by Liz Lawler
Vivien looked surprised.
‘He could smell it when he came home the other night and asked me to get some.’
Vivien was already reaching into her bag, a bigger bag than her Gucci one but just as smart looking.
‘Oh, darling, you can have it. There’s hardly any left, but I was getting bored with it. Truly, my dear, I’m embarrassed to even get it out. I’m sure Mark got it second-hand at one of the car boot sales or jumble sales that pop up like clockwork in our village.’
Tess took the tiny bottle handed to her and saw Vivien wasn’t exaggerating. There was possibly a millimetre or two left of the yellow perfume. The sage green label was mostly peeled away along with the name.
‘I washed it I’m afraid. I’m very particular about germs. I think it was called Gardenia or maybe it was Amelia. But if you take it to a perfume shop I’m sure they’ll know.’
‘Thank you,’ Tess said, sounding a bit emotional.
Vivien eyed her with concern. ‘Whatever for? I’ve just given you an empty bottle of perfume, hardly worth a thank you.’
Tess smiled. ‘Well, I am thankful.’
Vivien picked up her phone as it beeped. ‘That’s him,’ she said, standing and picking up her bag, and a few moments later she was gone without even a goodbye.
Chapter Forty-Three
A pregnancy test sat on the side of the sink. Vivien had returned after only being gone ten minutes with what she’d called ‘a second little gift’. Tess had stared inside the paper bag and let out a soft gasp. Vivien hadn’t said anything further; she’d just looked Tess in the eye and then given a wave goodbye. Tess used it almost straight away as she needed to pee anyway, and was still staring at it more than an hour later.
Something had shifted in her since finding out, something she thought dead inside. She could feel it carefully unfurling like the tiniest of leaves of a new shoot just germinated. She had no idea how to rationalise what she was feeling, but a wondrous light was drawing her back to something she’d thought gone. Her second little gift had brought back hope. She was holding the most precious of gifts inside of her right now. Her heart raced at the thought. She wasn’t even meant to be here, yet fate had given her a second chance and a rush of intense love unfolded inside her for this tiny being.
The nausea had not been down to nerves. She was most definitely pregnant. Remembering having the pills flicked at her face had thrown her earlier. The same way it had thrown her when he waved her pill pack in her face that day. Her brain had not been quick enough to unscramble why she still had them, as the decision she made over a month ago was gone clean from her head. She’d stopped taking the pill while happy and just forgot to throw the rest of the prescription away. They’d had unprotected sex more than twice. While waiting for the result she’d been tracing back to the last time she opened the bathroom cabinet to take out a tampon. She hadn’t in a while because she hadn’t needed to because her period hadn’t happened. She was late and not just by a few days. She was nearly three weeks late which meant she could be as little as three or as much as seven weeks pregnant.
In that instant she knew everything had changed in the way that she thought about her life. She would stop thinking her childhood had dealt her a terrible blow and look at it with more open and honest eyes. There were not enough people out there in the world who wanted to adopt a child, and not enough foster parents either. Some got left behind and she had been just one of them. And there were bad people everywhere – what happened in the children’s home could also have happened if her parents had stayed alive because plenty of strangers came to their home for their special medicines. She’d suffered through some hardships, but she’d survived. The same as she would survive this failed marriage.
She could not stay in this house more than another day. She had to carve out a new life where she would be able to live safely. The safety of her child was all that now mattered and raised her awareness of the danger she was in. Another slap, or fall to the floor could end its life instantly. She needed to plan for her departure. The money she’d managed to find from his drawers together with what he’d given her was less than three hundred pounds, but it would be enough for her to get away. Her seven-day train ticket had one last day of travel that she could use if she left tomorrow. She would go to Sam and ask for his help. He worked late shifts on Sundays so he would be there. She was not too proud to ask, either. She was in a desperate situation and would ask for any help she could get. She just had to get through one more night. Until then she would keep busy. She would cook something for his dinner. She would ensure the house was perfect. She would dress and play the part of a dutiful wife one more time and then walk away and not look back. Her fear had not gone, but she could do it. She would walk away from it and leave this life behind. Train in some other career if need be.
What he’d said or what he’d done no longer mattered. She no longer felt empty inside. She was filled to the brim with love and hope and eagerness to start a new life. What he’d taken away had been given back with this precious gift. Her body was no longer without its soul.
Almost eight o’clock and he was still not home. Tess was beginning to wonder if she’d spend her last night in this house alone. She’d taken the small joint of beef out of the oven hours ago, and the vegetables were still waiting to be cooked. Perhaps he was eating out, but had chosen not to let her know about it.
Tess cast her eyes around the bedroom. It didn’t look any different to how it was normally. Even if he were to open her wardrobe or look in her drawers they wouldn’t look rifled through. She’d packed only some of her old things, some jeans, jumpers and T-shirts, some underwear and a few spare toiletries. Her rucksack and one wheelie suitcase were now hidden in black bin bags inside one of the empty bins by the side of the garage. In the side pocket of the rucksack she’d already put her money and the still-valid train ticket.
