by Woods, Karen
“What the hell are you doing here Martin?”
He was in an instant panic and shoved his foot inside the door before she had time to close it. His fingers gripped onto the edge of the door for dear life and he was pleading with her. “Please Grace; just give me five minutes to talk to you. You don’t answer my calls, this was my only option.”
Grace was livid and yanked his hands from the door. “Correct Martin, I wouldn’t piss on you if you were on fire. Anything that needed to be said has already been said, so, piss off from my door, before I shove my foot right up your arse,” she leant in towards his face and they were touching noses. “Who do you think you are coming around here anyway?”
Martin knew she meant business, he could see the anger in her eyes. The tip of her ears were blood red and he knew he’d pushed her buttons. Pleading with her he made one last attempt to seek her forgiveness. “Just give me ten minutes and I’ll never come near you again, I promise you. Look at me Grace, I’m a wreck.”
She ran her eyes over him quickly, he was right; he was all skin and bones. This man looked ill. Pulling the door open she started to walk inside, she shouted back at him over her shoulder. “Ten minutes you’ve got, and that’s it. And then, I want your sorry arse out of here. Do you hear me? Hurry up then, I’ve got things to do. Gone are the days when I sit about waiting for you.” Grace was fuming, her eyes held an evil look inside them. She wasn’t putting up with anymore of his bullshit, not now, not ever.
“Can I have a drink of water?” Martin asked in a low voice.
Grace’s cheeks creased at the sides. How dare he think he was welcome at her home? “Can you fuck, you idiot. Say what you have to say, and be on your way. This is not a friendly chat, fuck me, you’ll be asking for biscuits next,” she said in a sarcastic voice. “Are you forgetting what you did to me Martin? I can’t even look at you, you knock me sick.” He hung his head low, he was ashamed. Sat cracking his knuckles he sucked hard on his bottom lip. Grace sat facing him rolling her eyes; her feet were tapping with speed on the floor. “Well, come on then speak. What? Has the cat got your tongue?” There was no way she was giving this guy an easy ride, she was the one in charge now and it was her way or the highway.
Martin coughed to clear his throat. “It just sort of happened Grace. I was foolish. I’ve made the biggest mistake of my life. It’s you I love, always have and I always will.”
Grace chuckled and held her head back; she’d heard it all before. Gripping the arm of the chair her bony knuckles stuck out, she was ready for him now. He was getting a piece of her mind. “Stop talking through your arse Martin. You slept with that woman, and the only mistake you made was getting caught.”
Martin tried to defend himself. He stood up and bent on his knees in front of her. “I love you Grace, please believe me. We can work this out. I’ll do anything, please just give me a chance?”
Grace bolted up from her seat and rammed her finger down into his face. “What do you think this is a game of fucking Monopoly? Look at you; you’re pathetic, get up off your knees. Things have changed now; it’s too late to go back. I’m not the person I was. I’ve changed.”
Martin had a burst of life; he thought he could see her giving into his seductive charms. “It’s never too late love, honest, hand on my heart, I’ll make you the happiest woman on this earth.”
Grace stood looking at him as he scrambled to his feet. She held a cunning look in her eyes. Her nostrils flared slightly. This was it, she was ready to put her cards on the table and by the look on her face, she was going to enjoy every minute of it. “I’ve moved on Martin. I’ve met somebody else.”
His jaw swung low, he was gobsmacked. He studied her in more detail, she was lying for sure. “Come on Grace, you’re just trying to hurt me now, I know you love me really.”
His tone was cocky and for a split second she could see in his eyes that he thought no other man would ever look at her twice. She licked her top teeth and sat back down, she was calm for a change and her manner was confident. “I used to love you Martin. But, like I said, I’ve met somebody else. You had your shot at the title and lost it. Remember what they say, abuse it and lose it, and that’s exactly what you’ve done, you’ve lost it.”
