by Sue Horsford
“I’m sorry,” I said.
Paul turned away. “Well, perhaps some time apart will do us good.”
Chapter Fourteen
“I know it’s short notice, but if you still want to go away, I’m free next weekend.”
I knew it was wrong. All I could think of was spending time with Gabriel. There was Paul saying time apart would do us good, and there was me using the time to be with my lover. But my guilt over Paul couldn’t begin to compete with the thought of spending an entire weekend with the man I loved.
Besides, as I’d lain in bed last night feeling guilty, I’d remembered the photos of Ginny and I told myself it was Paul who’d condemned our marriage. I was just the one carrying out the sentence.
“Leave it with me,” Gabriel said.
Later that afternoon, he rang me back and told me he’d found us a cottage in Anglesey. “It’s a short walk to the beach—not that we’ll be leaving the cottage very often—and there’s a log fire, so you’ll be nice and warm when you’re kneeling naked at my feet.”
The week dragged unbearably and by the time Friday morning arrived, I was exhausted, worn out by anticipation and longing and by the effort of trying to concentrate on the minutiae of everyday life when all I really wanted to do was be with my Master.
Too excited to manage more than half a piece of toast for breakfast, I showered and dressed, put on my torque, threw my bag into the boot of my car and drove to work. The plan was to take a half day then drive to Gabriel’s for half past one.
I was in the kitchen with Steph when Lisa came to the door and told me there was a call for me. I followed her back into reception and picked up the receiver.
“Hello.”
“Hello, Faye.”
“Barbara! How are you? Are you out of the hospital?”
“I am, yes, and I’ve made up my mind. I’m leaving Andrew.” Her voice sounded terrified, excited and sad all at the same time.
“Have you anywhere to go?”
“I was hoping maybe you could help me with that. It’s all a bit rushed, I’m afraid. Andrew hasn’t left me alone since I was discharged from the hospital. He took all his annual leave at once, told work he had to look after me. But there was some sort of meeting today he couldn’t miss, so he’s left me on my own and he’s forgotten to lock the front door. Would you be able to get me into a refuge on such short notice?”
“I’ll ring round now. I’ll find you somewhere, but I can’t promise it will be local.”
“It doesn’t matter where it is, Faye, just as long as I’m gone by the time he gets back.”
“And when will that be?”
“Well, he said five, so I’d like to be gone by four at the latest, just in case the meeting should finish early.”
I wrote down her number and rang round all the refuges in the area. It took a while. A lot of places would take only women with children, but eventually I found one. It was in Liverpool, but that was no bad thing. At least she’d be far enough away from Andrew. For a moment, I hesitated, imagining Barbara miles from home not knowing anyone. It was no easy decision to make to leave her home and all its comforts for a future full of uncertainty.
I phoned her back and gave her the news.
She was silent for a moment then she said, “Thank you so much, Faye, for all you’ve done for me. Now, how do I get to this place?”
“Well, probably the most hassle-free way would be for you to just get a taxi all the way,” I said. “Just please don’t tell the driver he’s taking you to a woman’s refuge.”
“Oh, I see. I don’t have any money and I can’t find my bank card. Will they pay for my taxi when I get there?”
I sighed. “Where exactly do you live, Barbara?”
“Chester.”
It was eleven o’clock now. To drive to Chester, pick up Barbara and take her to Liverpool would take an hour and a half, maybe two. Hopefully I could do it and still be at Gabriel’s for half past one.
“Hang on one moment,” I told her.
Kay wasn’t in today, so I told Steph what I was doing.
She frowned. “You’re not going to her house, are you?”
“No,” I lied, “she’s calling from a café in Chester.”
“Oh, okay then. Give me a ring after you’ve dropped her off, then you can get straight off.”
I went back to the phone, wrote down Barbara’s address and told her I’d see her in half an hour.
