Watching Over You

by Sherratt, Mel

  ‘It’s what I wanted. You know the rules.’

  ‘Fuck you! I needed more than that.’

  ‘You would have got more if you hadn’t thrown a strop in the middle of it. What was all that “I don’t want to see your face” shit?’

  ‘It was true!’

  ‘Not, it wasn’t. It was the way I like it.’

  ‘Yeah, right.’

  ‘You didn’t even have the decency to get dressed for me, make an effort, so it works both ways.’

  Ella frowned in confusion.

  ‘You’re in your dressing gown, easy access for a quick fuck that tells me; so that’s what I gave you. If you wanted more, you would have dressed for me. Not dressing means you don’t give a shit who I am or what I do as long as you get your rocks off.’

  Understanding now, Ella knew he was right but she would never give him the satisfaction of telling him so.

  ‘You’re wrong,’ she said instead.

  ‘Am I?’ Michael paused, as if weighing up the situation. He shook his head. ‘You’re weird. So unless there’s anything else on offer, I’m leaving.’

  ‘Fuck off, then.’ Ella folded her arms.

  Michael pulled on his shirt and jacket. She watched his every move.

  ‘That’s it, then?’ he asked.

  Ella nodded. But as he turned to the door, she realised he was actually going to leave. She thought he’d been joking. How dare he! He needed to fight for her. Wasn’t she even worthy of that? The selfish fuck-wit! Picking up a book from the coffee table, she struck him on the back of his head.

  He cried out in pain. ‘What the –’

  Seeing him turn towards her, she drew it back to hit him again.

  Michael wrestled the book from her hands, threw it to the floor and her onto the settee. He pinned her down with his body as she thrashed about to shift his weight. Then his hands were inside her dressing gown again, fingers searching. She stopped struggling and pulled him close. God, she needed to feel him inside her, no matter how annoyed he was.

  She kissed his lips, his cheeks, his lips again. But he didn’t respond. Looking into his eyes, she pressed down on his hand, arching her back to greet him.

  Then he stopped. ‘You’d let me, wouldn’t you?’

  His breath was shallow but Ella couldn’t make out if it was from lust or anger.

  ‘Yes, I’d let you,’ she replied. Her eyes never left his. God, she wanted him inside her! ‘I need to be fucked.’

  He sat up abruptly. ‘I’m going to leave.’

  ‘You can’t! Not yet.’ Desperately, she pulled him back but he knocked away her arm. She followed him down the hallway, levelling with him at the door. As he opened it, she slammed it shut again.

  ‘No.’ She pushed him up against the wall and kissed him. Still he resisted, grabbing for her wrists, pushing her away. She tried to remove his jacket again but it was no use; he was too strong. When she knew she was beat, she slapped his face.

  ‘You bastard,’ she said, tears now falling. ‘You bastard.’

  He let her cry for a few seconds and calm down before he pushed her into the opposite wall. He mirrored her actions by pressing his body up against hers, but he didn’t try to kiss her. Instead, he looked at her with contempt.

  ‘I know the games we play can be dangerous but you’re lucky that I don’t hit women,’ he seethed. ‘Because if I did, I’d have knocked your fucking head off by now.’

  Ella didn’t dare speak. Her black mood was mounting again, pushing her anger nearer and nearer to the surface. She had to control it; otherwise, she would lash out again.

  Eventually, after a few seconds to catch his breath, Michael released his grip and stepped away.

  Ella didn’t trust herself to move. Her eyes flitted around for something to grab but there was nothing of significance.

  Michael opened the door, turning one last time before he left. ‘I don’t think I’ll be rating this visit as five-star-fun on the website. You need to get some help.’

  Ella slammed the door behind him and slid to the floor in a heap.

  What the hell was happening to her? Michael was right: she did need help. But she couldn’t go to see her social worker and be patronised for failing. Every time she went back, it was harder to do it all over again when she went off the rails. It was like someone else’s mind took over her body, took control of her thoughts and made her do things.

