Watching Over You

by Sherratt, Mel

  ‘I give up! You turned down sex on a plate!’

  ‘It wasn’t about the sex. I –’

  But Ella was walking away. ‘I can’t believe you’re seeing him again. That’s the deal. One night only.’

  ‘What deal?’ Charley looked on perplexed. What on earth was Ella talking about? Was she expecting her to sleep with Aaron and then move on to someone else? Put some notches on her headboard? Because if she was, she had the wrong impression of her.

  ‘It doesn’t matter.’ Ella shook her head. ‘I need to catch up on my sleep. See you later.’

  Charley watched as she headed upstairs all droopy shoulders and stroppy attitude. She sighed at the sound of Ella’s door banging loudly, having a feeling that she’d never be able to understand her strange views on relationships. One minute she was telling her to find a man, make a go of it with Aaron, and now she was accusing her of not taking advantage of him before moving on to the next conquest. Surely she should be able to know her own mind and not rush into things?

  She let herself into her flat and closed the door quietly. Then she grinned; she wasn’t going to think about Ella. She had someone else to occupy her thoughts right now. Who would have thought she’d wake up in Aaron’s bed that morning?

  Chapter Fourteen

  Ella couldn’t believe how wrong it had all gone. She’d been planning on going out with Charley for brunch to chat about the night before, plot their next missions, have a laugh like they did last night, and enhance any good points so that she’d be there for Charley when Aaron didn’t want to see her again. That way she could play on the fact that she would never let her down; she would always be there for her. But no, all Charley wanted to do was catch up on her sleep because she’d had a really great time with that fucking moron.

  It was like before, when she had felt the darkness falling around her; she wasn’t good enough. Ella had thought that Aaron would screw Charley and not want to see her again; thought that she’d be the one comforting Charley soon, after giving herself to a man and him not wanting anything long term. Instead, she remembered how she’d looked when she’d left her moments ago. Charley was radiant; she’d obviously enjoyed the night.

  That wasn’t meant to happen! She was supposed to be your friend. I told you, didn’t I?

  Ella covered her ears. She was supposed to be her friend but maybe Charley and Aaron wouldn’t get on as well as they hoped. Charley would need her then and she would be there for her. This was a sideways step, that’s all.

  Why won’t you listen? She doesn’t want to know you. You don’t deserve her friendship anyway. You’re an evil bitch. You need to be alone.

  No. Ella slapped at her face. She cried out, knowing she could never hit herself hard enough to take away the hurt. She slapped herself again and again until an angry red patch appeared on her cheek.

  She went into the kitchen to pour herself a drink, got out a glass, and slung it at the wall. As it shattered everywhere, falling to the floor like raindrops, she began to cry. Why didn’t anyone want to spend time with her? Why?

  She reached for the whisky bottle, removed the top, and guzzled down a mouthful. Coughing and spluttering, she took another gulp. She needed to block out the bad feelings that were forming. She’d been screwed last night; she didn’t need to be screwed again.

  But Steve hadn’t wanted to see her a second time. He’d said goodbye, he’d see her around – the usual shit. They hadn’t even swapped phone numbers. There was no way they could contact each other, unless indirectly going through Charley to get to Aaron. But she knew Steve hadn’t wanted that. If he had wanted to see her again, it was so easy to keep in touch these days. Social media didn’t give anyone an excuse anymore, although someone could hide just as easily using an alias. It was a joke, really – Ella had gone online as Cassandra, after all.

  In the living room, she fixed her eyes on the avenue but there was nothing going on – a man a few doors down washing his truck, his young son on the pavement pedalling up a storm on a bike with stabilizers. Other than that, the place was dead. Everyone would be tucking into a roast dinner now; people meeting up with family, brothers catching up with sisters, parents seeing their children.

  It’s Sunday lunch time – what do you expect? Everyone is with someone they love.

