by Darren Wills
“No. I didn’t get drunk that holiday. Not at any point during the ten days. Fighting with a German? You must be thinking about World War Two.”
“I suppose I dreamed it.”
I was puzzled. “You must have. You do have some interesting dreams, though. Have you had your recurring dream recently?”
“No. Just the normal ones.”
“They’re a funny thing, dreams. You wake up remembering what you dreamed about, but if you don’t write them down, you often forget them. Perhaps you’ve had the dream but you’ve been forgetting it.”
“Which one?
“The one. The killer one.”
Laura sat up slightly. “No, I’ve not had that dream. In fact, I’ve even forgotten the details of it. Will you remind me?”
I told her the various details that she had told me and she had her eyes wide open. “It’s just like you were saying. Dreams are easily forgotten unless you write them down. Refill my glass, will you, babe.
“My favourite holiday was Venice. I loved the buildings and the food. I thought it was superb. Anyway, why am I in this bath on my own? Get in with me.”
After we had bathed together for long enough, chatting away like old times, we got out. I wrapped a bath towel around her and started to dry her. Straight away, she kissed me. Only a peck on the cheek, but it was enough. I gently pushed her out of the en-suite towards our double bed and she appeared to be welcoming it.
“What are you doing?”
“Making love to you. What do you think?”
She put her arms against me. “I’m thinking no way, not now. I don’t want to.”
“Why not?”
“Do you not understand anything? After all I’ve been through, I need time out. You have to give me more time, babe.”
“It might help you though. It will help us. Make us both more relaxed.”
I felt her eyes probing mine, looking for an answer. The only answer I could give her came from my sex drive. I was so turned on and she couldn’t be unaware of the fact. “Go on then,” she said. “Lie on the bed.”
I lay down on the bed and watched as she dropped the towel and sat astride me. Before long she was gyrating vigorously, looking down at me as she did so, with aggressive contortions in her expression. She was squeezing and digging her nails into my upper arms and it was hurting but I wasn’t going to let her know that and spoil this moment. She increased the speed of her movement and it was over for me very quickly. Straight away she jumped off me and hopped back into the bathroom to clean herself up. The whole thing had probably lasted no more than one and a half minutes and throughout it, Laura had made no sound.
There were now bloodstains on the duvet from what she had done to my arms, which were now featuring deep cuts that would need treating. I went down to get some plasters and antiseptic from the kitchen and applied both. It felt weird, plasters after sex.
She stayed in the bathroom for an hour. I got into bed and switched on the television to watch ‘Stranger Things’. As the programme finished, Laura came into the bedroom and lay down as if to sleep, facing away from me.
“Do we need to talk about it, babe?” I asked.
“Yes, we do, but in the morning.”
The sun was shining through the curtains to announce another warm day when she poked my arm, which hurt from the crazy sex the previous night.
“We do need to talk.”
We were lying in bed, our bed. “What about, babe? I’m all ears.”
“Sex.”
I held up my wounded arms. “Do you mean these?”
“Well, yes. I’m sorry about that, but we need to talk about sex generally.”
“What about it?” At this point I was full of hope that she would say the right things, give me something that would explain and assure.
“I’m not ready, Dom. Just not up to it at the moment. I think it’s some kind of PTSD linked to the attack.”
“OK. I see. But you have been back nearly two weeks.”
“That’s hardly any time. You need to be patient. Do you need a doctor to tell you this or something?”
“No. Of course not.”
“It will pass, hopefully, but just not yet.”
I shrugged my shoulders. “Babe, like I said, I can wait.” Inside my heart was sinking. I was desperate to make love to her again, this time for a longer duration, more normally and less painfully, and I was praying she would feel the same way, knowing what she had been like before. I hadn’t lost my intent to recapture past glory with this wife of mine, although I supposed timing was important. These things could not be rushed. Perhaps that was what we had done last night. Tried too early. That was why the whole thing had been so…different. That was why Laura had been upset in the bathroom for so long and why my arms were cut and bruised this morning. Or was I just fooling myself? Had everything been destroyed in Manchester?
“Anyway, I have some good news for you. You can do something good next Saturday. I’m going out.”
“Oh yeah. Where?”
“A school reunion.”
“Another one?
“Yes. Got a message on Facebook today.”
“Ok, babe. That might be good for you. You need something to get you back on an even keel. Where’s it at?”
“Some place in town. It’s just a few of the people from school. Will probably be boring, but hopefully not.” She looked so happy at the prospect, albeit nervous, as if she had been unsure about my reaction.
“Ok.” I would go out too that night. Jamie would be receiving a text from me and the delay in Laura’s return to normality would be softened for me by an alcoholic session with my budding author friend. I had some more of his chapters to talk through with him and he had a parcel for me. This time it wasn’t a CD; it was a book about amnesia. My secret buying days were over, however, had been since her disappearance and remained so now that Laura had quit work. She had applied for several jobs, she had assured me, and was just waiting for news of an interview.
“You can have a free night. Have a drink.”
