by Liz Lawler
‘Jesus,’ she whispered under her breath. It was actually the patient from yesterday who died. Not just a patient. She was nervous of his mood, not knowing what to say or do. Where had he been yesterday when he hadn’t turned up? What could possibly have been more important to keep him away?
‘I need to phone my solicitor. I need to phone some people. This is a fucking nightmare!’
She kept to one side of the room, out of his way, as he paced and ranted and raged, paused to pour himself another drink and then paced more, drank more, stopping once to punch the door. It was like looking at a caged wild animal raging to be free. By eight o’clock he was passed out on the sofa and she covered him with a throw so that he stayed asleep. She hurried as she heard the phone ringing in the hallway, not wanting the sound to disturb him.
‘Hello?’
‘Tess. It’s Ed. How is he?’
Tess sighed hard. ‘He’s sleeping, Ed.’
‘Did he tell you what happened?’
She glanced through the door to the drawing room to ensure he was still sleeping. ‘Some. A patient died, and he’s being blamed.’
It was Ed’s turn to sigh. ‘He is, Tess. The surgery was scheduled for yesterday. The team were ready and waiting but regrettably Daniel didn’t turn up and nor did he check on the patient during the course of yesterday, despite a dozen calls from his registrar and the ward asking him to come in. Unfortunately, I couldn’t step in and do it. I had too many serious cases of my own to deal with. I can’t tell you how much of a shock this has been to everyone. To not turn up like that and give no explanation. No warning to at least have given an opportunity to find someone else. The man was forty-seven, for pity’s sake. I just don’t understand it. How he could have been so reckless. We were only discussing the procedure the other night. He’s going to need good representation. There’ll be an internal enquiry and we can only hope they’ll be fair.’
She gave a small gasp. ‘Are you saying—’
‘I’m saying he needs someone more than good!’ He paused to let that register. ‘And you? Are you OK? I feel so bad about this, Tess. We had such a lovely afternoon at yours on Sunday and then this happens…’ He hesitated as if about to say something further. ‘Tess, if there’s anything I can do, please don’t hesitate to call.’
‘That’s very kind of you, Ed.’
‘Nonsense, you’re a very lovely person, and I fear this is going to be a tough time.’
She smiled at his kindness. ‘Thank you. I will call if I need you.’
She replaced the receiver and was filled with a strange kind of relief that she had someone like Ed to call if her husband’s behaviour became unmanageable. She felt sure the professor could calm him down.
‘Speaking to your lover?’
She spun round to find him standing right behind her, the second time in a day. His shirt was hanging out of his trousers, his tie askew. His face was red from alcohol and sleep, and his mouth curled in a sneer.
‘Has he now taken to calling you in our home?’ he asked in a voice leaden with quiet menace.
‘What are you talking about? That was Ed on the phone. He was calling to see how you are,’ she answered firmly, holding his gaze. ‘He was concerned for you!’ She would not let him see her cower. Nor let him see her afraid. ‘He cares about you!’
His sneer stretched wider. He took a step back from her and then proceeded to give a slow hard clap.
‘Stop it! Just stop it. The man wants to help you! Though God only knows why!’
Her sudden retaliation seemed to shock him. He took another step back. Tess trembled with relief. She’d stood up to him and he’d backed off! She should have done it before, she—
He raised his hand and curled his forefinger to beckon her. She stood her ground and he let out a puff of air, a sound of resignation. ‘Don’t make me come over there, Tess,’ he said, trapping her with his eyes.
Her body began to shake, hard. He must be able to see how badly her legs were trembling. Her head, her jaw, and her shoulders were juddering, her mouth tremoring, fingertips involuntarily twitching. Her feet the only part of her solid on the ground, because she was struck with fear and couldn’t move them, the half-dozen paces between them an impossible quest.
