Poppy Day
Page 36
‘You want a snapshot?’
‘If you like, yes.’
‘Let me think. A snapshot, things that were typical…’
She paused.
‘It’s difficult to know where to start, how much to give you.’
‘Give me anything, Kathryn, other than the phrase “my husband was a monster”, which is a bit too generic and dramatic to be of real use. Give me something tangible, something that will help me to understand, any detail that will help me explain it to others.’
‘Righto. There is one thing that I would like to say, Roland, before I start, and that is that I will neither exaggerate nor understate the facts. I have told you and will continue to tell you only the whole truth and nothing but the truth – is that the phrase?’
Roland nodded. ‘Yes, that’s close enough, Kathryn. Ready when you are.’
Kathryn breathed in sharply and used her left thumb to spin her wedding band around her finger. It hadn’t occurred to her to remove it, but she now decided to do so as soon as she was alone. She pushed the gold sliver upwards and briefly pondered the groove it had notched into her finger, wondering how long it would take for the tiny track to disappear. That would mark a big step towards her emancipation.
‘Well, Mark was very fussy, obsessive, really. I wasn’t allowed to wear jeans or trousers, only skirts. Every minute of my day was more or less accounted for; there was very little time for free choice. I could decide what route to take to the supermarket or what veg to prepare for supper, but that was pretty much it. How and where I stored the groceries, when I served dinner, these things were all prescribed. I had to complete a round of chores every day, often pointless and repetitive chores that were designed to exhaust me and break my spirit…’
Roland pinched his eye sockets with his thumb and forefinger. He could just picture those words being repeated in court: ‘I killed my husband because he was a little bit fussy, preferring me in skirts. And I had to do household chores.’ Jesus, if she got away with it, most of the women in the country would have justification. He hoped she had something better than that.
‘At the end of every day, we would climb the stairs together. With only a plaster wall between me and my children, I would kneel at the foot of our bed and Mark would allocate me points according to how badly he thought I had executed the chores that day. Extra points would be added if I had done anything to irritate or anger him.’
She had his attention.
‘These points would be on a scale of one to ten and depending on how badly I had scored – ten being bad – would determine what came next.’
Kathryn’s tears snaked their way into the waiting square of kitchen roll. Her breath stuttered in her throat, her distress as much for the shame in telling as for the memory of the events.
‘Points?’
Roland shook his head. Kathryn couldn’t gauge whether this was in pity or disbelief.
‘Yes. And then he would hurt me.’
This she whispered. Roland strained to hear.
‘How long had he been doing this to you, Kathryn?’
She coughed, collected herself and continued quite brightly, as if she could fool herself that all was well.
‘Well, looking back, I can see that I was bullied from the moment we met. It was little things at first: criticising the clothes I wore, the way I styled my hair, and disliking all of my friends. He put a halt to my career as an English teacher, which was a shame. He broke or threw away anything that I had owned prior to meeting him, monitored my calls, that sort of thing. I was slowly alienated from my family. All his actions were designed to destabilise me and make me more dependent on him, cutting off all my allies and destroying my self-esteem so that when he started the real abuse I was already a victim and quite alone. I had become unable to confidently make a decision, such was my confusion. I had no voice. At least that’s how it felt.’
‘And what you term as “real abuse” – how long had that been going on?’
‘Oh, let me see… since I was pregnant with Dominic.’
‘Who is now sixteen?’
‘Yes, that’s right, although it doesn’t seem possible! Sixteen… it goes so quickly, doesn’t it? You must find that with Sophie. Sometimes I feel as if I was chasing a chubby toddler around the house, then turned my back for a second to find he’s suddenly become this invincible life force, “a teenager”. Sorry, Roland, I’m going off-piste a little, aren’t I?’
She watched his expression, understood his predicament. Kathryn knew that it didn’t sound plausible; it sounded completely bonkers that she had been talking about Mark Brooker, the headmaster! She knew that Roland and every other parent would only ever be able to picture Mark offering a firm handshake and a clever quip. They would all agree that the whole affair was most shocking. What would Mark’s PA, Judith, make of it all? Kathryn smiled to herself as she considered the woman’s reaction, she could just imagine her statement: ‘Mark didn’t look like a nasty man, in fact he was quite gorgeous…’
Kathryn hoped that in time and once all the facts had been revealed, people would ask themselves one important question: if her life had been as perfect as Roland and everyone had thought, why would she have done it? Why would she fabricate the whole nightmare and then ask for punishment if it weren’t true? Unless she was crazy, of course. And Kathryn was determined to prove that she was anything but.
Roland took a deep breath and prepared to repeat his questions.
About the Author
Photograph of Amanda Prowse by Paul Smith
Amanda Prowse was a management consultant for ten years before deciding to pursue her real ambition: to create stories that keep people from turning the bedside lamp off at night. Her husband, Simeon, is a soldier, and when their family isn’t being uprooted by the army, Amanda and Simeon live blissfully in the West Country with their two teenage sons.
About the Book
What would you sacrifice to bring home the one you love?
Ever since Poppy Day married her childhood sweetheart, Mart, she’s been deliriously happy. Now Mart is fighting a war abroad, and Poppy is counting the days until he returns.
It takes one knock at the door to rip Poppy’s world apart. Mart has been taken hostage in Afghanistan and Poppy is determined to get him home. But what can one woman do, alone in a foreign land, to save the man she loves?
I AM THE WIFE of a serving soldier and the Royal British Legion is a charity very close to my heart, which is why I am donating every penny of author royalties from Poppy Day to this amazing organisation. They have been there for over 90 years, supporting troops returning from conflict and also the families of those who have sadly lost their lives. Many that have fought will need support for the rest of their lives. The Royal British Legion’s work is varied and vital. Whether helping to fund new Personnel Recovery Centres, adapting a home to make it suitable for a disabled young soldier, providing pension advice or bereavement counselling, the RBL are there to help. By buying Poppy Day, you have helped to make a difference for our troops and their families when they need it the most.
Contents
Title Page
Dedication
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
One year later
Acknowledgements
Preview: What Have I Done?
About the Author
About the Book
Author’s Note
Copyright
Copyright
First published in the UK in 2012 by Head of Zeus Ltd.
Copyright © Amanda Prowse, 2011
The moral right of Amanda Prowse to be identified as the author of thi
s work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act of 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
9 7 5 3 1 2 4 6 8
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN (PB) 9781781851111
ISBN (E) 9781781851791
Printed and bound by CPI Group (UK) Ltd, Croydon, CR0 4YY
Head of Zeus Ltd
Clerkenwell House
45-47 Clerkenwell Green
London EC1R 0HT
www.headofzeus.com