  ‘All I want is to be loved,’ she whispered, tears beginning to build. She pulled herself up and went into the bedroom, stepped into the closet. She closed the door and sat in the dark. Wrapping her arms around her knees, she cried herself to sleep.

  I was a shadow back then – a weak individual who let people use and abuse me but then I tried to change. I learned my lesson after that fuck-wit Mark laid into me. The next relationship I had, I was in control.

  I was the abuser.

  What? You think I should take it all my life but not give it back? I don’t think so.

  To overpower someone, I chose a woman. Her name was Nina and God, I loved her. I was with her for three years. It was a great time for me. The first two years were good for her, the last one not so much. You see, through all the years of abuse I’d had, I knew where to hit her, where it would hurt but the marks wouldn’t be seen.

  It started with a harsh push away every now and again when we were bickering. Then it changed to the odd slap when we were arguing. Eventually, I punched her in the face, and bent her arm up behind her back while she begged me to stop. Then a swift kick to the stomach after we’d had sex one night. After that, the violence escalated to a more regular basis, along with verbal use – I was telling her what she could and couldn’t do, what to wear, who she couldn’t see; taking control of her money. Why did I do that? I don’t know.

  Yet she never retaliated. She loved me, did Nina. And I turned that love to hate.

  I hadn’t realised I’d become a monster, that I enjoyed being in control for once in my life. Not that I needed to be. Nina wouldn’t have hurt me. She loved ME.

  What was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I treat someone who loved me with respect? I loved Nina but instead I pushed her away. I wasn’t good enough for her.

  On the night before she left, high on whatever drug I was on and fuelled by alcohol, I beat Nina bad. I can’t remember much about it now. All I can recall is she was in a terrible way and once she’d come out of A&E, she headed off to her mum’s. She didn’t want to be with me, said she needed space.

  We live in the same city yet I haven’t seen her since. I called at her mum’s but she wouldn’t tell me where she was, despite my protests. Maybe she moved away. Maybe she still lives in the Potteries. Or maybe she got a train from Stoke Station and got as far away as she could. She was damaged – by me! I damaged her.

  Oh, God, I missed Nina so much. Looking back on this now makes me realise that I was so wrong. I was scared and I hurt her because I was hurting. Was it because she was nice to me? Didn’t I feel that I deserved a little happiness?

  Why did I hurt her? Because it sure as fuck didn’t make me feel any better.

  Me – the abuser. ME!

  Surely that can’t be right?

  Jake had been amazed to get two sessions out of Ella that night. Man, the bitch was horny, touching herself to orgasm while staring at him – right at him! It was such a turn-on. He had to have her soon.

  And he knew now that she wanted him. She’d started to play with herself more often in the window, wanting him to see what she had on offer. Maybe he could instigate a meeting somehow, bump into her outside when she came out of the house. It would work if she had a set routine, like that other woman, Charley, who was as regular as clockwork now. It was a pity she’d got herself a fella: Jake wouldn’t mind a threesome. Even though he doubted Charley would be game, it didn’t stop him dreaming of th
em both.

  His phone rang.

  ‘Where are you, mate?’ his friend, Will, wanted to know. ‘You said you’d be here half an hour ago. I’m standing like a lemon on my own.’

  ‘I’m coming,’ said Jake. ‘I’ll be with you in ten.’

  He disconnected the call and sniggered. He was definitely coming. Just one more time and then he’d be gone.

  Next door, Jean was certain she wouldn’t catch Charley doing what Ella had been doing now. It had been quite a show again; she’d written it down in her notebook.

  20:24 Ella had a male visitor.

  He’d arrived in a dark grey hatchback, the suit he wore practically the same colour. Jean thought he looked more like he was dressed for work; from what she’d seen of the visitors Ella usually invited, he seemed too smart for a date.

