Talking Trouble

by Barbara Elsborg

  All his friends, none of hers, though she liked Jock, Lewin’s brother. She’d seen less and less of the friends she’d had before she met Lewin. Not that she’d had many. That was one of the things that attracted her to him, that he enjoyed being the center of attention and had lots of mates.

  She and Lewin were going on holiday with Will and Sam in two weeks’ time to some small Greek island. Mollie wished she was looking forward to the break but she wasn’t. Apparently, there were brilliant opportunities for waterskiing, jet-skiing, scuba diving, snorkeling, fishing, kayaking, windsurfing, kitesurfing, oh and swimming. Everything Mollie didn’t want to do apart from the swimming, which she quite liked, but only in a warm pool shallow enough that she could stand up in if she panicked. For her, the word sea was synonymous with shark. She was convinced there was a great white with her name on his menu waiting for her to venture into the water. While the others wore themselves out playing water sports, she’d stay on the beach with her e-reader.

  Lewin took her hand before they walked into the pub, and Mollie squeezed his fingers. More than any of her previous boyfriends, Lewin had charmed her and she had to keep reminding herself of that. He always seemed to be aware of her, watching her, smiling at her, touching her. She wasn’t used to a guy being so attentive. She wasn’t used to anyone being so attentive.

  The others waved them over. Mick and Will were policemen like Lewin, Mick a constable, Will a detective. Samantha was a traffic warden, Jayne worked in fashion retail and Jock was a builder. He was there on his own tonight. Lewin might have been better looking, with thick sandy hair and chocolate brown eyes, compared to his brother, who had a crew cut, muddy brown eyes and the start of a beer belly, but Jock made her laugh more.

  “Hi, gorgeous,” Jock pulled her into his arms for a hug. “What are you drinking? Glass of fizz? A pint of Guinness? Half a pint of the house plonk?”

  “Lemonade, please.” She always had the same because she was always driving.

  “With ice? Go on, be a devil,” Jock teased. “Are you daring enough to add a slice of lemon?”

  “No ice, no lemon.” She never had ice or lemon.

  “Don’t tell me you’re driving again.” Jock glanced at his brother.

  “I told you before. We tossed when we met and she lost.” Lewin grinned.

  “Wanker,” Jock muttered under his breath.

  Mollie said hello to the others and dropped on the seat next to Sam.

  “Hurry up and decide what you want to eat,” Sam said. “We’re starving.”

  “We’re late because Mollie was having a wardrobe crisis,” Lewin said. “Couldn’t make up her mind what to wear.”

  As he went off to the bar with his brother, Sam rolled her eyes. “More like he decided what he wanted you to wear.”

  Mollie didn’t answer, but a slither of discomfort trickled down her spine with the awareness that Sam had noticed.

  “Has Lewin told you about the boat?” Will asked.

  “No.” Her heart tried to swim and sank.

  “We want to hire a yacht for a few days and cruise round the islands,” Sam said. “We can sleep on board. Shouldn’t be too expensive between the four of us.”

  “Right.” Oh God.

  “We can anchor up in isolated coves, sunbathe on deck and go skinny-dipping,” Sam said.

  Mollie wouldn’t dare unclip the safety line let alone take off her life vest, and she doubted Lewin would want her skinny-dipping in front of Will.

  “Will knows how to handle a yacht so he can teach the rest of us.” Sam snuggled against him.

  Mollie had a desperate yearning to stay at home and do something simple like cleaning the fridge.

  “You need to bring a soft-sided bag,” Will said. “And don’t pack too much. There won’t be room for a load of luggage.”

  Lewin and Jock came back to the table with the drinks. Jock sat opposite, Lewin next to her.

  “Sam wants us to order,” Mollie said. “I’d like—”

  “I’ve ordered you lasagna,” Lewin said.

  “Oh. Could you change it? I’d rather have fish and chips.”

  “Don’t be awkward. Chips’ll make you fat. You’re fine with lasagna.”

  Mollie bristled. “I’m not being awkward.”

  “Yes, you fucking are.”

  “But—”

  “You like lasagna.”