He moved slowly towards her, and then with lightning speed his hand shot out and grasped strongly around the nape of her neck, and he half dragged, half pulled her across the floor. Her feet crisscrossing at the fast pace, the soles of her shoes slipping, until she tripped out of one of them and went down in a tangle of limbs, banging knees, forearms and chin. He yanked her swiftly back to her feet, gripping a handful of hair to keep her upright.
‘Oops-a-daisy,’ he said lightly, as if she were a fallen child.
She squealed and hit out at his wrists and hands trying to get free, then her legs went from under her a second time as he hoisted her up onto his shoulder, carried her to the drawing room, and threw her face down over the back of the sofa. She seesawed, feet lifted off the ground and hands grappling in mid-air. She had to roll forward to get over it. Roll forward to get away. She screamed as he gripped her hips to keep her from escaping and then screamed louder as he pressed behind her.
‘Please no please no please no!’ she squealed to make him stop. She felt air against her skin as her trousers and pants were dragged down. ‘I’m begging you, I’m begging you!’ she pleaded. But instead he pressed his hand against the back of her head, pushing it down and forward until her face squashed in against cushions and her voice muffled. Her cries and desperate pleas were hardly heard as he forced himself on her.
Chapter Forty-Two
When Tess woke up on Saturday morning she wished the day was already over. How was she meant to carry on? She felt like a tiny mouse living with a very large cat – one wrong move and it would pounce on her. He must not care anymore that she knew his behaviour was not rational. He must think her too insignificant for it to matter that he raped her. He was confident she would never tell, just as he was confident she would take the blame for something she hadn’t done. She was putty in his hands as far as he was concerned. She crept downstairs hoping he was still asleep.
He surprised her by being up and dressed in golfing gear, never imagining he’d want to play today.
‘Ed says he’s rusty and hasn’t played in a while. I’ll bet he’s as adept as he is at wielding a scalpel…’ He paused as he stared at her appraisingly. ‘And as adept as he is at cosy little chats. I bet he didn’t mention he was going to ring me this morning to go for a game? I reckon he’s trying to get close to you,’ he said in a decisive tone. ‘Oh yes, that’s what this is all about.’
Her cheeks filled with colour at the implication.
‘N-nonsense,’ she stuttered. ‘He’s old enough to be my father. It’s you he’s interested in!’
He threw her an insincere smile, slowly shaking his head at her.
‘He spent five minutes discussing you before getting to the point of his call, wanting to know how you are. The thing is, Tess? Am I going to have to come down hard on you?’
She stared at him in disbelief with her fists bunching and nails clawing into her palms. She wanted to scream at him. As opposed to what? she wanted to yell. What could be harder than being raped and having your life destroyed? Tears blurred her eyes, mucous trickled from her nose and she wiped her face hard with her pyjama sleeve. Special pyjamas from The White Company, hoping to show him she didn’t just shop for clothes in places like Asda. She’d put them on for the first time last night after climbing the stairs to bed. Unable to bear having any of her skin exposed to him, she’d taken them out of the bag still new, and taken refuge in the small bedroom again. She would not let him see her cry.
He stared at her critically as if she were a strange object. He tutted as if disappointed.
‘Are you going to end up being like her? Sneaking behind my back to see other men?’
Her insides kicked with fear. He was speaking about his first w
ife. Speaking about her as if it no longer mattered to keep her a secret. His second wife could hear what he had to say.
‘She wore this scent,’ he murmured, his gaze shifting away from her, his tone soft. ‘I can still smell it. I smell it whenever I walk in that room.’
Tess stared at him with anguish. Hating him and yet feeling sorry for him as she heard a longing in his voice. She didn’t know the circumstances of his dead wife and child. The old woman had to be wrong about how they died. Surely he couldn’t have killed his own child?
‘Daniel,’ she whimpered, ‘maybe we should leave this house. Maybe it’s not good for you here.’
He focused on her and she swallowed hard as she waited for him to say something.
The slap knocked her to her knees. She knelt there, swaying, with her eyes and mouth open, unable to breathe or speak. She willed herself to stay on her knees and not sink to the ground.
