by K. L. Slater
‘I don’t like Cassie’s influence, Rose. I trust you implicitly but your friend’s morals are sadly lacking.’
Rose felt a twinge of loyalty towards Cassie but she didn’t say anything. She really didn’t want to make a bad situation any worse.
She swallowed down the grizzle that started up in her throat whenever Gareth got annoyed. She’d read an article in a magazine only last week, warning girls about the signs of being in a controlling relationship; constantly walking on eggshells, afraid of saying the wrong thing. It was worrying.
‘Promise me you’ll stop. No more hanging out at lunchtimes with boys.’ Gareth paused and sighed. ‘I’m like this because I care about you, Rosie. I care so much about you, it physically hurts me at times.’
She could hardly believe the wonderful words that were now tipping from his lips like rose petals.
‘I promise I’ll stop,’ she said, instantly forgiving his earlier suspicions.
He wasn’t trying to control her, she realised. Gareth cared about her.
Maybe she’d got so used to being snapped at by her parents and living with the backdrop of their continuous arguments, she’d forgotten what it felt like to have someone looking out for her. Someone who cared deeply.
Rose supposed that sometimes meant saying things she didn’t necessarily want to hear.
Gareth ended the call pretty quickly after that, saying he had some important paperwork to do.
Rose could sense he was annoyed about the plans she’d made for him to meet her friends the next day but Cassie was chewing her ears off, desperate to meet him.
Anyway, she shouldn’t feel guilty, she resolved. It was natural for him to meet her friends, wasn’t it? Hopefully, it would settle his doubts; he would see that her male friends were perfectly harmless.
They’d been dating a while now, still managing to keep it secret from her overbearing father who, miraculously, was now Gareth’s greatest fan.
It felt like their relationship was going from strength to strength.
She could feel it.
26
SIXTEEN YEARS EARLIER
Rose had agreed to go to Cassie’s house straight from college so she could help her prepare for the party.
They walked straight upstairs, past Jed and a group of his wolf-whistling mates who were gaming in the living room. Rose pushed thoughts of Gareth’s fury, if he heard them, out of her mind.
‘They’ll be gone soon,’ Cassie told Rose when they got up to her bedroom. ‘Gives us time to get ready, anyhow. Tonight is the night you show Gareth how grown-up and glamorous you can look.’
Rose began to object but quickly realised it was hopeless. She might as well let Cassie just get on with it.
Twenty minutes later, Cassie put the last lick of mascara on with a flourish, and said, ‘Ta dah!’
Rose turned around and stared at herself in the mirror.
Cassie had layered make-up on her eyes, far heavier than last time. With the deep-plum lipstick and shimmery pink cheeks, Rose thought she rather resembled a painted doll and not in a good way.
Cassie frowned. ‘Well, don’t get too excited.’
‘Sorry. It’s great, you’ve done brilliantly, Cass.’ Rose pressed her lips together. ‘I just don’t know if it’s the right look for me, that’s all.’
‘Don’t talk wet! Of course it’s the right look. You look completely different.’
‘I know and that’s the problem, really. I’m not sure Gareth will want me looking—’
‘Sod Gareth! It’s what you think that matters and you want to look glam, don’t you?’ Cassie backcombed and mussed at her hair until Rose felt like a wild banshee. ‘He’ll love it, trust me. And anyway, he’s your boyfriend, remember? Not your bloody keeper.’
Rose sighed and sat on the bed while she watched her friend layer on her own rainbow eyeshadow.
‘I’ve got two pairs of these.’ Cassie held up miniscule hot pants – one black pair and one pink. ‘And I’ve got two tight white tops to go with them.’
Rose refused to be bullied into wearing the shorts but, on Cassie’s insistence, she slipped on the top and found to her surprise that it fit perfectly in all the right places.
She turned this way and that in front of the mirror, admiring her own slim curves and imagining how Gareth might think she looked womanly.
When they heard Jed and his mates go off to the pub, the two girls went downstairs and began their lengthy preparations.
