Am I dreaming again? I don’t think so because I feel sure my eyes are open. Maybe I’m going mad instead? In the end, I realise it’s likely I simply have a concussion. I get up from the table and reach for the paracetamol. As I close the door something outside catches my eye. Daryl is coming down the steps from upstairs.
Why is Daryl coming back from upstairs?
The only place those metal steps lead to is the flats above us. More specifically, they lead to the people who live in them. Daryl had told me he was going out looking for fun, but can he have found a way to hurt me even more? Would he be that cruel? Surely he couldn’t do that to me, after all he’s been through. Shivering, I swallow three chunky white tablets and decide to get to bed before he comes in. Things will be better after some sleep. Things are always better in the morning.
Katie, Katie! A shadow runs out in front of me. I think I can see leaves in a girl’s hair but even though she calls out to me, I can’t see her face. Katie, you’ve got to run.
I wake with a start, breathing hard. The dream is like the others, nothing more than an illusion. I shrug and roll over. I wake again some time in the night, in the black of our bedroom. It’s impossible to be certain of the exact time but it feels like early morning. The only sounds that punctuate the darkness are the night creatures outside the window and Daryl whose snoring reminds me of an aeroplane passing by. He gasps loudly as he sucks in fat breaths and lets them out with a snort. By the sounds of it, he’s in the depths of a self-inflicted, drunken coma. I reach for my phone and flip it on to see the time. Two thirty-six. There's no way I can get back to sleep now, not with the heavy metal band playing out in the form of Daryl. There is also one behind my head, throbbing in time to my heartbeat, so I decide to go downstairs to get some more painkillers.
I slip out from beneath the covers and step soundlessly onto the carpet. On my way past Daryl, who always sleeps by the door, (something about being there to protect me), I notice his phone sitting innocently on the bedside table. Should I? The thought pops into my head, a dangerous one at that. If he catches me…
But I have to know what is going on. After all the knocks, the bruises, the fists I’ve endured, this betrayal is the one that stings the most. I have to know for sure if he is indeed seeing the woman upstairs. The one who I’ve admired so much for being strong and independent. The woman I’d thought had it all together. I won’t blame her if it is her, though perhaps I should. But I can understand the need to be wanted. Still, if the truth is confirmed, I know that Daryl and I will be through. Perhaps it will give me the strength to break free. It would be, as the saying goes, the final straw.
I slowly slide the cable out of the phone and back away carefully, trying to recall where the creaky floorboards are as I walk. Slinking out of the room, I grab my dressing gown and brace myself against the cold air. Closing the door softly behind me, I navigate by memory, not daring to turn on a light or use my mobile. Making my way to the kitchen, the room furthest away, I dare to turn on a lamp. As I do so, eerie whispers fill my head as flashes of Daryl’s earlier conversation flood my memories. If he catches me here, I don’t know if I will survive. Lately, I don’t know who he is anymore.
I sit at the table in the moonlight, feeling like a kindred spirit of a nocturnal animal, and unlock his phone. I’m not sure exactly what it is I’m looking for, maybe a text? I scroll through the messages, wondering what I might find. My hand trembles and my heart is pounding. I wish I could calm down, the thudding in my ears makes it hard to hear if he has woken up.
A quiet groan escapes my throat as I see the messages to someone named Sarah. I wonder if it’s her… the girl upstairs. The name doesn’t sound so sensible anymore, instead it tastes like bitter medicine on my tongue. The kind you take as a child to take away the badness. The kind a mum might tell you works well because it tastes bad. I want to blame her, I want to think she is the devil but the medicine, bitter as it is, is beginning to work. When I see a half-naked picture of her, it’s hard to swallow, but it is Daryl who is to blame. My strength is renewed, and I find an energy I thought I’d lost. Now, all that is left is to confront him, to hear the admission from his lips. Even if it’s the last thing I hear.
