If she’d been furious before, it was nothing compared to how she felt now. Idiot. Absolutely bloody controlling male idiot. A surge of sheer indignant rage saturated Amy’s system. What had she done to deserve this other than try to keep people happy? What had she done?
She was the nice one, dammit. She was really beginning to understand why her sister used to strategically lose her temper when she worked on the rigs just to keep the men around her on their toes. Amy had a feeling that if she’d lost her temper a lot earlier with Liam, none of this would have happened.
How dare he.
The police came and went within the hour. They took things a lot more seriously this time around. It seemed vandalising a rich foreigner’s car was one thing but vandalising a local business was another.
In the end, they came to the same conclusion she had: that Liam had thrown some sort of goop at her store, left a note, then driven off. Because he’d done it all early on a Sunday morning, there were no immediate witnesses. Liam had conveniently left a couple of black tarry fingerprints along with the shoeprints so, at the very least, there was enough evidence to give Amy the grounds to apply for a restraining order. With luck, he’d end up in court for vandalism.
It would take days to get the black gunk cleared away from the doors and for the painting contractor endorsed by the insurance company to get things back to normal. There was no way Amy could subject her staff or clients to paint fumes while the work was underway, so she cancelled her appointments and gave her staff some time off. By the time she climbed into her car at the end of the day, she was determined to end this once and for all. She’d had enough.
She hit the road and floored the accelerator. As she drove east towards the hills surrounding Perth, her fury grew. By the time she got to Liam’s place, her hands were shaking on the steering wheel and her head was pounding.
The seventies bungalow with its stained cream bricks still smelled of bore water and claustrophobia. The meticulously mowed front lawn was bare with the exception of a lone pencil pine.
The fact that nothing, absolutely nothing, had changed just served to make Amy angrier as she pulled into Liam’s cracked concrete driveway, then climbed out of her car, stomping purposefully to the front door.
Liam answered at the second knock. He was shirtless, his barrel chest bare, wearing only low-slung jeans and a stunned expression that quickly changed to amazement as Amy found her voice.
‘You bastard,’ she screeched, advancing on him until only an inch separated them, her hands clenched at her sides in tightly balled fists.
‘Amy?’ Liam stumbled back into the recesses of the house, his expression as gormless as a guppy’s, as Amy took another step towards him.
‘Leave me alone!’ She poked his chest with her finger, her nail leaving a satisfying red crescent. ‘I don’t want to see you ever again. I’m never, ever going to be your girlfriend again and if you come near me, my house or my business again I’ll . . .’ She paused as shockingly violent images flitted through her mind featuring various parts of Liam strewn across his front lawn. She drew a deep breath. ‘Go to the police again. But before I do that, I want to say something I should have said years ago. I don’t love you. I never loved you. I don’t want to be with you and I never will. Ever. Leave. Me. Alone.’
Her eyes narrowed on the red flush spreading from Liam’s chest to his cheeks. She recognised that look. It was the same one he’d worn the last time he’d taken a swing at her, but this time she wasn’t scared. It made her even angrier. ‘And if you even think of hitting me again, I’ll bloody well hit back. These are four-inch stilettos I’m wearing and I will use them.’ She reached down, wrenched off a shoe and held it up in front of her, pointed heel aimed at him.
‘What the fuck do you think you’re doin’?’ Liam roared, taking another step backwards, his expression incredulous.
‘Warning you off, you idiot!’ Amy’s voice, not suited to this much strain, came out as a squeak. ‘You’ve vandalised my business! You’ve destroyed my boyfriend’s car! What the heck do you think I’m doing?’ She punctuated her words by waving her shoe around so much that he threw his arms up in front of his face to defend himself.
‘You sent the police after me!’ Liam bellowed, trying to step forward but stopping when faced with a flailing shoe.
‘Because you scared me! You wouldn’t leave me alone. You hit me, Liam. Don’t you remember that?’ Amy asked incredulously, watching with amazement as Liam deflated right in front of her eyes.
‘Yeah. But that was years ago.’
