‘You’re not going to nod off and nosedive into your plate, are you?’
I look down to find my dinner has been placed in front of me. The duck breast has a golden, crispy skin and there’s a haze of spice-scented steam coming from the noodles. ‘It smells delicious.’
‘It tastes pretty good too,’ says Charlie with his mouth full.
As I begin to eat, I want to think of the food and the man who prepared it for me, but Charlie’s thoughtful act is a shining light that intensifies the shadows creeping into our lives. This isn’t how Meg, or Ellie, or Gemma were ever treated.
‘Is there any more news about that girl?’ Charlie asks.
Guilt tightens my chest. Charlie isn’t used to me sharing information about our helpline callers and he must think I trust him implicitly to have told him as much as I have about Gemma this week. I do trust him, but talking about Gemma has been nothing more than a diversionary tactic to stop him asking what else has been playing on my mind since my shift on Wednesday.
‘Ruth was on the phone for hours with her mum again today,’ I reply. ‘We can’t find a space at any of the refuges so she was checking to see if there’s anyone in the wider family, away from Liverpool, who might take her in. Unfortunately, the mum’s insisting her daughter comes home. She thinks staying will show the boyfriend that they can stand up to him, but I doubt he’ll care.’
‘Would he assault her?’
‘It doesn’t sound like he’s ever threatened violence, aside from suggesting he was going to kill himself, but I wouldn’t like to predict what he’ll do if she breaks up with him again.’
‘You make it sound like she’d be better off staying where she is.’
A piece of duck sticks in my throat and I take a sip of wine to dislodge it. ‘It’s never the better option, and that’s why Ruth spent today coaching the mum on how to approach her daughter and convince her to leave. She’s going to have to tread very carefully. The boyfriend monitors her calls and takes her to and from work. The only time we’re sure she’s on her own is when she goes shopping and he waits in the car park. She’s been timing her trips for when the helpline’s open.’
‘You mean now?’
I nod. ‘With any luck, she’ll be too busy to call us tonight. Her mum’s waiting for her at the supermarket and if Ruth has worked her magic, she’ll take her daughter for a cup of coffee, sit her down and listen while the girl decides for herself what she should do. We’re not expecting anything to happen immediately, not with the boyfriend close by, but we’re hoping they’ll come up with a plan to get her away from him soon.’
‘Fingers crossed it works.’
‘It’s what comes next that worries me but there are precautions they can take, and it’s going to be worth it in the long term.’
The music has stopped playing and we lapse into silence. When my pulse quickens, it’s as if I’m climbing the stairs again but my body is simply responding to the decision I made when I reached the top.
‘I know you’re exhausted,’ Charlie says before I can speak. ‘And I could have picked my moment better, but I wanted us to have a serious conversation.’
‘About?’ I ask, swallowing back my confession.
He clears his throat. ‘I know you don’t want to go down the official route,’ he begins, waggling the third finger of his left hand, ‘but there are other ways we can put down some proper roots.’ He coughs again. ‘This apartment has been great but our lease is up next year and I’d really like us to buy a place of our own. A house.’
‘Oh.’ I’m too preoccupied with the present to have energy to spare on the future, but Charlie is waiting for a proper response and I have to say something. ‘But it would take ages to save up for a deposit and my job isn’t exactly stable. What if we get a mortgage but can’t keep up with the repayments? And if there is spare cash, shouldn’t you be reinvesting it in the company?’
‘Not in us?’
‘I’m not saying it’s a bad idea. It’s a lovely idea.’
‘But I could have chosen my moment better,’ Charlie adds. He’s playing with his food, as am I.
‘I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Charlie. You do know that, don’t you?’
As I search his face, I catch a glimpse of the scar on the bridge of his nose. He got it during a fight, and although he never told me why he and Lewis came to blows, I don’t have to try too hard to imagine the cause. I want Charlie to know that the kiss meant nothing, and I hope the smile returning to his face confirms that he already does.
‘Of course,’ he says. ‘Which is why I can’t help picturing us in a little three-bed semi somewhere out of the city but within walking distance of a station.’