Chapter Nine
Recently a good day for me is one where I go unnoticed, where Daryl doesn’t see me. Which really means, if I’m good enough at everything he needs, if I hide my tears well enough and luck is on my side. Now, I find myself here again in the dark, in the kitchen. Lying in wait, like the undead, wanting to be seen, wanting to be felt. After all I’ve endured, all Daryl has put me through, I cannot hide from this anymore. Sitting at the table in the kitchen, which practically bears my aura I’ve sat at it so long, I wonder if I’ve got it backwards. If it isn’t Daryl that is suffering from madness but rather it is me. I had watched covertly as earlier that evening he’d made his way up the stairs, towards her apartment…now I know her name is Sarah, and in the gloom, I wait.
Strangely, I’m detached from emotion as I sit. There’s no fear, no anger anymore. My romantic notion of love has been disbanded and in its place is a new, stronger Katie. Living with Daryl had rendered me mute and helpless, but knowing this is how little he cares for me gives rise to a new strength. This is the straw that has broken the camel’s back. Of course, it may well break mine too but strangely I feel numb. I know I must confront him and learn the truth.
As soon as he comes through the door, his eyes catch the light of the small lamp, which bathes me in a calming half-light. “Katie, what are you doing up now? You’ll look like a hag in the morning if you don’t get some sleep. I’m going to bed.”
I don’t respond to his barrage. Instead, in a whisper, I ask, “Did you fuck her, Daryl?”
His eyes widen as he turns back round to look at me.
“I saw you, Daryl. In fact, I’ve seen you going up to hers plenty of times. Tell me the truth, are you having an affair?”
“Yes.” His tone is flat and matter of fact. “Maybe if you weren’t such a downer all the time, I wouldn’t need to go looking elsewhere.”
I’d known he would react badly but this isn’t what I’d thought he’d do at all. It’s as if he expects me just to take it. I almost laugh at myself for being so stupid. That is exactly what he demands, and I am so under his control, he thinks I’ll take anything.
“So that makes it alright then, for you to just go off with anyone else?” I ask in amazement.
“Katie, I’ve told you before dear, you’re too emotional. Too bloody sensitive by half. It’s just sex, that’s all.” He smells his hand as if smelling her and smirks. “Now I’ve had enough of this. I make the money, I make the rules. That’s the price of life, hun, you’ve just got to accept it.”
He looks at me to answer him, to show I’ve accepted and when I remain silent, he dangles my car keys provocatively in front of me. Jangling them as if they are a treat.
“I’ll leave you, Daryl, I won’t live like this,” I reply.
With a sinister smile, he says, “Where are you going to go to, Katie, you’ve got no money, no car, and no one to turn to? You’ve only got me in this whole wide cruel world. Besides, you wouldn’t last five minutes out there.” Laughing, he turns and heads to bed.
Under my breath, I mutter…fuck.
Every inch of my body trembles and shakes with rage and heartache. I’d have thought I would be empty, as drained as the sky after a heavy rain, but it turns out I'm wrong. Finally, the shaking comes to a stop and I pour my sadness into action. Reaching for the phone, I make a split-second decision that will alter my life forever.
I type the message, I’ve got to leave him. Will you help? Can we talk tomorrow? I wait until the message is sent and then slide across the screen to delete it. I can’t risk Daryl finding it, not now I’ve made up my mind.
Chapter Ten
“Where are you planning to go, Katie? What are you going to do?” Jeannie asks. I can almost see the cogs turning in her head as she paces the shop floor.<
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I shake my head. “I don’t know, I really don’t. I can’t go back to Mum’s and besides, I’m not sure she would even have me. I just don’t know what I’m going to do.”
For the first time since I decided to leave Daryl, a sense of hopelessness washes over me. I wipe away a rolling tear, dashing my hand across my face so that Jeannie won’t see. Still, I can’t but notice the sadness that flashes across her face. I’ve seen it too many times recently and know I am the cause, I am the catalyst of her pain. Her eyes are sore, dark circles have formed beneath them, she’s been crying for me. A pang of guilt plucks at my heart strings. I wonder how many strings my heart has left and how long it will take before it is broken beyond repair. But to my surprise, I see something else shining in her eyes…determination.
“Honey. You’ve done the right thing. I was terrified you were going to end up dead. Listen, I’ve got a friend, Louisa, she has a flat you can rent. It’s not much, it’s got some simple furnishings, but it will be safe. I’ve spoken to her already and you can have it. I’ll help, you know I will if I can. Chris and I, we’ve got a little tucked away.”
