A Fine Line

by Sue Horsford

  “Well, that’s good then,” she said.

  “Is it?” Gabriel’s voice was harsh.

  “Well, I wouldn’t wish anyone dead.” She started to run hot water into the sink.

  “Mum, I’ll do the dishes.”

  “No, I want to keep busy.” She stopped. “Actually, would anyone mind if I went for a little walk? It’s such a lovely morning. It’s a shame to waste it.”

  “Do you want us to come with you?” he asked.

  “No, I don’t think so, dear. I’d like to be alone for a while.” She turned off the tap, picked up her cardigan and left the kitchen, her movements stiff and forced like someone in shock.

  “What are you going to do?” I asked Gabriel.

  “Well, I’m not about to go over there with grapes,” he said. He went over to the kitchen table and pulled out a chair. “Come and sit down.” He took my good hand in his. “I don’t want to put any pressure on you, but if we go to the police and make statements against him, there’s a good chance he’ll be put away, and she’ll be free.”

  “And what if he isn’t put away?” I said. “I work with victims of violence, remember? I’ve seen dozens of women come through the doors of the center who’ve had far worse injuries than a sprained wrist, and their husbands have been given probation. And look who he is, Gabriel—he’s a police chief. Imagine the sort of barrister he’d be able to afford. What might he do to her afterwards?”

  “And would you be giving Barbara this advice if you weren’t personally involved?” he asked me, a hard edge to his voice. “Are you sure it’s her safety you’re concerned about, and not your own?”

  He was right. I would never normally discourage a woman from going to the police. I was thinking about my own safety. I’d had a taste of what Andrew was capable of and when Gabriel had given us the news he was still alive, a small block of ice had formed in my stomach which was growing by the second as I thought of what he might do to me if I pressed charges.

  I looked up at Gabriel, my heart full of dread. “I’ll do it.”

  “No.” Gabriel shook his head. “You’re terrified and I had no right to say what I just did. Forget it, sweetheart, I’m not putting you through any more trauma. We’ll find another way.”

  Barbara returned half an hour later. She seemed calm, but her eyes were red and puffy.

  “Do you think it would be too late to go into that refuge?” she asked me.

  “You’re not going into any refuge,” Gabriel said. “You’re going to stay with me for the time being, then we’ll find you someplace of your own nearby.”

  “But Andrew will never allow it,” she said.

  “Andrew is not going to have any choice in the matter,” said Gabriel darkly.

  Barbara went up to the bathroom.

  Gabriel turned to me. “When we leave here tomorrow, will you come somewhere with me?”

  “Where do you want to go?”

  “To the hospital. I want to visit my father.”

  We left the cottage early in the morning and drove Barbara back to Gabriel’s house. He made sure she was comfortable, then we dropped off my car and caught a taxi to Chester to pick up Gabriel’s car.

  On the way to the hospital, Gabriel said, “Have you thought about what you’re going to tell Paul about your hand?”

  “I’ll just tell him I fell on it. By the way, when we go home, can you drop me off at Steph’s? I’m going to tell her what really happened. I owe her the truth and I’m not going to be in work on Monday.”

  We turned a corner and, as the hospital came into view, I couldn’t help a shiver.

  “Don’t worry,” Gabriel said, “I’ll do all the talking. And by the way, as far as Andrew’s concerned, your wrist is actually broken, okay?”

  Andrew looked smaller and a lot less threatening in his blue hospital gown, but I couldn’t quite shake the feeling he might still be able to hurt me and I crept close to Gabriel for reassurance.

  Andrew saw me and he scowled. “Why have you brought your tart with you? Where’s your mother?”

  “I’ve brought Faye with me so you can thank her in person.”

  “Thank her? What the hell for?”

  “I asked her to press charges against you and they’re pretty serious charges. You held her against her will at gunpoint and you broke her wrist. That’s kidnap and assault, isn’t it? You’d know better than me what you’d be charged with, I suppose. I’ve also asked Mum to give a statement about the abuse you’ve subjected her to over the years and she’s finally seen the light and has agreed. I’ve taken photographs, by the way, of the bruises on her back.”