‘Three bedrooms?’ I ask, forcing myself to join in.
‘Your mum did suggest four to make room for her next batch of grandkids.’
My fork clatters against my plate. ‘You’ve spoken to Mum?’
Charlie laughs. ‘No, I was only teasing, but it’s nice to know that what made you baulk was your mum being involved and not the idea of us having kids one day.’
I’m smiling, too. I want to reach out and embrace the new tomorrow he’s offering but I know how illusory the future can be. Life isn’t a simple matter of making plans and keeping to them. We’ve tried that before and my mind takes me back to one such conversation.
It was Meg’s seventeenth birthday and although none of us knew it at the time, we were entering what would be her final year. We were gathered around the dining table with Sean sitting next to me and Geoff next to him. Opposite were Ruth and Meg, and directly in front of me was Lewis.
‘What are your plans when you leave sixth form, Lewis?’ Ruth had asked politely. It was the first time they had met and she had been impressed with the story of how he and his mum had escaped difficult circumstances and were beginning a brave new life without family or friends.
Lewis had been going all out to impress, arriving with a bottle of wine for his host and a gift for Meg which he’d held back. Full of arrogance, he presumed he and Meg would spend time alone in her room before dinner but Geoff had made it clear that Lewis was not allowed upstairs, and I’d had the unenviable task of chaperoning them in the sitting room while her parents prepared dinner. Every time Lewis looked at me, I cringed inwardly as I imagined him recalling that kiss.
‘I’m going to study for a sports degree,’ he said, looking decidedly studious in his wire-rimmed glasses.
Geoff’s eyes narrowed. ‘Which university?’
I was expecting Lewis to say Newcastle, which was where Meg wanted to go. ‘John Moores, so staying put in Liverpool.’
‘And what do you expect to do with a sports degree?’ Geoff continued, sounding more suspicious than interested in Lewis’s future prospects.
Lewis shrugged. ‘Get a good job.’
‘So he can buy me more presents,’ Meg said, eyeing the gift bag Lewis had left at the side of his chair.
‘You think you’ll still be together after uni?’ Sean asked. He paused to deflect the glare from his sister before adding, ‘I’m just saying. Long distance relationships don’t always work.’
‘I can always jump on the train and surprise her,’ Lewis replied.
‘Not too often,’ Geoff said, looking to his daughter. ‘You don’t want to underestimate the amount of study required at university. It would be better if you had no distractions, Megan.’
‘The same goes for you, Lewis,’ Ruth added.
Meg rolled her eyes. ‘Sean manages, and he has loads of girlfriends.’
Another staring contest ensued between the siblings.
‘What about you, Jen?’ asked Ruth. ‘Are you going to have Charlie distracting you from your further education?’
Before I could answer, Meg laughed. ‘Romance is further education, Mother!’
‘If we’ve all finished, I’ll clear away the plates,’ Geoff said, rising to his feet at the same time as my aunt.
The moment they
had left the room, Meg turned to Lewis. ‘Quick, they’ll be back in a minute with the cake. Can I have my present now?’
I turned to Sean to make a point of having no interest in the conversation on the other side of the table. ‘When are you due back at uni?’
‘In a couple of weeks,’ he replied. ‘I can’t wait.’
There was the sound of rustling as Meg pulled the tissue-covered gift from the bag. I had expected a gasp but there was only silence that went on too long. Unable to stop myself, I looked to find Meg clasping a yellow silk scarf printed with splashes of blood-orange, and the horror on her face has come back to haunt me more than a decade later.
I hadn’t understood why she would look so terrified, but I do now.
‘I didn’t mean straight away,’ Charlie is telling me. The concern in his voice pulls me back to the present.
It takes me a moment to pick up the thread of the conversation I’d let drop. Children. ‘It’s fine, I want them too,’ I say, but my reassurance sounds weak. My hands are clammy and there’s a coldness creeping into my fingers. ‘But right now I’d rather not think about bringing children into this shitty world.’
