Born Bad

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Born Bad Page 31

by Josephine Cox


  As always when he touched her, she began to tremble inside. ‘No reason, only I had a mind to go into town and see how much their sofas were.’ She gestured towards the kitchen. ‘I was just looking at the local paper and Jacobs have a sale on. They’re getting rid of old stock. Some of the stuff is going for less than half. I thought if I got down there early, I might be able to get a cheap sofa.’ And if there was half a chance, she might see Harry. That would be so wonderful.

  ‘What!’ Clambering to his feet he laughed spitefully in her face. ‘Why would we need a new sofa?’ He began bouncing up and down. ‘There’s still a few good years left in this one.’

  Hoping he was not about to be difficult, Judy pointed to the sagging area where he had lain. ‘Well, for one thing that hole is getting bigger, and the pattern has rubbed off the cloth everywhere else. It’s a mess, and I’m ashamed of it. Please, Phil … can’t I just get a new one?’

  ‘Oh, I see. Just like that – we go out and spend a chunk of my hard-earned money, to pay for something we don’t need and don’t want. Have you lost your mind or what?’ As it happened, Phil had a nice little stash put away from his thefts at work. He and the big Scot, McArthy, had covered their tracks well.

  Judy knew the signs. When he was in one of his argumentative moods, there was no reasoning with him. ‘I know how hard you have to work for your money,’ she admitted, ‘but if you could agree this once, it would be money well spent. Take a good look at the sofa, Phil, and you’ll see it’s way past its prime. Your mate gave it to us after he bought his wife a new one, and that was years ago. I’ll admit it’s served us well, but we need to be rid of it now, before it falls apart.’

  ‘It won’t fall apart. It’s made of wood, and likely to survive longer than the two of us put together.’

  Detesting the nearness of him and realising that she had lost the argument, Judy turned away. ‘All right, Phil, it doesn’t matter.’

  ‘Hey! Not so quick.’ Gripping her by the shoulders, he spun her round to face him, his face wreathed in a smile, the kind of smile that spelled trouble. ‘That’s not very nice, is it … turning your back on me like that? Especially when you woke me out of a deep sleep.’

  ‘Sorry.’

  His face crumpled in disgust. ‘Why must you always be sorry?’

  She took a moment, before replying in a small voice, ‘I don’t know, really. I suppose I’m always sorry, because …’ She wanted to say she was sorry because she hated herself for kowtowing to him; and that she hated him for making her afraid; and because he had made her little more than a prisoner, keeping her to himself, and now she had no friends and no one else to turn to. She wanted to tell him how desperately unhappy she was, and that if she had anywhere else to go, she would leave him here and now.

  More than anything else, she longed to tell him that every minute of every day she ached with regret, for being so naïve and trusting in saying yes, when he asked her to marry him.

  She was desperately sorry, because he had turned out to be a bully and a brute. She was sorry that every time he took her to himself, it was with a degree of sadistic savagery that only made her loathing of him all the greater.

  All of that and more, she wanted to shout from the rootftops, but she did not have the courage to face the pain and punishment that would surely follow.

  Slowly but surely, Phil Saunders had turned her into a recluse, a frightened, cowardly creature who continued to put up with him and his domineering ways, because over the years he had systematically taken all the fight out of her.

  That was the sad list of reasons why she was ‘sorry’ – but she would never dare say it out loud. Not if she wanted to go on living.

  Checking her need to yell at him, she gave him a quiet, studied answer. ‘I’m sorry because you won’t let me go out to work, so I can help bring in some money, to get more of the things we need.’

  As soon as she said it, she knew she had made a mistake; her comments were like a red rag to a bull. ‘Phil, I only meant—’

  ‘I know what you meant!’ He pushed his face close to hers, the spittle flying out of his mouth as he raised his voice. ‘Liar! What you really meant was, you don’t think I bring home enough money. You resent me going for a pint on a Friday night, don’t you? Admit it! I’m right, aren’t I?’ Taking hold of her, he shook her hard. ‘ADMIT IT!’

  ‘No, Phil. I didn’t mean that at all.’