While Cassie tidied round and organised the music CDs, Rose emptied packets of crisps and nuts into dishes and dotted them around the poky living room.
Then they trotted back and forth up and down the garden, lugging in the big brown bottles of beer and the packs of alcopops that Cassie had hidden behind the dilapidated garden shed to foil Jed and his thirsty friends.
When Rose looked at her watch she was surprised to see it was already seven-thirty. Cassie was still upstairs in the bathroom when there was a knock at the front door. Rose called up to her but there was no answer so she tentatively opened the door, stepping back in surprise.
‘Gareth, you’re early!’ She smiled and took a step towards him, holding her face up to his for a kiss. ‘There’s nobody here for the party yet but come in, you can meet Cassie.’
Gareth didn’t move.
‘What’s wrong?’ she asked, stepping back, wide-eyed.
‘What have you done to yourself?’ His voice sounded low and strange.
‘You mean this?’ She grinned and wiggled her fingers around her face and hair. ‘Cassie made me up, for the party. I – I wanted to look nice for you tonight.’
Rose grinned but she could feel the heat building in her cheeks under the thick, cloying make-up.
He didn’t speak, so she placed her hands on his shoulders.
‘I’m glad you’re here.’ She smiled.
‘Rose,’ he said slowly. ‘It doesn’t look like you. At all.’
‘That was sort of the idea.’ She giggled, rather pleased at his shocked expression. If he’d thought her a college kid, it looked like this new image had vastly changed his mind. ‘I wanted to look glamorous for a change.’
‘But it makes you look cheap, Rosie.’
His eyes flickered over the tight T-shirt that clung to her body and she folded her arms across her chest.
‘You don’t need all that stuff smeared all over your pretty face.’ He stepped inside the kitchen and gripped her upper arms. ‘You don’t need to show off your body to everyone. That’s not who you are, Rose.’
She felt hot and itchy and the contents of her stomach curdled, as if she might throw up at any second. She’d let Cassie convince her to try something different and it had backfired horribly.
Gareth pulled her to him and wrapped his arms around her. ‘You’re beautiful as you are, Rose, a natural beauty. You don’t need all this crap.’ He licked his finger, pressed it to her mouth and dragged it slowly across her cheek.
Tears prickled as she felt her lipstick smear across her face. Shame felt like a red heat and it spread everywhere. Under her skin and swimming in her eyes.
‘I just wanted to show you I could look sophisticated,’ she sobbed, tears now in free-fall. She wished she could just drop dead.
Gareth wiped his sticky fingers on the front of her T-shirt and hugged her closer to him. His chest felt sturdy and dependable. She felt sorry she’d made him so angry and yet, at the same time, she couldn’t understand why it had.
‘Sophisticated is the last thing I want to see you looking, Rose. I like you fresh and natural.’ Gareth kissed the top of her head and bent down to whisper in her ear. ‘I like you looking young.’
Her forearms prickled with goosebumps and she pulled away from him.
‘What do you mean, you like me looking young?’
It sounded so… so utterly gross. Like Gareth was some kind of pervert.
He laughed and pulled her close to him again.
‘I don’t mean like
that, silly. I mean I want you to look like you; young and unaffected. Not like some painted…’ He hesitated. ‘Not like Cassie.’
Why had he said that? He hadn’t even seen Cassie before!
But should she feel upset that he wanted her for who she was, not for how sexy or glamorous she could look? Most girls would probably think that was wonderful.
‘I only want the best for you, Rosie, believe that.’ He held her tightly in his arms and she breathed a sigh of relief.
That’s all it was. He was only thinking about her.
He was always thinking about her.
27
SIXTEEN YEARS EARLIER
Rose heard Cassie’s footsteps bouncing across the ceiling above their heads.
She pulled away from Gareth’s embrace and hastily wiped her wet eyes with the back of her hand. Black and purple smears appeared there and she could only imagine the extent of the awfulness of her messed up make-up and how she now looked.
She looked down at her chest, at the livid purple stain Gareth had wiped over her crisp, white T-shirt.
