by James, Ella
I’m so hot, so frozen, so filled up with horror. I don’t know how I get my legs to move me across the space of the floor to that curtain, but I reach out and snatch it back, and there they are.
She’s on her back without a shirt on, and he’s over her. For a terrifying, black hole second, I can only see the back of him, his asscrack and his legs, and I think he’s inside her. Then I step closer, and I see Finley’s underwear. Oh Jesus. Fucking Christ. My pulse gallops. My knees tremble with relief—and then he’s up and coming at me.
“What do you think you’re doing here?”
My eyes magnet to Finley, and I realize that her arms are down in front of her, cinched in a belt. Her pretty face is red and tear-streaked. On her left cheek, there’s an awful bruise.
I don’t know what happens, how it starts or anything, except we’re on the floor, and I’m on top of him. I’m whaling on his face, and I can feel his bone, the sticky thickness of his blood as I try to rip his head off his body. He keeps trying to talk, and I’m laughing, and I’m busting through his face because he hurt her and you don’t hurt Finley! It might be okay to hurt me but you never hurt her—
“NEVER. HURT. HER. Do you fucking hear me? Never—” smash him— “ever—” fuck you— “EVER hurt her or I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU.”
Every time his head snaps back, I feel another shot of satisfaction. Someone’s screaming, but it’s dim and far away. Then someone grabs me from behind. Someone’s arm is locked around my throat. Someone’s on my back. I fight them like an animal until the fucker’s on the floor. It’s Freddy.
“Fuck.”
He’s bleeding from his forehead, and one of his eyes is swollen shut. I look at the doctor. There’s a pool of blood around him. Finley’s huddled by the bed, sobbing. I rush toward her, wanting to get that belt off. Someone shrieks, and her friend Anna steps in front of me. She waves her arms as pain blooms in my head.
Chapter Forty-Four
Finley
The sea at dusk. I squint my leaking eyes, and that’s what Anna’s blue tin roof looks like. I can’t wrench my gaze away from it. I’m lying on my back on Anna’s marriage bed, but if I stare up at the roof for long enough, I can pretend we’re in a boat out on these deep blue waters. It’s twilight, and we’re holding each other. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Declan. I’m so sorry.”
I don’t know I’m speaking till she whispers, “It’s not your fault. He went mad, Finley.”
I blink at the ceiling.
Where is he? I’ll find out when Freddy’s back. As Mrs. White and Holly worked on Doctor, Freddy and Father Russo dragged Declan off. I saw him upright outside, but Anna and Mrs. Acton didn’t let me near him. Mayor Acton stayed behind while Anna and Mrs. Acton brought Kayti and I here.
Mrs. Acton took me into the bathroom and asked me what happened. I wanted to tell her, but I could only weep. She handed me tissues. I wiped my face and blew my nose, and after, Anna brought me to the bed she shares with Freddy.
“Did you want the belt?” she whispers now.
I stare at my smearing ocean.
“Was Doctor angry with you? I could see his skull bone, Finley,” she whispers. “It’s miraculous that he was speaking when we left.”
I know I could brave the ocean now. I know I could.
“Finley…speak to me. I didn’t mean to be unkind last night. I was— I suppose it was my own emotions. I felt…hurt, I suppose. That you hadn’t confided. Finley…was he hurting you this morning? Doctor? You never speak of what you…of your life with him. The intimate life,” she whispers.
I heard Mrs. Acton murmuring to Anna that the ship’s waiting for Declan. If no one comes with word of him soon, I’ll be forced to squeeze out Anna’s bathroom window. I’ll get to him. My Declan would never leave without me.
“Is he unkind to you…is Doctor? You can tell me. Finley,” Anna whispers, “did he know? Perhaps from Father Russo? He’s a nosy pillock…”
Kayti’s cries draw Anna out into the hallway. Then it’s Mrs. Acton with me. She sits gingerly on the bed’s edge, smoothing her green skirt.
“Anna said your wrists were bound. Who tied them that way, my dear? Was it Doctor…or was it Mr. Carnegie?”