‘And how does that make me feel any better? How was I supposed to know you wouldn’t do it again? How do I know you won’t try again now? You scare me every time you come to my work. You don’t take no for an answer. You even left notes calling me a bitch in the wreckage last night!’ Amy paused as a suspicion began to take form. ‘You were behind the burglary, weren’t you?’
Liam puffed up again, his broad features nearly purple. ‘You went to the cops! What else did you expect me to do? And whaddya mean burglary? What burglary? Who burgled you?’ He had the temerity to sound outraged, which just set Amy’s blood back on the boil again.
‘For the love of God!’ She threw her hands up in the air, shoe and all. ‘I went to the police so you’d leave me alone. I know you’re not stupid. You’re university educated, you hold a good job, so why can’t you get this through your thick head? It’s been nearly ten years. Ten years. Get yourself some therapy and get a life. You don’t need me. You never really even wanted me when you had me. I have no idea, no idea, why you’re still hanging around now. The only answer I can come up with is that you’re pathetic and you can’t let go.’ She felt the anger that had propelled her to Liam’s doorstep abating enough for her to speak calmly. ‘Look, if you’re lucky, the police won’t charge you with vandalism over Ben’s car and my shop, but I doubt it. And I’ll be applying for a restraining order against you first thing tomorrow, so you’ll have to accept that you can’t see me again. Forever. I know it’s not easy working offshore and it’s hard to meet people, but you’ve gotta move on. I can’t believe I’m saying this, considering how completely upset I am with you, but I feel sorry for you. Move on and get a life.’ She turned on her heel and hobbled back to her car, not even bothering to replace her shoe or caring if one of her favourite French stockings was being irreparably damaged.
She didn’t wait to hear him saying anything else. The adrenaline from being so angry was wearing off and was quickly being replaced by a serious case of the shakes and the urge to vomit.
She’d just climbed in and turned the key when Liam thumped her window, his face disturbingly close to hers on the other side of the glass as he gestured for her to wind it down.
Amy felt a jolt of fright and immediately began reversing down the driveway, wanting to get away as soon as possible, only to relent when she heard a muffled ‘Please.’
‘What?’ She slammed her foot on the brake and wound down the window a couple of centimetres.
‘Did I really scare you?’ Liam’s voice was a mixture of outrage and something else. Maybe if she was going temporarily insane, she’d think it was disbelief.
‘Just now? Yes!’
‘No, I mean before.’
‘Yes.’
‘Serious? I wasn’t doing anything. Just dropping in t’say hello,’ he said petulantly and then stepped back at Amy’s look of fury. ‘Well, until last night.’
‘Bye, Liam.’ Amy started to wind her window up again.
‘Stop.’ Liam tried to jam his sausage-like fingers through the gap so that she had the choice of trapping them there and taking him with her, or waiting to hear what he had to say. She looked at him through the glass, eyebrows raised.
‘I didn’t mean . . . aw, fuck . . . I didn’t mean to get outta hand last night, or those other times I left you letters. I had a few beers–a lotta beers–and was gonna come round and ask you why you went to the police and—’
‘You were stalking me! For ten years.’
‘Yeah, well I wouldn’t go that far . . . then I saw the car and knew it was some other bloke’s . . . I was good to you!’
‘You abused me, Liam! You threatened to get my sister fired from her job when I wouldn’t come back to you! What part of “stalking” don’t you get?’ Amy looked around for her discarded shoe.
‘Yeah, but I said sorry.’
‘No, you didn’t. You never did.’
‘Didn’t I?’
‘No,’ Amy said tightly.
‘I’m sorry, Amy.’ His broad features were pressed grotesquely up against the window, a parody of contrition.
‘Not good enough. You don’t just owe me an apology now. You ruined my boyfriend’s car.’ The memory of the fight she’d had with Ben and the words he’d said washed over her. ‘That’s if he’s still my boyfriend.’
‘Yeah, well . . .’ Liam stepped back, crossing his arms over his chest. He didn’t look so threatening now. Instead he appeared strangely lost and despite everything, Amy found herself feeling sorry for him
‘Liam, it’s over. It was over a long time ago. Just leave me alone. Please?’ She felt tears rising to the surface but was damned if she’d show them. Instead she ran the heel of the shoe she was wearing over her ankle hoping the physical pain would prove a distraction. It worked, but she knew it was only temporary.