Cassie appeared at the bottom of the stairs.
‘Cassie, this is Gareth,’ Rose said hurriedly, swallowing down her panic.
‘What the hell has happened to your make-up?’
‘I – I think I’m going to take it off, Cass.’
Cassie frowned and looked at Gareth, her eyes narrowing as she joined up the dots. ‘Did you make her cry?’
At first, Gareth didn’t answer. His eyes travelled down past her tight T-shirt and even tighter pink shorts, over legs that were glowing orange with developing false tan, to her strappy high heels. Then they travelled back up again to her heavily made-up face.
Rose shuffled on alternate feet.
‘Have you upset Rose?’ Cassie demanded, jutting out her chin.
Gareth’s mouth twisted up as if he could taste something nasty. ‘What if I did upset Rose? How is that any of your business?’
Rose looked in horror at the two of them. Her best friend and her new boyfriend were already at loggerheads. This was never the plan.
‘It’s my business because she’s my best friend and she looked lovely before you got here.’
‘You look lovely too, Cassie,’ Rose said meekly.
Gareth looked over at Cassie, threw his head back and laughed. ‘Lovely is an interesting adjective to use, Rose.’
‘Are you going to let him speak to me like that?’ Cassie glared at Rose, her eyes sparking with indignation.
Rose stood silently looking at Gareth. Her arms hung down by her sides, fingers twisting against themselves.
‘Go upstairs and wash your face, Rose,’ Gareth said calmly, holding Cassie’s defiant stare. ‘And then we’ll get going.’
‘But the party—’ Rose began.
‘It’s time to make a choice, Rose,’ Cassie said without breaking the glare between herself and Gareth. ‘You either tell this… this bloke you just met to fuck off and stop trying to control you, or you ditch your best mate of thirteen years and go with him. Your call.’
‘Can’t you two just say sorry and start over?’ Rose blurted out, looking wildly at both in turn. ‘This is horrible, it wasn’t meant to be like this.’
Gareth reached out and took her hand. His fingers felt soft and cool. He gave her a gentle, encouraging squeeze.
‘Pop upstairs and wash all that crap off your face, Rosie, there’s a good girl,’ he said, smiling that smile that always made her knees feel weak. ‘I’m taking you for something to eat, somewhere nice and romantic. Just the two of us.’
Rose looked at him and then looked at Cassie. Both were looking at each other in a strange way that made her want to throw up again.
The back door was slightly ajar and she could hear birds singing in Cassie’s small, neglected garden. The air was warm but too early in the year for the heat to be oppressive. As Rose’s heart sank further down inside her, a cool breeze drifted through, kissing her clammy skin.
Tonight should have been perfect. Instead, everything was now ruined.
To be fair, Cassie had immediately attacked Gareth as soon as she came downstairs. Rose knew she was only being protective of her, but still…
She let go of Gareth’s hand and headed towards the stairs.
‘Sorry, Cassie,’ she said. ‘I can’t stay now.’
‘If that’s your choice, then fine.’ Cassie turned to look out of the window. ‘At least I know where I stand now.’
Gareth winked at her as she walked past him.
Upstairs, as she lathered her face with soap, Rose wondered if they were still standing staring at each other in the kitchen.
Both stubborn and refusing to be the one to walk away from their silent battle.
A whole week passed and still Cassie wouldn’t take Rose’s phone calls or answer the door to her.
She had steadfastly ignored her at college every day and made Rose look foolish by teaming up with a group of other girls that they wouldn’t ordinarily consider hanging around with. They would all giggle whenever Rose walked by and she coped with it by keeping out of their way as much as possible.
But just before she left on Thursday afternoon, Cassie cornered her in the common room. Rose’s heart gave a little hopeful leap.
‘Don’t think for a moment I want to be friends again, Rose.’ Cassie grabbed her arm. ‘You made your choice and that’s up to you. But for all the good times we’ve had together, I need to say something to you.’