Her eyes flare as mine meet them. Then they gentle. “Tell me what prompted the ordeal, dearie. What happened?”
I roll on my side, away from her.
I need Declan!
I mustn’t weep. I mustn’t weep.
I turn back toward her.
“Marriage could keep me in my post. I could offer you some company. We would never have to consummate it. I’m too old for you, Fin. I know that.”
It wasn’t a love match. I can’t find my voice to say the words.
“Finley…did he hurt you? Doctor? You can tell me if he did.” The bed creaks as she leans toward me. “You can talk to me.”
“He’s a good man on the inside.”
“Your father doesn’t mean to be this way.”
“At times, a man can’t help his temper.”
“These are our secrets to keep. You understand now, darling? Who are we to ask the others to concern themselves with our wellbeing…just because your father drinks a bit. We get on well enough here, don’t we?”
“Finley, you’re so good.”
“You cannot truly believe I never meant to consummate it. When I get back from Cape Town, I’ll take what’s mine. You are my wife. And you’ll enjoy it!”
“Yearning is when you want something, my darling…especially something you can’t have.”
“So, when you want something forbidden?”
“Yes, my dearest. It’s a bit like forbidden.”
“There’s no time for further correspondence. Hear me through the stars.”
“Stay here, Finley! Do not move!”
A tear drips down my cheek, and Mrs. Acton scoots closer, to hug me. “You can tell me what happened. We want to see to you. So let me ask again, dearie. Did Doctor mean you harm?” Her hand comes up to my face, hovering. I flinch, and her green eyes widen. “Did he strike you?”
“Who are we to ask the others to concern themselves with our wellbeing…”
“If you can spread your legs for someone weak of spirit, someone lazy like him—someone who’s not your husband, WHOM THE LORD HAS JOINED YOU TO!—then you can keep quiet as I take what’s rightfully mine! In exchange for caring for you, I’m deserving of my marital rights.”
“Who are we to ask the others to concern themselves with our wellbeing…”
I stare into Mrs. Acton’s eyes. I’m overcome with powerful inertia. Profound apathy.
“I know myself. I’m loyal.”
“Was it Doctor…or was it Mr. Carnegie?”
I inhale. The air in my lungs feels too large.
“Was it Doctor…or was it Mr. Carnegie?”
I try to tell her with my eyes, for my mouth resists moving. But Mrs. Acton cannot read my mind. Her face is searching.
Who has Declan? I want Declan!
“It was Doctor.” Whispered words. Wobbly words. When they come from my throat, sickness follows, so I have to rush into the bathroom.
“Finley, you’re so good. I love you.”
I wash my face, taking my time. The water’s cold. It stings my eyes and fingertips.
Perhaps I’ll stay the night here. I’m so tired now. Declan wouldn’t leave without me.
As I step woodenly into the bedroom, I hear voices in the hallway. I hear Father Russo. Before I can make out what’s being said, the bedroom’s door opens, and Anna walks in. She holds Kayti, but this time it’s Anna weeping. Kayti blinks at me as Anna says, “They know.”
How odd that, at first, I don’t know what. Anna reads my face and mind.
“Father Russo arrived after Mayor. He told Mayor and Mrs. Acton you were having an affair.”
My knees buckle. I grab the bed’s post.
I croak, “And?”
“Mrs. Acton told them—she said Doctor hurt y
ou. But…” She shakes her head. Her calm face speaks damnation. “Father means to take you. He says he’ll sort this out in a God-like manner.”
I’m shaking my head as she speaks. No. No, no, no. No.
“I’m well, sir. How are you?”
“I would be better if I understood why you ceased attending weekday masses.”
“No.” I grip the bed. “I don’t trust Father Russo!”
“Well, why ever not?”
“He’s friends with Doctor!”
“Finley, he’s our priest. The Lord anoints all priests.”
I dash into the bathroom. As Anna comes to stand in the doorway behind me, I push the window open.
“Please!” It’s the only word I can get out as I hoist myself into the frigid air. As I drop to the ground, I’m stunned to see it’s dusk. Perhaps I fell asleep. What if the ship’s gone?
