Trish's Story

by Georgia Hill

  Adrian lurched close. He put his face into hers. Tash forced herself to stare back, refusing to back down. She could smell his sour breath, feel the fury dagger off him.

  ‘You—’ Adrian snarled. His finger stabbed at her chest. ‘You can fucking clean up after this little shit.’ For a horrible, wrenching second, Tash felt his wavering need, his desperation to hurt her some more. Then he barged past her, knocking her shoulder roughly.

  Tash heard the front door slam and the roar of the Porsche’s engine as it skidded off the drive. She held the terrified dog closer to her; he was whimpering. ‘Oh Benji, I’m so sorry,’ she sobbed. ‘I should never have left you with him. Has he hurt you?’ Standing Benji on the garden table, tears pouring down her face, she felt over the dog’s flanks and then ran a hand down each leg. He didn’t react except to wince and then tremble some more. Tash’s legs wouldn’t hold her. She sank onto the bench, cuddling Benji on her lap. Sinking her face into the dog’s silky fur, she screwed her eyes shut and willed herself to think.

  She made her decision. ‘Come on little man, we need to pack up and go.’ She lifted him carefully down and ran into the utility. He followed her like a shadow.

  Heart pounding, Tash shoved Benji’s stuff into a bag. Putting him on the lead, she whispered, ‘You’ve got to be very brave and stay in the car for a minute while I go and pack. Do you think you can do that?’ Then Tash froze for a second. Fear paralysed her. Should she put Benji and his things in the car first, or stack it up by the front door? What if Adrian came back before she’d gone? If he could mistreat a defenceless dog like that, what might he do to her? She’d tasted enough flashes of Adrian’s temper to know he ran on a knife-edge and had been doing so for some time. She didn’t care if it was work stress that was causing it, she didn’t want to hang around any longer to be his next victim. What if he was watching the house? Ready to stop her as she made her escape?

  Thoughts were wheeling hysterically. She took some deep breaths. Leaving a whimpering Benji in the utility, she went into the garage from the access door in the garden. She opened one of the garage doors an inch and peered out. The estate was perfectly quiet. Next door’s cat shimmied past but otherwise no one was about. A blanket of heat lay over the place. Everything was normal, the house windows blankly ignoring the personal drama taking place. Tash ran out, opened the garage doors fully and backed her car in. Unlocking the tailgate, she left all doors open for a quick escape if needed.

  She ferried all of Benji’s things to the car and then told the still shivering dog that she had to go upstairs. Keeping one eye out through the windows at the front of the house, she shoved underwear, jeans, some toiletries into an overnight bag and ran back down, nearly tripping in her haste. She felt sick. It had all taken far too long. It was nearly half an hour since Adrian had roared off. Long enough for him to have driven around and let go of most of his temper and plenty of time for him to think up excuses for what she’d witnessed.

  Benji nearly scuppered the whole escape. With the car stuffed with a random collection of belongings, he sat on his bottom and refused to get in the passenger side. Tash bit down on her impatience and then when he showed no enthusiasm for getting into the vehicle but just sat and shook, she picked him up and bundled him in. Running around to the driver’s side, she froze in horror, her hand on the door handle. She heard the distinct note of Adrian’s Porsche. Throwing herself in, she rammed the car into gear, shot down the drive and turned right.

  It was, of all people, Marti Cavendish who bought her time. At the entrance to the estate, she had pulled in front of Adrian’s car, blocking him in and at an angle which suggested he had committed some kind of road rage. Marti stood at his open driver window yelling at him.

  Tash caught a fleeting glimpse of Adrian’s furiously red face as she sped past.

  Where could she go? At the junction Tash grasped the steering wheel in a white-knuckled grip. It made sense to turn right and go to her parents’ but Adrian would guess and follow. The house was empty and Tash had no desire to be alone with Adrian ever again. Kit! Kit had said she would be welcome any time. That if she needed a friend, he’d be there. Glancing down at Benji, who had two paws over his nose as if trying to block out the memory of the morning, Tash wondered what else Adrian had done to him. She couldn’t risk Adrian finding the dog. She turned left and headed out of town.