I’d only driven about eight miles when the traffic seemed to come almost to a stop. I should have checked the travel news for roadworks before I’d set off. Ten minutes later, the car was still in first gear. There was no way I was going to get to Gabriel’s for one-thirty at this rate. I picked up my phone and dialed his number. It rang and rang and finally went to voicemail.
“Hi, it’s me,” I said. “I’m just phoning to say don’t worry if I’m a bit late. I’m on my way to Chester to pick up Barbara, the lady I told you about. I’m taking her to a refuge, but the traffic’s dreadful, so I don’t know what time I’ll get to your house.”
I hung up and I wondered if he’d be angry at what I was doing, but then again, he didn’t know we were only allowed to make home visits in pairs.
After about twenty minutes, the traffic started to move again. My phone rang, but I was driving too fast now to answer. If it was Gabriel, I’d phone him back later.
Barbara’s house was a large pre-war detached with a lawned front garden and a sweeping drive edged with neatly trimmed rosebushes. Despite knowing Andrew would be gone all day, I couldn’t quite shake the feeling I was being watched as I left my car on the road and walked up to the house. I hoped Barbara would be ready and waiting at the front door.
My heart sank when she opened the door and invited me in.
“Aren’t you ready yet, Barbara?”
“Not quite. Would you like a cup of tea while you’re waiting?”
“No, I’m all right, thanks. Listen, Barbara, we really need to get going. Shall I help you finish packing?”
“I’m all packed, Faye. There are just some personal things I need to find.”
I followed her into a large, luxuriously furnished living room at the back of the house, where I perched on the edge of an armchair while Barbara rummaged through the drawers of an oak sideboard.
“You know, you can order copies of things like birth certificates,” I said.
“That’s not what I’m looking for. I’m sorry. I won’t be much longer.”
I stood and tried to steady my nerves by wandering around the room. Sitting on top of a writing desk in a heavy silver frame was what appeared to be quite a recent photograph of Barbara with a tall, powerfully built man dressed as a police officer, quite a high-ranking police officer, judging by the decorations on his uniform.
“Barbara, you didn’t tell me Andrew was in the police force.”
She turned to me with a bleak expression. “Why do you think I’ve never called the police? He’s not just a bobby on the beat, you know. He’s chief superintendent.”
Poor Barbara. No wonder she felt so powerless. Well, that explained how Andrew knew so much about me. A man in his position would be able to find out anything. Fear fluttered in the pit of my belly as I realized just how far-reaching his powers must be, and what trouble he could cause for me were he to find out my part in his wife’s escape.
“Are you nearly ready?” I said, the butterflies in my stomach becoming more animated by the minute. “We really need to get going now.”
A door slammed in the hall. Barbara turned pale and she seemed to shrink before my eyes.
“Hello there,” said Andrew as he came into the room. “It’s Mrs. Austin, isn’t it? I thought I saw your car outside. It’s nice to finally meet you face to face.” He smiled. “I hope my wife hasn’t brought you out here on a wild goose chase. She’s not been well, you know. She imagines all sorts of nonsense, don’t you, Barbara?”
I cleared my throat. “Actually, Barbar
a and I were just about to go for some lunch.”
Andrew’s smile widened, but his blue eyes glittered like shards of ice. “I see. Is that why there are suitcases in the hall?”
I stood my ground. What could he do now that I was here? He could hardly stop her from leaving.
“Are you coming, Barbara?” I said, sounding much calmer than I felt.
Andrew’s smile never wavered. “Did you think you were just going to steal my wife from under my nose?” He took a step toward me and, involuntarily, I stepped back. Andrew smirked. “Do I scare you?”
“No,” I lied.
“Well, you’ve got more about you than my wife, then. I scare you, don’t I, Barbara?” His gaze fell on the open drawer of the sideboard. “What have you been looking for? Photos of your darling boy? Of course, you wouldn’t want to go anywhere without them.” He turned back to me. “We haven’t seen our son for nearly twenty years. He just upped and left. Broke his mother’s heart, didn’t he, Barbara? She likes to moon over his photos sometimes so I removed them. They only upset her.” He frowned. “I don’t like my wife to be upset, Mrs. Austin.”
