Patrick appeared in the doorway. His eyes were slightly glazed, and Lucy sighed.
‘What the fuck was that for?’
‘Patrick! Please don’t swear in front of Siobhan. I’m just tired, OK? That’s all. My parents are going to be here soon, and I’m not really in the mood. I guess I’d better start the dinner.’ Lucy turned and put the shopping bags on the counter. To avoid confrontation with Patrick, Lucy prepared the dinner.
‘Will your sister be coming?’ Patrick called. Lucy’s shoulders tightened. She didn’t have to turn around to know that Patrick was sneering at her.
‘I’m not sure. Mel just split up with her husband. She wasn’t sure if she could make it.’ Melody and Lucy didn’t share the best of relationships, though she hoped that would change. Lucy hadn’t told Patrick that Mel was single again, because she knew he’d use that to wind her up. She saw the disgusting way Patrick ogled her sister. At one point, Lucy had confronted Mel about the way she flirted with Patrick. Mel had laughed in her face and told her that flirting was one thing, fucking was another. Lucy never thought that Mel would ever make her feel the way Patrick did, but with that one sentence, Mel had confirmed how weak she believed Lucy to be. Their relationship was never the same after that.
‘Pity. Would be nice to have something pretty to look at.’ Patrick purposely knocked into Lucy as he made his way to the fridge for another can of beer.
‘How many of those have you had?’
‘Don’t start,’ he warned. ‘I’m really not in the mood. Isn’t it bad enough I have to sit across from your father and listen to his snide remarks about me?’
Lucy didn’t answer. She had seen the look in his eyes.
‘So, what’s for dinner then? I hope you’re going to make something edible for a change.’
Trying a different tack, Lucy put on a cheerful voice. ‘Your favourite. I thought I’d make a shepherd’s pie.’
‘Well at least that’s something. Even you couldn’t fuck that up.’ He headed back to the living room.
Lucy’s stomach was cramping with nerves. This wasn’t going to be an enjoyable evening. Why didn’t I just keep my mouth shut?
Forty minutes later, with the dinner in the oven and the kitchen tidied, Lucy asked Siobhan to set the table and went to get changed. If Mel was coming, Lucy would feel like a frumpy, old woman. Every one of her nice outfits was now too tight, all she had were her work clothes. She held back her tears, knowing that her father would start asking questions if he saw her red, puffy eyes. Lucy put on a little make-up, black trousers with a sweater, and stared sadly at herself in the mirror.
Mel was a high-paid solicitor in Birmingham. Her soon-to-be ex-husband was also a solicitor, and this always made Lucy feel slightly inferior. At work, Mel would wear power suits and come across as the total professional that she was. Outside of the office, though, it was short skirts, tight tops, and stiletto heels that were her sister’s weapons of choice. It never used to bother Lucy, until now – now she’d let herself go. Not caring served a purpose though: it reduced the number of times Patrick could accuse her of cheating. Instead, he would put her down, pointing out that she was lucky he wanted her as no one else would. Lucy sighed and headed back downstairs.
Patrick looked up from the chair. ‘Why are you wearing make-up?’
‘I just thought I’d make a bit of an effort.’
‘Oh, nice, you don’t make any effort for me, but you’re happy to put a bunch of shit on your face to impress your parents.’
Lucy knew she shouldn’t have bothered, but she didn’t want her parents wondering why she’d changed so much. Questions would be asked, and she just couldn’t cope with the look of disappointment she knew she’d see on her father’s face. Taking a tissue out of her pocket, she wiped some of the make-up off and sat anxiously on the edge of the sofa to wait for her parents.
The knock on the door startled her. Siobhan ran to answer it, but Lucy called after her. ‘Hang on, sweetie. I’ll get it.’ She ruffled Siobhan’s hair on the way past. Lucy hadn’t seen her parents for some time, so wanted to be the first to greet them. They had been very supportive of her – particularly her father – allowing her space to make her own decisions. It broke her heart that she now felt so distant from them. Straightening her sweater, she took a deep breath and pasted on a smile as she opened the door.