  There was no let-up. ‘You’re a barefaced liar! You sulk when I have a pint or a bet on the horses, and you hate me talking to other women. You whine all the time about how we never go anywhere, that you never have enough money for this or that, and now you’re nagging to go out to work, so’s you can eye up other men and get them into your knickers. That’s it, isn’t it? I SAID, ISN’T IT?’

  ‘No, I would never do that … you know I would never do that.’

  ‘LYING COW! I know what you’re up to. Don’t think I haven’t seen you looking at other men when you’ve been out with me. Time and again, I’ve had to forcefully claim what’s rightfully mine, because you would rather give it to some other man. And look at you now, eh? Not satisfied with what I provide, you’re after spending my hard-earned money on a sofa, when we already have a perfectly good one right here. What do you take me for, eh? WHAT THE DEVIL ARE YOU TRYING TO DO TO ME?’

  Dreading what was bound to follow, Judy began trembling. ‘I’m sorry, Phil.’

  ‘Oh, there you go again, with the “Sorry, Phil”,’ he mimicked. ‘Well, I’m sorry too. Sorry that you can’t live peaceably with me, and sorry that you feel I’m not looking after you as a man should.’

  He threw her aside. ‘You make me sick!’

  As she went to claw her way up from the floor, he pushed her down with the knuckle-end of his fist. ‘If you think I will ever let you go out to work, you’d better think again. Your place is here in this house, keeping it clean, having my meal ready when I come home from work, and giving me comfort whenever I need it. You’re my wife! It’s my right. You’re supposed to understand that, for pity’s sake.’

  Hunched on the floor, she merely nodded at his every word. Right now, there was nothing left to say, nothing in her heart to give him.

  ‘Oh, so now it’s the silent treatment, is it?’ Stooping, he stared her in the face. ‘What’s your little game, eh? What are you up to?’

  ‘I’m not up to anything!’ Angry and frustrated, and regardless of what the punishment might be, she found herself yelling back. ‘I’ve told you before, I’m not a liar and I don’t make eyes at other men. All I want is to work and earn money so we can have a new sofa, and curtains. Maybe we could even afford to go on a holiday, or just spend one day at the beach. Or just for once when I see something I like – a pair of shoes or a dress – how lovely it would be to go in and buy it, instead of grovelling to you for money and then waiting until you’re good and ready to give it. Don’t you see? I could take that burden from your shoulders, if I went out to work.’

  Mentally and emotionally drained, she finished lamely, ‘Besides, I get so lonely staying in this place. There’s no one to talk to. The thing is, Phil, I need to be with other people. I find myself doing little things twice over, like wiping down the table, hoovering, or going round the furniture with the polish, and sometimes when I’m really lonely, I might walk down to see Pauline.’

  After keeping the news to herself for too long, she now confessed, ‘Pauline has offered me a job. Nothing much and it won’t pay a fortune. It’s just now and then, helping behind the bar, or cleaning the tables, or whatever else I want to do.’

  ‘Oh, did she now?’ With an animal-like growl, Phil flattened the palm of his hand and brought it hard across the side of her face, with such force that she fell into the wall. ‘So! The pair of you have been plotting, have you? Well, you can tell her from me, your place is here, at home where you belong!’

  Grabbing a hank of her hair he jolted her up, roughly steadying her when she seemed to slump in his ar
ms. ‘Did you hear that? Shall I say it again? I will never let you work behind a bar … with men leering at you.’

  Digging his fingertips under her chin he forced her to look at him, his face a picture of evil as he promised in a harsh whisper, ‘I’d rather finish you here and now, than let you do that.’

  Throwing her down again, he watched her for what seemed an age, his face dripping with sweat and his fists clenching and unclenching as he fought with his demons. Mesmerised, he watched the blood from her nose trickling onto the frayed cloth beneath her head. He saw her squirming and sobbing, and his heart was hard like iron.

  As though in a trance he began swaying. ‘Whore!’ He said it over and over again. ‘You whore …’

  When, growing silent, she peered up at him, his moment of lunacy began to subside.

  ‘Oh, my Judy.’ He fell to his knees and stroked her face, holding her as she began to tremble uncontrollably, her arms folded across her head as though ready to fend off possible blows.