“Really? Oh Jeannie thank you. You’re wonderful.”
“It’s not going to be easy though, Katie. You’ll have to keep pretending, you’ll have to stay with him, while you get things sorted. If he suspects…” She leaves the sentence hanging in mid-air. It needs no explanation. We both know what Daryl will do if he catches me trying to escape.
I find myself hanging off her every word, simply grateful for someone who can help me and who knows what to do. We talk about how I can sneak the things I need out from the flat. I decide to use my handbag to take bits and pieces, just the essentials. Everything else can be bought. Jeannie tells me she’s already got the key from Louisa, and we can go every day during lunch. I feel a flutter of excitement at the prospect of somewhere to call my own. I try not to worry about the endless things that could wrong, about what he will do when he discovers I’ve left him.
Every day we sneak a couple more things. At night, I pop my bag under my pillow, I don't dare risk making him suspicious. Since he lost his job, he is home all the time. The chances of being discovered are even higher but it doesn’t stop me, nothing will.
Daryl is worse than ever, if such a thing is possible. Knowing that his secrets are exposed, he watches my every move and has the time to do it. I can tell he knows I’m planning something. Whenever he is in the room with me, which is often, my teeth threaten to chatter with fear, but the wheels are in motion now, gravity has brought me to ground zero, rock bottom. I will either go into the earth or rise upwards from the dirt.
Today is as ordinary a Wednesday as any you might find. Outwardly, there is nothing to mark the occasion or signal its significance in the calendar, but internally I'm on high alert. Jeannie and I close the shop and head to the flat for the last time before ‘it’ will or will not happen. She brings me some towels and other bits from home. I hold them close to my chest, feeling the soft cotton brush against my skin. I feel like I am a child once again, clutching tightly to the blanket that was my first comforter. I won't let it go, I don’t want to grow up.
The day has arrived, the flat is ready, or as ready as it can be. Little by little, the place has begun to look like home. Today is the day when I will cut the cord and leave. My mind is not excited at the prospect of going, his control over me is a funny thing. My mind plays tricks on me. Instead of relief or excitement, I have doubts about going. What if he kills me or Jeannie? What if he finds out where I am? Daryl already knows I work in the shop, he won’t have far to come. What if everything he says about me is true? Some of it is. How will I survive?
Clenching my fists, I strengthen my resolve. I tell myself, world, you don’t want to mess with me today. I'm already only half alive, it’s better to leave now and try for a real life or die trying. Jeannie and Chris arrange so that they are waiting in the car outside. The plan is simple, we will leave in the early hours of the morning when Daryl is asleep. I’ll flip the lights on and off a couple of times so they know I'm coming. Then I'll let them in and we'll run away together. As easy as that.
Instead of dragging, the day goes by in a blur. It’s as if it knows I'll lose my courage if I don’t act soon. I don’t know if I am ready when the darkness arrives. The time is now but I’m scared, locked between the fear of staying and the fear of escape.
Lying in the dark, next to him, I wait. Until at last, I can hear the steady sounds of breathing and see his chest rising and falling with the gentle rocking motion of a boat upon calm waters. I’ve been on edge for the whole evening, feeling the anticipation coursing through my veins. Tonight, he doesn't snore and I marvel at how he can choose this night to be so peaceful in his slumber.
I touch the walls of the bedroom, feeling the memories as I move stealthily out of the room. Lifting my coat off the armchair in the living room, it reveals a meagre bag of things I’ve managed to pack. As I pick it up, I remind myself that love is kind, it should be used thoughtfully and shared wisely. It is everything Daryl is not. I will remember this, I will carry it with me wherever I go from here. Closing my mouth, holding my breath, I listen. The house is as still as a coffin.
I’m supposed to flick the lights on and off to show Jeannie I’m ready and so I move to the kitchen, towards the lamp. Suddenly, I hear a creak behind me. My heart is pounding in my throat and my body begins to tremble. Please don’t be caught, don’t be found. Closing my eyes as tightly as I can, I pray to disappear when I smell the familiar waft of his aftershave.
“Where do you think you’re going?” His voice is laced with acid.