‘You are like her,’ he said slowly, in a voice that sounded dazed. His eyes weren’t seeing her, even though he appeared to be looking at her. ‘Spineless. That’s why she left me, because she was spineless.’
Tess got up off the floor and retreated into a corner and watched as he casually made himself coffee.
Then, without warning, she threw up.
Tess rushed to the bathroom and held onto the toilet seat as she vomited again, trying to be as quiet as possible. If he thought she was unwell he might not go out and leave her for the day. He might start thinking she’d go and see a doctor or even think she was…
‘Shit,’ she whispered, as she suddenly remembered what she had forgotten to do. She’d meant to call her GP last Monday and get the morning-after pill. Her stomach clenched in panic. Then she calmed down. It was too soon to have symptoms of nausea. They’d had unprotected sex twice. Last night and last Sunday. She couldn’t be having symptoms that soon. Maybe it was a stomach bug or down to nerves. She got up off the floor and turned on the shower. When had he flicked her birth pills in her face? It was over a week ago. She would think about it when he went out. In the meantime she needed to make herself look fresher so he would go out, as having him at home all day was more than she could bear.
She stripped off her pyjamas and used the liner from the small pedal bin to cover her bandaged hand to keep it dry while she stood under the water. The heat eased her aches, but not her mind. She was living with someone dangerous. A mad man. The level of his violence was escalating. She had a bruise on the underside of her left forearm that looked like an oil spillage beneath the skin. It was large and black and spread from elbow to wrist, making the other bruises and grazes look insignificant. She now had injuries to both her upper limbs.
She heard tapping on the bathroom door as she dried herself.
‘I’m leaving soon, Tess,’ he called lightly from behind the closed door.
‘OK,’ she answered brightly, hoping he hadn’t heard her being sick the second time.
He was still standing there, his footsteps not yet moving away from the door, and she wondered if he expected her to come out and give him a farewell kiss. In the bathroom mirror her face gazed back pasty and drawn, her lips bloodless and pale. The imprint of his slap was hardly visible on her cheek, just some faint lines left by his fingers. She didn’t often look at herself anymore, not wanting to see the emptiness of her eyes staring back at her from the mirror, not wanting to see what she felt inside. Her chin had a nice blue bruise from where it hit the floor. She would have to cover that.
‘I want to see that you’re all right before I go,’ he called.
‘OK. I’ll be out soon,’ she called, getting back into her pyjamas.
He was waiting in the kitchen staring into space, and she hesitated at the doorway. He turned and she saw his handsome face was haggard. Before she could move he came towards her and wrapped her in his arms, holding her close.
‘Try not to worry, my love. This whole mess will soon be sorted. We’re both in a bit of a pickle at the moment, I’m afraid.’
His mobile rang and he released her. She moved away and fought to hide her distress. He was behaving like an actor on a stage, acting this climactic moment for an audience holding their breath, hanging on and hoping all would come right for the couple in this drama. She felt giddy from just those few seconds in his company. Giddy, confused, and so very afraid.
He made ready to leave and then said something that appalled her. ‘Don’t forget to try and get that perfume off Vivien.’
A moment later she heard his footsteps in the hallway, and then the sound of the front door closing. Tess listened to the silence, desperate to know what to do.
He was unhingeing rapidly before her eyes. She was unsure of the direction he was heading. He saw her as spineless because she couldn’t stand up to him, blaming her for being like his first wife and yet desperate for Tess to wear the woman’s scent. All those perfumes he’d been buying for Tess had been driven by his need to find the scent that his first wife wore. They hadn’t been bought for Tess but for his obsession to get back what he’d lost. Or killed?
She took a deep breath, filled not just with air but another wave of nausea too. She splashed her face with cold water at the kitchen sink and leaned over the basin until it settled. It must be nerves. It couldn’t be anything else.
The doorbell rang and she instantly tensed. If it was him he would use his key, unless he had forgotten it, along with whatever he was returning for. She just prayed Ed hadn’t cancelled. The bell rang again and she hurried to answer it. Vivien was standing on the doorstep. It seemed weeks and not just two days since Tess last saw her. Thursday felt like a lifetime ago. The hours since then had engulfed her in a world of madness. She was pleased to see someone normal.