Charlie leans over the table towards me. ‘If and when we do have kids, I won’t let anyone hurt them, just like I won’t let anyone hurt you.’
‘You can’t always know what’s going on inside other people’s heads.’
‘Why don’t you start by telling me what’s going on in yours?’
My stomach heaves when I say, ‘There’s something I need to tell you. Actually, there are a lot of things I need to tell you, but you have to promise to give me the chance to speak this time.’
‘This time?’
‘It’s about Meg, and Lewis and well, everything.’
He sits back. ‘Tell me.’
‘I know Meg wasn’t perfect,’ I begin. ‘And when I told Sean what you’d said about her being self-destructive, he actually agreed. He’d found something on her computer once to do with sexual experimentation and on the face of it, it looked like what Meg was doing was consensual. The police would have thought so too, which is why he kept quiet after she died. Like most of us, he never doubted that Lewis was the one who made her do things so shameful, she would rather die than carry on.’
Charlie’s cheeks redden: I don’t need to tell him that he remains alone in thinking Meg brought out the worst in people.
‘The thing is, it wasn’t consensual, Charlie. Ruth showed me a page from Meg’s notepad this week. She only found it recently and it’s relatively abstract, but the message is clear. Meg wasn’t a willing participant in their games. She only survived her ordeals by withdrawing into herself while he did what he did.’
‘Is Ruth going to the police with it?’
‘She already has, and apparently they don’t think it’s enough to reopen the case. I could try to persuade Sean to tell them what he knows, but I’m not sure what that would achieve. And to be honest, I’m more concerned with what’s happening now than what happened ten years ago.’
Charlie’s expression is a mixture of shock, guilt and confusion. He wipes glistening sweat from his upper lip before he asks, ‘What do you mean?’
‘What I’m about to tell you cannot go any further,’ I warn. ‘It’s about someone I’ve been talking to on the helpline.’
‘It’s not like I’ve said anything about that other girl, and I wouldn’t.’
‘This is different. This is the caller I’ve been dreading and she begged me not to tell anyone, not even Ruth. Especially not Ruth. It would break her if she knew he’s doing it again.’
‘Wait, are you saying you’re talking to someone connected to Lewis?’ Charlie asks, his mouth agape.
This is no hypothetical scenario this time and I have to take it slowly, because I need Charlie’s reaction to be the right one. ‘I didn’t trust anything she said the first time she called. She’d seen Ruth’s interview and made a point of telling me Lewis was innocent. She knew who I was and that I’d been close to Meg, so I thought maybe he’d coerced her into calling the helpline. It was only when she phoned again that I realised she was terrified of him, by which point I’d made things worse by approaching Lewis when all she’d been trying to do was defuse the situation. That’s when I panicked and messed up the call with Gemma.’
‘Gemma?’
I’m too tired to pick my way through the conversation without naming names. If I can’t trust Charlie, I shouldn’t be talking to him at all. ‘Gemma is the other caller, the one Ruth’s been dealing with this week,’ I explain. ‘Ellie is Lewis’s girlfriend, or at least that’s the name she uses. Her real name is Ioana.’
‘Tell me about her.’
‘Apparently Lewis thinks she looks like Meg and he likes to pretend she is her when they’re having sex, hurting her in exactly the same way,’ I say. ‘She says he’s full of apologies afterwards but that doesn’t stop him doing it again, and again.’
Charlie falls quiet, his lips pressed firmly together until he’s ready to speak. ‘You should have told me what’s been going on, Jen. I know I’ve been saying all the wrong things lately but you should have told me.’
I drop my gaze. ‘I wasn’t ready to face those questions I know you’re trying not to ask, like how do I know for certain that she is who she says she is. And the truth is, I can’t prove a thing because she hasn’t actually named him. She’s too scared.’
‘Is it possible her boyfriend is completely unconnected to us?’ Charlie asks when I dare to look up. ‘He might be some nutter re-enacting fantasies he created in his head after seeing Meg in the news.’