  She’d dropped a stitch when she’d next looked, spotting Ella bent over the settee with him standing behind. She’d reached for her binoculars to take a closer look, but by this time they were apart, facing each other like alley cats about to pounce. She’d leant further forward to see what was going on just in time for them to drop onto the settee and she hadn’t been able to see any more.

  But she’d been surprised to see him leaving some five minutes later. Some date that had been! He must have had his fill and left. Not a very nice man in her eyes.

  20:57 Ella’s male visitor left.

  It was wrong what Ella got up to. Jean didn’t disapprove of women having sex, not at all, but she couldn’t understand why Ella felt the need to sleep with so many men. She wondered again about her sexual appetite. She obviously used sex as a comfort blanket – Jean had seen it so many times during her working life. Kids and women abused by men whom they should have been able to trust.

  Nothing to see at Ella’s window now; she looked up and down the avenue and sighed, wondering why she expected anything else. Apart from the odd erotic display from Ella, nothing of interest ever happened in Warwick Avenue. But then again, it was everyday events that triggered off bigger problems, most of the time. She doubted many of the people who committed atrocities got up thinking ‘I’m going to kill someone this morning.’

  Still, she mused, her knitting needles clickety-clicking away, it wouldn’t do for everyone to live the same, day after day. And she should know. The day she lost her job at Ravenside Children’s Home had started out like any other but it had ended as anything but.

  And she would always keep that hush-hush.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Ella couldn’t believe it when she’d messaged Charley on Saturday afternoon and again she said she was going out with Aaron. She speculated whether she was trying to tell her something in a roundabout way but at the same time didn’t really want to know. Trying not to dwell on it, she lined up a date for that night with a client from One Night Only. Soon she’d be heading to watch a show in the Cultural Quarter of Hanley and then on to a club afterwards. Dirty Dancing was showing at the Regent Theatre and if her date was lucky she might get some dirty dancing of her own.

  It had been a long time since she’d gone out on a date for anything but sex. Even so, she dressed carefully in anticipation of what was to come later. Her thoughts returned to Charley as she put on a vivid-blue scant bra and brief set, feeling the silkiness against her skin. Ella wondered if Charley and Aaron had fucked yet; had he tasted her, run his tongue all over her, felt every inch of her? She lay back on her bed, seeing them in her mind, almost feeling she could reach out and touch them. It led to a delicious thought which took her to orgasm twice before she’d finished the fantasy. Maybe they would let her watch, she surmised – maybe they would let her join in! It had been a while since she’d had a threesome. Most of the time, her partners found her enough on her own.

  She was meeting Sabrina that evening. Her profile picture looked that of a young woman, quite butch in stature but feminine in looks. Her face was fresh – no more than twenty at a push.

  She slipped into her heels, knocked back the vodka, and poured another. She wanted to be pissed by the time she got there so she wouldn’t be thinking of Charley.

  Aaron took Charley out for dinner to a restaurant just off Piccadilly. Marlon’s had been in Hanley since 1985. Charley had been a few times with Dan before he’d died but not since. It was a small, intimate restaurant, two-thirds full already when they arrived, and would, no doubt, be overflowing come ten o’clock once the show was over. Aaron ordered Quattro Stagioni and Charley chose Pizza della Casa.

  Over the past few nights, Charley had enjoyed herself so much with Aaron that her nerves had gone and she felt comfortable with him now. She glanced at him covertly as they sipped coffee afterwards. There was so much she didn’t know about him, yet so much she wanted to learn. And she realised, with a childish sense of excitement, there was going to be time to do just that.

  The air between them became electric with expectation.

  Aaron reached forward and ran the tip of his finger over the top of her hand. ‘I’ve had another great evening,’ he said. ‘I can’t believe you’re this much fun!’

  Charley snatched her hand away in mock indignation. ‘And there was me thinking you were trying to seduce me with that one finger thing.’

  Aaron gasped. ‘You said the “S” word. You are so naughty.’

  ‘Well…’ Charley kept her eyes locked on his, ‘it’s bound to happen, isn’t it?’

