by Lesley Jones
Saviour
By
Lesley Jones
Copyright © 2013 Lesley Jones. All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system, without the permission, in writing, of the publisher.
WARNING
This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. This e-book is intended for adults ONLY. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.
CONTENTS
GLOSSARY OF TERMS
DEDICATION
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
PLAY LIST
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
SAVIOUR
GLOSSARY OF TERMS.
If you’re not familiar with Aussie or Essex slang, the list below may be of some help to you
Sook. = To sulk
UTE. = Utility Vehicle, Truck (like a Hilux type thing)
Darl. = A term of endearment, like love, hun or babe.
Tub. = The bath or shower
Tubbed. = To have bathed or showered
Arvo. = This afternoon.
Unit.= Small single story apartment
Root/shag/leg over.= Sex
Vajazzle. = To bling up your pubic area
Grommet. = A young surfer
Doona. = Duvet
Sheila/Bird. = Female
Wharfie. = Docker/Dock worker
Tradie. = Tradesman/Builder
Macas. = McDonalds.
See Ya After = See you later.
Grog. = Alcohol
Bottle shop = The place to buy Grog
Spa = Hot tub/Jacuzzi
Thongs = Flip Flops
Blue = Argument
Bubby/Bub = Baby/Babe
You right? = Are you mad?
Pash = Kiss
Pash Rash = What you get from too much pashing
Bogan = A person from an unsophisticated or uneducated background.
Feral = Untidy, unclean, unkempt
Bloke = Man
Chav = Wearer of fake designer clothes, displays loud and loutish behavior.
Essex Girl = Perceived as being loud, mouthy and promiscuous but this is so not true. Essex girls are street wise, stylish, smart mouthed and witty and can usually match the blokes drink for drink.
Think that covers it, if you have any more questions feel free to email
@authorlesleyjones
Tweet me
@Lesley__Jones
Or FB me
@ https://www.facebook.com/saviour.lesleyjones
FOR PAUL
& MY BOYS
MY SAVIOURS
CHAPTER ONE
I know exactly what to do as the bedroom door closes; I've done it plenty of times before. I keep my breathing slow and steady, not altering its pattern as he slides into bed beside me.
After a minute or two, I make out to twitch, first my leg, then my arm, the way you sometimes do when you’re dreaming or just about to fall asleep, this seems to do the trick. I hear him sigh and turn his back to me.
How has it become so bad I lay here thinking? Our relationship has always been so fiery, so passionate, and so full of love, but now, after 26 years together there seems to be nothing. Nothing other than the history we share. In the past, no matter how much we had argued or how much screaming, shouting and fighting we had done, despite all of this, there had always been the sex. Our makeup sex was always as passionate as our arguments and always meant that when we argued, we have usually kissed and made up by the next morning. We argue, we fight, we make love, I cry, and then we talk things through. It’s a pattern we have fallen into and for years this has worked for us, until lately that is. Lately things have changed and not in a good way. Over the past year or so, the arguments have been happening more often, Jay seems to be so angry all of the time, usually with me. I never know which version of my husband will be coming through the door at night and the arguments are getting more violent....the makeup sex is now non-existent... In fact there's very little sex full stop these days and that is just not us, that's just not the way of our relationship.
There are now days of silence between us and I feel constantly, that I am walking on eggshells around him. Too scared to talk in case I say something that pisses him off and it escalates into an act of violence towards me, my nerves are shattered; I am lost and lonely, I thought he was my best friend, but apparently I was totally wrong on that score, I spend all of my time close to tears.
I’m ashamed of myself for putting up with it all. Never did I think I would become a victim of domestic violence and never did I think I would tolerate it and say nothing, perhaps it’s my own fault and no more than I deserve. Victim, I hate that word, only because I know that’s exactly what I am, what I have allowed myself to become ....but today.... today, I have decided, I have truly had enough. Today I’ve decided, that is it, I am finally done, I'm actually in fear of my life, I have always been convinced he loves me, I’ve made excuses for his behaviour, because he loves me, he doesn’t mean to hurt me, because he loves me, he would never really hurt me badly, because he loves….What a load of crap, how can he love me? How can you drag someone you love along the floor by their hair? How can you squeeze someone you love around the throat so hard, they almost pass out? How can you kick someone you love when they're lying on the floor almost unconscious? And it’s finally struck me.... You can't....if you love someone, why on earth would you want to inflict pain on them? So today I have come to the conclusion, that actually, my husband doesn't love me. And to be honest, I don't think I love him anymore....Well that's not entirely true, I do love him but I'm not IN love with him and I certainly no longer respect him. If I'm totally honest, my husband terrifies me. What kind of relationship is that? Why have I taken so long to face up to all this? I’m not an idiot, I’m not weak but I am at a loss to understand why I have put up with this for so long. I assumed it would get better. All marriages go through bad period’s right? Ours was just a bit worse than most peoples, we love passionately, we fight passionately ... But then I have come up with these excuses and have come to these conclusions many times over the past eighteen months or so and here I am, still lying next to my husband, in our bed, pretending to be asleep so he won’t touch me or attempt to initiate sex and as I drift off to sleep, my last thoughts are that I have to do something, things have got to change, he has got to change. If not I will have to leave him, because I know, I just know, deep down, somewhere in my psyche that something bad will happen.