  Chapter 30

  Once clear of Berecombe, Tash pulled into a lay-by and backed up tight in front of a juggernaut. It was pink and called Priscilla-Louise. Weird the things you noticed in times of stress. Priscilla-Louise was enormous and might hide her if Adrian had followed. She called the office and begged Emma to hold the fort for the afternoon. Explaining briefly what had happened and warning that Adrian might go into the office to look for her, she was heartened by the amount of sympathetic swearing on the other end of the line. Emma promised to get Pete in as back-up. She had to cut her off as Benji was beginning to retch. Reaching over him, she opened the passenger door and pointed the dog’s nose onto the grass verge just as he threw up. When he’d finished, Tash lay back on the driver’s seat and wondered how much more she could take. She stroked Benji’s trembling body, soothing him. When she was sure there was nothing more to come up, she got out of the car and ran around to close the passenger door. As she did so, a flash of red roared past.

  Adrian.

  Ducking down, she hoped and prayed Priscilla-Louise had done her job. Getting back in the car, she exited a swift U-turn and sped off in the opposite direction.

  As she’d detoured an extra twenty miles, it took her an hour to get to Kit’s. She stayed on the main roads, not wanting to be stuck down a single-track and risk being boxed in by Adrian. As she drove, she couldn’t believe she was thinking this way about him. Although, if she’d been honest with herself, she realised, all the signs had been there for months.

  ‘I’ve just been deluding myself and putting up with it for the sake of a nice lifestyle,’ she said bitterly to Benji who, having dislodged whatever was making him ill, was looking brighter. ‘Well, more fool me. What have I got to show for it now? Out on the streets with a carful of belongings.’ Slowing the car, she turned off onto the lane that she knew would bring her to Kit’s farm. She turned in past the lodge and bumped up a pot-holed drive, barely registering her surroundings. Scattering some indignant chickens, she let the car come to a rest in front of the house. The adrenaline drained. Covering her face with her hands, she sat unable to move. The engine ticked and, in the distance a dog barked. Benji whined in response. A roaring exploded in her head and all sounds faded. The car filled with her ragged breathing.

  ‘Tash?’ Kit opened the car door and was looking in. ‘Whatever’s happened?’

  ‘Hello, Kit,’ she managed. ‘Do you think you could get Benji some water? He’s not very well.’

  The next few minutes were a blur. Tash was vaguely aware of a woman helping her out of the car and taking her somewhere cool and dark. She had a cold glass of water pressed into her hand and hoped Benji was getting the same. A violent shaking overtook her and the water was taken away. The sofa sank next to her and the woman held her hand until the panic attack passed. Merlin’s woolly head rested on her knee and two wise canine eyes looked up at her in concern. Tash burst into tears.

  ‘Feeling better?’

  The storm had passed and Tash felt a lot better. She blew her nose on the handkerchief which had been offered. It was a large white cotton one. A proper man’s handkerchief, not the scraps of tissue she usually used. ‘Yes,’ she said and then realised nothing had sounded. ‘Yes, thank you.’ She looked at the woman who had looked after her and saw it was Kit’s mother.

  ‘Excellent. Kit’s making us all a cup of tea. And then perhaps you can tell us what’s been going on and why the crisply efficient Natasha Taylor has arrived at my house looking, quite frankly my dear, as if she’s been to the ends of hell and back.’

  Tash nodded and managed a tight smile. Kit c
hose that moment to come in bearing a tray of tea things. He dwarfed the room and looked so incongruous among the faded décor that Tash wanted to laugh. She wondered if she was a little hysterical. Benji trotted at his heels, gazing up adoringly.

  ‘You look a lot better,’ Kit said and put the tea tray on a table. He came to sit on an armchair opposite. ‘You had us a bit worried for a while. We couldn’t get any sense out of you.’

  Tash fondled Merlin’s soft ears. The dog was still pressed to her knees. ‘I’m so sorry to barge in on you. I didn’t feel—’ To her shame, her voice began to crack again. Biting down on more tears, she continued. ‘I didn’t have anywhere else to go.’

  Mrs Oakley patted her arm and then rose. ‘Seeing as I am, shall I be mother? Lots of sugar I think.’

  ‘Thank you, Mrs Oakley.’

  ‘It’s Marianne and I hardly think pouring you a cup of tea warrants such an outburst of gratitude. Garibaldi?’