“I’m going to my house!” That’s what I call Mum’s house. It still stands, and Anna knows I sometimes visit it.
I take off down Middle Lane in that direction but cut back the other way, running so fast and hard that the twilight spins around me and gold stars bloom in my eyes. I run as I hear a car crank in the distance. Sobs wrench from my chest—sob-gasp, sob-gasp.
I’m not going to Mum’s, I’m racing to reach Declan. I can reach him if I’m fast enough. He’ll be at Gammy’s; I know he will. He’ll still be at Gammy’s.
I burst through the door gasping, and there is Baby, happy to see me, but I don’t pause.
“Where is he? DECLAN!” I run through the house, but I see nothing of him. “DECLAN! Declan, please! Declan! Please, please!” I run out the back door to check the ocean for the ship. That’s when I hear the crunch of tires on gravel.
Declan! Please, oh please!
I peek around the house’s side, and I see Doctor’s white Land Rover.
* * *
Declan
As soon as I realize the priest is playing intermediary between that piece of shit doctor and the people who have Finley, I go crazy inside. That fucking priest knew about Finley and me last night. I could see it in his eyes—and he wanted me to know he knew. There’s something about the man—something beyond your basic dick religious official. He’s probably buddies with the doctor.
Pretty quickly after getting his ass kicked, the goddamn doctor’s running his mouth, claiming Finley told him she’d been seeing me. I don’t really see the point in saying “no,” so I admit we sort of had a fling and then go full-on Homer, acting like I don’t see what the big deal is, but also saying sorry. The mayor eats it right up, still acting a little deferent to my Carnegie status and the fact that I’m “Homer.”
When I talk to Mayor Acton, Freddy, and the priest, I focus on what I saw when I walked into the clinic—“to get some Benadryl.” How that sick fuck was holding her down, and Finley was crying. I point out I didn’t break in or come seeking her out. (Oops, I’m lying). I just walked in, heard something that didn’t seem right, and walked around the curtain to find the doctor holding her down, rubbing his dick against her underwear while Finley cried with her arms tied. I tell them I didn’t lose my shit until I saw the bruises on her face.
“I’ve got a thing for men who hurt women—and you should, too. You want one of your women with a guy like that?” I ask the mayor. “Finley’s sweet. She probably doesn’t stand a chance around that motherfucker.”
He bristles at my language, but he seems to think about it.
I tell Freddy, “That’s your wife’s friend, man. You want her getting knocked around? You gotta keep that guy away from her.”
This whole act is last-ditch insurance in case they haul me off without me getting to see Finley. I guess I’m prescient, because in the end, that’s what they do. When I can hear the doctor talking bullshit to the priest inside the clinic—meaning he’s alive and undamaged enough to speak—the mayor tells me it’s time for me to take a hike.
“We’ve radioed the Celia, and they’ve agreed to wait for you.”
Yeah, because I booked a seat on the ship. The mayor clearly doesn’t know that.
“Freddy here will take you to your place of residence and show you to the dock.”
“What about Finley? I want to hear that you’re doing everything you can to keep her safe. Sounds like that jackass she’s married to is treating her badly. I don’t want to hear about that happening again.”
I give the mayor my best you-don’t-want-to-piss-me-off-or-I’ll-stop-sending-money look, and he nods.
“I’ll see to her. Ensure she’s healthy and safe.”
“I’m going to want an update on that sometime.”
Freddy takes me to the cottage, where I pack up and slide my passport into my pocket. He and I head to Mark Glass’s place, where Freddy tells Mark I’m leaving sooner than planned. Family emergency. I guess they want to keep things discreet for Finley and the doctor.
Mark and I walk to the dock, and he points out his boat. It’s pretty small, and made of wood. I’m pretty sure it’s the same one I came in on. I watch him crank the motor, and I get a look around the dock, and at the Celia, anchored maybe three hundred yards out. Then I “remember” my forgotten passport.
“Want to meet me back here in an hour?” I ask.
“That will work.”