* * *
It was early morning when Laura stepped into the bedroom. I had intended to wait up for her, but had fallen asleep watching ‘Newsnight’. I had stayed in after all. Jamie was out on another date so hadn’t been available. I had no other mates, and didn’t want to go and sit in a pub on my own.
Groggily, I glanced at the clock. It was four thirty. I faced her as she undressed. “You’re late. Where’ve you been?”
“Enjoying myself. I think I deserve it. Met up with some people I haven’t seen in years. Dawn’s pregnant and full of it. Gillian and Tracey were reminding me about this maths teacher we had who had a crush on me. Then there’s Leoni. She’s sweet but under a lot of pressure.”
“Pressure?”
“She’s lost her job, like me. Struggling to pay the rent.”
“You didn’t lose your job. You quit.”
“Same difference. Anyway, I had a fantastic time. Went dancing.”
“That’s fab, babe. Just what you need.”
Malevolence
Two things I have often tried to avoid. I don’t have much time for male company and I’ve never liked computers. I have used them for this project quite a lot recently so I suppose I’m learning to live with them. I could never live with a man, with the stupid clumsiness and dirty habits. They’re about one notch above dogs when it comes to sophistication and have all the imagination of stranded starfish. They are made to be taken advantage of then done away with in whatever way.
I’m typing a credit card application. It is my third this afternoon. They aren’t in my name, of course, but a person like me is always on the lookout for more spending money and these should do it. This application is from a woman who died last week – I got some good information off a contact and can pick the ca
rd up from her empty house. I can do some excellent power-shopping then bury the card deep. No damage done.
As far as the big project goes, the bitch tried to wreck my plan by giving out a fake truth. A fucking German? Why did she say that? Pretty stupid, when you’re at my mercy. If she was within reach right now, I would make her pay for that.
I see that that bitch Lillian has been stirring it. She was a problem from the very beginning, but I don’t see her being a problem at the end, in all certainty. Something needs to happen though. I was thinking that she would be easy to overcome but perhaps I underestimated her. Perhaps I need to solve that problem soon.
Revelation
I had met Jamie in the Wetherspoons near the hospital. He was in such high spirits that he might have floated over the hospital roof if I didn’t keep him grounded. “Anyway, I’ll be sending you the last three chapters in a few days. Once you’ve gone through my crazy prose, I’m going to publish it.”
“Publish it? How?” I had helped Jamie with his writing, but thought it was just for fun, not for anybody else to read.
“Just have to send it off. Three hundred quid and I’ve got a cover. Professional too.”
“Well, in that case you’d better send the whole lot back to me. I’ll go through it again. If other people are going to be exposed to your filth, it’s got to be written properly.”
“People are going to want to read this in their droves.”
“How are they?”
“Through Amazon. It’s dead easy. I’m talking to some woman in America. ‘Absolute Too Much’, coming to your internet sometime soon.”
“Wow. Big time or what!” I laughed, then paused. “They weren’t from a fall.” We were in the corner of the Crosspool Tavern, which was busier than usual, as there had been some kind of cricket match on. Jamie and I were sitting in the corner and I needed to talk to someone.
“What?”
“You asked about the bruises. They weren’t from falling.”
“A fight?”
“Not exactly…Laura.”
“You had a fight with her. Fuck off! You’re kidding me, right?”
“Not a fight. Sex”
He grabbed my arm and pushed up my polo shirt sleeve. “Fucking hell, mate. They’re terrible. I know you and she are kinky but you’re a bit cut up there. Sex?”
“It’s not right, is it? It’s not normal.”
“How did it happen?”
“She just grabbed and dug her nails in. She’s stronger than I remember.”
“I once got my hair pulled by a woman but nothing like that. You look like you’ve been savaged by a leopard.”
“Things are bad. Laura’s changed.”
“How do you mean? A tiger in bed?”
“Not just that. Everything is just so empty. Everything good has gone. Half the time she doesn’t speak. She sits opposite me at the breakfast table, but there are no words. I thought things were getting better last week, but in the past few days, everything’s become so miserable.”
“Perhaps she’s not a mornings person anymore.”
“I come home at night and it’s the same. Most of the time there’s no sex, not even any love and when there has been sex, and that’s just the once, on that one occasion since she came back, it was ridiculous. Violent and hurried, like I was doing it with a violent psychopath. She ran away into the bathroom straight after and I didn’t see her for an hour.”
“That’s hard. I guess she’s been affected a lot by what happened.”
“I was thinking the same thing, but now I’m not so sure. It’s just so not right. She’s not the same woman I married. Her mother thinks it’s a different person.”
“That’s crazy. How can that be?”
“It can’t be. It’s Laura. When we go on our walks, she’s the same as she always was. It’s when we’re at home. It’s like she’s changed some. Not her fault, but it’s horrible. It’s left me feeling so uncertain and I thought I’d been through the worst. Horrendous. All I do is pretend all the time that everything is ok and make pathetic excuses.”
“Has she got a new job yet?”
