by Anna Jacobs
When Stu put down the phone, Gabrielle gathered her courage together and asked, ‘Are you sure you don’t want to wait a little longer? We’re losing a lot of money.’
‘I thought we had discussed this. I’m losing chances to use my money by waiting. I don’t give a damn what you’re losing. I have a deal pending – a private deal that’s going to make me a lot of money. I didn’t waste my time in Prague and I need to go straight back there once we’ve signed the contract.’
He drained the last of the whisky and stood up. ‘I think it’d be better if I drive you to the agency and we sign the papers there.’
‘I’ll drive myself. My car is OK now.’
‘No, you won’t. I’m not letting you out of my sight, or out of range of my hands till you’ve signed on the dotted line. Go and change into something smarter. I don’t want to be seen out with a fat, badly dressed frump.’
‘I’ll put my best coat on over this.’
‘You’ll change into something decent.’ He gave a nasty grin. ‘I’ll strip those things off you myself if you don’t.’
She couldn’t help shuddering at the thought of him touching her again.
He roared with laughter. ‘You’re frightened I’ll want you. Dream on. I’m with a real woman now, who is verrry satisfying in bed. You’re useless to a real man.’
‘Then why did you marry me?’
‘I was in an optimistic mood – thought I could improve you, bring you out of your shell. And you had the money for the deposit on a house. Dear Edward did me a favour there. People said we were in for a property boom. The financial side of things counted most of all to me. People were wrong, though. I’d just missed the boat. But I don’t intend to do that again.’
He yanked her to her feet and pointed her towards the stairs, pushing her hard with the flat of his hand, so that she stumbled forward. ‘Go and change, damn you. And be quick about it.’
But as she was coming down, the phone rang again. Stu ended the call and turned to her. ‘Peter thinks it’ll be more efficient if he gets us to sign the contracts here and then takes them to our buyer for his signature.’
‘But—’
He poked her hard with his forefinger. ‘You aren’t going to make any trouble, are you?’
‘No.’
‘You’d better not.’
When Peter arrived, he hardly looked at her.
Stu read the contract from beginning to end, amended two minor points and made her initial his changes too.
She gathered her courage together. ‘I need to read it as well. I won’t sign it till I’ve done that.’
Peter looked at Stu, who stared down at the pieces of paper, then shoved them across the table to her. ‘Read it quickly, then.’
She read it through carefully, amending the way the money was to be paid to her.
Stu sucked his cheeks thoughtfully, then shrugged. ‘No skin off my nose.’
She waited, aching to get this over and done with.
‘I will need my own copy,’ she said, as Peter gathered up the papers. ‘There’s a photocopier in the corner shop at the end of the street.’
‘Good idea,’ Stu said. ‘I’ll get a copy, too. Then you can take the original to the buyer and get his signature, Peter, so that we can set things in motion. You can send another copy to us to initial if the buyer wants any more amendments.’
‘He won’t. I’ve worked with him before. This is his standard contract.’
Stu insisted on taking Gabrielle to the corner shop in his car. ‘Don’t want you running away,’ he said cheerfully as he drove her there.
After they’d made the copies, she said, ‘I’d like to walk back, if you don’t mind, Stu. I need some fresh air.’
‘Suits me. Things to do. Faces to meet.’
She no longer cared what he did. It was going to cost her financially, but she was almost free of him.
She stood in the street watching him drive away. She felt numb with misery – and shame. She’d been a coward, given in to him too easily.
But she’d been terrified, not so much of the pain itself as of the pleasure he was taking in inflicting it on her. That had been the most terrifying thing about it.
And she was so weary of fighting him.
She had a sudden thought and went back inside the shop to ask if they had any empty boxes. She needed to start packing the last of her things now.
‘We’ve lots of boxes, dear. Save us taking them to the tip.’
‘I’ll come back in my car to collect them. I got it back from being repaired yesterday.’
The shopkeeper smiled. ‘No need. My son can take you home in the van. We can fit as many boxes as you need into that. And it’ll save me disposing of them. I really like it when people move house. Are you staying on in the village?’
‘I’m afraid not.’
‘We’ll miss you.’
She looked round as she was driven back. The village had lost its charm. She was glad she had to get out of the house quickly.
The next time Dan phoned her, she told him the house had been sold and pretended it was for a bearable price.
There was silence for a moment, then he said, ‘Don’t tell me the price if you don’t want to, but please don’t lie to me, Gabrielle.’
She gasped. ‘How did you know?’
‘The tone of your voice changed and you stumbled over some of the words. You find it hard to lie, don’t you?’
‘Yes. Sorry. And … it was a really low price. Stu insisted.’ She didn’t elaborate.
‘I see. What are you going to do now?’
‘Get ready to move out. I’ll have to ask for more time off work to get out by the agreed date. There are all sorts of details to attend to.’
‘Stu isn’t helping at all, is he?’
‘No.’ She was even going to have to pack his remaining possessions. She was relieved when Dan didn’t comment, just left silence to bind them for a few moments.
‘When’s the agreed removal date?’
‘A week on Thursday.’