I wake in the morning and slowly slide my leg across the bed to Jason's side, it’s still warm, but he’s already up. I turn over, and look at the clock: 5:30am ....Seriously, 5 fucking 30? Aarrrghh! Jay has always been an early riser; weekdays, weekends, work or no work, he is always up and awake early. I on the other hand am the complete opposite and could spend the whole day in bed if given the chance.
I lay and recall some of the many, petty arguments it has caused over the years, days out that needed an early start, early morning flights or appointments…. I have always hung on until the very last second till getting up out of bed. I smile to myself, thinking of some of our holidays and trips we have shared. The thi
ngs we have seen and done, as a couple and together with the boys, as a family, this is just so hard. It has been so good for so long. He's been my best friend, which makes all of this so much harder to bear, I feel so betrayed that he has chosen to treat me this way. An affair would have been less painful....At least I THINK it would. It's not something I've ever had to confront; fidelity has never been an issue. Well not on my part anyway and I'm pretty sure Jay has been faithful!
Over the years, many of our friends have divorced, separated, had affairs but we have always been solid... On the outside at least. There had been a spell, after around 5 years together, that Jason had told me he was leaving me. He had sworn at the time that no one else was involved; he had just decided that he no longer wanted to be in a relationship with me. His career had been just taking off at the time and he was out more and more to lunch and dinner meetings and corporate events. I attended some with him but with two young children under four at the time, it wasn't always possible. I had felt alone and isolated. I had had my children young, the first of all of my friends to do so, while they were all out pursuing careers and spending their weekends clubbing and partying, I sat at home with the boys. It didn't help that a lot of Jay’s events would end up at one of the local clubs or pubs and he would come home and tell me about the friends of mine he had bumped into. Or worse still, he would tell me nothing and I would hear from someone else that he had been seen in a club talking to one of my so called “friends”.
For a while I wallowed and sat home feeling frumpy and out of the loop. Then out of the blue I landed a job in a small interiors shop. I had been at college studying interior design when I had fallen pregnant with Sonny at just twenty. I had continued and finished my course with just four weeks to go before the baby was due but I had never had a chance to put any of my newly acquired qualifications into practice as just six months after Sonny was born, I had fallen pregnant with Ryder. Despite the time that had elapsed since my college days, I had kept my hand in by reading home and lifestyle magazines constantly and of course watching every home makeover program on the TV. Back then, there were nowhere near as many as there are now but I had managed to keep up with trends and fashions and had made our own home look like something straight from a magazine. I had a knack, a way of always managing to pull together a stylish, expensive look on a very limited budget. On just Jason's wage, we had bought and renovated an old 1930's house on the outskirts of the city, in an area that was to see a boom in prices over the coming years.
I had been asked to help friends when they bought houses or when any one I knew was decorating, my advice was always sort. It had been something I had been able to do, whilst having the kids in tow and despite only charging a small fee compared to what an interior designer would charge, I had earned enough to buy the key pieces for our own home that had given it the WOW factor. I had also been savvy enough to have taken photos and to have kept fabric, paint and wallpaper swatches and samples and my mood boards from all of the jobs I had done for others and from our own home, pulling together a pretty good portfolio of my work.
Once I went back to work my life changed. The money was average, the hours crap and juggling the kids was bloody hard work. I had many moments of regret and guilt and many weeks it cost me more in child care fees than I earned but after a year I was doing what I had trained for. I was out making house calls on people that wanted me to design rooms and sometimes, entire homes for them. But more than that, I had come back to life; I felt a part of the world again. I loved being a mum but I needed more than staying home with the children all day, to make me the mum they deserved. I had a new vibrancy and buzz about me. I had less spare time but more energy than I'd had in years so every spare moment I spent with the boys, we would get out of the house, to parks or the zoo or museums. If we did stay home, we would get creative and paint or draw or make things. So much more fulfilling than just plonking them down in front of the TV. It changed everything about my relationship with Jason too. I now had things to discuss at the dinner table, I had things to tell him about my day, and now with a list of child-minders and babysitters to choose from, we could have the occasional night out together. We got back on track.
He changed his mind about leaving me and we had stayed together. I think it’s from that time where some of my issues stem from. Over the years I have convinced myself that I should be grateful that he stayed with me.
Anyway, all of this had eventually allowed us to sell our house for a tidy profit, buy a block of land out of the city and close to the beach and build our dream home and for me to set up my own interior design business .