‘Hi, Mum. Hey, Dad!’ She invited them inside and kissed each of them on the cheek as they squeezed by her in the doorway. She was about to close the door when her sister put her hand out.
‘Eh! Charming, sis!’
‘Oh sorry, Mel. I didn’t see you hiding there.’ Lucy’s hands squeezed into fists as she looked her sister up and down. They were complete opposites. Mel worked out and showed off her toned arms and shapely legs with a tank top and short skirt.
‘Aren’t you cold? You barely have anything on.’
‘Don’t be jealous, Luce. It’s not an attractive feature.’
Why did I even invite them around? Shrugging her shoulders, Lucy shuffled them all from the kitchen to their seats in the dining room. Lucy cringed when her dad sat at the head of the table. The sooner this was over, the better.
The tension in Lucy’s shoulders subsided as dinner and drinks were served; the talk around the table was polite if not semi-strained. Lucy was embarrassed to see Patrick drinking heavily and leering over Mel. She seemed to be loving the attention, giggling like a teenager. The scowl on her father’s face said it all. Lucy figured her mother must have asked him to keep his mouth shut, because he barely said two words during the meal. Siobhan, as always, was as good as gold and Lucy smiled at her.
‘I’ll help you clear the table, Lucy.’ She really was a little diamond and Lucy gave her a hug as she gathered the plates.
‘Is everyone ready for dessert?’ Lucy called from the kitchen. She heard a few moans; the shepherd’s pie must have filled them up. But once dessert was served, Lucy knew her father would want to make a quick exit and that suited her just fine. The room was silent except for the awkward sound of cutlery scraping on plates. Someone coughed uneasily. Lucy didn’t want to make her parents stay where they were clearly uncomfortable. Her sister was the first to answer.
‘None for me, Luce. Can’t afford to add any extra pounds, if you know what I mean?’
Lucy held her tongue. She noticed Patrick lean over and whisper something in Mel’s ear. Mel giggled and slapped Patrick playfully on the arm.
The flirting between the pair was making Lucy feel physically sick. How could he do that in front of her? In front of her parents and Siobhan? Her hands shook with rage.
Before she could say anything, her father interjected, ‘Enough now, Melody. Can we just enjoy dessert without any of this nonsense?’ Lucy looked at her dad and thanked him with her eyes. He returned the action with a smile and a nod. Lucy really did miss her father, but she knew that the less contact she had with her parents, the less likely they were to realize what she was going through. She couldn’t take the pity looks and she didn’t want to hurt her family.
Everyone devoured the dessert in record time. Patrick made it clear the night was over by abruptly standing up and making a move to leave the table. ‘Right, time to clear the pipes out! Think that’s the first decent meal Lucy’s cooked in ages; my body isn’t used to it!’ He laughed loudly.
‘It’s late, darling. I think we’re going to make a move,’ Lucy’s dad said.
Patrick didn’t acknowledge him but turned to Mel, leaned in, and kissed her on the cheek.
‘It was really nice to see you. Don’t be a stranger.’ At least this time Mel had the courtesy to blush as she saw the look on Lucy’s face.
‘Take care, Patrick,’ Mel said. She reached her hand out to Siobhan. ‘Come give your Aunty Mel a hug, sweets.’
Siobhan walked over and gave Mel a big hug as everyone said their goodbyes. Patrick disappeared upstairs as Mel and her mother got into the car. Lucy’s dad, however, pulled Lucy aside
and they stood in the front garden outside the open door.
‘Why do you put up with that, sweetheart? You’re so much better than him.’
‘Oh, Dad …’ Lucy hugged her father tight. ‘He’s not always that bad. He’s had a tough time lately.’ Lucy saw the look of disappointment in her father’s face. She could feel the tears welling up, too ashamed to tell him the whole truth.
‘It’s OK, Lou-lou.’ He used to call her that when she was a little girl. ‘There is always a place for you at ours, if you ever change your mind.’ He wrapped his strong arms around her and gave her a squeeze.
Lucy choked back the tears. ‘Thanks, Dad. That means a lot.’ She gave him another hug and waved them off, not seeing Patrick as he stepped back from the open bathroom window directly above the front door.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Across town, at the same time Lucy’s parents were saying their goodbyes, field officers were about to carry out the safe-and-well check for Louise. They knew Robert well as he’d been arrested a few times for drunk and disorderly.
