by Kay Maree
“It’s just . . . nah, don’t worry about it. It’s nothing.” He shook his head. “I need you to go through the invoices this morning and send out reminders for the overdue accounts.”
“Sure.” She enjoyed having things to do. As much as she loved her job, sometimes she wondered why Graeme needed her there.
She watched as he retreated to his office, and when he turned back, she thought he was going to say something, but again, he shook his head and walked away. How bizarre.
The following days continued as usual. Work was work. Karl was Karl. It was only Graeme acting strangely, always seeming like he wanted to say something, but thinking better of it. When Friday afternoon arrived, he waved goodbye to his last client before moving to her desk. His demeanour immediately gave rise to the fact something wasn’t right. He seemed nervous. Unsure of what he was about to say.
“Kiera,” he rested his backside against her desk. “You’ve been here with me for what? Five months now?”
“Six months on Monday,” she corrected him.
“Six months,” he repeated quietly. “Look, you have been great. I took a bit of a chance taking you on.”
“And I appreciate it. You have no idea.”
“I think I do,” he nodded. “It’s just . . . I’m going to have to let you go.”
“Let me go? As in you are firing me?”
His head flopped forward, and he stared at his shoes. “I’m sorry, Kiera.”
“But why? What did I do?”
“It’s not so much what you’ve done. It’s your husband. I’m sorry, Kiera. I don’t know what you tell him, but I can’t have him abusing me. It’s just not on.”
“Karl?” she sat back hard against her chair. “What does Karl have to do with anything?”
He shook his head and pulled his phone from his pants pocket. After clicking a few buttons, he scrolled up his screen before flashing it before her eyes. Screen after screen of messages appeared with Karl’s name at the top. Her eyes found his, confused by what she was seeing.
“I thought Karl was a good man. I was doing him a favour taking you on, but his threats have been increasing every day.”
“Wait, what? You know Karl?”
“Only professionally. He called me and asked me to give you a chance. Look, I’m glad I did. Don’t get me wrong. You have been great.”
“But I thought you employed me because . . . .” She trailed off at the realisation that Karl had played a part in her gaining employment. She should have known.
“The reasons aside, I have been happy with your work. My decision has nothing to do with that, you have been nothing, if not professional. Trust me when I say, it’s either I let you go, or I will have to involve the police.”
“The police?” her voice pitched higher.
“There are some pretty serious threats there.” He nodded at the phone that now lay on the desk between them.
Kiera leaned forward and read; If you lay a finger on my wife, I will rape your wife with a whisky bottle, tie your daughter to her bed, then burn your fucking house down. The tiny hairs stood up on her arms, and her skin burned.
“That is awful,” she admitted. “Who would even say such revolting things?”
“Your husband, apparently.”
“No . . . no. Not my Karl.” She shook her head.
Scooping his phone up, he waved it in front of her. “I have every reason to go to the police. With this evidence, I could have him charged in a heartbeat. I like you, Kiera, that’s why I’m letting you go.”
“I’m so sorry,” she flustered as she reached for her handbag and her water bottle. “I am so very sorry. I just can’t even imagine why Karl would say those things.”
“I’m sorry too. I know it’s none of my business, but if he’s hurting you, please think about getting some help. If he’s like this with someone he barely knows, I hate to imagine what he’s like at home.”
* * * *
“You have finally lost your mind, haven’t you? You lost your job, and it’s my fault? That’s rich, Kiera.”
“He showed me the texts, Karl. You can’t deny it. You’re lucky he didn’t go to the police. What were you thinking?”
“You can’t blame me for being a useless idiot, Kiera. I don’t know anything about these fucking messages. I don’t know Gavin. I don’t know what fucking planet he’s on or what you’re talking about.”
“Graeme.”
“What?”
“His name is Graeme, not Gavin.”
“I don’t give a flying fuck what his name is.”
“So, where did he get the messages from then?”
“How should I know?” He raised his hands in the air. “He probably made them up. You probably made them up.”
“I didn’t make them up.”
“Well, I certainly didn’t. Where do you get off accusing me of shit? Huh?”
Kiera struggled to find words. She couldn’t explain it. She knew what she had seen. Graeme had said he knew Karl. That he had done him a favour by employing her. Why hadn’t told her that before? Maybe he was making it up. It was a pretty elaborate way to get rid of her. Tears stung her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.
“I will start looking for a new job on Monday. At least I have some experience this time.”
Karl scoffed and shook his head. “I doubt anyone will want you now. You got fired, that doesn’t look good on your resume. You’re such a pathetic fool.”
His words ground their way into her soul. She’d have preferred he hit her sometimes, the pain he caused with his words ate at her. She felt useless and pathetic.
Chapter 17
“I can’t. I have someone here. No, of course not. From out of town. I’m sorry. I’ll let you know as soon as she’s gone.”
Kiera awoke to the sound of voices. Karl was talking to someone, a woman. She could hear a feminine voice but not what was being said, only from him. Reaching for her robe, she slipped it over her arms and swung her feet over the side of the bed before tiptoeing out of the bedroom to the living room.
As she approached, Karl slammed the front door closed and spun on his heel.