  Gabriel’s voice grew tight and he took a deep breath before continuing. “Then, of course, there’s my testimony. The many, many assaults I’ve witnessed over the years and the little scene that met my eyes as I walked in on you on Friday, standing there holding two helpless women at gunpoint.”

  “Don’t you dare threaten me!”

  Andrew’s face was so red I thought he might have another heart attack.

  “Why, what will you do?” asked Gabriel, smiling like a cat with his paw upon the tail of a mouse. “You’ll be suspended straight away. You won’t be Chief Superintendent Scott anymore. You’ll be plain Andrew Scott, bully and wife beater. You’ll lose the respect of everyone you know, you’ll lose your pension and I should imagine the papers will have a field day. Oh, and if you do go to jail, I’d love to be a fly on the wall if the other prisoners realize they have an ex-police officer locked up with them.”

  Andrew seemed to deflate before my eyes. “So what exactly am I supposed to be thanking you for?” he asked, turning hate-filled eyes upon me.

  “Well, if it were up to me,” said Gabriel, “I’d gladly see you in Hell, but Faye’s a more forgiving person than I am. She’s like Mum. She believes in giving people a second chance. So we’ve had a chat, the three of us, and what we’ve decided is this—Mum has left you, you won’t see her again and you have to accept that and not come looking for her. You’ll still support her financially. You can do that by making a monthly payment into my bank account. We’ll make the arrangements after you’re out of hospital. You won’t contact Mum, Faye or me or make any trouble for any one of us in any way.

  “In return, there’ll be no charges brought against you, and Mum won’t divorce you and she won’t ask you to sell the house. Personally, I think she should take you for everything you have, but she won’t budge on that. So life can carry on pretty much as it has done for you, except that you’ll have to find yourself another punching bag.”

  “She’s my wife,” said Andrew. “She can’t just walk out on me. What the hell do I say to people?”

  “That’s your problem,” said Gabriel. “All I care about is that from now on you’re nothing to us but a bad memory.”

  Andrew seemed genuinely shocked. “Gabriel, I’m your father!”

  “You’re a disgrace to the word.” Gabriel curled his lip in disgust. “So, are you going to get out of our lives, or are you ready for the world to know just what a cowardly piece of shit you really are?”

  “Oh, I’ll stay out of your miserable little lives. I mean, what am I actually losing here? You’re hardly a son to make a man proud, are you? Carrying on with another man’s wife. You’re a bloody disgrace.”

  At Gabriel’s look of surprise, Andrew laughed. “Oh, yes, I told your mother I’d had no luck finding you, but I’ve been keeping up with your progress or lack of it for years. As for that slag of a wife, I’m well rid of her.”

  Gabriel took a step toward the bed, his hands curled into fists.

  “Go on,” snarled Andrew. “You’ve always wanted to.”

  Gabriel shook his head. “You’re really not worth it. Come on, Faye, let’s get out of here. I need some fresh air.”

  As we reached the door, Gabriel turned back and said, “Oh, by the way, Andrew, when you do finally do us all a favor and drop dead, you’d better have left everything to Mum. I can still
ruin your reputation after you’ve gone.”

  Gabriel didn’t say a word on the way back to the car, and when we got in, he just sat with his hands on the wheel, staring ahead. Then he gave a great sigh and turned to me with a weary smile. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

  “I’m fine. I’m more worried about how you’re feeling.”

  “I’ve never been better,” he said. “Hopefully, he’ll stay out of her life now.”

  “So she’s going to be living with you for the foreseeable future?”

  He grimaced. “I’m afraid so. Just for the moment, anyway, while she finds her feet.” He squeezed my knee. “I know it doesn’t give us much privacy, but it won’t be forever.”

  We pulled up outside Steph’s, and Gabriel switched off the engine and unfastened my seatbelt for me. “Do you want me to come in with you?”

