The Girl on Gander Green Lane: A chilling psychological thriller with a twist.

by M J Hardy

  He pulls the letter from the envelope and reads it out in a dull voice.

  Then he crumples it into a ball and advances towards me slowly. “Why didn’t you tell me you were going to meet up with your past?”

  I say softly, “I wasn’t going to go. I wanted to throw it in the trash before you got home.”

  His eyes flash. “Are you sure about that, Sarah, you see I don’t believe you. I think you were going to go without me and that makes me angry.”

  I start to shake as he winds the belt around his fist and says angrily, “Why would you hide something like that unless you were planning something? You know I don’t like secrets and it makes me mad. I’m thinking the worst now, Sarah because maybe there’s a secret you don’t want me finding out. Is that the case because if you’re hiding something from me, I won’t be happy?”

  He reaches the bed and stares down at me and I shake my head. “I’m sorry, Richard. I never mentioned it because I didn’t want to go. I thought you may make me and they are the last people I ever want to see again.”

  He removes his shirt and I see the lust shining in his eyes. “You know I believe you, don’t you baby? You know I trust you, don’t you?”

  I swallow hard and say weakly, “Yes.”

  Shaking his head, he sits astride me and says softly, “You know this will hurt me more than you, my darling.”

  The tears fall from the corners of my eyes as I nod and say in a whisper, “Yes.”

  His breathing becomes more ragged and I steel myself for his punishment.

  Flipping me over, he reaches across and tethers my hands to the metal bed frame with his belt. I feel the bite of the leather as it tears at my skin as he kicks my legs apart. Running his hand down my back, he says in a sinister voice. “You only have yourself to blame for this. You know I love you, don’t you?”

  I say in a whisper, “Yes.”

  His hand runs over my ass and pinches it hard. Then he says roughly, “Do you have anything to say?”

  My voice sounds far away as I say shakily, “I’m sorry, Richard, please forgive me.”

  He hisses, “For what?”

  “For keeping something from you and hiding the evidence.”

  As soon as the last word leaves my lips, his hand connects with my ass. The pain shoots through me and I bite my lip. I feel the sting as he says, “Tell me you love me.”

  Squeezing my eyes tightly shut, I say, “I love you, Richard.”

  Slap.

  Another stinging blow makes me cry out, and he says angrily, “Did you just make a sound?”

  Slap.

  Another stinging blow as I shake my head and then he says darkly, “You know I have to punish you, don’t you, Sarah?”

  I choke out, “Yes.”

  Slap.

  This time the blow is even harder and catches me on the part that still smarts from the previous one. I bite my lip as he says, “I don’t think you’re sorry enough.”

  I start to plead. “Please Richard. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.”

  Slap.

  The tears fall and it feels as if I’m fire. Then I hear the sound of his zipper and feel him enter me roughly, cruelly and without care. He starts to pound into me from behind as the pain fills my mind. His grunts are the only sounds in the room along with the bang of the metal headboard against the wall as he punishes me. He is relentless until he satisfies himself before pulling out.

  The cool air on my abused ass soothes the pain as I hear him move to the bathroom. I lie still and make no sound as he cleans himself up before returning what is probably 15 minutes later. His voice is laced with derision as he says slowly, “What do you say, Sarah?”

  I whisper, “Thank you, Richard.”

  He reaches for the belt and unties my hands. Then he pulls me to face him and wipes the tears from my eyes with his fingers.

  “Why do you push me, baby? You know what it does to me.”

  He pulls me towards him and holds me in his arms rocking me like a baby.

  “There, there, it’s over now, all is forgiven.”

  He pulls me against him and we lie in the darkened room until sleep erases the horror of my reality. Sleep is the only escape from this living hell and I’m not sure how much longer I can go on.

  Chapter 3

  We could never learn to be brave and patient, if there were only joy in the world. Helen Keller

  Life carries on as normal the next day and I’m just grateful for the chance to see the girl I want to be having a happy life. As I drive to work, I imagine myself in her shoes. How lucky she is to wake up every day with no fear. I expect she has many friends and a loving family. She probably enjoys a loving relationship without fear and looks forward to going home every night.

  I’m not sure how my life ended up this way. When I first met Richard, he was everything I hoped for and more. I used to feel so incredibly lucky that he chose me and I suppose it’s that part of me that didn’t stand up for myself when it started. I should have seen the warning signs. I should have known, but I was always so afraid he would leave me. Now I want that more than anything. Ironic really.

  The weekend comes and signifies an end to any freedom I enjoy. We wake at 7 am on Saturday morning and the first item on the agenda is our usual jog around the neighbourhood. I make sure to follow Richard a few steps behind so he can set the pace. Despite everything, I love this morning jog. It means I can grab some alone time without the need for conversation.

  Richard listens to his music and sets off at quite a pace. I am not allowed that luxury because my job is to act as his eyes and ears for approaching cars. As we turn the corner, I see Sally Benson heading towards her car. She is dressed for her usual Pilates class and she raises a hand to wave and I see Richard acknowledge her. I do the same and she calls out, “See you later guys.”