Vivien looked lovely and fresh and wore a perfume that smelt of summer flowers and fruit. Tess didn’t know if this was the perfume her husband smelt but Tess breathed her in regardless. She felt different now about Vivien; she felt safe with this capable woman.
‘My darling, you look a wreck if you don’t mind me saying. It looks like I arrived just in time.’
Suppressed emotions broke free and Tess let out a strangled laugh, along with a trickle of tears which she quickly wiped away, and which Vivien pretended not to see. Only Vivien could get away with saying something so outrageous.
She tried to look indignant as she responded in a sassy tone, ‘I was intending on having a spa day, I’ll have you know.’
Vivien looked at her critically. ‘I think a spa week might work better. Go and put a bit of slap on while I make us a cup of tea. Go on,’ she said, waving the back of her hand at Tess. ‘Shoo. I know where everything is. We can’t talk with you looking like this.’
Tess grinned a little manically then rushed away to do as she was told. She brushed her dark hair and tied it back in a ponytail, applied a light cover of make-up, dabbing more to the bruise on her chin, but stopped at spraying herself with perfume. She stripped off the pyjamas again and got dressed, choosing a light blue blouse that hid her bruises and brought some life back into her eyes.
In the short time she was away, Vivien had made herself at home. She’d washed up the few dishes, tidied the worktops, made a pot of tea and was waiting at the table with one cup already poured.
She raised her cup at Tess and complimented her. ‘Much better, darling. I can see your pretty face now. Come and sit down and I’ll pour you some tea and we can have a proper chat.’
Tess wondered how long she intended to stay.
Vivien pulled a face as if she could read Tess’s mind. ‘Don’t worry, half an hour tops. I’ve got a hair appointment at twelve. Mark dropped me and is picking me up after he’s been to Halfords to pick up a new battery. I know Daniel is out because he just told Mark on the phone he was playing a round of golf with Ed. I think Mark was intending to come and have a chat to him. So, I thought, what better time to come see how you are.’ She sipped her drink and then asked bluntly, ‘So how are things? More to the point, how are you
, because in these things it’s always the wife that has to bear the brunt of what’s going on. Last night must have been terrible for you. So tell. I’m here for you to unload on. Please don’t cry, though. I don’t do well with tears.’
Tess, incredibly, laughed again, despite having to think of last night. Twice in a short space of time this woman had made her laugh. She was like a breath of fresh air, her energy and vivaciousness contagious. ‘I’m not going to cry, Vivien. I promise. Things are a bit… fraught. I’m worried for Daniel, and I think he’s worried too.’
Vivien sighed. ‘There’s no point in worrying. It won’t change anything. It will just give you worry lines. You just need to stay strong until it’s over. And drink occasionally, because it helps,’ she said, matter-of-factly.
Tess reflected on the operation she was being blamed for, and Ed’s comments on Daniel’s behaviour underlined the seriousness of her own situation. She’d not even contacted the union rep yet. Should she be looking for someone more legal? In both cases a patient was dead. In Tess’s case, she’d deviated from accepted practice. She would need her husband’s money to appoint someone good, and probably lots of it to appoint someone more than good. ‘Do you think Daniel is going to come out of this all right?’
‘From what Mark says I think he’s going to have a battle on his hands. One he may not win, Tess. And I only tell you this to prepare you. He’s caused a bit of a stink with his colleagues, I’m afraid. Not because the patient died, but because he’s offered no explanation for not attending, which I don’t understand, as he could have just said he was sick.’
Tess nodded to show she understood. She cared not one jot about the outcome for her husband, but she was grateful to Vivien for caring, for taking the time to see if she was all right. ‘I’ll just have to be extra nice to him then,’ she said. ‘I’ll buy him the perfume you’re wearing. He seems rather taken with it.’