Consumed by panic, he was rubbing at his arms frantically, then at his neck. Martin was gagging for breath as if someone had squeezed on his windpipe. Grace ran in the kitchen and got him a drink of water, she hated the bastard yes, but there was no way she wanted him dying in her house. Running back to his side she passed him the cold glass of water. “Here, get a drink of this.” Martin took it from her with shaking hands, gulping a mouthful, he nearly choked. Grace banged her flat palm on the middle part of his back and lifted his head up. “Just sip it slowly will you?”
Martin sat on the floor and brought his knees up to his chest, he was rocking to and fro slowly. “Grace, please don’t do this to me. Just tell me the truth. If you’ve met somebody else, then I may as well be dead. I can’t imagine my life without you in it.”
Grace snarled at him and shot him a look. “You should have thought about that, before you jumped into bed with your fancy piece. What was it? Was I not good enough for you anymore? Did you think you’d trade me in for a newer model?”
Martin couldn’t answer her, she was right though, he’d let her down big time. The two of them looked like strangers towards each other; neither of them could maintain eye contact. Grace was uncomfortable with her ex-husband being sat in her front room with her, she was on edge. She knew she’d spent years married to him, but she felt like she didn’t know him anymore, he made her skin crawl. Blowing her breath she stood up and reached for her fags from the small table at the side of her. Popping one into her mouth she looked at him as if he was a dollop of dog muck on the bottom of her shoe. “Right, time’s up. Some of us have a life to lead, and I’m thankful to say,” she paused and made sure he was looking at her, “that it doesn’t include you anymore. Good riddance to bad rubbish I say.”
Martin wasn’t giving up that easy, now he upped his game and his true colours were revealed. He always behaved like a smacked arse when he couldn’t get his own way. “This house is still mine too, are you forgetting that? Do you think I’m just going to walk away and let you and your knock-off live in my house because,” he gripped her cheeks in his hands and squeezed them tightly together so her lips touched at each side. “It’s not happening. I’m going nowhere. Like I said, it’s my house too.”
Grace pulled away from him and swung her hand back. Fists clenched she pummelled them into his body. “Well, think again you dirty no good bastard. I’ll burn this place down before you step one foot inside it. You gave up the rights to anything we had when you starting seeing that dirty whore Monica.”
Martin dug deep into his pocket and pulled out his lighter. Passing it to her he smirked. “There you go then, burn it down. See if I care.” He’d called her bluff for sure; her eyes were dancing with madness. Sprinting to the phone she rang the police. Surely they would remove him from the property. Martin plonked down on the sofa and pulled his shoes off. He was watching her from the corner of his eye; he knew he was well within his rights; he’d already sought legal advice. Grace was talking to the emergency services, she wasn’t happy at what they were telling her because she was arguing with them. Martin kicked his feet up onto the sofa and looped his arms behind his head. He knew the law better than anyone and lay down with a smug grin on his face.
Grace marched back to his side, she was hysterical as she launched his brown shoes at his head. “What the hell do you think you’re playing at? Get your shoes back on and fuck off out of here. Just leave me alone.”
Martin remained calm and reached for the remote control flicking the TV on. He was winding her up. “I’m going nowhere, Grace. Like I said this is my home too, and I’m staying put. We’ll just have to share the house until it’s sold.” His words circled around in her mind. She’d never once thought about selling the famil
y home, this was where she’d been for as long as she could remember, selling the house was a million miles away from her thoughts.
Grace sat down, she was panicking yes, but to Martin she looked as cool as a cucumber. “Oh, so is that how you want to play it now is it?”
Martin kept his eyes on the TV and nodded his head slowly. “I’m going nowhere Grace. I’d have to be dead to leave this house.”
Grace couldn’t hold her tongue and she let rip, he’d broken her temper again. “You’ll be dead if you stay here Martin, trust me you won’t last a week.” Her words just bounced off him. He remained calm, and he was nothing like the devastated man she’d let into her property earlier. He was a conniving old bastard and she was gutted she’d let him pull the wool over her eyes yet again. “Once bitten twice shy,” she whispered under her breath as she hissed at him.