That had all happened over twenty years ago....
The boys were now grown. Sonny was over in the UK with his girlfriend. He’s a professional rugby player and living it up and earning money playing a sport that he has loved his whole life. Jess his girlfriend is a doctor and was finishing off her qualification as a paediatrician at one of the best children's hospitals in the world.
Ryder has inherited design and build skills from both his parents and is now an architect, designing houses for the development company Jason now owns and runs.
For us, life is pretty good and most people assume I have it all and in many ways I do but for how much longer am I prepared to put up with being so unhappy on the inside? The boys know that Jason has a bad temper and have witnessed him losing it with me many times over the years but I have always warned them to stay out of any of our arguments no matter what, in fear that he would turn his wrath on one of my children but they have no idea how bad things have become over the past months, how viciously Jay now speaks to me when he loses his temper and how frequently it is happening.
I had tried to talk to him; I had tried to make things better. I booked weekends away for us, arranged weekends away for just Jay with friends; anything to try and chill him out, help him relax.
As far as Jason was concerned I completely over reacted to our fights and blew them out of all proportion. The truth was, he had never hit me; he had never swung a punch and actually HIT me....He had however, dragged me from room to room by my hair, pushed me to the floor, squeezed my cheeks until my mouth bled, smashed my head into walls and squeezed my throat until I almost passed out .
Looking back, I know I should have acted years ago but the truth of the matter is simple, I love him and I feel that I’m not entirely blameless in some of the arguments that have led to his violent outbursts. I know I’m no angel, I have a smart mouth, and don't like to be told ...but now I have reached the stage that I am no longer in love with him enough to tolerate the abuse. This makes me sad, so very sad to accept this fact but I am worth more that.
So it is then, that I lay here now, in our bed, waiting for my husband to leave for work before I get up to make a coffee so that I don't risk having a conversation with him and saying something that might just piss him off enough to start with the violence again .
CHAPTER TWO
I have been looking forward to this night out for weeks; it’s just what I need. A loud, raucous night of drunken girl talk, a chance to forget about everything else and the decision I have come to. I have never disclosed the violent nature of my domestic situation to any of my girlfriends, as far as my girls are concerned, I have a good marriage and for the most part, I do. That’s the gutting thing about all of this, if he could just see what he was throwing away. They are as close to me as sisters but they have no idea I am planning on leaving my husband and they have no idea my husband hurts me ... And just for one more night, that was the way it was going to stay!
I am the oldest amongst my group of girlfriends but with good genes and a lot of vanity, I know I don't look it. I’ve always had a pretty good figure and a decent pair of boobs that have stood up well to the test of time. As a child I had hated my curly red hair and had sworn that as soon as I was old enough I would have it straightened and dye it black. But at around the age of sixteen, I began to realise, my curly red mane and my generously sized
knockers could get me just about anything I wanted where men were concerned and over the years, with the quality of straighteners and product on offer, I now had the option of straight, controlled waves or full on curls when it came to styling my hair. Well that’s what it said on the side of the bottle any way! Tonight I had opted for sleek and straight but with the sides flicking back and hanging down past my shoulders. Very seventies in style.
I am wearing my trademark jeans, tucked into long boots and a chiffon blouse, with a short leather jacket over the top and I feel good. I've dropped a few kilos these past few weeks, what with all the tension at home but weight loss for a woman, caused by whatever reason, generally makes us feel good.
Jo picked me up earlier in the cab and as we walk into the pub we can already see Jemma and Lulu sitting at a table in the corner. They have wine chilling in a bucket with our glasses standing to attention and waiting to be filled. After kisses all round, I pour myself and Jo a drink, clink glasses with everyone, say cheers and take a very large swig. “Shit I soooo need this”
“You okay?” asks Jemma, “You look very tired and you’ve lost more weight”
Jemma is my closest friend and never misses a beat when it comes to how I look and how I might be feeling. She has been seriously on my case these past few months, asking if everything is okay with me. So many times I have come close to telling her everything but Jason and her husband Max are pretty good mates and I know that once Jemma is made aware of what’s going on, there will be no going back.
“Yeah, I'm fine”.... Not wanting to dampen the mood by telling them about my woes.... “Just had a shitty week”
“Why, what’s happened?” She’s not going to leave it is she? I notice Lulu and Jo observing us and I get the distinct feeling, this night has been organized to get to the bottom of what is going on with me.
I love my friend’s dearly but I do not want to be discussing my marriage or the demise of it, in all its unfortunate details tonight. Tonight is about kicking back and having some much needed fun. Tomorrow will be the day, Jason is off playing golf early tomorrow so I will round them all up and let them know things are over between myself and Jay. I am still undecided as to whether or not to tell them all of the details, I really do not want their pity, I don’t want anyone’s pity!
