by Paul Taylor
"What'd you do that for?" said Kath, yanking her blouse undone so hard that one of the buttons popped off and flew across the room.
"Do what for?" said Neil, pulling on his boxers.
"You know perfectly well what," said Kath. "What did you and your mates treat Ben like that for?"
The pastel yellow walls of their bedroom glowed in the light from the low lamps on either side of the bed. In the soft light Kath couldn't quite make out the dangerous look on Neil's face. The look that would usually make her think twice before saying anything else.
"I didn't invite him," said Neil in a quiet voice. "I didn't want him there. He's not my friend."
"I know," said Kath. "But it would have been nice if you had—"
"If I had what, Kath?" said Neil, standing at the far side of the bed, still not getting in despite already being in his pyjamas. "If I had welcomed him with open arms? Treated him like my best buddy?"
"Well," started Kath and that was as far as she got.
"I don't like him," said Neil. "I never liked him. I can't even work out why you invited him along in the first place. As a matter of fact," he went on, and now he came around her side of the bed. "Why did you invite him, Kath? Why did you ask your old boyfriend to come out with us?"
Kath could see Neil's face clearly now. Could see that twisted look it had taken on and she started to wish she'd never even brought the subject up. A fish-hook of fear curled through her lower stomach.
"He's just come back into town. I knew he hadn't seen anyone so I thought the pub would be a good opportunity—"
"Good opportunity for what?" snapped Neil. "A good opportunity to reminisce over old times? Talk about what a good fuck he was?"
"No," said Kath. "Nothing like that. I thought he'd like to see his friends, is all. Catch up—"
"Catch up where he left off, ay?" growled Neil. "Maybe duck off while your faithful, loving husband was enjoying a night out with his mates and let him jump your bones? Just for old times' sake?"
"I wasn't—" Kath started to say, her eyes red and starting to tear up.
"Don't lie to me!" Neil's hand flicked out and slapped her across the cheek and she cried out. "I bet you would've liked to bring him back here and fuck him in our house, wouldn't you? In our bed?!?" This last seemed to send him into a towering rage and the hand flicked out again, laying across the other side of her face this time with a sharp, ringing slap.
Kath cried out and stumbled backwards, tears running down her face now, wetting her reddened cheeks.
"What do you have to say for yourself, huh?" said Neil, leaning right over her so that she could smell his sour odour of beer and cigarette smoke and sweat. In some far-off corner of her mind that wasn't quailing with fear like a trapped bird, she saw that he had an erection tenting out the front of his boxers. Poking right in her face, she could have head-butted it if she wanted to. She felt a sudden insane urge to do just that, but she knew that would only make things much worse.
Kath tried to back away from him and he followed her, backing her into a corner of their bedroom where she couldn't move. She was sandwiched between the wall and the cupboard as he crowded over her, pushing his face right up in hers.
"Huh?" he screamed right into her face, coating it with a fine spray of spittle. "Whattaya have to say for yourself you cheating bitch! Tell me!! Were you going to fuck him? Were you? Arranging to meet him and getting all hot and sweaty remembering the feeling of his puny little cock poking at you?"
"I just," she stammered, cowering and quivering like a rabbit that had been granted a sudden awareness of what that long, black barrelled stick the farmer holds really does. "I don't want to fuck him! I don't even like him anymore!"
"What?" said Neil. "I can't hear you!"
"I said, I don't like him!" Kath almost screamed it.
Neil's hand shot into her hair and seized a handful of it, yanking her head back. Kath gritted her teeth and tried not to cry out again even as cords stood out on her neck from the pain.
"Don't... you... ever," another yank for emphasis and she felt hair tear from her scalp, "raise your voice to me again. Got it?"
His voice was so low Kath had to struggle to hear him. And when she couldn't immediately make out what he'd said he pulled her head back further.
"Do you understand?" he bellowed.
"Yes," gasped Kath. "Please... let me go... you're..."
"Not yet," he said in a pleasant voice. "What's the rest? 'Yes', what?"
"Yes, Neil, I'm sorry. I will never raise my voice to you again," she finished this last all in a watery gasp with the blood roaring in her ears and black spots butterflying across her vision.
Neil leaned in so close it looked as though he might kiss her. But his bared teeth and wide eyes, showing too much white, gave the lie to that.
"You'd better not," he whispered. "Now," he let her go and suddenly his voice was cheerful again. Dangerously so. "What were you saying about me old mate, Ben?"
Kath was gasping for breath and it took her a second or two to reply.
"I said, I never want to see him again. He's not even half the man you are," she said. No, he's twice the man you'll ever be, she thought. And felt like adding that Neil's dick was the puny one, especially compared to Ben. But of course she didn't.
"And don't you forget it," said Neil. "Ever." He turned and climbed into bed and was snoring ten minutes later while his wife huddled into the corner and cried silently.
CHAPTER EIGHT