The front door was still open and Winnie was shouting as she walked into the front room. “I can’t stop bleeding singing me, Grace,” she shouted in the hallway. “You have a lot to answer for,” before she could finish her sentence, she was stood in the front room gawping at Martin. Her eyes shot to Grace for answers. Martin casually got himself up from his seat and left the room, he smirked at Winnie as he left. He was Lord of his manor again or so he thought. “I’m just going for a lie down sweetheart,” he sniggered. “Keep the noise down will you?”
Grace was frozen; she was looking for a missile to launch at him. Winnie was by her side and shaking at her arm. “What the fuck is he doing back here? Don’t tell me you’ve had him back? I mean, what the hell are you thinking? Don’t you remember what he’s put you through?”
Grace sank to the ground and rested her head on her knees. Winnie was hovering over her pressing for answers. “You don’t need that slime- ball back in your life Grace. Kick his arse back to the gutter where he belongs.”
Grace lifted her head up slowly. “There is nothing I can do about it love, it’s his home too. I’ve phoned the police and they told me straight that he’s the home owner too, just like I am. He can stay here just like me.”
Winnie yanked her cardigan together tightly. “Well, the dirty no good bastard. Who does he think he is, walking back in here after what he’s done?”
Grace gritted her teeth together tightly and dragged her fingers through her hair. The gloves were off, it was war. “Tell me about it Winnie, but my hands are tied, what else can I do?”
Winnie sat down next to her and thought for a few minutes. Her voice was low and she kept a close eye on the door making sure Martin wasn’t coming back inside the room. “We can have him done in. Mad Mick from Monsall will do it for a few hundred quid. I can have a word with him if you want. He’s done it before, but don’t breathe a word about it because, he’ll wring my neck if he knows I’ve been chatting about his business.” Grace looked at her and didn’t know if she was serious or not. Winnie was staring at her waiting eagerly for an answer; at that moment she wanted Martin removed from the face of the earth. Her eyes were menacing, she definitely wanted Martin in a body bag.
CHAPTER TEN
Harry gazed at his surroundings, he was bored. Kerry his sister was sat reading her weekly Take a Break magazine and she seemed to be on another planet as the interest of the stories took over her mind. Jordan was sprawled flat out on the sofa watching the TV. He was lay like this so Harry couldn’t even sit at the bottom of it. This was his castle and he wasn’t willing to share it with anyone, not even Harry. Kerry had told Jordan that it was only a few weeks that her brother was staying with them, but three months later he was still there and he’d given them no signs that he was intending to leave.
Harry stood to his feet and stretched his arms over his head, yawning. “I’m going to go round to Amanda’s to sort a few things out.”
Kerry lifted her head up. She’d heard him talking a lot lately about this woman and delved deeper. “So, has this Amanda got girlfriend potential then or what?”
Jordan was listening too; he sat up and folded a cushion under his head. Harry was blushing. “You must be joking, it’s the girl I met at the therapy classes I go to. She’s more fucked up than me, and that’s saying something.”
Jordan screwed his face up and sat tall in his seat. He couldn’t hold his tongue any longer. “Well you better sort something out pretty soon because we want our house back to ourselves,” he nodded his head at Kerry. “Don’t we love?”
Kerry snarled at him, he was so ruthless and never thought about hurting anyone else’s feelings. “Harry can stay here as long as he wants Jordan, so stop making him feel uncomfortable. He’ll leave when he’s good and ready, won’t you Harry?”
Jordan rolled over on the sofa and gritted his teeth together punching his fist into the pillow. “He’s taking liberties now. Fuck me, he needs to sort his napper out and get home to his own gaff. We’ve babysat him long enough.”
Kerry was outraged; she flung the magazine at her partner’s head. “Shut the fuck up you inconsiderate prick.” World War Three was ready to start. Their eyes were locked and they were gunning for each other. Harry grabbed his coat from the side of the table and headed to the door. When these two were at loggerheads there was no stopping them, they could go on for hours. Turning his head back over his shoulder he spoke to them both. “Jordan, you’re right. I’ll go back home at the end of the month.” Jordan raised his hands over his head and cupped them together celebrating and cheering, Kerry was snapping at him. Harry was gone.