‘Damn! I wish I could help you prepare for it, Gabrielle, but something else has come up and I can’t get away yet.’
‘I’ll be fine, Dan. And you did help me enormously by doing some of the painting.’
‘That was my pleasure.’
‘Besides, there’ll be no reason for anyone to harass me now I’ve signed the contract to sell, will there?’
‘If even one thing happens, promise me you’ll call, and I will drop everything to come to you.’
‘I promise.’ She heard the sound of voices in the background and waited to see what was happening.
‘I’m afraid I have to go now. I’ll phone you in a couple of days. And don’t forget that number. They’ll contact me straight away in an emergency. Bye.’
She listened to the dial tone purring away to itself. She wished Dan was still at the other end. Even their shared silences were comforting.
With a sigh, she phoned her boss. Best to get this over with. To her relief, he was available to speak to her straight away.
‘I’m afraid I need to ask for more time off, Mr Buckley. We’ve sold the house and I have to get out in less than two weeks.’
He made an angry noise. ‘Gabi, I told you we can’t extend your leave. I’ve got other people going on holiday and I need you here. We’ll give you the moving day off – of course we will – but other people get ready to move house in their own time and so must you.’
‘Well, I can’t do it.’ She closed her eyes, admitting to herself it was more than that. She hated the thought of going back to the noise of the supermarket: people, trolleys, trucks unloading and the eternal muzak playing in the background, even in the offices. Dammit, she wasn’t going to do it. She’d reached her sticking point for things she didn’t want to do. ‘I think I’d better resign. I’m still not feeling well. And I’ll probably be moving away from here.’
‘Ah. Well, all right. I’ll – um, be sorry to lose you.
’
He hadn’t tried to persuade her to stay on, though, had he? That said a lot.
‘You’ll need to come in to do the paperwork and collect your things. Any day after today will be fine. We’ll have everything ready for you.’
‘I’ll do that tomorrow.’
She put the phone down with a shuddery sigh. She was out of work now, would soon be homeless, and she hadn’t got nearly as much money in reserve as she’d had when she met Stu Dixon, damn him.
It couldn’t get much worse.
Yes, it could, she told herself firmly. She could be killed or badly injured in an accident, or get cancer. There were plenty of worse situations. But this was definitely the second lowest point of her whole life. She didn’t let herself think about the worst thing that had ever happened to her. She always pushed that to the back of her mind.
Had she made the right decision about going to Lancashire? She’d soon find out, wouldn’t she?
If she didn’t feel she could settle in Lancashire, she’d have a look at other parts of the country. She could go where she wanted, do what she wanted … until her money ran out.
Then she remembered that Cousin Rose had left her some furniture and a small legacy. She had to go to Rochdale to see the lawyer and find out exactly what she’d been left.
For the first time in days, her spirits lifted slightly because she had some sort of a plan.
By the time the pampering day arrived, Gabi was exhausted, not only from packing and clearing out but also from going through all the checks now in place for selling houses.
She’d managed to keep this day free, because it would be bliss to let someone else look after her, pamper her. Surely that treat would energize her for the move?
Things were definitely looking up. Dan had phoned to say he would be able to finish his job in time to help her move. He would set off early from London and be with her by nine or ten o’clock. She was looking forward to seeing him again.
It’d be good to have someone else around, just in case she needed help. You might think you’d covered everything, but she knew from experience that there would be glitches, queries, things needing her presence.
Stu, naturally, was going to be away at a conference on removal day and wouldn’t be able to help.
‘You ought to be here,’ she’d insisted when he phoned.
‘Why? It’s mostly your stuff. Anyway, this conference is important.’
‘And the boxes of your things aren’t important? Shall I just throw them away? Or give them to a charity shop? Yes, that’s what I’ll do.’
‘Oh, how you harp on about those stupid boxes! Look, the reason I phoned was to tell you I’m sending someone to pick them up the day before you move out, all right? Satisfied now?’
‘I’ll be out for most of the day. Can’t you do it a day earlier?’
‘No, I can’t. You change your appointment.’
‘I can’t. I’ve won a day’s pampering at a local spa. I’m not giving that up for anything.’
‘They’re backing a loser trying to improve your looks. You’ll have to find some way of letting my carrier in.’
‘I’ll leave the side door of the garage open. There are only your boxes in it.’
‘Yes, Madam Nag.’
‘We have to get the house clear, Stu.’
He laughed suddenly.
‘What’s so funny about that?’
‘I just thought of something else. Sorry. We will get the house clear, don’t worry. I want my money.’ He began laughing again as he cut the connection.
She didn’t like the sound of that laughter. It had a nasty, mocking edge to it. He couldn’t be plotting something else, could he? No, of course not. He was probably delighted at the thought of being rid of her.
On pampering day, Gabrielle told her neighbour, a nice old lady, not to worry if people started taking things away from the house, then drove off for her day of relaxation, confident that she’d done everything she could to make things go well for the removal tomorrow. She only had to get through one more day and then she really would be free of Stu.