“What have you done with them?” asked Barbara, her voice breaking.
“Well, I thought it was probably best to burn them,” he said. He smiled again, his voice almost jovial.
“No!” The anguish in Barbara’s voice seemed to travel across the room, making my heart wince as if it shared her pain.
“But then I thought, no, he’s my son, too. I’ll just put them away somewhere. Would you like to see some pictures of our son, Mrs. Austin?” He turned away from me and went over to where a framed eighteenth-century map of Cheshire hung on the wall and swung it aside to reveal a wall safe.
Andrew’s presence had left me feeling paralyzed, but now that his back was turned, I saw a chance to leave. If Barbara wanted to come with me, that was up to her.
“I’m sorry. I can’t stay. I need to be somewhere.” I tried to stride with confidence toward the front door, but my limbs were heavy and uncoordinated, as if I were wading through a nightmare. Andrew caught up to me before I’d reached the hall.
He pushed me up against the wall, as if I were a criminal under arrest. Then he grabbed my right wrist and twisted my arm up my back. I tried to wriggle free, but Andrew just pulled harder until I screamed.
“Please, please let go,” I begged. Pain sliced up my arm into my shoulder. How could this be happening to me?
“Andrew please, you’re going to break her arm,” begged Barbara.
Andrew changed the position of his hand, so his thumb pressed into my palm and his fingers squeezed the back of my hand, then, with one quick motion, he twisted my wrist until something cracked
“Oops. Seems you were right for once, Barbara.” He released me. “Sit down,” he ordered.
Nauseated and trembling, I stumbled to the nearest chair and collapsed into it.
Andrew stared at me for a moment, as if unsure of what to do next. “Look what you’ve made me do, you stupid bitch,” he said in a tight voice. He shook his head as if he couldn’t believe how foolish I was, then he turned back to the safe and turned the dial. “What the hell am I going to do with you now?” He opened the door, took something out and turned back to face me.
He held something in his hand and, for a moment, I struggled to comprehend what it was. Then, for one crazy moment, I had the ridiculous urge to laugh. Far from adding to Andrew’s menace, the gun in his hand only seemed to diminish it. For God’s sake, it was a sunny Friday afternoon in a suburban detached in Chester, not some gangster movie. Just who did he think he was, Tony Soprano? Then I was hit by another wave of nausea from the pain in my hand and the laughter died in my throat. The man had just broken my wrist. I needed to take him seriously.
Perhaps it wasn’t a real gun. But why on earth would anyone keep a fake gun locked away in a safe? Where would he get a gun from, anyway? Of course, he was a police officer, so he would have easy access to firearms. He probably even had a license for it. What was he going to do? Was he actually going to use it? Was he going to kill me? No, that was ridiculous. He couldn’t just kill me on a sunny Friday afternoon.
Thoughts were running haphazardly through my brain, but I was strangely disassociated from the whole experience. I thought of Paul. He’d think I’d just left without a word. Would he report me missing, or would he think I’d run off with my lover? Steph could tell the police where I’d gone, but no, she couldn’t. As far as she knew, I’d gone to pick up a woman called Barbara from a café in Chester.
They always suspected the husband if a woman went missing, didn’t they? They’d find out there were problems at home, Steph would say, ‘Yes, she was having an affair, she was about to leave her husband!’ then they’d arrest poor Paul.
This was absurd. Of course Andrew wouldn’t kill me. The whole situation was just too melodramatic for words. But I could hear Steph’s words. ‘An abusive man is more likely to kill his wife when she leaves him than at any other time.’ If he was going to kill Barbara, then he was going to have to do away with me as well.
The pain in my wrist sent nausea sweeping over me in dizzying waves. Perhaps if I closed my eyes for just a moment… Maybe I was dreaming, maybe if I just…
A hard slap that brought tears to my eyes brought me back to reality
“Stay with us, Mrs. Austin,” barked Andrew.