  Tash stifled a watery grin and shook her head. She’d forgotten how eccentric Kit’s mother could be. She took the tea gratefully, trying not to let the cup rattle in its saucer.

  As if sensing she needed a little more time to recover herself, Marianne Oakley began a conversation with her son. It was something about the price of a sack of carrots for the donkeys.

  Tash let the details wash over her. She lay back on the sofa and sipped her tea. As its heat coursed through her, she felt revived and took in her surroundings. High-ceilinged, the room had white-panelled walls and an air of decaying grandeur. A faded rug covered the floorboards and two chintzy armchairs and the sofa she sat on were grouped around an enormous stone fireplace. All looked well-worn and much loved. It was a million miles away from the executive housing estate and the clinically cream-and-white house she had shared with Adrian. Tash let her thoughts drift. How had she been so blind? So stupid? Why had she let herself disappear into Adrian’s life?

  The sofa sank again, signalling Marianne’s return. ‘More tea, dear?’ When Tash nodded, she added, ‘Fill her up Kit. Ready to tell your tale of woe?’

  Tash nodded again and began to speak.

  Chapter 31

  ‘Oh my giddy goodness!’ Marianne exclaimed. ‘No wonder you wanted to get away. Poor you and poor little Benji.’ She scooped up the dog and cooed over him. ‘You did absolutely the right thing in coming here. Didn’t she, Kit?’

  Kit hadn’t said a word during her long and rambling explanation. He blew out a long-held breath. ‘I knew things weren’t good for you Tash, but I didn’t know it had got quite that bad. How could he kick a defenceless dog? Bastard.’

  ‘Language, Timothy,’ Marianne reproved, to the bafflement of Tash. ‘There will always be men who lash out at animals, as well you know. I think Natasha here has had a lucky escape. It would have been her next. That’s usually the way.’ She patted Tash’s hand. ‘But perhaps we’d do better to consider practicalities? I have just the one bedroom, alas, so you will have to stay here. I’m sure you left in rather a hurry so if you need anything, nighties and such, I will provide.’ She got up, dislodging a reluctant Benji. ‘Kit will show you to the spare room. It’s in the older part of the house, the only bit of Devon longhouse that the Georgians left. I think we’re aiming for shabby chic in terms of décor, so you’ll have to bear with us. I’ll dig out some bedding. Is there anything else we can do for you, dear girl?’

  ‘No, you’ve both been very kind. Too kind. Actually, there is one more thing,’ Tash added, eyeing Benji’s gait as he shuffled across to her. ‘I’d like to get Benji to a vet. He’s been ill and I’d like to have him checked over for any injuries too.’

  ‘Why don’t I do that?’ Kit offered. ‘Having so many animals, we’re regulars at Holmefields, and they’re very good. Mum, if you can get Tash sorted, I’ll go and ring them now.’

  Tash stood, alarmed at how wobbly she still felt. ‘You know there’s no need for you to put me up, I can easily go to my parents’ house. They’re in Portugal but they wouldn’t mind me camping out in my old room. I’m more worried about Benji and Adrian getting hold of him. If he could stay here then I could—’

  ‘No.’ Kit said it with finality. ‘You’re staying here. At least for a day or two. It’ll give you time to think through what you ought to do, take legal advice if needed. We don’t mind a bit.’

  ‘That’s settled then,’ Marianne added cheerfully. She wagged a finger. ‘We’ll be delighted to have you. With all the animals around here, another human balances things up rather.’ She shooed Kit away. ‘Off you go, phone the vet.’ Turning back to Tash, she added, ‘Shall we take your things up to your room?’

  Three hours later, Tash had stowed her meagre belongings in the farmhouse’s spare room, had phoned Pete to ask for leave and had rung Emma again. She’d been relieved to hear that the office had been quiet and, more importantly, that Adrian hadn’t been in. She and Emma had often discussed security but, in a quiet, friendly town like Berecombe, they’d never felt particularly uneasy. That time might have come. Pete had accepted her sudden request for leave without quibble and had promised to take on her workload. Tash found this strange. She liked Pete and he was an okay boss, but he wasn’t usually so understanding. In the shower she shrugged off worries over work with some foamy gel donated by Marianne. It smelled expensively of orange and bergamot and was soothing. Tash sighed as she towelled herself dry. She just didn’t want to face any more responsibilities today.