  I stared at him in amazement. “You’re being very brave, aren’t you?”

  “Well, you were brave facing my father. I thought I’d repay the favor. I know she gives you a hard time about me. Maybe she’ll go a bit easier on you if I come in with you, rather than leaving you on her doorstep and fleeing into the night.” He squeezed my knee. “If I’m being honest, we’ve been through so much together these last few days, it feels weird saying goodbye. And you look so vulnerable with your arm in that sling. I feel like I should still be taking care of you.”

  I forced myself to smile. “Paul will be home later. He’ll be able to look after me.”

  “Of course,” Gabriel said. “Silly of me to worry.”

  When Steph opened the door and saw Gabriel, her eyes took on the light of battle. “No need to ask who you are,” she said. “Are you ready for round two?” She turned to me. “Did he tell you I read him the Riot Act the other night?”

  “He did, yes.”

  “So, why is he here now?” She glared at Gabriel. “Do you think you’re going to turn on the charm and make me change my opinion of you? You’ll have a long wait, mate.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of trying to change your opinion of me. What you said on the phone was absolutely right. Paul is a thoroughly decent bloke and I had no right to smarm my way in, as you put it, and steal his wife. I’m a complete asshole, that was what you said, wasn’t it? But frankly, it doesn’t matter what you think of me at the moment. It would be nice if we could get along, but I don’t intend to lose any sleep over it if we don’t. I’m here for Faye. She’s had a pretty shit weekend.”

  “Shit Friday,” I interrupted, “not a shit weekend.” This earned me a smile from Gabriel and an eye-rolling from Steph.

  “Anyway,” said Gabriel, “she wants to tell you all about it and I want to be here to support her while she does. So are you going to invite me in, or shall we just chat on the doorstep?”

  “Fine,” snapped Steph. “Don’t expect me to offer you a drink.”

  We went inside and sat in her living room. Steph’s eyes opened wide when she noticed my sling.

  “So are you going to tell me how you did that?” she demanded.

  “It was Andrew, Barbara’s husband,” I said.

  “At least it wasn’t you,” she said, glaring at Gabriel.

  “No, it was my father,” he said.

  “Barbara’s your mother?”

  “Yes, so when Faye left me a message saying she’d gone to my mother’s house…”

  “Excuse me,” interrupted Steph. “Gone to her house? You told me you were meeting her in a café.”

  “She lied,” said Gabriel with a stern look that reminded me I was still facing a punishment for that.

  “Faye! You know that’s against the rules.”

  “I know,” I said. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to do whatever I could to help Barbara.”

  “You always had a soft spot for her,” she accused me. “And look where it has got you. What are you going to tell Kay? If you tell her a client’s husband attacked you, there’ll be a hell of an investigation. You know Kay.”

  “I’m going to tell people I tripped and landed awkwardly on my hand. That’s what I’ve decided to tell Paul.”

  “So, you’re not going to the police, then? You’re letting the son of a bitch get away with it?”

  Gabriel explained what he’d said to Andrew. “It was the price of peace of mind for my mother,” he said. “If we go to the police, then Andrew has nothing left to lose. This way we’ve always got something to hold over him.”

  Turning to me, he said, “Talking of my mother, I’m really sorry, sweetheart, but I’m going to have to get back to her.”

  “That’s okay,” I said, feeling absurdly close to tears. “Ring me.”

  “Tomorrow,” he promised, kissing me on the forehead.

  After he’d gone, an awful sense of abandonment crept over me.

  Steph studied me gloomily. “You’ve got it bad, haven’t you? I’ve never seen you looking so tragic.”

  “I know you hate him,” I began.

  “I don’t hate him. I hate what he’s doing to you. But it’s too late now, isn’t it? I can see that. So if it makes you happy, I’ll try to be nicer to him next time I see him.”

  “Thanks, Steph.”

  Paul walked straight into the living room with a purposeful look on his face, then he saw my sling and stopped dead. “Faye! What happened?”