  Even as she gave in, she knew she was doing the wrong thing, but she didn’t want to make a scene in front of his friends. Stop using that as an excuse. When she sipped her drink, she almost spat it back into the glass. Yuk. Tonic, not lemonade. She glanced at Lewin and saw the look on his face, as if daring her to make an issue. Sometimes it seemed as though he wanted to see how far he could push her. Well, he’d just shoved her over the line. If she couldn’t even have the drink she wanted, what was the point of any of this?

  As she began to stand, Lewin caught her wrist and pulled her down, digging his nails into her skin. She jerked free, but stayed seated, shocked, still feeling the press of his fingers. Lewin started a conversation with Will about football as if he hadn’t hurt her. When she tried again to get to her feet, he grabbed her wrist beneath the table and twisted.

  Mollie gasped. “You’re hurting me.”

  Lewin laughed and let her go. “Don’t know my own strength.”

  When they’d first started going out together, he’d behaved as if he was the luckiest guy in the world. He couldn’t have been a more perfect boyfriend. No one had ever given her such sweet, thoughtful gifts—courtesy of his local garage, but still—constantly texted to check she was okay, and actually called her when he said he would. He said such lovely things and she thought she’d never met a more charming man. When he’d asked her to move in, Mollie had barely been able to believe it. No one had ever suggested that before. Even when Lewin went on to make the point about them saving money by sharing bills, she’d ignored the detail that the offer might have been based more on economics than romance.

  Still, everything had been great, life had been fun, they’d shopped together, watched TV together, and made love all the time, and she couldn’t remember when she’d been happier—until she wasn’t. She couldn’t even pinpoint when it had started. Had there been a day when he’d pushed too hard? Or was it just that the constant attrition had finally worn her down? His mercurial moods exhausted her and made her snap at him. She hadn’t realized that the highs she’d usually seen him in when they’d been living apart were balanced by deep lows that dragged her down, too. She tolerated the situation because she knew he had a difficult, stressful job, but after spending the day dealing with thirty little kids, she came home and had to handle a bigger one.

  They’d never rowed and now they did. They’d have rowed a lot more if Mollie hadn’t done ten-point turns away from confrontation. But she didn’t like him to be upset, didn’t like anyone to be upset. Life was too short to be miserable over stuff that didn’t really matter, like changing a dress, or her shoes, or adding more lipstick, except she wasn’t stupid. She knew it was more than that. But she’d been determined to be a glass half full girl, and see the best in everyone, and with Lewin that was hard and getting harder. All she had to do was say stop, and she knew she should have said it long before now.

  She felt as if he always blamed her for everything that went wrong—the dishes not being washed, the bed not being made, the garbage not being put out, his shirt not being ironed. Didn’t matter that he always apologized after, saying it showed how much he needed her. He was an expert at turning the blame on himself in a way that still made her feel guilty. He had a whole repertoire of ‘ways to make up to Mollie’—getting her bath ready, putting tea lights around the edge, bringing her a cocktail he’d concocted or letting her choose what they watched on TV. She knew his job was demanding but so was hers. Whenever she tried to talk to him about the way he spoke to her and treated her, they ended up quarreling.

  It was the second mouthful of tonic that fi
nally made her see sense. She’d had enough. No more thinking about breaking up with him. No more making excuses for him. She wasn’t happy and neither was he. They might muddle on for a few more months but this wasn’t going to last. No amount of protectiveness and attentive behavior could make this relationship right. Almost as if he knew what she was thinking, Lewin slung his arm over her shoulder and pulled her in for a kiss.

  “Okay, gorgeous?” he asked and licked her lips. “You taste lovely.”

  “Get a room or use the bathroom,” Jock said. “The stall on the end isn’t too bad. I’ve tested it out several times. There’s a line of notches on the left-hand side.”

  Jayne elbowed him. “You’re disgusting.”

  Lewin laughed and threaded his fingers in Mollie’s hair. “I love your hair,” he whispered in her ear. “I want it wrapped around my cock later.”

  “I heard that,” Jock said and Mollie gasped.

  “You—” She started to speak and Lewin interrupted.

  “You better start growing your hair, little brother,” Lewin said. “That’s the only way it’s going to happen to you.”