  Her exhaustion morphed into a not unpleasant floating sensation. Dressed in jeans and a soft sweatshirt, she made her way along the track to the lodge house. Marianne had insisted she cook for them all. Merlin loped along with her, stopping every now and again to sniff something interesting. He hadn’t left her side once since she’d arrived, parking himself on the landing outside her bedroom. As she walked, Tash’s stomach growled; she hadn’t eaten since breakfast. She couldn’t believe that was only eleven hours ago. She felt as if she’d lived most of her life in one short day.

  Stopping halfway, she leaned on the fence to enjoy the tranquillity. A couple of donkeys grazed in the field next to the track and Tash could hear geese and chickens scatting about in the farmyard behind her. The sun was melting into a pink cloud and a premature fingernail moon winked down at her. It was all very green and end-of-summer lush. She looked back at the farmhouse. At some point, its Georgian owner had come into money and had attempted to obliterate the old longhouse original. The front had been remodelled into symmetrical lines but, as she’d seen, the back had been left. Maybe the owners had fallen on hard times before the upgrade had been finished? The bedroom she’d been put in was older and the roof above it, thatched. It was a world away from the red brick and sterile hard lines of the housing estate. Tash took in a deep, cleansing breath. She felt very tired but calm. She had made the right decision. Merlin put a soft mouth into her hand and she walked on.

  The door to the lodge opened at her first knock and an ecstatic Benji leaped up at her.

  Kit followed. ‘Vet says he’s absolutely fine. Had eaten something he shouldn’t and that’s what caused the sickness but nothing serious.’ He caught her look. ‘And some nasty bruising. But, on the whole, he’s been lucky.’

  Tash picked up a wriggling dog and hugged him. ‘Thank God.’

  ‘Indeed. Ah, hello Merlin,’ Kit added. ‘Been looking after our guest?’

  ‘He’s been a wonderful companion.’

  ‘Well, not that much of a guard dog but big and ugly enough to be a good deterrent.’

  Tash gazed at Kit. ‘I hadn’t thought of him like that. That was thoughtful.’

  Kit smiled down at her. ‘Not really. His bark can draw thunder.’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘And then he’ll lick you to death.’

  They stood, smiling idiotically at one another, framed by the fragrant honeysuckle which grew around the door. Kit brushed a drowsy bee away and opened his mouth to speak.

  ‘Are you going to let the girl come in?’ called Marianne from the dep
ths of the house. ‘I’m dying for a glass of something chilled.’

  ‘You’d better come in,’ Kit said. He smiled ruefully and stood aside and let her go first.

  Tash smelled the heat from his body as she went past.

  Chapter 32

  Tash rolled over in bed and came up against Benji, who, taking advantage of the situation, was cuddling up against her. Sun streamed through the thin curtains and the room was filled with early morning sunshine and birdsong.

  The bedroom mirrored the shabby sitting room downstairs. Faded cabbage roses danced around the walls and the iron bedstead looked nearly as old as the house. Easing herself up, she drank some water and lay against the bed head enjoying the tranquillity. Benji snored beside her and then had a yapping dream, kicking out his stubby legs.

  Tash slipped from the bed, not wanting to wake him. She went to the windows and drew the curtains back. The walls were a good two feet thick and the window was set high, nearly into the thatched roof above. She could hear furious tweeting going on from the sparrows burying into the straw.

  Last night had been filled with restoring food and good wine, to the background of Marianne’s odd snatches of conversation and Kit’s quiet presence. She’d gradually relaxed and then Kit had walked her back along the track, with the dogs snuffling along, excited at the night smells. Then she’d slept.

  Now, she had to face up to her future. Find somewhere to live, collect the rest of her things, get back to work. And, worse, she had to ring her mother and explain what had happened to her beloved Westie.

  She put it off by going downstairs to make a coffee. She let Benji and Merlin out and sipped while they did what they had to. Returning upstairs, she decided to have a shower before facing her mother’s wrath. Yawning, she pushed open the bathroom door to be faced with Kit, a skimpy towel clinging around his narrow hips. He stood at the basin, a shaver held mid-air.