She felt ashamed that she’d caved in to his bullying, but it was done now, and the main reason was just as valid: selling the house would rid her of him for ever. She would make a better life for herself and be extra careful about future relationships, if any. Men could start off seeming great, but people only revealed their true selves when you lived with them for a while.
What was Dan’s true self? She smiled involuntarily. She liked him, trusted him – well, she thought she could trust him. Only time would tell for sure. At least he was different from Stu – not showy, but quiet and steady. That spoke in his favour.
She found a parking place in a quiet side street and strolled along to the beauty salon, giving herself up to the bliss of a whole day’s pampering. Never mind that the weather was overcast and a bit chilly. It was warm and cosy inside the salon.
The staff of Pampered were wonderful, overwhelming her with offers of tea, coffee, herbal concoctions. They provided a healthy lunch, which she enjoyed greatly. At the end of the session, they photographed her and she didn’t mind that, because she was definitely looking her best. She wished Dan could see her now.
By the time she left the salon, after a final glance in the mirror at her new and more flattering hairstyle, she felt as if her whole body was glowing, ready to act. She smiled up to see the sun shining through the patchy clouds, as if welcoming the new Gabrielle back into the world.
That happy mood ended abruptly when she reached her car. It looked wrong as she approached it, but she couldn’t work out why until she got nearer. The tyres had been slashed – not just one or two, but all four of them.
As she let out a cry of despair, a woman turned to look at her in surprise, then hurried away round the corner, clearly not wanting to get involved in someone else’s trouble.
Gabrielle looked round frantically for help, but there was no one in sight. She’d let her membership of the RAC lapse to save money, because she didn’t travel very far these days and her car had never let her down. Tania was away on holiday and there was no one else she could ask for help.
With only an old-fashioned mobile phone that she hardly ever used, Gabrielle knew of no way to access a phone directory. She couldn’t think who to call for help. Her mind was a blank. She couldn’t remember the name of a garage, only of her petrol station. Stu had always organized car servicing and she’d not had anything done to hers since they parted.
She couldn’t help it: she burst into tears right there in the street, sobbing loudly, leaning against the car.
An elderly man stopped to ask her what was wrong and she pointed to her tyres, too upset to string words together.
He walked right round the car. ‘The rotten devils! Fancy slashing all four tyres! Whatever will this generation do next? You poor thing.’
‘I don’t know what to do, who to call.’
‘Better call the police, love. This is a crime.’
‘I can’t dial nine-nine-nine for slashed tyres.’
‘Hmm. I suppose not.’ He fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a larger than normal mobile phone, probably even older than hers. ‘My daughter programmed some numbers into this for me.’ He clicked and muttered for a moment or two, then said, ‘Aha!’ loudly and held it out to her with an expression of triumph. ‘There you are, love. That’s the number to dial if you need police help but there isn’t a life-threatening emergency.’
She did this with her fingers shaking and was put through to a woman with a kindly voice, who said the police would be with her within the hour.
‘I’ll leave you to it, then,’ the man said. ‘I’m meeting someone or I’d stay with you. Cheer up, love. This isn’t the end of the world.’
No, but it was the final straw in a trying period of her life. The tears were still flowing, but she managed to say, ‘I’ll be all right now. Thanks for your help.’
She could do nothing but wal
k up and down. The sky clouded over completely and the very air around her seemed grey and cheerless. Then a light drizzle began to fall and she remembered that she’d left her umbrella at home. She could have sat in the car, but she wasn’t sure whether that would damage the wheels; anyway, she felt too angry to sit still.
Her thoughts were dark and unhappy. She couldn’t help wondering if it was Stu who’d arranged for this to happen, but she couldn’t figure out why he would bother. She had done what he wanted now, hadn’t she?
Who else but him would target her, though?
No, this must be blind chance. Hooligans.
No passer-by stopped to ask if she was all right, let alone offer to help her, even though several people slowed down to gape at her slashed tyres.
By the time the police arrived, she was wet through and cold, which was stupid of her, but there you were. She was stupid: Stu had told her so enough times. But the most stupid thing she’d done had been marrying him.
The police officers examined her tyres, then one said, ‘There’s not much we can do to catch the perps, love. They won’t have left any clues. We’ll report the incident, of course, and we can get you help, at least.’
They phoned for a tow truck and it came within five minutes. When she explained that she was moving house the next day, the man promised to replace the tyres by the following morning.
‘You can pick it up at ten o’clock,’ he told her as he got back into his vehicle.
She watched her poor little car being driven away and thrust her cold hands into her pockets as she waited for the taxi the police had called for her. They had to move on to their next case and left her to wait on her own.
‘Will you be all right?’ the older police officer asked. ‘You look very upset and you’re soaked through.’
She patted her hair involuntarily. It was dripping down her neck and all the styling had gone out of it. ‘I’ll be OK. Thanks for your help.’
‘You should join a motoring association.’
‘I will.’
When the taxi arrived ten minutes later, she gave the driver her address and leaned back in the seat, eyes closed.
She’d thought things couldn’t get worse! How wrong she’d been. This might only be a minor setback, but it couldn’t have happened at a more inconvenient time.