  Nodding, I leave her behind and think about the evening ahead. It’s the usual monthly get together with the neighbours. Tonight, it’s at Sally and Crispin’s home and promises to be the usual assault course as I attempt to navigate through an evening where I pretend we are a normal and happy couple.

  I see James Clyde washing his car and Richard raises his hand and waves. I just smile across the street and see him grin and shake his head as he carries on with his task.

  Mrs Barlow’s dog barks as we pass her front lawn and the paperboy ahead crawls along the kerb, throwing the papers on the driveways as we pass.

  As days go, it’s going to be a good one. Weather-wise that is. The sun is already promising a glorious summer’s day and the sweet birdsong should fill me with happiness. The trouble is, nothing does anymore.

  I’m not sure when I stopped loving Richard. It was so gradual it shocked me when the realisation hit. I think back over the last few years and feel so incredibly sad. I was so happy when Richard started paying me attention. We met through friends and I remember wondering how on earth such a man was still single? He was attentive, funny and kind and I fell in love with him almost immediately.

  I suppose we had what’s called a whirlwind romance and within six months we were engaged and planning our wedding. We married on a beach in Antigua and the fairy tale was all set for a happy ever after.

  Maybe it’s because I have such low self-esteem, I placed him high above me on a pedestal. He could do no wrong and I had to up my game if I stood any chance of holding onto him.

  You see, our whole relationship was filled with anxiety from the start. I was afraid of losing him so let the odd cruel comment slide. They started coming more often, and he caught me out on many things I had done wrong. The burnt dinner as I chatted on the phone. The birthday card I forgot to post and the childhood trophy I smashed into pieces by accident. I began to think I was clumsy because whatever I did ended badly. His pristine white shirts dyed pink from a top of mine caught in the wash. Shredding a valuable document by accident and leaving water marks on the polished furniture. It was always my fault, and I deserved the cutting remarks and c
haracter slurs.

  However, I didn’t. Nobody deserves to be made to feel as worthless as I do. In the early days, I challenged him. There were many raised voices and terrible arguments that lasted for days. Sex was the only way out of them and it’s that part of me I hate the most. The part that craves his touch and longs for his approval. As I said, he’s an impressive man, and any attention was worth more than no attention.

  Soon he started to dominate me in every way. He started to control every part of my life, starting in the bedroom. At first, it was fun to play games and try different things. Then it spilled over to our everyday life and now he controls every part of me 24/7.

  I feel disgusted with the whole situation. I hate myself for becoming this weak-willed woman, with no backbone to fight back like I know I should. As I said before, to everyone else I have it all. I wish I could just walk away because I would rather have nothing than this tainted life of mine.

  We reach home and my heart sinks as Richard says over his shoulder, “I’m taking a shower. Make sure you tidy up before you have yours.”

  He kicks off his trainers and heads upstairs, leaving me to put them in the laundry room to be cleaned and put away.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see the postman deliver the mail next door and head outside to see what he’s got for us. However, when I check the mailbox on the wall outside, it’s empty which strikes me as odd. It has been for the last few days which is unusual. There is always post, whether it’s a circular or a bill, there’s always something.

  I see Gloria my neighbour and she waves and says brightly, “Hey, Sarah. Still sticking to the regime, I see.”

  Looking down at my running vest covered in perspiration, I smile. “Yes, it’s good for you. Maybe you should try it.”

  She laughs loudly. “Listen, honey. I have the fittest personal trainer in the world who visits me at home three times a week. Let’s just say he pushes me hard and I need the remaining days to recover.”

  She winks as she grabs her mail. “You know, I could get you his number if you like. I can highly recommend him.”

  Shaking my head, I roll my eyes. “No thanks, I have more than enough to keep me busy.”

  She laughs. “I should say so. You hit the jackpot with Richard you lucky girl. Anyway, it’s at least eight hours before we’re due at Sally’s. I need to get ready.”

  Her laughter floats across the manicured lawn, framed by sweet smelling, herbaceous borders. As I look around, it strikes me that Richmond Avenue is impressive. There is nothing out of place and it almost looks like a film set. Even the flowers looked staged. The woodwork is pristine and mainly painted white. The grass is cut about an inch all over and the concrete clean and free from weeds or marks.

  Nothing about life in Richmond Avenue seems real. Pretty houses and fancy cars sit proudly outside. Any children around these parts are well behaved and kept mainly indoors. It doesn’t seem normal and I wonder when this perfection started to disturb me. As I think of Gander Green lane, my heart settles a little. Nothing is perfect there but everything is perfect. To me, anyway.

  As soon as I get inside, I place my soaked running clothes in the laundry basket and wrap myself in my robe ready to shower. As I head upstairs, I have to pass through the dressing room to reach the shower. I see Richard with a towel wrapped around his waist while towel drying his hair. He straightens up and I hate the way my body reacts to the sight of him. It betrays me every time and is the main reason why I’m as weak as I am.

  Trying to distract him, I say with surprise. “You know, Richard, we haven’t had any mail in days. It’s unusual, do you think something’s happened?”

  He looks up and shrugs. “I had it redirected.”

  A cold feeling creeps through me and I stutter, “What do you mean?”