  Lunch? That was a joke. All she had in was mouldy cheese and out-of-date bread. That would have to do unless she went shopping, which was highly unlikely as she couldn’t be bothered to go out. But then again, she might be able to pick up a date at the supermarket. She laughed out loud at the thought. Whoever had come up with the idea of supermarket dating needed their head looked at. If they’d seen the state of some of the single men who roamed the aisles looking for love amongst the ready meals, they’d soon realise why they were loveless.

  Like you. No one loves you.

  Ella heard the entrance door open and close. She ran to the window just in time to see Charley walking down the steps and heading down Warwick Avenue. She wondered if she should follow her again, see where she was going, but when she didn’t get in her car, Ella realised she couldn’t be going far. Maybe she was off to the local shop to get a paper, or something to ease the headache she’d been complaining about.

  Not wanting to miss the opportunity, Ella grabbed her keys and shot downstairs. Adrenaline rushed through her as she let herself in to Charley’s flat.

  She’d visited several times since that first morning. In the living room, Ella noticed the colour of the cushion covers had changed, and there was a new glass vase on the fireplace. Running a hand over the side unit as she went past it, she stooped down and opened both doors wide. Was there anything she could play with in here?

  She flicked through a stack of paperbacks, mostly women’s fiction, and a pile of papers and magazines; she opened envelopes – a few circulars and a leaflet about a college course on counselling. Bits of Blu-Tack attached to the back of a few photos made her look closer at them. Treasured photos had Blu-Tack on the back of them: they’d probably been stuck on mirrors to see every day, or onto the edge of computer terminals or walls in an office. They were all of Charley and Dan: one on a beach, one at a wedding, one with Dan messing around in a garden. Ella speculated if it was their old house, tried to guess what it had been like – their love nest.

  Above her on the surface, she saw a glass cube containing more images of Dan. She picked it up and drew it close.

  He was a good-looking man, she had to admit. All strong features and a smile that reached his eyes. Ella guessed he’d been fun to be with. She could tell that about a person, the way they held themselves, the way they looked comfortable in their own skin. She’d never looked comfortable in hers. That’s why she wanted to cut it off at times. Dig that knife in deeper and deeper to take away the hurt.

  Hmm – maybe she could move this. Or hide it somewhere – it might upset Charley enough so that she would turn to her for comfort! And if she was upset about losing it, perhaps it would make her realise that she didn’t need anyone like Aaron yet. Ella could then take her time again getting to know Charley more. She wouldn’t have to be alone because her plan had backfired.

  She looked at the cube again. If she took it, Charley would know that someone had been in her flat. Maybe if she moved it around so that another image was at the top – or even turned it towards the wall. No, Charley wouldn’t notice that, would think she’d moved it herself. Maybe…

  Very carefully, she slid it as close to the edge of the unit as it would go without falling off. She balanced it, catching it before it dropped on one occasion before pushing it back slightly. When she had placed it right, she stepped away slowly, praying that one false move wouldn’t make it fall. She wanted that to happen when Charley was back. She hoped it would unsettle her and maybe, just maybe, get her thinking that it had been moved by another force: by Dan as though he were annoyed with her seeing Aaron. She giggle
d – that wouldn’t work, but she’d have fun thinking about it.

  She glanced around again, looking to see if there was anything better that she could do. But all she could see were things that would be too obvious. She went through to the kitchen, opened the fridge – yes, there were two bottles of wine. She pulled one out, read the label, and then did the same with the other bottle. She decided on the second one, a medium-bodied rosé, notes of ripe red fruits, strawberry and watermelon.

  Charley would never know. She’d think she’d already drunk it, convince herself that she couldn’t remember doing so, because there would be no other rationalization. And Charley would have to have an explanation rather than think that someone had sneaked in while she was out and stolen it.

  Served her right, the sneaky cow. She should have just had a one-night stand.