Strolling to his car Harry shook his head. He knew he’d outstayed his welcome at his sister’s house, but if the truth was known, he hated the thought of ever returning home to his empty house, a house full of bad memories. Turning the key in the ignition the engine roared. Reaching over he turned the dial for the radio, a song from his youth started playing. Dexy’s Midnight Runners always got his feet tapping. Nodding his head along to the beat he pulled out of the car park.
Amanda sat in her pyjamas. What did she have to get ready for anyway? It was only Harry coming around to visit her not the Queen of England. As she did every night without fail she sat wearing Paul’s old t-shirt. A grey patterned one with stains still on the front of it. She held the collar up to her nose and inhaled the last bit of body scent she could smell from her deceased partner. Every night since Paul had been gone she always made sure she wore it. It was her ritual and she would never change it, not for anyone. Yeah, it was nutty, she knew that, but this was how she coped. Pyjama bottoms tucked in her pink fluffy socks she got up to answer the door.
Harry smiled when he saw her; she was such a pretty girl but never made the most of herself. Her hair was tied back in a scraggy ponytail and he could see signs of tomato ketchup on the sides of her mouth. He never mentioned it though, he kept it to himself, he knew without a shadow of doubt she would have gone on the defensive with him for even mentioning it, thinking he was making a fool out of her. Harry kept schtum, even though he couldn’t take his eyes from the red sauce. Walking into the front room the smell from the lavender candles tickled his nose. Sweet calming fragrances circled the air. Six chunky candles were set up along the cabinet situated on the back wall. Paul’s photograph was in the middle of them. The lights were low in the house and it all seemed nice and cosy. “Make us a drink then,” Harry chuckled as he watched Amanda plonk back down on the sofa.
She looked blank, and then smiled softly. “See what I mean, I’m not used to having any guests round here. I’m not very sociable am I?” Amanda rolled off the sofa and headed into the kitchen. He was checking her bum-cheeks out as she left. Harry peeled his coat off and looked about the room. The photograph of Amanda’s dead partner seemed to be calling him. Checking she was still in the kitchen he crept to the back of the room towards the shrine. Harry picked the wooden frame up and looked at the man’s face; he was studying it for a few seconds when he heard Amanda’s shrieking tones behind him. He nearly jumped out of his skin. “Get your hands off that. Put it down now.” Harry quickly place
d the photograph back in its original position. Amanda was like a bull in a china shop and barged passed him pushing him to the side. “Why, you feel the need to disturb my stuff is beyond me. Just sit down and don’t touch anything else.” Harry looked like a naughty schoolboy. He sat down slowly and avoided any eye contact with her; he could hear her stressed breathing at the side of him.
After a moment, Amanda reached over to get her drink from the table, she was calming down. “Sorry if I overreacted, it’s just,” she sucked on her bottom lip and her eyes welled up. “He was my life, and I don’t want anyone intruding on what we had together.”
Harry was confused. “Fuck me, I was only looking at it. I wasn’t going rob it or anything. You need to take a chill pill and relax. I swear to you if you carry on like this you’re going to give yourself a bleeding heart attack.”
“I know what I should do, but I can’t do it yet. Maybe in time I will, but for now just keep your fingers off my private stuff.”
Harry howled laughing and spoke in a sarcastic voice. He turned his head over to Paul’s shrine and started to press his two palms together as if he was praying. “Oh master Paul; please forgive me for touching your sacred photo. Please forgive me, oh holy one.” Amanda was in shock, he was really taking the piss out of her. He was holding nothing back and his shoulders were shaking as he continued. “Amanda, will always worship you Paul, she’ll never look at another man so don’t you worry about that, she will always be yours,” his voice had changed and he was speaking as if it was a spirit from another world.