  He shakes his head and says angrily, “I set up a redirection to the office. After that little stunt you pulled the other day, I can’t trust you to be honest about what arrives here. This way, I get to check that nothing is being kept from me.”

  My heart starts thumping, and I say shakily, “You can’t do that. It’s against the law to tamper with mail.”

  He looks at me furiously and I start to shake inside as he crosses the small room quickly and grabs my wrist hard. He says coldly, “You have made me into this person, Sarah and if you don’t like it, you only have yourself to blame. I need to be able to trust my wife and here I am having to monitor your every move because you keep on hiding things from me.”

  His grip is biting into my wrist and I try to pull away which angers him more.

  He pulls me roughly against him and grabs hold of my hair, pulling it tight. Then he snarls, “You will get your mail when I get home at night. You can open it yourself in front of me and then we will have no secrets. I am saving you from yourself and you need to understand that everything I do is with your best interests in mind. So, what do you say, Sarah?”

  I say fearfully, “Thank you, Richard.”

  He pushes me away and I stumble against the wall. My wrists hurt and the tears well up in my eyes. Richard just carries on getting ready and says dismissively, “You need to shower; I can smell you from here.”

  Quickly, I head to the shower and close the door, hoping he leaves me to it. There are no locks on the doors in this house, he saw to that. I have no privacy at all and he walks in unannounced even when I’m using the toilet with no regard for privacy. Consequently, I don’t hang around and make short work of washing the sweat and fear from my body, before grabbing the robe from the hook on the door.

  When I enter the dressing room, I’m happy to see he has left and I sit on the bench, shaking. I shouldn’t be surprised about the mail. In fact, I should be more surprised that he didn’t think of it sooner.

  Once again, I wonder how much longer I can go on. I need to get away from here and fast but I have nowhere to go. My family have made it clear they want no part of my life and any friends I had before have long since faded away. Richard didn’t like them and made it difficult for me to see them. The only friends we have are the neighbours and his office colleagues. I have no money because he controls all the bank accounts and gives me a small amount each week for the necessities. The credit cards are in his name and even my wages get paid into his account. My phone is on a contract with his and my car is in his name.

  It’s always just been easier to get through the day and hope things change. The worse thing is, I fantasise about him having an accident on the way home from work. The sight of a police car at my door would fill me with happiness rather than sorrow. Sad really, when the only way out is to wish him to die.

  The rest of the day is spent like every other Saturday. I clean the house from top to bottom and Richard hides away in his study. Occasionally, he ventures out to check my work by running a finger along a door frame or pointing out some dust in the corner that has escaped the hoover.

  I make us lunch and we sit together at the table overlooking the street, while he tells me why everybody who lives here is beneath us.

  It’s almost with a sigh of relief that I get ready to head out to Sally’s house for the evening. At least we will be among company and can pretend we’re normal just like everyone else.

  Chapter 4

  Jealousy, that dragon which slays love under the pretence of keeping it alive. Havelock Ellis

  Sally and Crispin live in a large, white, house, similar to ours. As soon as we knock on the door, it swings open and Sally yells, “Here they are, my favourite neighbours.”

  She says this to everyone, so we smile politely and hand her the bottle of wine we brought with us. Crispin slaps Richard on the back and says loudly, “Good to see you, come and get a beer.”

  I watch with relief as he drags Richard off and Sally links her arm in mine. “That’s got rid of them. Come on, I’ll fill your glass full tonight, honey, you look as if you need it.”

  I can’t argue with that and allow her to pull me among the other wives who are sitti
ng in the garden enjoying the last of the day’s sunshine.

  I take a seat among them and go through the motions of pretending everything’s alright. Gloria leans over and whispers, “Hey, you see Angela over there.”

  I look across and see one of the other neighbours looking a little worse for alcohol already.

  She says in a low tone, “Word is, Vincent’s having an affair with their nanny. Not very original but apparently Angela caught them when she came home early from Yoga.”

  I say in a shocked voice, “That’s terrible, what did she do?”

  Gloria shakes her head. “Took to the bottle – again.”

  “What about the nanny?”

  Gloria sneers. “Still there. You know Angela. The thought of her husband having it away with the hired help is just an inconvenience because if she had to actually look after her own children, she would be in rehab quicker than she could uncork the next bottle.”

  I stare at Angela in amazement and say sadly, “The poor woman.”

  Gloria snorts. “Don’t feel sorry for her, honey. She told me she was enjoying playing with her new pool boy. They’re as bad as each other and will never change. What’s the point in staying married when they obviously can’t stand each other?”

  My heart flutters and I try to look as normal as possible. “Yes, why indeed?”

  I catch Richard’s eye and he smiles sexily across the room, making Gloria sigh beside me. “On the other hand, there’s the two of you. Love’s young dream and the envy of us bored housewives everywhere. You’re the lucky one, Sarah. You give hope to the rest of us.”

  I bite my tongue because she couldn’t be further from the truth. The trouble is, Richard has perfected the happy couple routine over the years. He is attentive, caring and kind in company and the complete opposite when the door closes on the world. Nobody would believe me if I told them what really went on behind the closed doors.