“Who was that?” she inquired.
“Just the neighbour.”
“The neighbour?” she asked, thinking it was odd. In all the years they had lived in the house, the neighbour had never called before.
“Yeah, she came to thank me for collecting her rubbish bin from the side of the road after the kerb collection.”
Kiera’s brows drew together. “Why would you do that?”
Karl shrugged. “Just being a good neighbour.”
Something was off; she could feel it. Karl had never been a good neighbour; it just wasn’t who he was. Collecting rubbish bins wasn’t something he did.
She had been out of work for a week, and Karl had been unbearable to be around, so she had spent much of her time in the kitchen. She had learned to bake all those years ago for him since he had loved her baked goods. These days it had become somewhat of a release for her. She could disappear into her kitchen and a world of her own making. Karl was always appreciative of the cookies and cakes she baked, but there was always more than they could eat, and much of it went to waste.
Karl was busy, playing his games, as usual, so she decided to pop next door and provide a plate of goodies to the neighbour. Her and Karl’s house was on a corner, so they technically only had one neighbour. The house to the left with the white picket fence was the only one they had referred to as a neighbour at any rate.
Kiera slipped through the side door unnoticed, and made her way up the drive, taking in the rubbish bins that Karl had brought in for her. He had never spent so much time at home, perhaps he was growing bored. She smiled to herself, thinking she shouldn’t have doubted him. Of course, he would do something nice for their neighbour.
When the older woman answered her rap on the door, a look of surprise and confusion
flashed across her face. They had seen each other in the yard, exchanged waves, but had never been to each other’s door, well Kiera hadn’t been to hers.
“Hi, I’m Kiera from next door,” she smiled and gestured to her own house.
“I . . . ah, I know who you are.” The woman scrunched her brow as she looked to Kiera’s house and back to her.
“I’ve been baking, and I had too much, so I thought perhaps you might like some.” She extended the plastic plate to the woman with a proud grin. When the other woman didn’t take the offering, she awkwardly pulled it back toward herself. “I mean . . . like . . . you don’t have to take it. I’m sorry. I hope you’re not allergic. Are you allergic?”
“I’m not allergic, it’s just . . . ,” She went quiet and stared at her feet for a few uncomfortable seconds before continuing. “I am just a little surprised to see you. Someone, I thought it was your sister, told me you had fallen ill and passed away.”
“I passed away? My sister?”
“I’m glad you haven’t,” the woman quickly added. “You look really well, by the way.”
“Hang on a minute, who told you I died?”
“The woman who lives there?” She pointed to Kiera’s house.
“No, I’m the only woman who lives there.”
The woman shot her a sad smile. “I’m sorry, this is all a bit weird. I must have misunderstood. I’m glad you’re okay.” A nauseating feeling washed over her, and her legs began to wobble beneath her. The other woman must have noticed and asked, “Are you okay? Do you want to come in? Sit down for a minute?”
Tossing a glance over her shoulder, to her own home where she knew Karl was busy with his game, she nodded.
Entering the house next door felt surreal. It was similar to her own, but where her walls wore beige coloured paint, this one wore a deep blue. A huge, bright red couch filled an ample space in the living room, and the kitchen entrance was on the opposite side to Kiera’s own. It was like a mirror image structurally, but the décor couldn’t be more opposite.
Taking the plate of baked goods from her hand, the woman led her to the couch and encouraged her to sit, offering her a cup of tea, which she declined.
“Karl doesn’t know I’m here. He will be worried if he finds me gone.”
The woman nodded in understanding. “Would you like me to call on him? Let him know you’re here?”
“No,” she tried a smile, but it came out more like a grimace.
“I didn’t mean to shock you. Honestly, I must have misunderstood. I’m so embarrassed. I was sure the woman said she was staying there or was moving in.”
“No, please tell me more. What happened?”
“I was just out collecting my mail, and a lady pulled up in her car. I asked if she was the new neighbour. I hadn’t seen you in the yard for a long time, and I figured you had moved. She said something about a sister, I’m not sure, I didn’t quite understand if she was your sister or your husband’s. She said that you had sadly passed away after a short illness. I felt terrible. I know we never spoke, but I felt perhaps I should have known you were sick, at least.”
“I wasn’t sick, I’ve been working.”
“It’s very odd.”
“This woman? Did she give you a name?”
The woman stared at the painting on the wall as if it held the answer. Kiera’s eyes followed her gaze and took in the watercolour with its abstract blue hues.
“I think she said it was Danica or Bianca,” she mused, tapping her fingertips on her lips. “Yes, Bianca, that’s what it was.”
“Bianca,” Kiera repeated, letting the name roll off her tongue. She didn’t know anyone called Bianca. “Did she mention me by name?”
“I don’t recall. I think she just referred to you as Karl’s wife.” She turned back to her; this time, her intense blue eyes bore into her. “Look, I am really sorry. Here you were trying to be kind, and I tell you all this.”
“No, please don’t be sorry. Thank you. I must really be getting back.” She rose to her feet and forced a smile. “Thanks so much for allowing me in. I don’t know what came over me out there. It must be the heat.”