The only other item she intended to take was the black book, but she would carry that on her. She was not leaving it behind to get hidden again. She was unsure of what she’d do with it in the long run, but that didn’t matter right now. Having it with her seemed to matter, though, as it felt safer somehow than leaving it in this house. She sat down on the bed and opened it. There were only a few pages left unread. She’d read the last page first in case she was interrupted and didn’t get time to read it all.
Mrs Bowden hasn’t turned up for work today. Friday is her busiest day, her laundry day as she calls it, as she likes to change the beds. I’m suspicious of her not being here, but it will perhaps make leaving easier. If he should ring, she will not be here to answer the phone and tell him I’m not there. I have a feeling she won’t be surprised to find me gone. This is the first time she has not come to the house on a Friday so I must take this as a warning and be quick.
He will not miss me, I’m sure, or his child who I love with all my heart. I am sure when I am gone from here he will strike our existence from his memory. He’ll probably tell his friends I was unfaithful as the reason for leaving, even though that’s not true. If it helps his pride I don’t care. I only care to be gone.
Tess read the last words and then hugged the book to her chest as if to comfort the woman. She wanted to believe it happened and that this woman was now safe somewhere. But she couldn’t. The woman was dead. She felt it in her bones. She and her child were dead and buried somewhere.
She sighed with emotion and put the book down, then instantly stiffened. The hair rose on the back of her neck and along her arms as she sensed a presence. Then galvanised, she threw the book under the bed. She could hear footsteps on the stairs.
She found the courage to sit still as he walked gracefully towards her. His dark hair looked ruffled and he gave a bleak smile.
‘We may have to move back to London if I’m to get out of this situation. It’s a mess, to be honest with you.’
She wanted to say it was a mess since coming to this house to live. Both of their lives had changed since
then. In his case, though, that may not be true – he may have always been this way.
He took off his jacket and hung it over the bottom of the bed. Then he slowly sat down beside her.
‘Did you get it?’ he quietly asked.
Her throat closed and she couldn’t speak, unable to comprehend how he was asking this after what he’d just told her. The scent mattered more to him than even his career. It was bewildering to imagine what he was hoping to gain. She put her hand in her skirt pocket and fetched out the perfume to hand him.
‘It’s all she had.’
He let the small bottle rest in the palm of his hand, just staring at it, before carefully untwisting the delicate stopper and raising it almost reverently to his nose.
‘It’s perfect,’ he whispered.
He turned to smile at her and Tess had to close her eyes. She couldn’t watch this madness.
Leaving her on the bed he went and turned off the main light before coming back to her and raising her legs off the floor to get her to lie down. He sat beside her as he dabbed the scent behind her ears and then gently down her throat. He then put the stopper back on the bottle and Tess held her breath as he lay beside her and tried not to stiffen as he held her close with his nose pressed in the crook of her neck. He didn’t say a word but just held her.
They lay like this all night, him wearing all his clothes and she wearing hers. He had not touched her in any other manner except to hold her and breathe her in. She wondered if he had the memory of his first wife in his arms and was repelled yet saddened by the thought of him having to take comfort in this way.
She would give him this night, wear this scent so that he could bring his first wife back, and then tomorrow Tess would be gone, and she would never have to lie in this bed again.
Chapter Forty-Four
As daylight showed through a gap in the curtains Tess carefully peeled herself out of his arms and climbed off the bed. She covered him with a blanket before he noticed the absence of her warmth, then quietly knelt down to retrieve the book from under the bed. She put the book in her jacket pocket on her way through the hallway, and in the downstairs bathroom she quickly washed the scent of the perfume off her skin and out of her hair. She didn’t want to wear its fragrance today and have it transfer onto her clothes. She knew its scent by heart and didn’t want to be reminded of it again.
Taking the clean underwear, trousers and T-shirt that she’d put ready in the laundry basket yesterday, she hurriedly dressed. She’d like to have had her phone before she left but that wasn’t going to happen. If she was lucky he would stay sleeping until she was gone. If he woke she would be delayed until he either went out or got occupied doing something. At least being washed and dressed she’d be ready to take off when the opportunity came.
The clocks chimed seven o’clock as she quietly poured herself some milk. Putting the empty glass silently down on the counter she stepped out into the hallway to get her jacket off the chair, feeling the weight of the book in one of the pockets. She was a hair’s breadth away from putting it on when she heard a creak of wood, so she casually carried on the action and put the jacket away in the cloakroom cupboard as if she were tidying.
She feigned surprise at seeing him and gave a tentative smile. He’d not changed out of his clothing from yesterday and looked strangely vulnerable not dressed as his normal immaculate self.
She headed into the kitchen and set about making his breakfast, moving a pot of potatoes and carrots off the stove, part of last night’s dinner which never got cooked or eaten. Most of it would be binned, especially the joint of beef sat out all night. In fact, all of it, she decided. She would not be there later to salvage it or add fresh ingredients to revive it. In a dish she cracked two eggs. She would make scrambled eggs as it was quick and easy. She popped two slices of bread in the toaster and switched on the kettle to make green tea, which sometimes he preferred for his first drink.