As they approached the house, they saw a light in the front room. One of the officers knocked while the other tried to look through the window.
‘Who is it? Do you know what fucking time it is? Taking the bloody piss!’
‘Police, ma’am. We’re here to check that everything is OK.’
‘Well it is, so get lost!’
The officers looked at each other.
‘Please, ma’am. Do you mind if we come in for a few minutes for a chat?’
Both officers knew that if they left the property without actually seeing Louise, there could be trouble; Robert could be inside coercing Louise to get rid of them.
They heard the chains rattle and multiple bolts being undone. Clearly Louise was concerned for her safety. The door eventually eased open slowly. One chain remained, and Louise poked her head between the gap.
‘There! Satisfied?’ The officers heard her mumble some not so savoury words underneath her breath.
‘Uh, no – sorry, ma’am. Could you please open the door fully?’
‘Oh, for fuck’s sake …’ Louise shot back the final chain and wrenched open the door. ‘Happy now?’
‘Yes, ma’am. Sorry to have upset you. Can we just come in for a quick chat?’
‘Please yourselves.’ Stepping out of the way, Louise ushered the two officers into the living room. They could see curtains twitching in the street outside; Louise was clearly keen to get them out of sight.
‘When was the last time you saw Robert?’ The officer closest to Louise asked while his colleague stood looking around the room.
‘The last time I saw that waste of space was when I called you guys. Yesterday I think it was, it could’ve been the day before. Fucked if I know. There is a restraining order in place but that seems to do jack shit – which is why I never got one before! I mean, what is the point of having it if he can swan over here, do some damage, and then the police act?’
‘We understand your frustration, Mrs Millard. But it really is the best option. And with the panic alarm and your house being flagged – the police will respond immediately.’
‘Yeah, yeah. I get it. Just pisses me off.’
Before leaving, the officers advised her what she should do if Robert turned up at her house again but neither were confident she would heed their advice. They only hoped the next visit wasn’t for something more serious.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Patrick stood back from the bathroom window. Fucking prick should mind his own business. He gripped the sink and tried to control his breathing. It wouldn’t have bothered him so much if he hadn’t been drinking that evening. But he had, and he was fuming now. Blaming it on the alcohol made him feel better. He’d often say to Lucy, ‘If I’d been sober, that would never have happened,’ but Patrick knew the truth. It would have. Patrick hated feeling out of control, hated people treating him like a muppet. It wasn’t his fault if people kept winding him up. People like Lucy. People like Lucy’s dad. They did it on purpose. Especially when Lucy used her probation speak. If she’s going to treat me like an offender, I may as well behave like one.
Patrick loved Lucy despite all the arguments … the other women in his life were just a means to an end. A man has needs, and if Lucy didn’t want to fulfil them, he knew plenty of other women who would. Maybe he should make a move on Mel, make Lucy really appreciate what she has. He’d never leave her though. There was no way she’d leave him either. He’d make sure of that.
He flushed the toilet when he heard her come back inside and went into Siobhan’s room.
Inside the house, Lucy shut the door and leaned against it. Looking around the kitchen, she knew she’d have to clean up before going to bed. She turned on the hot water tap and started to fill the sink. While she waited, she wiped down the counters, and the dining table. Bitterness filled her mouth at the fact that her sister had reciprocated Patrick’s flirting. Actually enjoyed it. Especially after Lucy had confronted her and told her how she felt. Lucy wiped the table harder, her jaw tight. She thought her sister was better than that.
Lucy could hear Patrick upstairs with Siobhan. Although unusual, she was grateful that he was getting Siobhan ready for bed. She didn’t have the energy. It still made her suspicious, though. Patrick never did anything without expecting something in return, even for his own child. She wouldn’t let that prey on her mind; instead she wanted to get the kitchen cleaned and get up to bed before Patrick came down, that way, she might avoid any argument.