“Yeah,” the woman nodded unconvinced. “Thank you for the goodies.” She held up the plate she was still holding. “I’m sure I will enjoy these. Even though I know, I probably shouldn’t.” She laughed and patted her rounded stomach.
She seemed nice, it was a shame she hadn’t made more of an effort previously. Reaching the front door, she turned back with an afterthought.
“Say . . . has Karl been collecting your rubbish bins?”
“My bins?” Her brow crinkled.
Kiera’s suspicions were confirmed. “Don’t worry. It doesn’t matter,” she brushed away, trying to keep her voice even. It seemed Karl had been lying to her about a lot of things.
* * * *
She let the door slam shut behind her, not caring if he heard and secretly hoping he might. Reality; he would be too absorbed in his game to bother noticing she had even left the house. Making her way to the living room, her expectations were fulfilled. She walked past the television and was met with a scowl of disgust. So, she reached for the remote control and switched it off.
“Hey! What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
“We need to talk.”
“I need to play my game, and you need to get out of my way.”
“No!” She surprised herself with her assertiveness. “I know it wasn’t the neighbour at the door this morning. Who was it?”
Karl’s eye grew dark and stared at her for a long moment. “What’s it to you?”
“What’s it to me?” her voice pitched higher than usual. “How about I know you’re lying to me? I want to know what else you’re lying about.”
“Oh, my poor, sweet Kiera,” his voice dripped honey as he spoke. “Maybe you should go have a laydown.”
“I don’t need a laydown, I need answers.”
“I’ve given you the answers. I don’t know what you’re trying to accuse me of here.”
“I just want the truth, Karl.”
“I’m not lying to you.”
“Then who is Bianca? Why has she been coming to our house? Are you sleeping with her?”
“Be… who?” He scratched his head, his face blank.
“See? What’s the point of even trying with you? I’m just over your cheating and lying.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about woman.” The sweetness in his voice was gone, replaced with building anger and resentment. “I think it’s about time you gave up accusing me of things. You’re fucking crazy.”
“And the woman next door? Is she crazy too?”
Karl raised and dropped his shoulders. “Probably. How should I know?”
Tears stung in the corners of her eyes. “Maybe I am crazy. Crazy for staying with you. Crazy for believing all the lies and bullshit you have fed to me for so long.”
“Whatever.” Karl rolled his eyes.
It was apparent he didn’t care. He only wanted to protect whatever secret he was keeping, and she’d had enough. Turning on her heel, she made her way to her bedroom and not for the first time, started packing her belongings. This time she really was going to leave. She had no idea where she might go, but had to get away. Maybe then it would make Karl see.
“This shit again, huh?” Karl asked when she entered the living room, bag in hand. “Where do you think you are going this time?”
“Away from you.”
“No, you’re not.” He shook his head in disbelief. “You’re not leaving me.”
“You can’t keep me here,” she spat, a mixture of anger and fear made her voice falter and sound unconvincing.
Karl sprang to his feet as she pushed past him and reached for her, grabbing her wrist. He wrenched the bag from her hand. “No one wants you, Kiera, and I can’t fucking blame them. You are crazy. No one will take care of you like I do. Eve
n your own mother doesn’t want you.”
His words sliced into her like a jagged knife. She knew he was right. She hadn’t spoken to her mother in years, it had been easier that way. Who else did she have? Haley? Her relationship with her sister was strained, at best.
“You’d be on the streets if weren’t for me. What are you going to do? Whore yourself?” he scoffed. “That would be a joke, no one wants a frigid whore.”
Kiera narrowed her eyes. “I hate you.”
“That’s bullshit, and we both know it. You love me. Now quit with your crap and go make my dinner.”
“How about you quit pushing me around?”
“Pushing you around, huh?” He reached out and shoved her shoulder. “Is that what you think I’m doing? Well, how’s this for pushing you around?” He pushed again, causing her to lose her footing and stumble back onto the coffee table.
Finding her feet again, her right hip screamed out in pain. “You hurt me.”
“That’s what you want, isn’t it? To make me look like the bad guy. To run around saying he hurt me. I didn’t hurt you, did I? You’re an idiot. It’s not my fault if you can’t stand on your own two feet. You think you’re so fucking hard done by? You don’t appreciate anything I do for you. Always crying about this or that. Wah, wah, wah.” He rubbed his eyes mockingly with his fists. “You’re pathetic, Kiera. Fucking pathetic.”
Kiera’s eyes dropped to the floor, along with her resolve. There was no escaping this man and his brutality. In so many ways, she knew he was right, and maybe she was pathetic. Perhaps there was no reason for her to be around anymore at all.
Chapter 18
Cold air had taken over from the heat of the day. The shade had long since turned into long shadows as the night slowly crept in. The hum of the vehicles overhead had begun to thin as everyone returned home to their lives. A strobe of red and blue lights punctuated the darkness, followed by a beam of bright white light that flashed along the footpath.
“Police. Who’s down there?”
“We’re coming out,” Lucan, the man she had spent much of the day pouring her heart out to, called back before turning to her. “Are you ready to go?”