  “I was out shopping in Chester and I fell down some steps. I put my hand out to stop myself and sprained my wrist.”

  “When was this?”

  “Friday afternoon. I took a half day from work.”

  “And you’ve had to manage by yourself since then?”

  “Steph’s been great,” I said truthfully. “Anyway, how was Amsterdam?”

  “Horrible. I spent the whole weekend thinking about us. Faye, I need to ask you a question and I need an honest answer. Do you still want to be with me?”

  This was it. This was my chance. “Of course I do,” I said.

  “Thank God,” he breathed. “I honestly didn’t know what you were going to say.”

  Neither did I. Why was I such a coward?

  Chapter Sixteen

  I was lying in bed, trying to decide whether to get up, when Gabriel phoned.

  “How’s your arm?”

  “The swelling’s gone down and I’ve taken the sling off, but it’s still quite painful.”

  “Are you alone?”

  “I am, yes. Paul wanted to stay home and look after me, but I told him I’d be okay on my own.”

  “I take it things are better between you, then?” There was an edge to his voice, and a tiny flame of hope flickered into life inside me. Did Gabriel not want me to work things out with Paul?

  “Do you think I should leave him, then?”

  “It’s none of my business,” he said.

  “Would you miss me if I left you?” I asked, desperate for some sign that I meant anything to him.

  “I think you get enough compliments from me. Don’t fish for more.”

  “I’m sorry, Sir.”

  “Are you going to stay off work tomorrow?”

  “I am, yes. I’m taking the week off.”

  “Good. My mother’s going to spend the day with a friend, so we’ll have the house to ourselves. You can come round and I’ll photograph you.”

  “Oh, yes, for my mother.”

  “Well, yes, I know I’ve promised to do something for your mother, but I was thinking of doing a series of erotic photos.”

  “Of me?” I squeaked.

  “Well, I was thinking of our mothers, some girl-on-girl stuff, but I could use you if you’d prefer.”

  “How is it you get to be sarcastic, but I get told off?” I complained.

  “Because I’m the boss.”

  “I don’t think your photos would look very erotic with me in them.”

  “I’m adding another rule,” he said, his voice stern. “You put yourself down again and you won’t sit for a week.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m just not used to thinking of
myself as attractive.”

  He sighed. “Don’t I make you feel beautiful, sweetheart?”

  “I do feel more attractive than I used to,” I admitted.

  “Good, because you are fucking gorgeous.”

  He fell silent and for a moment, I wondered if we’d been cut off, but then he spoke again and his voice was so husky and warm I could almost feel his breath against my ear. “Are you wearing anything?”

  “Pajamas,” I confessed.

  “Then take them off and tell me when you’re naked.”

  I wriggled out of them. “I’m naked now, Sir.”

  “Good girl. Are you wet for me?”

  I bit my lip as a wave of longing for him washed over me. “Yes, Sir.”

  “Good. I want you to touch your breasts and imagine it’s my fingers you feel.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Run your fingers over your nipples and make them hard for me.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “I hear you breathing, Faye. You sound excited. Are your nipples hard for me?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Pinch them hard, as hard as you can. Pretend it’s my fingers you feel. You remember how hard I can pinch your nipples, don’t you? How I can make you gasp?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  The ache between my legs was becoming unbearable and I writhed around in the sheets, pulling off the covers so that the cool air caressed my burning skin.

  “What are you thinking of, Faye?”

  “I’m imagining you’re here in my bed and you’re pleasuring me with your tongue,” I groaned.

  “You like that, don’t you, babe?” he said, a smile in his voice. “Next time I see you, I’ll spread your legs wide and I’ll tease your clit with my tongue. I’ll lick it until you can’t bear any more, then I’ll flick it hard while I fuck your pussy with my fingers. I’ll make you come so hard you’ll cry.”

  “Please,” I whimpered.

  “Please what, my little slut?”

  “Please let me touch myself.”

  “Touch yourself where?”

  “My…my pussy,” I said shyly.

  “Ask me properly, then.”