
e, though, Ted, and you lied about me. You were the first man I’d met in a long time that I thought I could trust, and you lied about me.”

  “I hate myself,” Ted said miserably. “I do.”

  “I can see that,” Rose said, her will to be angry at Ted in the midst of everything else crumbling easily away. She looked at him. “It wasn’t all your fault, and really I’d rather just forget about it, if that’s OK?”

  “Thank you,” Ted said, and then seeing John glowering at him added, “Look, you might not like this idea, and I know the last time I saw you I behaved like a bit of a dick, but anyway, I’ve decided, and I won’t change my mind. I’m going to stay on the sofa tonight, make sure that you lot are OK, be on standby in case he comes back.”

  Rose was uncertain about having Ted stay the night after everything he’d done, and yet it would be reassuring to have him here. The police officer didn’t think Richard would come back, and a sane man wouldn’t, but Rose wasn’t sure what little, if any, sanity Richard had left.

  “Thank you, it would make me feel better knowing that you are here.”

  “Good,” Ted said, looking relieved to have this chance to make amends. “Great.”

  “What’s this?” Jenny said as she came down the stairs. “What are you planning, Edward?”

  “I’m staying the night, that’s all,” Ted said. “To keep an eye on them.”

  “Well, if you’re staying, I’m staying to keep an eye on you,” Jenny said. “I’ll have the sofa, you can have the chair.”

  “Mum . . .” Ted began to protest.

  “Don’t argue with me, young man, I’ve decided,” Jenny said, crossing her arms.

  “Neither of you has to stay,” John said, clearly resenting this well-meaning invasion of his home. “I can take care of my daughter.”

  “You couldn’t take care of a kitten,” Jenny said with the same characteristic bluntness that fortunately John appreciated. “We’re staying and that is that. I’ll just call my Brian and let him know, else he’ll think I’ve run off with the cowman again.”