  When I was twenty – ah, yes, the Mark episode. By that time, I’d given Mark two years of my life but it seemed I hadn’t learned my lesson regarding Brendan. Mark gave me two years of grief, three cracked ribs, and a broken wrist, and left me with a stomach condition that I was stuck with for life, due to the number of times he punched me in it. He was an evil shit, controlling. If he couldn’t have me, then no one could have me. Everything I did was wrong. He wanted to be in charge of me and I let him at first because I took his possessiveness for caring. I wanted him to love me and I thought that was his way of showing me.

  I can’t recall things exactly but I’d been staying at a friend’s bed-sit for a couple of weeks when I met him. She was someone I knew from the streets and had been lucky enough to get her own place. It was a doss hole but it was a roof over my head, too. A few nights into my stay, I met Mark. He was one of her friends and he wowed me to begin with. Well, I reckon, back in the day, anyone would have wowed me if they took a bit of notice of me; I was such a mess. I used alcohol to wash away the memories of my shit life, to block everything out. So anyone taking an interest in my skinny figure, my unwashed hair and clothes, got more than a smile from me. They got my body.

  I moved in with Mark two weeks after we met. And from that moment on, he owned me. He wouldn’t let me go out on my own. If he went out, he wanted me to stay in. In the end, I became his housemaid and bed maid – when he let me sleep in his bed.

  By six months, I was so reliant, so brainwashed by him, that I would have done anything he said because he loved me. But he said he could only screw me when he was drunk. I liked it better when I was drunk too; it didn’t hurt. When he was drunk and woke me up at three in the morning to force himself into me, that was when it hurt the most. That was when I closed my eyes and went to my special place; pictured myself running through a meadow with my daughter, Amy.

  One night, as Mark came at me with his fists, I curled up in a ball in the corner of the room. But after he had done the damage and stood there catching his breath, I grabbed the lamp on the bedside table and hit him with the base. I think it was a survival mechanism. It knocked him sideways and onto the bed. I wasn’t sure if I’d killed him or if he’d passed out but suddenly I didn’t want to find out. I grabbed a few things together, dressed quickly, and checked his wallet, stole the money in there – two hundred quid! Where the hell did he get that from?

  That two hundred quid got me far away from Mark. Far enough away to give me the opportunity to get cleaned up and clear my head. But I never did. I was too obsessed with why Mark didn’t love me. Why wasn’t I good enough for him to treat properly? He was just like Brendan – making me beg for love. I did too – when he was drunk and wanted me to screw him, he’d turn the tables around and he’d make me ask him to be screwed. And then he would screw me, good and hard. Brutal and harsh. I hated him but I loved him too. He told me all the time that no one else would want to touch me, that I disgusted him.

  He hated me but he would still shag me.

  I can’t for the life of me think why I stayed with him. I was better than that but he made me feel worthless, like a piece of shit. He used to laugh at me and scream obscenities into my face as he pumped away at me, as he rammed my face into his cock. I was his bitch, his whore, his good-for-nothing girl he could bang and abuse whenever he wanted to. And why did I stay with him? Because I thought he would change. Because I thought he loved me.

  Luckily for me, I walked out. Not early enough to come away without any physical damage but early enough for him not to kill me with a punch too many. I heard he got sent down for GBH in the end so who’s laughing now, you silly, stupid, little fucker. Who’s laughing now?

  Why aren’t I in control? Do I attract men who will abuse me? Do I look for men to use me? I just want to be loved. Why won’t anyone love me? I’m not a horrible person. I would love someone back. I did love someone back once.

  I was never safe with Mark but I didn’t realise that at the time. I hate him now. He made me doubt myself. He helped me turn into the monster I am today. Him and Billie and Brendan. I hate them. I hate them ALL. Bastards, bastards, BASTARDS!

  Jean was coming to the end of a row of knitting when she’d seen Charley leaving the house. Before she started the next one, she noted down the time: 13:23. Her eyes followed her down the pavement towards her car, and on as she walked straight past it. She wondered where she was going; obviously not far by foot. Perhaps she needed some fresh air after her night out.