‘Was I really that bad?’ he asked plaintively.
‘Yes. Yes, you were.’ Amy sighed. ‘If Jo hadn’t introduced me to you and if I hadn’t been so worried about hurting her feelings, I probably never would have gone out with you.’ As she spoke, she realised the words were the truth, and it devastated her. How could she have been such a doormat? Self-disgust came thick and fast, along with the need to get away. ‘Move back, Liam. I’ve got to go. I don’t ever want to see you again.’ She made eye contact with him and held it for long enough to convince herself she’d made a stand. Later she’d be able to pinpoint the exact moment when he realised it was over and accepted it.
His shoulders drooped and his expression crumpled. ‘Amy . . .’
Amy didn’t want to hear any more. She didn’t even bother to look in her rear-view as she reversed out of the driveway and drove off. She’d had enough of the past haunting her.
When she’d driven a good ten minutes, she pulled over on the side of Reid Highway, opened the car door and promptly lost the small amount of food she’d eaten that day. Never in her life had she confronted someone like that, not even her own parents, and contrary to what she’d expected, it hadn’t felt liberating. It had just felt sad and pathetic.
Resting her head on the steering wheel until her nerves settled down, she waited for the self-recriminations and anger to abate before heading home. Tin-pot little house or not, she’d never felt the need to be there more than now.
Amy was jarred out of a fitful sleep the next morning by a loud banging on her front door. Whoever it was either wanted to talk to her badly or had a thing against doors on principle.
Her first bleary thought, accompanied by a healthy dose of dread, was that Liam had decided to turn into a deranged psychopath. Her second thought, a much more welcome one, was that Ben was here to make up.
The last person she expected to see when she opened the door was her sister looking like she’d gone a few rounds with a combine harvester. Jo’s hair, the colour faded, was standing on end and her blue jeans and purple-and-white Perth Glory football jersey looked slept-in. Not that she’d been doing any sleeping if the huge black circles under her eyes were any indication.
Amy barely had time to feel concerned before Jo pulled her into a bone-crunching bear hug, lifting her feet off the floor. ‘You’re alright. Jesus Christ, I was worried.’
‘Oomph.’ Amy automatically returned the hug, inhaling the scent of her sister’s faintly floral perfume. ‘I’m fine, but I think I’m missing a few ribs now.’
Jo didn’t let her go for a few more seconds, then released her gently, pulling back to look her up and down. ‘You look like shit.’
‘Gee, thanks.’ Amy pushed her dishevelled hair out of her eyes and pulled Ben’s T-shirt, the one she’d found on her bedroom floor, further down her thighs. ‘You want a coffee?’
‘Yeah.’ Jo studied her features with a worried frown. ‘Are you seriously alright? I just saw the salon and—’
‘I know,’ Amy interrupted, collecting the crocheted afghan off the back of her couch and wrapping it around her to ward off the chill before leading the way to the kitchen. ‘It happened yesterday. I’ve got to go down there and supervise the painters this afternoon.’ She located her coffee beans along with the chocolate cake she’d made the day before while trying to calm down after Ben’s outburst.
‘Did you call the police?’
‘Yeah,’ Amy said curtly, not wanting to dwell on the details. ‘Hey, are you sure you want coffee?’ She looked pointedly at Jo’s stomach, currently obscured by her jersey.
Jo grimaced. ‘I’m allowing myself one a day and the withdrawals from cutting back are killing me. It’s the smell I miss more than anything. Although I might pass on the cake. I can’t stand the smell of chocolate at the moment.’
‘Oh. Okay.’ Amy couldn’t imagine not being able to eat chocolate. Out of deference to Jo, she repackaged the two slices she’d just cut and set them aside so Jo could take them home for Stephen.
A light spring shower began pitter-pattering on the roof.
‘I had my first big ultrasound three days ago.’ Jo’s voice was unnaturally loud against the muted rain.
‘Yeah?’ Amy drew a shaky breath and added boiling water to her coffee plunger. ‘Everything okay?’