  Jock laughed. “Now I know what you said.”

  Mollie’s cheeks heated.

  “Guess how many goes it took Mollie to get out of the cul-de-sac,” Lewin said. “I’ll buy the winner a drink.”

  Ah, the regular humiliation. Mollie sat and pretended to be a good sport while Lewin described her driving. She glanced at her wrist and rubbed it. The crescent marks left by his nails were quite clear. She hadn’t done anything to deserve that. It’s over, Mollie girl. You have to leave him. He’s not going to leave you. Even without another place to live, she’d go. She knew she’d take the coward’s way out and not tell him. There was no point. He was too controlling. He hardly let her speak without interrupting, and constantly criticized what she said. He was currently making everyone laugh at her expense and although she hadn’t minded at first, she did now.

  “Not fourteen,” Lewin said. “Though she’s getting worse, not better. No one guessed. Ten.” He rubbed her head and grinned. “Muppet.”

  “How are the kids? Any more gems from Jeremy?” Jock asked.

  Mollie nodded. “Today, in the middle of me reading the class a story, he lay down, put his head on his arms and closed his eyes. He said if I was a bit quieter he might be able to go to sleep.”

  Jock and the others laughed.

  Lewin put his pint down. “You shouldn’t be so boring.”

  She clenched her fists and tapped her foot in agitation.

  “Mollie’s not boring, you wanker,” Jock said.

  Oh God, if only I fancied you. But even if she had, there was no way Lewin could have coped with losing her to his brother.

  “Thanks, Jock,” she said. “Glad you’re on my side.”

  Lewin tensed next to her, but she ignored him.

  Jock smiled at her. “You have thirty little kids and one big one, my arsehole of a brother, who loves you. I can guess who gives you the most trouble.”

  He doesn’t love me. The knowledge settled on her like a crushing weight. He doesn’t know what love is. And I don’t love him. He isn’t going to change. He’s going to get worse and I can’t help him. I have to stop this.

  The lukewarm lasagna arrived, the gelatinous creamy top sliding off the greasy meat as the plate landed on the table. The garnish was a couple of pieces of wet lettuce, a chunk of tomato and two slices of cucumber. She made no attempt to eat any of it. Lewin had fish and chips. The bastard. She was desperate for a chip, but he had a thing about not letting her have anything from his plate, so she sat and starved.

  “You haven’t even tried it,” Lewin said.

  “I’m not going to.” She flashed him a defiant look and he tightened his mouth.

  “You still have to pay for it,” Sam said.

  “I wasn’t planning to run out without paying.”

  “I should hope not,” Jock said. “Not with a table full of cops.”

  “I can run faster than you lot anyway,” Mollie said.

  Jock laughed. Lewin glowered. She could run faster than them. All she had to do now she’d decided to leave was run far enough.

  Why was she even sitting here, a meal in front of her she hadn’t wanted and, apart from Jock, with people she didn’t like? The idea of two weeks with Sam and Will, part of the time confined on a boat, filled her with horror.

  She’d tell Lewin how she felt when they got back to the flat. She owed him that. It was too cowardly to just sneak away and not say anything. Didn’t he see how much she hated being belittled? What if he promises to try and change? Asks for one last chance? She swallowed hard. Oh, Mollie girl, you idiot. You’ve given him enough chances. She’d made her decision. All she had to do was stick to it.

  A weight had lifted from her shoulders and she stood up. “Another round? What would you all like?” The last one she’d ever buy them.

  As she stood at the bar waiting for the barman to notice her, she promised herself she was going to change. She’d buy clothes she liked, have her hair cut short. What the hell had she been thinking for the last few months? She’d lost herself trying to be what Lewin wanted. She’d tried to make him happy and failed. It was time to find the real Mollie again. Happy Mollie.

  She handed out the drinks and sat down.

  Lewin took one mouthful of his and spat it back into the glass. “What the fuck’s that?”

  “I thought you might like to try beer and blackcurrant.”

  Everyone but Lewin roared.

  He stared at her in bewilderment. “Why would you think that?”

  “Same reason you bought me tonic and not lemonade.”

  “Ooh you’re in trouble now,” Jock said. “He’s got his face on.”