I can’t read Charlie’s stony expression but from his tone, he’s willing to hear me out. ‘After her last call on Wednesday, I have absolutely no doubt it’s Lewis. The man Ellie talks about gave her some special gifts – silk scarves – and insisted she keep them by the bed. Now, any weirdo could have picked up from the inquest records that Meg used her scarves to hang herself but only someone who had been close to her would know that she kept her collection on her bedpost. I bet if I ask Sean, he’ll confirm that what Lewis likes to do with the scarves fits with what he found on Meg’s computer. It’s him, Charlie.’
Charlie stares at me for the longest time, shock obliterating every other emotion he’s shown tonight. It’s like he’s seeing something else instead of my face until his eyes snap back into focus. ‘I believe you.’
As I let his words sink in, the colour draining from Charlie’s face rises in my cheeks. ‘Do you want to know what he did with the scarves?’ I ask as my fingers begin to tingle with the soft touch of silk.
I want Charlie to say no and stop me there but he remains stock still.
‘He forced them into her mouth so he wouldn’t have to hear her begging for him to stop,’ I say. I can feel the food I ate earlier rise up in my throat when I add, ‘And – and when that wasn’t enough to satisfy him, he tied a scarf around Ellie’s neck and pulled on it until she passed out, just like he did to Meg. It’s called autoerotic asphyxiation. He tells her she’ll learn to enjoy it.’
I stop to clear my throat but the lump obstructing my airway refuses to budge and my words are jagged. ‘That’s where the faded bruising on Meg’s neck came from, Charlie. He was choking her with her own scarves. There were no previous suicide attempts. Her last act wasn’t a cry for help that went wrong. Meg knew exactly what she was doing and the method she chose was a message to Lewis that he’d gone too far.’
The smell from our forsaken meal makes me want to gag and it has the same effect on Charlie. He swallows hard and in the next moment, his hand flies to his mouth. He’s retching as he jumps up and rushes to the bathroom. The door slams behind him.
Numbly, I clear away the dishes and wait for him to reappear.
‘Sorry, I don’t know what happened there,’ he says when he picks up the glass of water waiting for him.
‘It’s like a punch to the stomach,’ I tell him, knowing exactly how he feels
. ‘I didn’t think the shock of Meg’s death could hit me again so hard, but when I listen to Ellie, I’m hearing Meg’s story. We have to do something, Charlie.’
‘You can’t go near Lewis,’ he warns. ‘Please, Jen. Promise me you’ll keep away from him.’
‘Ellie is my only concern,’ I tell him. ‘We can argue about Lewis once I know she’s safe.’
Charlie seems satisfied with my answer and says no more as he helps me load the dishwasher. There’s something comforting about doing ordinary, everyday chores as the nightmare we’ve been running from for the last decade catches up with us.
‘Should I tell Ruth and Geoff?’ I ask at last. Having witnessed Charlie’s reaction, I’m not sure I’m that brave.
‘Do you think we can handle it on our own?’
I close the dishwasher. I’m relieved he said we. ‘I’d like to try.’
‘So what exactly do you know about her?’
‘Not as much as I’d like. She’s from Romania but she’s been living in Liverpool for a few years. It doesn’t sound like she has any friends who can help, Lewis has managed to isolate her, and she doesn’t want to go home to her family. The good thing is she’s not living with Lewis.’
‘He’ll need to stay with his mum for now.’
‘Yes, he wouldn’t want his mum finding out what he gets up to with Ellie,’ I add. ‘The problem is, Lewis pays Ellie’s rent and she can’t afford it on her own. She works in a shop but I don’t like the idea of her working in a frontline service. If she’s going to get away from him, she’ll have to give up her job and her home, which means she faces an all-too-familiar dilemma. How can she afford to start a new life somewhere else if she’s not working?’
‘How about a refuge?’
‘She’s in the same position as Gemma. The refuges that haven’t closed down after the withdrawal of local authority funding are full to capacity, and women with children have to take priority. Even Ruth couldn’t pull a favour from Selina. It had crossed my mind that Ellie could stay here if we clear out the spare room, but we’re too easy for Lewis to find.’
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