  Jean couldn’t believe that Charley had stayed out all night with Ella. Even more so, she’d been flabbergasted when they’d been dropped off by a man whom Charley then went on to kiss passionately. Well, Jean couldn’t see that closely, but she could use her imagination. She wondered if he was a new man on the scene or someone she’d been courting for a while. Perhaps he’d been away on holiday, or working abroad since she’d moved and had now come back to rekindle the fire. All the same, she hoped this one would return, unlike the men Ella brought home. It wouldn’t do to have two promiscuous women in the same house.

  What surprised her most was that Charley had gone out with Ella. She wasn’t quite sure why but she didn’t look the type to get up to the things that she saw Ella doing. Her mind worked overtime, speculating again about whether they had known each other previously. Perhaps they had been more than friends. For all she knew, Charley might like entertaining men, just like Ella. The place might even become a brothel!

  Jean chastised herself. She knew that the woman wouldn’t be anywhere near as promiscuous as Ella. After watching Charley’s routine for four weeks now, she could tell she wasn’t away with the fairies like Ella. Just as well, really.

  ‘Time for a cuppa, I think,’ she said to the cat sitting in the window.

  Once tea was made, glancing into Ella’s window as she settled down again, Jean was pleased to see her upstairs. She didn’t like it when she went downstairs to Charley’s flat. It wasn’t right that Ella stole in when she wasn’t there, snooping through her belongings.

  She peered closer. What on earth was the stupid girl up to now? She’d slipped off her dressing gown and was naked again – dancing, swaying an arm around and over her body. Her hands touched her breasts and then moved lower over her stomach, down further. Oh, my, it looked like she was going to…no! Jean wouldn’t watch, thank you very much.

  ‘Close your eyes, Tom. You’re too innocent for that.’

  When Charley arrived back over an hour later, Ella stood by the side of her window. Dressed in her gown, she held high a glass half full of Charley’s wine, raising a toast to her as she climbed the steps to the door. Charley had indeed been to the shop – she was carrying a small carrier bag. It didn’t look too heavy; probably a few essentials needed to get her through the day. Ella guessed she must have been somewhere else too because it didn’t take that long to walk around the aisles.

  She smiled widely, already imagining her jumping with fright at the sight of Dan’s photo moving all on its own. She sipped the wine – Charley had good taste. It was a lovely blend.

 
Any second now, Charley would go into the living room and be spooked! She laughed; she couldn’t help herself. Spooked was such a silly word.

  She prayed that Charley would realise the cube had moved. It was only a slight trick, but she would, wouldn’t she? And maybe before Ella visited the flat again, she could think of something else to do that would spook her, make Charley come running to her for comfort. It would be easy to wreck her life if she didn’t play ball.

  Charley let herself into the flat and closed the door quietly behind her. Even a walk in the fresh air hadn’t help to ease the throbbing in her head. But she’d just received a text message from Aaron that had her all of a giggle.

  She went through to the living room, her heart leaping into her throat when she saw the photo-cube of Dan on the end of the sideboard. She must have caught it on her way out of the room this morning, although she couldn’t recall knocking it.

  She picked it up, smiling half-heartedly, and wondered if Dan would approve of Aaron. He was…No, she wouldn’t think of the similarities. She didn’t need to compare; it wouldn’t be fair.

  It had been strange to wake up with Aaron that morning but it had certainly broken the ice. She’d felt so warm when they’d kissed and it had been good to be in someone’s arms again after so long. To be with a man, feel his need, feel her arousal. Emotions she’d long ago locked away and buried had surfaced in seconds, and it excited her.

  It scared her too.

  Was she ready to be with someone new? Only time would tell.

  Without another thought, she put Dan’s photo-cube back in its original place.

  Chapter Fifteen

  At work the next morning, Charley was at her desk, Lynne at hers, when she spotted Aaron walking through the office. He winked at her as he went past. She grinned like a happy five-year-old, praying he would keep discreet about their rendezvous. She wasn’t going to tell anyone yet. But her reddening skin gave her away.