“What are you going to do?” I wanted to sound as if I wasn’t scared, but my voice came out as a whisper.
“That,” he said, “is something I am still trying to decide.”
“Please, Andrew,” Barbara said.
Andrew marched over to where she was standing, grabbed her hair and yanked it downward so she was bent forward from the waist. Then he brought his leg up and kneed her in the stomach. He let go of her hair and she fell to the floor.
“Did you think I was just going to let you leave, you stupid bitch?” he yelled. He kicked her in the back with the heel of his boot. She fell forward onto her face. He then delivered several swift, hard kicks to her side.
Barbara made no sound as I watched in horror, desperate to intervene but paralyzed by the gun in Andrew’s hand. Barbara’s face remained expressionless. Not a single tear dampened her cheeks. A bitter taste crept into my mouth. How often must this have happened for her to remain so calm?
My phone rang. Automatically, I reached for my handbag.
“Leave it!” Andrew bellowed.
An idea came to me. “It’s probably work,” I said. “I told them where I was going and I told them I’d ring when I got here. They must be worried that they haven’t heard from me.”
He frowned. “I’ll have to think of something quickly, then.”
“Listen,” I said, panic making me babble, “it’s probably easier if I just leave now. If you want Barbara to stay here, then that’s fine. I’ll just get going. I won’t tell anyone what happened. I’ll just leave. Okay?”
Andrew stared at me incredulously. “Just what sort of moron do you think you’re dealing with? I’ve broken your wrist. Are you trying to make me believe you’re just going to go home and cook dinner for your husband like nothing happened? Do I look like a total fucking idiot?” He was breathing heavily, sweat standing out on his brow, and his skin appeared waxy.
I didn’t answer, and he began again. “I said do I look—?”
The sound of the doorbell stopped him in mid-sentence. No one moved a muscle, like a group of children playing statues at a party. Whenever I’d watched a scene like this in a film, I’d always wanted to shout at the TV, ‘Somebody make a noise, somebody shout.’ But now, the muscles of my neck seemed paralyzed, the saliva in my mouth had turned to wallpaper paste and my voice, if I could find it, would be nothing more than a parched breath of dust.
For a good few minutes, it was as if someone had pressed pause, then, when the bell didn’t ring again, Andrew seemed to relax a little, though his breathing still seemed labored.
“Where was I?” he asked Barbara.
Before she had a chance to answer, my phone rang again.
“For fuck’s sake!” he screamed. “She’s not going to fucking answer. Just…fuck…off!”
After a few more rings, the ringing stopped then immediately started again.
Andrew gestured toward my bag. “Give me the phone,” he demanded.
With my left hand, I picked up my bag and was just trying to unzip it with one hand when a noise from the hall made me look up.
A man stood in the doorway. At first, I thought the pain was making me hallucinate then I realized both Andrew and Barbara saw him, as well. Andrew’s eyes were virtually popping out of his head with rage, Barbara’s hands had flown to her mouth and the man was saying, “I can’t believe you’ve not changed the lock on the kitchen door in twenty years.”
But I must have been hallucinating to some extent, because the man in the doorway was the living image, the absolute double of Gabriel. He came straight over to me and knelt at my feet. Even close up, I would swear it was Gabriel.
“Are you okay?”
I wanted to answer him, but I seemed to be in a dream. I couldn’t get a grip on what was real and what wasn’t.
“Faye, answer me.”
He took my hands in his and, as he grasped my right hand, a bolt of electricity shot up my arm and I screamed in pain. The pain brought reality flooding back and, even though I couldn’t begin to imagine how Gabriel came to be there in front of me, it was enough for the moment to know that he was there.
“Christ, Faye, your hand.”
I glanced down. It was swollen and puffy. No wonder it hurt so much.
“Did you do this?” he said to Andrew, his voice rough with anger.
Andrew sneered at us. “How sweet. You’re concerned about her. See, Barbara, our son has finally brought a woman home to meet us.”