Rose took a breath and waited. She had the distinct feeling this interaction wasn’t going to end at all well.
‘Be careful of Gareth Farnham. How long have you known him, really?’ Cassie didn’t wait for Rose to answer. ‘Three or four weeks at the most. He’s a total control freak, Rose; surely you can see that?’
Rose shook out of Cassie’s pincer grip and stared unseeingly out of the window. It was natural for Cassie to jump to conclusions about Gareth’s motives but she didn’t see the other side of him – the gentle way he treated her, as if she were made of glass.
But now wasn’t the time to start explaining how protective Gareth was, how wonderfully he treated her when they were alone. Cassie would only scoff and make fun of her. Probably delight in telling the other girls at college.
But neither did Rose intend to listen to Cassie’s poisoned, bitter litany. Gareth had warned her this very thing might happen. He’d said he was certain that Cassie had instigated the argument at her house last week because she was jealous of his and Rose’s relationship.
‘It might be hard to hear but he is controlling you, Rose. He controls how you look, who you hang around with… he’s even controlling your own dad now he’s got him volunteering with the village regeneration project.’
Rose sighed but she didn’t bother replying.
Cassie didn’t really have anyone who really cared about her. Carolyn, Cassie’s mum, let her and Jed do as they pleased. Carolyn spent too much time out of the house drinking with Cassie’s Aunt Noreen, who lived in Mansfield Woodhouse.
Rose had been the closest person Cassie had in her life and now she was bitter, angry. She’d honestly hoped that Cassie and Gareth could be friends but now Cassie had turned against them both, big time.
‘Rose, you’re doing everything Gareth tells you to do and it’s not right. You even admitted he chooses the flavour of the fucking ice cream you eat. He’s swallowing up your personality, can’t you see that?’
Rose now deeply regretted telling Cassie about their dates in such detail.
‘I’m sorry it’s come to this, Cassie,’ Rose said calmly. ‘But Gareth loves me. He only wants the best for me and if you want to call that “controlling”, then I suppose that’s your prerogative.’
‘Please yourself, I’m only trying to make you see what’s happening,’ Cassie snapped, pushing her face closer to Rose’s. ‘If he’s so wonderful, then why is he sneaking around with you behind your dad’s back? Maybe somebody ought to tell your p
arents exactly what’s going on. That would put an end to slimy Gareth Farnham.’
Rose gasped, but before she could think of a retort, Cassie had stormed off.
28
SIXTEEN YEARS EARLIER
Rose’s work had been selected for a special display in the college gallery. It was to be screened that very Friday but she stayed home, telling her mother she felt unwell.
Her parents were both out. Ray was working on the regeneration site. He’d proudly told Rose last night that Gareth had put him in charge of organising the other volunteer labourers.
‘He recognises I have a lot of unused skills from my days at the pit,’ Ray boasted. Rose smiled to herself as he puffed out his chest like one of the abbey’s resident peacocks. It was great to see him so motivated. The knock-on effect was that he seemed to be less argumentative all round, which had improved the atmosphere at home no end. ‘Plus I know everyone who’s helping out, I know who’ll be good at what, you see.’
Stella was providing a bit of a drinks/snacks service up at the site to keep everyone going. She’d baked some flapjacks and muffins last night, humming happily to herself in the kitchen. Rose had never seen her parents so engaged in something they chose to do together.
Love him or hate him, Gareth had transformed all their monotonous lives.
At twelve-thirty, Rose walked round to Gareth’s small flat as they’d planned when she texted him earlier to say she needed to talk. But her phone had just pinged with a message to say he’d had to delay his lunch slightly and would be ten minutes late.
She stood round the side of the house, away from prying neighbours’ eyes. Gareth’s flat was on the ground floor of a new property that looked rather like a town house from the front but was actually four small flats.
She jumped as a hunched figure appeared, clutching two large bin bags. Rose had seen the man before around the village and had the feeling he was the grandad of a girl at college but she couldn’t be sure. Although she knew most villagers by sight, she didn’t know all their names.