I walk up the hill, then hurry toward the clinic. I come at it from the residence side and stand with my back against the wall outside the door. I spend a couple minutes listening to the women’s voices as they talk inside while cleaning up our mess. Finley’s at the church, one of them says. I try to make it over there discreetly, but I see some little kid and raise a hand to wave at him, then put my finger to my lips. Don’t tell, buddy.
I check all the church’s doors, finding there are three but the back two are locked. The church’s big, wooden door—the one on the front—is ajar. My heart pounds as I stand outside it, listening to what’s going on inside for what feels like a long time before I step silently into the back of the main room. That’s when I hear her soft Hail Marys. I can’t see her, so she must be kneeling in the front.
I start sweating as I spot that fucking Father Russo, dressed in all his priest shit, sitting on the third row from the front. I have to really work hard on my breathing so I don’t lose my shit while I stand behind a partial wall and wait for…something. I’ll know when I see it.
I try to keep track of the minutes. Five? Seven? Four hundred? Finally, I see her, and again, I go all sweaty. I watch as she approaches Father Fucker. I think she asks if she can use the women’s room. My blood boils that she has to ask.
He must say “yes.” I watch what hallway she goes down, and then I take a big breath and get going. There’s only one option that I know of: I crawl down the far left aisle, moving fast and hiding behind church pews. My shoulder aches, and my head throbs where Freddy hit me with a metal surgical tray, but I’m still pretty agile. Father Russo seems distracted.
When I get into the hall, my head spins hard. Women’s room. Fuck, I need the—
There it is. I open the door…step slowly inside. There are two stalls. As I lean down to look for her feet, I hear a sniffle.
“Finley?” I hiss. “It’s Declan.”
Chapter Forty-Five
Finley
I brace for the worst when I hear the door open. Horror after horror, I think, my body trembling. Then I hear him. I hear Declan. He’s here or I’ve gone mad. Either way, I’m weeping as I rush from the stall.
He catches me and spins me slightly, with one arm around my back. His hand tunnels up through my hair, holding my head as his mouth presses over mine. He kisses me hard, and then I’m gasping. He’s whispering something. My blood is booming in my ears.
“Hey there, sweet Siren. Are you okay?” He holds me tight enough to hurt, and I can feel the tremor in him as his ribs pump with his quick, quiet breaths.
I cling to him, my voice cracking on a sob. All I can say is, “Sailor.”
“It’s okay
. I’ve got you now.” We’re leaned against the wall. I’m wrapped in his arms, scarcely standing on my weak legs as he holds me to him, his lips against my hair as he says, “Listen to me, Siren. He’s still out there and we’ve gotta go. Are you hurt anywhere?” His hands stroke down my back and sides as he blinks down at me with warm, gentle eyes.
I shake my head as tears spill down my cheeks. It’s not true, though. The answer is “my heart,” but it feels better now.
“Okay—we’re gonna have to find a different door. Is there a side door you could show me?”
“I can’t leave with you! They won’t let me!” A sob punches from my throat before his mouth seals over mine again.
“I know.” He holds me tightly. “I know you can’t without spousal consent. Somebody told me. Do you want to, though? You want to leave with me, Finny? I think I can get that ship to leave if we go right now, get some lead time.”
“Yes. Yes, please! Don’t leave me here, please!”
“Okay, baby. Where’s that other door? You gotta show me where the other door is.”
“The side door.”
We steal through the darkened hall and past the lesson rooms and turn right. And there’s the door. He pushes it open, and I rush into the frigid night, and then we’re running through the semi-frozen dew that sparkles like diamonds in the grass. We’re running so quickly, Declan’s strong hands dragging me, and I suppose I’m too slow because then he’s thrown me over his shoulder. With each bouncing step, his shoulder jabs me in the belly, so I shut my eyes. I can’t see the places as we pass. I can’t say goodbye. Perhaps it’s better that way.
I feel when we reach the hill. The hill I walked up to look down and see him arriving. It’s the last path that I walked with Mummy. When we reach the downslope where the grass rolls down to the dock, he sets me on my feet and grabs my hand, and we run down the path together. That’s when raindrops start to hit me in the face.