I turn to see his eyes shining with a glazed, deathly stare.
Please Jeannie, come and get me. Oh God, please rescue me.
He moves himself into position in front of the door, blocking my escape. His eyes watch my movements as if I am his prey. I find myself tracking their motion with a morbid detachment.
“I’m leaving, Daryl. I’m leaving you. This, whatever this was, it wasn’t love and if I stay here I’ll die, or you’ll kill me. One way or another I’m going.” My voice doesn’t waver.
I want to escape, I want to leave, but I no longer care if I die in the process. Staring him down, I ride it out.
“You want to leave?” he asks.
I say nothing and simply stare at the floor.
“I put a roof over your head, food in your belly, a bed to sleep in. I provide for us and protect you, and that’s bad for you how? I put up with your whining and complaining, your crying.” He gestures towards me as if pointing out the obvious. “And this is how you repay me?”
With two strides, he moves across the floor to stand in front of me.
Come on Jeannie, please.
Before I know what is happening, he grabs a fistful of my hair, stretching my neck backwards. I am looking up and into his eyes, which from my new viewpoint provides me with the full effect of his blood red rage. The smell of his aftershave pools into my throat. I will the vomit to stay in my stomach, I don’t want to choke.
“This is how you treat me? With this betrayal?” he screams into my face, sending spittle all over my skin. Releasing my hair, he shoves my shoulders hard, pushing me back. I fall heavily on my backside, connecting with the cold, hard floor tiles. I send plates and cutlery flying as I try to grab onto something, but I find only thin air. Shards of white hot pain shoot through my back and legs as shockwaves ripple through my body. Suddenly, I want to get out of this alive. I was wrong to think I don’t care about dying. Tears prickle at the backs of my eyes. I see everything I could have play out in front of me, there is still hope inside me for real love, for babies, for life.
He kneels over me, placing one leg on either side of my body, and pins me to the ground. Thrashing my body, I use my arms to push against him but it’s like pushing a mountain. I use my hands like battering rams against his chest, but it does no more than crease his shirt. I try to wriggle free, us
ing my body to slither down but it is useless. Grabbing my wrists, he pushes first one back to the floor then the other. I never stood a chance in this arm wrestle. I know this is it, this is the moment of my death as he wraps his hands around my throat. Begging, pleading for my life now, I tell him what he wants to hear. I’ll stay, I’ll be good, I’ll be better.
“I’m sorry,” I cry in great sobs. Unsure if my words are coherent, aware that I'm using up precious oxygen.
“Shut up. You’re nothing but a whore. Cheating, stinking, filthy whore.”
The lies in his attack do nothing to comfort me. His hands squeeze tighter and I feel the room begin to go fuzzy. Speckles flash before my eyes and the world starts to go black. I know now that Jeannie will arrive too late. She will find my body motionless upon the floor and she will blame herself. The tears I cry now are for her. The room begins to spin and I gasp for air. This is it. I resign myself to it. There is nothing more left to do.
Like Velcro being ripped open, I feel a pop.
It’s not my throat. Instead, air gushes in to fill the vacuum in my lungs and I breathe deeply, almost choking on its sweet-tasting high.
“Get the fuck off her.” Jeannie’s husband is ripping Daryl off me with remarkable strength, given his age.
I can’t hear what’s going on. I am pulled to a standing position and find myself in Jeannie’s arms. She pulls me along as if I'm a reluctant child that must be ushered into obedience. “Shh, it’s ok. It will be ok,” she coaxes.
It’s as if there has been a power cut in my brain. I can’t make out the words but her tone is soothing and calm. Briefly, I wonder if this is heaven.
That’s when I realise I’m not dead. Jeannie has found me and I am free.
PART TWO
Chapter One
The sun bounces off the pavement, reflecting warmth onto the faces of those who pass by me. A gentle breeze that smells of perfumed blossom rustles my hair as I look up to see a rainbow of new birth all around me. I still can’t bring myself to look at people properly, so I keep my face down to the floor and concentrate on where I’m walking, stepping between the cracks in the pavement to avoid bad luck. Feeling the optimism of spring in the air and a spring in my step, I bounce right along with it.
She's Not Gone Page 6