  ‘I bloody well hope so!’ He grinned. ‘But, you take your time. I’ll wait another week maybe.’

  ‘You’re impossible!’

  ‘Irresistible!’ He sighed loudly. ‘You should have said I’m irresistible.’

  ‘I wouldn’t be telling the truth.’

  ‘I’m deeply hurt by that remark.’ Aaron picked up his napkin and dabbed away imaginary tears.

  Charley reached for his hand this time. ‘I am, however, really glad we got together last weekend. I must admit, I did think you were joking and jesting while we were at work and I’m sure I wouldn’t have thought anything more unless we hadn’t…’

  ‘Slept together?’ He raised his eyebrows.

  ‘Yes, so to speak.’

  ‘We didn’t do anything but speak,’ he teased.

  ‘Like I said, I’m sure we can rectify that later.’

  Aaron leaned closer so that the group of women celebrating a birthday at the next table couldn’t hear him. ‘If you don’t stop with the insinuations, I’m going to push everything off this table, bend you over it, and have my wicked way with you right now,’ he said quietly.

  Charley choked on the wine she was sipping. Aaron certainly drew a thin line between flirting and downright cockiness – he was determined to let her know what his intentions were, even if she hadn’t already been sure from the get-go. Still, it was good that she knew he was joking, because she might be ready to be cocky back – well, kind of. She’d really enjoyed spending time with him that week, getting to know him better.

  She held up a hand to signal she was okay as a waitress came rushing over. ‘You are too funny!’ Her voice was laced with sarcasm. ‘I might have to persist with the insinuations because of that.’

  Aaron paused. ‘I think I’d better take you home and we can continue our conversation there.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘No?’

  Charley felt a shake in her hand as she put down her wine glass. She wasn’t sure if she’d be able to make love with Aaron but if she did make a fool of herself, well, she’d want it to be with him. He would understand; she’d still be able to take things slowly afterwards. He knew what a big moment it would be for her. Her stomach flipped over as she thought about it. But she wasn’t going to give up. She spoke out before she changed her mind, her voice sounding more confident than she felt.

  ‘You can take me home but I don’t want to talk,’ she said softly. ‘I think action will speak lo
uder than words on this occasion.’

  Another pause. Then Aaron waved frantically to get the waitress’s attention.

  ‘Could we have the bill please?’

  Ella paced up and down in her living room. She wanted to stop the feeling of betrayal but knew it wouldn’t go away – not until Aaron left. He was downstairs with Charley. They were most probably fucking right this minute.

  Desperately, she tried to hold in the scream threatening to escape. And she’d had such a great time with Sabrina. For once, the sex had been gentle and kind. She’d been fun to be with – a dream to make love to. They’d enjoyed the theatre and headed for a club, but after a heavy petting session, they’d got a cab back to Warwick Avenue. Ella had been about to take her to bed and, while Sabrina went to freshen up beforehand, she’d been standing in the window when Aaron pulled up outside the building and got out of the car with Charley. The lingering kiss he gave her on the pavement told Ella everything. They couldn’t keep their hands off each other either.

  Still, it had been okay. Because while Sabrina had skilfully and gently brought her to orgasm, she’d imagined Charley and Aaron lying directly below her in their bed doing the same. But afterwards, she couldn’t get the image from her mind, no matter how much fun she’d had with Sabrina. She’d fallen asleep next to her but Ella couldn’t rest. Instead, she’d listened for the entrance door, the signal that Aaron had gone home. But there had been nothing. Shortly after three thirty, she’d got up and gone in to the living room. His car was still there when she’d looked out of the window. Damn that fucking man!

  She stopped pacing and went to the window again. The car would still be there, she knew. No doubt they would be screwing. And if they weren’t screwing, they would be lying together with legs entwined, arms wrapped around each other, or he would be spooned into her back, as new lovers do.

  Tears pricked her eyes. It was always the same.

  Of course it’s always the same. Nobody wants to be with you for more than one night.