He was standing silently behind her and she kept deliberately busy, feeling his eyes on the back of her head. Don’t say anything, don’t start anything, just stay quiet until I’m gone, she prayed inwardly, carrying on with what she was doing, hands trembling as she completed each task of buttering toast and cutting it into triangles to serve with the soft scrambled egg. She poured boiling water into a small teapot and her hand shook, conscious that this was the last meal she would ever prepare for him.
She let out a tense breath when he walked out of the kitchen and into the hallway. The light squeak of the cloakroom door opening and the clacking sound of golf clubs reassured her he was putting them away and not opening it to search her jacket. He would eat his breakfast and then probably go and shower. It would not be long now until she never had to see him again.
Nausea suddenly curled her stomach over, and in a panic she ran from the room.
He called out to her as she sped past him to the bathroom, nearly knocking into the golf clubs which he’d not put away. She managed to get out two words that would reassure him she just needed the loo. ‘Sorry. Desperate.’
In the bathroom she flushed the toilet as she heaved vomit into the bowl to cover the sounds of her retching. If he suspected she was pregnant he’d hover over her all day. He’d guard her from now until the baby was born, while planning to systematically cut her off from the outside world. He’d never leave her side again.
A moment later she went rigid with shock as the bathroom door banged a staccato outburst of short sharp knocks.
‘Can you come out of there, please? I’d like you to come out of there right now!’
She stayed rigid and silent. The ‘please’ contrasted sharply with the demands of his banging. She wasn’t being asked. She was being commanded. She yelped in alarm as a kick to the door shook it. It was followed by another thundering round of hammering as if he were using the side of his fist. The noise was so deafening she shot back fast to the other side of the room. And then she heard him.
‘You’d better be listening to me, Tess, because I’m only going to say this once. I’m giving you one last chance to open this door and come out and explain.’
Tess stared at the closed door, petrified. He was enraged. Coming through the quietness in his voice she could hear the fury more powerfully than any loud roar. The quality of this quietness was new and for that reason it felt deadly. Something had switched off his control. She pressed her hand over her mouth to silence her whimper. Dear God he knew! He knew! He’d found the book in her jacket, or maybe the suitcase! Either way she was doomed.
He rattled the door handle violently and kicked the wood until it shook again, but the door didn’t give way. Then he spoke again.
‘When I return from dealing with this interfering little shit, I’ll be back to deal with you. You’re a whore, Tess, just like she was.’ Something in her brain clicked with those words. Something else was wrong.
Tess listened to his footsteps marching away and then a minute later heard the car start. She unlocked the bathroom door and peered out before taking hesitant steps into the hallway. She saw it straight away. There on the floor, like a white chess piece on a black square, was a postcard. She picked it up and read the message.
Daniel, you better come meet me so we can discuss how you treat your wife! Bring your phone so I can text you the address!
She sank to her knees and then down onto her bottom, having no strength to stand. Tears rivered her face as she shuddered with fear. Weeks of pent-up emotion juddered hard out of her shaking frame. She had forgotten about the postcard messenger. In all of yesterday, in all of what she’d learned, she had forgotten about the warning to come. Daniel would hate being sent for with this stark order. And now she didn’t know what to do. Run? Or stay? She was trapped by fear.
Daniel could hurt this person badly after getting that message. There was no knowing what he might do in his anger. And then he would come back and hurt her more. If it was made known to him his wife knew prior to him getting this message that a stranger
was going to contact him, he could accuse her of laying a trap. He could go to the police and have her arrested. She should have gone yesterday and not waited another day. She was stuck in limbo now, facing the unknown, fearing at every passing minute his coming home.
Chapter Forty-Five
Tess’s heart had been thumping all day. She would give herself a heart attack if she didn’t calm down. It was four o’clock and he’d still not returned. The only phone call she had all day was from the removal company to say they were on the way. She’d let them carry the table and bench to the garden and plonk the rest of the furniture in the hallway as she wanted them gone quickly in case he came back.
She had prepared what she’d say to him hours ago. She’d deny knowledge of the postcard, convince him that she had been equally as surprised at seeing it. Suggest that perhaps he should go to the police to report it. But he wasn’t back for her to say any of that and she was growing more frantic in this silence. If only she could speak to Sara and let it all out she’d feel better.
She stopped pacing as she saw the door to his study ajar. It had been like it all day and only now had it registered with her that the door was open. She could have been in there all of this time and searched it for her phone.
Not wasting another second she went into the room and straight to his desk to check the drawers, but it wasn’t in any of them. Nor was it on the shelves of his sideboard, which held nothing but piles of medical papers and office stationery. The bookshelf might be more promising. He might have perched it on top of one of the volumes of books on surgery and medicine or tucked it in between the red and blue folders. Then she noticed one that stood out because it was beige and more worn than the others, the card softened as if from much handling.