As she was finishing the last of the dishes she heard him on the stairs. Staring out the window at the overgrown back garden, her heart sank. She’d missed her opportunity. With a sigh, she prepared herself for whatever insulting comments he was about to unleash on her.
‘So, what’s your dad’s problem then?’ The accusation in Patrick’s voice was undeniable.
‘What are you talking about? My dad barely said two words all evening.’
‘Ah. OK. Are we playing that game then? I hate when you play dumb, Lucy … really fucking annoys me.’ Patrick’s lip curled in that sneer that Lucy recognized; she had to think fast, or something bad was going to happen.
‘Seriously, Patrick. I have no clue what you’re talking about.’
Patrick prodded her shoulder sharply as he accentuated each word spoken. ‘Don’t. Worry. I. Know. Exactly. What. I. Am. Talking. About.’ He then tapped his nose and winked. Making his way to the fridge, he peeked past the open door, staring at Lucy as he took out a can and cracked it open. He knew she hated that sound.
Lucy cringed and turned away. He won. She placed the tea towel on the counter and started to walk off. Patrick’s phone pinged indicating he had a text message. Just as Lucy reached the bottom of the stairs, she heard Patrick call out, ‘Well, will you looky here! Looks like your sister might fancy a piece of me.’ Lucy stopped dead in her tracks. Her head was screaming, Ignore him. He’s just doing this to wind you up. She clenched her jaw and began to turn around. What the hell was Mel playing at? When did she start texting MY husband?
Lucy was on her way back to the kitchen when Patrick came out. ‘Oh, you’re back. I thought you were slinking off to bed. And not even a goodnight kiss.’
‘What did my sister want?’
‘Wouldn’t you like to know.’
She swallowed down her rage.
‘Forget it. I’m going upstairs.’
She made a move to turn around, but Patrick was fast. He grabbed her by her upper arm and pulled her close. He gripped her mouth, his thumb and index finger pinching her face so her lips puckered, and he kissed her. Hard. When she eventually broke free, he leaned into her ear and whispered, ‘I wonder if your sister kisses better.’
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Patrick smirked as he sat down and looked at the text from Lucy’s sister.
Hi, Patrick. Great to see you tonight. If you ever fancy a pint, give me a bell. Would be great to see you and Lucy again. X
M.
Of course, he didn’t tell Lucy about the last bit. He could use it to wind Lucy up. She might even appreciate him more.
Sipping on his beer, Patrick withdrew into his dark place. He knew that alcohol was a bad mix when he was in a mood, but he didn’t care. He drank for many reasons, but mainly to stop the demons that haunted him.
As a child, he was abused sexually, and rather than deal with the abuse, his mother ignored the problem. As Patrick’s dark thoughts spiralled, he was suddenly fifteen years old standing in his bedroom.
It was dark outside and he was shaking with fear, trying not to think about Uncle Stan … He looked at the baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire that he had spent weeks making ….
He nearly beat Uncle Stan to death that night before his mother stopped him. The police weren’t called, and Uncle Stan was warned if he ever stepped foot in the house or was seen anywhere in the area, his life was over.
Patrick stood up and started pacing the room, trying to walk away his memories. If he ever saw Uncle Stan again, he knew exactly what he would do; he had been planning every single detail for years. Patrick kicked a chair across the room.
People wound him up. He told himself he couldn’t help it, but really, he could. He knew exactly where and when he could lash out. Spotting weakness in others a mile off was his biggest talent. He preyed on people’s vulnerabilities and had a charm about him that got him into their favour. People could be very stupid sometimes. He drew the line at his kids though. He’d never lay a hand on them and God help anyone else who tried.
Upstairs, Lucy sat up on the bed, listening for Patrick. By the sound of it, he was settling downstairs for the night as she heard another can of lager being opened. After he had forcefully kissed her she had run upstairs, desperate to scrub the taste of him out of her mouth. Lucy hoped he wasn’t going into one of his moods: the mood when he’d start his drunken ramblings, his voice getting louder the more he drank, until he was shouting at the walls, the floor, or his own reflection. It wasn’t good for Siobhan to hear her dad that way. She was a deep sleeper, like her father, and Lucy only hoped that she slept through it.
Dead Inside Page 4