  ‘Judy.’ He wrapped his two arms about her, crying out when she flinched with pain. ‘Ssh. I won’t hurt you no more, but it’s your fault! You made me angry, talking like that. You know I can’t let you go to work, and yet you still keep on and on about it. You’re playing with my head, Judy.’

  Closing his eyes, he gave a small cry of anguish. ‘You ought not to do that.’

  One minute he was talking to her as he might talk to a child, and in the next he was sobbing uncontrollably. ‘I love you so much … oh, my sweet girl, I can’t stand the thought of any other man touching you!’

  When his grip tightened she tried her best to fight him off, but his manic strength was too much; his big, muscular arms were like an iron band around her chest, so much so that her fear of suffocation was very real.

  Now he was pulling her up, with such incredible ease, she could have been a rag doll. ‘It’s all right … ssh, Judy. Ssh.’

  With immense love and care he took her to the bathroom, where he washed her face and combed her hair, and Judy merely stood and let him do it, for if she were to complain, it would mean another beating.

  So she was the ‘good little girl’ again; a role she had learned well, while trapped in a vicious circle of love and hatred.

  Afterwards, knowing what he planned, she pleaded with him, ‘Leave me now, Phil, I don’t want to … Please, I hurt too much.’ Smiling, he carried her into the bedroom, where he laid her down in the gentlest manner and then, without any thought for her, he furiously and viciously gratified himself, while at the same time professing his love.

  ‘Don’t fight me, Judy,’ he warned. ‘I need you.’

  Time and again he murmured in her ear, ‘You belong to me, now and for always.’

  When he was satisfied, he sat back on his haunches, smiling down on her tearful face. ‘Look at me!’ He slid his hand beneath her face and tenderly but deliberately shifted her head so she was facing him, though she did not look at him. Instead she turned her gaze to the wall.

  ‘Judy, look at me.’

  She kept her eyes averted. To look at him would defile her all over again.

  ‘Hmh! Sulking again,’ he mumbled, climbing off the bed. ‘Get yourself ready now,’ he instructed in a matter-of fact voice. ‘I’ve decided to let you have your sofa. So hurry up, there’s a good girl. It’ll be your fault if we’re too late for the sale.’

  ‘I thought you had a game of darts down the pub this afternoon?’ Judy crossed her fingers behind her back. ‘You told me you had some kind of competition coming up and you needed to get in plenty of practice. I really don’t mind.’ She was desperate. ‘I can always take Pauline to look at the sofa.’

  He laughed at that. ‘You don’t think I’d let her go with you, do you?’ he asked. ‘Especially after she had the nerve to offer you a job.’

  ‘It was me that asked her.’

  Astonished, he swung round. ‘You never said that! You said she offered you a job – that’s what you said.’

  ‘Well, it was a bit of both really, but it doesn’t matter now, does it?’

  ‘Too right. The idea was a non-starter from the off.’

  Judy tried another tack. After meeting Kathleen, she had hatched a secret plan, but it had plainly backfired, and this time it was not herself she feared for; it was Harry. ‘You’re right, Phil. You’re always right.’ Flattery usually did the trick.

  ‘Right about what?’

  ‘About the sofa being good for a while longer yet.’

  She had been all kinds of a fool to think he might agree to her going alone.

  Reaching out, he pulled her effortlessly to the edge of the bed, grabbed her legs and swung her round until her feet touched the floor. ‘Don’t argue with me!’ he warned. ‘I’ve told you, my mind is made up. I want you to have a new sofa. Now do as I ask, and get ready. Or do I have to get cross with you again?’

  Without another word he snatched up the clothes he had so wantonly thrown aside, then he went into the bathroom and washed.

  When he was dressed, he stood by the door until she got off the bed and made her way towards the bathroom. ‘Good girl.’ Pleased that he had won the day, he stepped aside to let her pass. ‘I knew you’d see it my way in the end.’

  While Judy set about getting ready, he took a deep breath and congratulated himself on his authority. ‘Women, eh?’ He chuckled to himself. ‘They have to know who’s boss, or they’ll make your life a downright, bloody misery.’