  “Bloody women.” Lewin smiled but there was no warmth in it.

  He didn’t speak to Mollie for the rest of the night and she actually enjoyed herself. She made Jock laugh with another story about Jeremy and he made everyone shut up to listen to her repeat it. He even told Lewin off when he carried on talking over her.

  “We’re all ears, Mollie,” Jock said. “Try again now prat-face has shut up.”

  “When the kids were changing for games, Jeremy said to the entire class—I only have a little penis now, but when I grow up it will be enormous like my dad’s. He held out his hands about a foot apart. Some of the other kids said he was lying and no one’s daddy had a penis that big. We had a bit of a discussion about things staying private, but when Jeremy’s dad came to collect him, Jeremy repeated what he’d told me and asked his dad to show me and prove it. I couldn’t look the guy in the eye.”

  “He’d be more interesting below the belt,” Jayne said and giggled. “Is he good looking?”

  “Yep.”

  “You ought to write a book about what the kids say,” Jock said.

  “It’s mostly Jeremy and he never has an unspoken thought. His dad’s a lawyer. I wouldn’t risk it.”

  Lewin still hadn’t said a word when they set off on the drive home, still hadn’t spoken as they walked into the flat, but when the door closed, he grabbed her shoulder and shoved her against the wall. “You are such a fucking bitch.”

  “Why?”

  “You made me look an idiot.”

  “You made yourself look an idiot.”

  He slapped her face, and Mollie was so stunned she just stood there with her mouth open.

  “Did you hit me?” Stupid, stupid question, but even as the heat spread over her tingling cheek, she wondered if she’d imagined it.

  He hit her again and Mollie gasped in pain, her heart pounding. She lifted her hand to her face and he caught her wrist and twisted it.

  “Ouch. What was that for?”

  “You need teaching a lesson.”

  “Let me go. I can’t believe you hit me. I haven’t done anything. God, you shouldn’t have hit me even if I had done something. What the hell were you thinking?”

  “Been
ogling Jeremy’s dad?” There was something dark in Lewin’s expression that flipped her annoyance into fear.

  “Of course I haven’t. It was just a funny thing a kid said. Everyone laughed. Even his dad.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “Yeah, well you seem to have lost your sense of fun.” She wrenched free of his hold and made for the bathroom.

  She didn’t get there. He caught hold of her hair, yanked her back and, thrown off balance, she smacked her head against the wall before she tumbled to the floor.

  “Ouch. What are you doing?” She stared up at him in bewilderment.

  Lewin hauled her up by the arm, his face blazing with fury. “You spent the evening flirting with Jock, you bitch.”

  Her stomach lurched. “No I didn’t. I was just chatting to him. And don’t call me a bitch. I don’t like it.”

  “And I don’t like you sucking up to my brother. I know what I fucking saw.”

  He punched her in the stomach and she doubled over in agony. As he wrenched her upright, she fought to get free, but the more she struggled, the more he hit her. He’d taught her some self-defense moves and she dragged her mind into gear. Eyes, nose, neck, knees. But he countered every move she made and when she fell to the floor again, this time he dropped on top of her and she cried out in pain.

  “Please,” she panted. “Don’t.”

  “You’re a fucking cunt.” Lewin pinned her to the carpet and pulled her arms over her head.

  She gasped for breath, tears rolling down her face. As he shifted his weight, she brought her knee up as hard as she could between his legs and he rolled off her, howling. Mollie crawled away, trying to reach the bathroom and a door that locked, but he caught her ankle and dragged her back. Then he was on his feet, kicking her and calling her names while she curled in a ball and tried to protect herself. Part of her still struggled to accept what was happening.

  It felt as if the beating went on for the longest time, though she suspected it didn’t last more than a few minutes. Once he’d stopped, there wasn’t a single part of her that didn’t hurt. Her dress was ripped, her shoes knocked off. Lewin sat against the wall a few feet away, his hand over his groin, his head tipped back, eyes closed, breathing heavily. Bastard. She was afraid to move in case he hit her again, afraid to move in case she found he’d broken something. She could taste blood in her mouth and guessed that she’d bitten her tongue.