‘Yeah. Stephen was with me,’ Jo said gruffly. ‘I brought the pictures if you want to see them.’
Amy bit her lip and counted to ten. ‘Yeah,’ she said in a choked voice, still not wanting to turn around. She poured out the coffees. ‘That’d be great.’ Squeezing her eyes shut, she took another deep breath before carrying the coffees the short distance to the table, placing Jo’s in front of her.
‘So do you know who did it?’ Jo asked, playing with the handle of her cup.
‘Pardon?’
‘Your salon. D’you know who trashed it?’
Amy averted her gaze to a pile of mail she had yet to open. She ran her finger over the RSPCA logo on what would no doubt be a request for money.
‘You do know. Who did it? A pissed-off customer? Who, Ames?’
Amy sighed. She raised her eyes to look at her sister. ‘No. Nothing like that. It was Liam.’
Jo’s expression froze. ‘Liam?’
‘Yeah. He didn’t react too well to the news I’d reported him to the police. They must have visited him when he got home from the rigs on Saturday and—’
‘Liam?’ Jo’s voice rose in volume. Unlike Amy, Jo had a good voice for shouting. Amy hoped her future niece or nephew hadn’t developed little ears yet, or there was a good chance they’d just been stunned.
‘Yeah.’ Amy tried her best to keep her voice calm.
‘What the fuck! Liam? What d’you mean, Liam?’ Jo demanded, leaning across the table. ‘We’re talking the same Liam right? Your ex-boyfriend, my friend, Liam?’
‘Yeah.’ Amy’s chin came up at the disbelief in Jo’s tone.
Jo sat in stunned silence, twin flags of red riding high on her cheekbones as she processed Amy’s words. When they finally sank in, she exploded.
‘And you were going to tell me about all this when?’ She stood up abruptly, looming over Amy, her chair scraping across the floor. It toppled backwards, clattering against the wall. Jo righted it with an impatient gesture.
Amy started to defend herself and then stopped.
No. This wasn’t how it was going to go. It couldn’t work like this any more. A cool calm sensation washed over her. It wasn’t quite anger; it was something far more complicated.
‘Sit down, Jo,’ she said calmly and w
as just as shocked as Jo when her sister complied. Jo opened her mouth to speak but Amy held up a hand. ‘I need to tell you something. I’m going to talk and you’re going to listen. Alright? Some of the stuff I’m going to tell you might hurt your feelings, but you’re gonna have to deal with it.’
Jo stared at her as if she was possessed. ‘What’s this all about?’
‘There’s a bunch of stuff I should have told you about years ago . . . about Liam and what happened between us.’ Amy paused.
Jo’s mouth flattened into a grim line but she didn’t say anything, just nodded curtly for Amy to continue.
‘Liam was like Dad.’ When Jo’s features blanched, Amy had to fight the urge to stop talking right then and there, but the memory of how awful the past weeks had been kept her going. ‘I broke up with him after he hit me the first time. I didn’t tell you about it because he threatened to get you fired from your job and, more importantly, I didn’t want you to feel bad.’ She gave a dismal shrug. ‘It was silly. I know that now, but that’s how I felt. You did so much for me. I didn’t want you feeling guilty about working away and not being there.’
‘All those years ago when I blasted you for breaking up with him . . . why didn’t you say something? We didn’t talk for a year!’ Jo exclaimed in a croaky voice, her expression stricken.
‘Yeah. Well at the time–up until just recently–I thought that was better than you knowing. I didn’t want you feeling like this, feeling like it was your fault.’ Amy averted her eyes, her heart breaking at the pain mapped on her sister’s strong features.
‘So, what? So since then he’s been–you let it get bad enough that you had to go to the police? What the fuck has he been doing?’ Jo’s voice rose until it cracked.
Amy looked down at her hands wrapped around her coffee mug. ‘He didn’t do anything other than turn up to work. It was the last time I saw him. It was the time when you were there. I knew it couldn’t keep going on like that. He’d come in at least every month and stress me out; sometimes he’d leave notes under my door. You being there just showed me how stupid it was to let things continue. I know it was silly of me but I wanted to protect you.’
Irrepressible You Page 24