  Digging into his pocket, he took out a packet of cigarettes. Inside the packet there were two matches rolled up in a tissue. He took one out, struck it on the sole of his shoe, and lit the cigarette. He then sucked in a long deep mouthful, which he blew out in a series of perfectly formed rings. He watched the rings float and wobble and finally dissipate altogether, then laughed out loud. ‘You haven’t lost it, Phil m’ lad,’ he chortled. ‘You still haven’t lost it.’

  A few moments later, Judy emerged. She had done her best to hide the weals and marks on her face and neck, but however much cream and powder she had plastered on, the faint shadows of his brutality were still there.

  Cupping her chin between his finger and thumb, he turned her head this way and that. ‘I can still see the bruises. Can’t you disguise them a bit better than that?’

  ‘No.’ In truth she didn’t care if the whole world was to see them, but not Harry. She did not want Harry to know how low she had sunk.

  Almost as though he had read her thoughts he said quietly, ‘Sit down.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I said so, and because we don’t want everyone seeing your poor little face.’ He gave her a shove towards the dressing-table stool. ‘Sit down … now!’

  Judy argued that she had done her level best to hide the marks, but as always he believed he knew better. ‘Sit!’ Thrusting her into the chair, he went to the bathroom, returning a moment later with her cosmetics bag. ‘I could do a better job than you, with gloves on and my eyes shut.’ Throwing open the bag, he tipped the contents onto the bed. ‘Now then, let me see. What have we got here?’

  After meticulously tending her face to disguise the results of his wicked handiwork, he replaced the cream and powder, together with the dark foundation she rarely used, and which she had meant to throw out. ‘Now, look in the mirror.’

  Judy noted how he had plastered a thick coat of foundation over her skin, then with a layer of powder on top he had managed to disguise the damage; though in the process he had made her look like a tart off the streets. ‘It’s too thick,’ she objected. ‘You’ve put too much on. I look hideous!’

  ‘Nonsense.’ He kissed the back of her neck. ‘Not to me you don’t, and it doesn’t matter what other men think. Now shift yourself. You’ve kicked up a great fuss about wanting this sofa, so let’s get on with it. I’ve got better things to be doing with my time than hanging about in shops.’

  ‘Honestly, Phil, I know how you love your darts, so why not let me go on my own?’ she offered
. ‘I promise I’ll go straight there and straight back.’

  His answer was to shove her across the room and out the door. ‘Thought you’d got me there, did you, eh?’ he chuckled. ‘Hoped I was about to turn you loose, did you?’

  ‘I’m only trying to be fair to us both,’ she protested. ‘You could go to your darts practice, and it would be really nice if I could choose the sofa myself. If you come along, you’ll only argue with me over colour and such. In the end we’ll probably get something you choose, and I won’t like it. Please, Phil. I’ll be better off on my own. Besides, I know exactly what I’m looking for.’

  ‘The darts practice can wait,’ he answered slyly. ‘Besides, with you wandering about and my money burning a hole in your pocket, who knows what you might get up to. Look – I’m coming with you, and that’s an end to it. After all, I need to make sure you keep your eyes on the sofas, and not on any man that might take a fancy to you.’

  ‘I have no interest in other men, you know that.’ Yet, always at the back of her mind and part of the reason she wanted to go to Jacobs’ Emporium, was the news that Kathleen had given her; the unbelievable, wonderful news that Harry was working there.

  In her deepest heart, she desperately wanted to see him.

  Having noticed the advert for the sale, she had thought to use the old sofa as her excuse for going there. All she wanted was to maybe just catch sight of him – just to see him again, with her own eyes. To see how he had turned out; whether he still bore any resemblance to that wonderful, good-looking boy she had fallen in love with, and whom she had never stopped loving through every minute of every day since he’d been gone.

  Every time Phil used and hurt her while making what he termed as ‘love’, the only way she could get through it, was to imagine it was Harry holding her; Harry with his mouth on hers; Harry who was whispering in her ear.

  But then, the Harry she had known would hold her more gently. He would not bruise her lips with his hard, spiteful kisses, and if he whispered in her ear it would be with soft, loving words, not filthy innuendoes and promises of the perverted things Phil planned to do to her.

 

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