‘I know, but I’m scared I’ll never be able to move on,’ he replied, as a tear ran down his cheek. ‘Look at me. I have you, a beautiful woman who wants to—’
‘Don’t say any more. I’ll not have your kids resenting me if all the photos go. The time will come when you’re ready. I’ve been where you are. I’ve grieved, mourned, thrown things in temper, even felt like ending it all. It’s a good job I had Joe, he’s been my rock. The time will come when you can move on, and that photo will still be there. Your kids need that photo there. They need their mother in their life.’
‘What have I ever done to deserve you?’ He put his tea on the window ledge and squeezed Brooke. She held him back. He glanced over her head, out of the window. The man hadn’t come back. He reached across and pulled the curtain slightly as an uneasy feeling washed through him.
Fourteen
‘I did what you wanted. I think the police should figure out that Florence has someone to stay with, for now,’ he said with a grin as he entered and sat on the end of her bed. She edged away from him, forcing her malnourished frame into the tiniest space possible.
There was hope. He’d done as she asked. She wanted to scream with joy, but that joy was soon quelled by doubt. Had she put her family in danger? Had she done the right thing? She wanted to punch the wall until her knuckles bled. Her chaotic thoughts threatened to expose themselves as she clenched her hand into a fist under the sheet.
He leaned into a bin bag and pulled out a brand-new quilt, a couple of pillows and some thick fleece blankets. ‘It’s about time you had something new. Let me take these dirty blankets away.’ Debbie shivered as he pulled the soiled blankets off her and deposited them in the bin bag. ‘Oh dear. It’s been a bit of a blood bath here. I’d better clean you up.’ He left the room, and she listened to the tap running as he filled a bowl.
The damp that she’d been lying in was getting cold now that she’d shuffled off it. The broken fan in the corner of the room led straight to the outdoors, allowing a little ray of light to shine through, especially now the trees were bare. She flinched as she moved further away from the dampness before taking a long look at what she’d been lying in. An array of lumps and blood stained the sheets underneath. She began to yank at them, pulling them from under her. As she twisted to grab the corner of the sheet that was under her bottom, she yelped in pain. She reached down and examined the hot stabbing pain that came from within and she knew she needed stitches. She closed her legs and began to pull at the sheet again, finally releasing it. Shuffling towards the edge of the bed, over the stain, she threw the clogged sheets into the bag. She needed to try and keep as clean as possible to reduce the chance of infection. He whistled as he reappeared with a bowl of water and an old, soiled flannel.
‘Move closer,’ he instructed. She shuffled, dragging the chain with her, until she was sitting on the edge of the bed with her feet on the floor. He kneeled in front of her, lifted up her nightdress and began to flannel down her stomach before moving on to her groin. She could kick him now, but what then? Run until the chain pulled her back? And then a beating, no food? He rinsed the flannel in the bowl and the water instantly turned a dirty brown. He reached back up and began to rub the top of her legs. ‘A bit of stubborn dirt,’ he said, scrubbing hard. He washed her legs, then her feet. ‘There. You’re all better now. Looking splendid.’ He dragged the dirty nightdress over her head, revealing her thin, naked frame, then grabbed a new flannel nightdress from where he’d dropped it on the floor. He fed it over her head, lifting her hair through once she’d put her arms in.
‘Thank you,’ Debbie replied.
‘I need you to stand against the wall while I make the bed.’ She whimpered as he pulled her to a standing position and led her over to the wall. The chain had reached its limit. ‘Wait there.’ He began to put the new sheets on the bed, followed by the coverless quilt. He threw the fleece blankets over the top and patted them down, smoothing out the lumps in the stuffing. ‘Lovely. See, I do care for you.’
Cold tears trailed down her cheeks as she fought the urge to break down. If she let her emotions out, he’d punish her. She wiped her tears away with the backs of her hands.
‘Do you want to swill your hands before I remove the bowl?’
She stared at the dirty water and shook her head. Her fingernails were black and her hands were gritty, but she didn’t want to plunge them into the filthy, bloody water. ‘Can I please have a shower soon?’ she asked.
‘I’ve bloody well washed you, what more do you want?’ he yelled, throwing the flannel to the floor.
‘I’m sorry. I need to be more grateful,’ Debbie said as she shuffled back to the bed. ‘Please don’t be upset with me. I didn’t mean anything. I know you treat me well.’
‘Do you love me?’
Debbie looked up at him. He walked towards her, sat on the edge of the bed and placed his hand under her chin. She nodded.
‘I know you love me, but you must say it. You know I like to hear the words.’
Debbie swallowed the mucus that had built up in the back of her nasal passages. She needed him to leave so that she could cry.
‘I love you,’ she said as she began to weep.
‘Why do you cry?’ He paused. ‘You wonder about me, don’t you? I went there today, to Luke’s house. There are things you need to know.’
Debbie felt her heart pounding as she hoped desperately for more information. If she asked, he’d know she was eager and that she loved Luke. He knew where Luke and her children lived, and she wasn’t going to put them all in danger now. ‘I don’t love him, I love you. I just wonder, that’s all.’
‘He doesn’t care. He has a new life, a new lady. I told you, he never loved you as much as I do. I did what you wanted though. The police have been given enough information.’
‘Thank you,’ she said as she slumped back.
‘Don’t worry, my love. We’ll have her back one day.’ He lay next to her on the bed and held her tight. Pain shot through her body as he squeezed her and kissed her tangled hair. ‘You’re the only person for me. If something happened to you, I’d never find another. That’s what makes our love more special. I love you more than life. I’ll never let you go.’
Debbie flinched as someone hammered on the door below. ‘Son. Are you in your office?’
He jumped up off the bed. ‘Don’t murmur a word. If she hears, she’ll go a little mad. She’s sick, you know. If you upset her, I may have to end her and that would be your fault. Nothing can come between our love. Do you understand?’
Debbie stared at him. He grabbed her hair. Wrenching her head back, he kissed her hard on the lips. She almost gagged as his tongue rolled around hers. ‘Do you understand?’ She nodded as tears spilled from her eyes.
‘Why are you crying? Stop it.’
Choking sobs spilled from her mouth, filling the quiet room. As he stood, he slapped her hard. ‘I said stop it. Or do you want another one?’
As her silent tears fell, Debbie shook her head.
‘Coming, Ma.’
‘Can you go to the shops? We have no bread,’ the old woman yelled. ‘Is there someone else there? Who’s there?’
He grabbed Debbie’s chin and squeezed. ‘Enough,’ he said as he pushed her back and left.
His smell was all around her, in her hair, in her nightdress, on her tongue. Even the stench of his acrid breath still hung in the air.