“That’s another thing. I don’t even think she’s looking for work. It’s all bollocks. She even had me pick up her things from the gallery and I had to explain to Max, who was well pissed off. She’s not even had the decency to speak to him, and he did so much for her. He was such a friend to her, gave her a job initially when he didn’t really need her and trained her up. She’s just stabbed him in the back. Just like she’s stabbing me in the same place.”
“What you going to do? The D-word?”
“No. Of course not. I can’t end the marriage. It’s everything. Things just need to change. I just don’t know if the marriage can continue indefinitely with Laura like she is.”
“What then?”
“I’ve got to just hope and give it time. I guess this is some kind of test. I still love her but I’m finding it so hard to like her the way she is right now. Besides, if I don’t stick by her, who will?”
“She has her family.”
“That’s another thing. She doesn’t. Lillian is already doubting her. She doesn’t even think she’s the real Laura, which is absolutely ridiculous. If she isn’t, it’s one hell of a doppelganger.”
“Or else she has a twin?”
“No. Lillian adopted her at birth. She actually delivered her.”
“She delivered her? How does that work? Deliver a baby and it’s yours?”
“It was a bit of a back street adoption from the way Lillian told me. She and her husband paid a woman to be the surrogate but it was all done unofficially. Load of bollocks really. Could never happen now. Social Services would be all over it. Lillian doing the delivery meant that the baby didn’t become official until Lillian filled in some forms and reshaped Laura’s world with the help of her husband’s influence. He used his connections.”
“Connections?”
“He’s fucking shady. Always was. He’s so well-connected and can fix stuff. I think it’s Freemasons, or something like that. Mobsters. He’s painted for all those rich folks. They all have portraits by George in their best rooms. That’s how he got that big house.”
“Weird, if you ask me.”
“I’ll tell you something else that’s weird. Poor August.”
“Your cat?”
“Yes. He and Laura were bosom buddies before all this. Would you believe, I was actually jealous of that cat, with all the affection and cuddling it used to get. Now, she doesn’t feed him, won’t even have him on her knee. Work that one out. Says she’s developed an allergy. How does that work?”
“Again, a bit weird.”
“A bit weird? How can someone who loves animals turn against her pet?”
“What are you going to do?”
“Don’t know. Probably just keep waiting for the old Laura to come back. Just hope it’s not hopeless. It has to be worth it, I keep telling myself that. I can’t count how many times. I think I’m just a soft bastard. Last night didn’t help.”
“Why?”
“We went to the Botanical Gardens. That was always a good place for us. It was a lovely night so I drove us up there. She didn’t want to go, but I have to admit I pressured her. It seems like I need to pressure her more and more to do anything these days. She was talking about watching the TV, but I guess I made a bit of a song and dance about us being a couple who went out and did things, so she relented.
“Well we got there and we were walking down the main path. You know, the one that runs down the middle of the park, with all the benches running down the sides.”
“I know where you mean. I had a date there a few weeks ago.”
“Anyway, we were walking down there, towards where the squirrels all hang out, when this bloke ahead of us, to our left, supposedly rea
ding a newspaper, sits up and says, ‘Well fancy seeing you here.’”
“To you?”
“No. To Laura. Now Laura’s reaction is the strangest thing. She immediately comes over all faint and tells me she needs to go back to the car. This is not part of my plan but this is my wife, so obviously I’m getting her back to the car. We turn around, and are on our way back. Behind me, I hear the bloke on the bench shout, “How are you doing, Jo Jo?” and she grabs at my hand to pull me forward with her. She wants away from there in a big way.”
“That sounds a bit weird to me.”
“A bit? Well, we’re in the car and Laura goes all strange on me. I ask her who the man was and why he seems to know her, but she says he doesn’t, that it’s mistaken identity and that we should go home.”
“Did you go home then?”
“Did I fuck. I had the car keys in my hand and nobody was going anywhere. I was back in the gardens and down that main path. She was calling after me, making a bit of a show of herself, but I wanted a word. The gobshite was already on his way towards the bottom entrance but I caught up with him.
“I was powered up, and he knew it. Out of breath, I was. “How is it that you know my wife?” I asked him.
“He laughed and said there was no way Jo Jo was my wife. I said she was my wife and her name was Laura. He went a bit coy, but I insisted, and he reckoned that Laura, my Laura, was Jo Jo, a prostitute in the Chesterfield area who hustled blokes. He told me he had spent some time with her and she had tried to rob him but he had been wise to her and had stopped her.”
Jamie came alive. “Fucking hell! How did you react to that?”
“I asked him when he had known Jo Jo. He told me it was about three years ago, but she hadn’t changed much. I knew that was impossible, since Laura and I had been together all that time and she wouldn’t have had the time to go to Chesterfield. And as a prostitute? Well.”
“Ridiculous. Did he say anything else?
“He asked me if I knew Lulu, Jo Jo’s partner in crime. Obviously I didn’t, as who the fuck was she? Laura has no friend by that name. He reckoned that the Jo Jo and Lulu he knew were well known in that town and not for good reasons. The idiot had become irrelevant.
