14 March, 11.25 p.m.
I took two stairs at a time but I still couldn’t climb them fast enough. The higher I reached, the steeper they became, and by the time I reached the top, I was nauseous. I had wanted to be wrong and for the people behind the door to be two neighbours getting a thrill from having sex in someone else’s house.
I placed my hand on the bedroom doorknob and began to turn it. Inside came the stifled noise of two bodies colliding that did not belong together. I recognised the sounds of Catherine’s muffled groans the moment I heard them.
I stopped, removed my hand from the doorknob and the world fell silent. I clenched my stomach as a dozen invisible fists punched me over and over again. I didn’t need to open the door to know what was happening. All I’d accomplish would be to solidify a mental picture that would etch itself into my brain forever. So I left her and Dougie alone to continue my ruin.
I suppressed my tears and crept back downstairs, weaving my way through our friends, then snuck out through the front door and down the darkened lane towards the woods. I bulldozed my way through bushes and bracken before the moon’s glow illuminated a clearing. I threw myself on a fallen tree trunk, buried my head in my hands and wept.
She was the one who knew the most about me. She’d accepted all my insecurities and knew how important faithfulness was to me. She was the only one who understood how much emphasis I placed on honesty. It was her who’d encouraged me to believe not everyone was like my mother.
But she’d lied. It was all lies. She’d made the ultimate betrayal – and with Dougie, of all people.
I wracked my brain to work out how long I could have been oblivious to their poisoned coupling. Had it been weeks, months or even years? I thought back to the many occasions I’d returned home late to find him in the company of my family. My family. Not his. And tonight they’d decided to rub their relationship in my face, under my roof and in my bedroom.
How could I have been so mistaken about him? Everything I had presumed to know about Dougie had been a figment of my own imagination. The kiss he’d given me as a lad had been a foolish, one-off impulse. The covert glances he’d thrown at us over the years had nothing to do with unrequited feelings towards me – they’d all been directed at Catherine.
His willingness to cross such a sacred boundary horrified me. His desire for what was mine had more than likely directed his anger towards Beth. She and I were collateral damage in a war we were unaware we’d been fighting.
CATHERINE
14 March, 11.20 p.m.
We squeezed past everyone as I followed Dougie upstairs and into the bedroom. I closed the door and sat on the bed.
‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything,’ I began. ‘It’s the wine talking. I just wanted you to know that I understand and I’m fine with it.’
‘You’ve always known though, haven’t you?’ he asked, his forehead furrowed.
‘Yes, ever since school. It doesn’t matter though, because Simon’s lucky to have both of us who care about him so much.’
Dougie smiled and looked to the floor. Suddenly his face fell. ‘Yes, he’s really lucky to have someone like you, isn’t he, Catherine?’ His sarcastic tone took me by surprise. ‘Is that why you invite me over – so you can rub my nose in it? So you can keep showing me that you won?’
‘What? No! No . . .’ I stuttered. ‘Don’t be silly. I like spending time with you. We all do.’
‘Don’t bullshit me – I’m your charity case,’ he shouted. ‘You do it to feel better about yourself. I listen to you complain about how little time Simon spends with you, while you sit in your perfect house with your perfect children as your perfect husband works all the hours God sends to keep his perfect little princess happy. Except you’re not perfect, are you?’
I’d never heard Dougie speak to anyone like this and it made me nervous.
‘And despite everything you have, still you moan,’ he added. ‘But what do I have, Catherine? What do I have? Nothing. And whose fault is that?’
‘You can’t blame me for Beth leaving!’
‘I’m not talking about that stupid bitch. You know who I mean. You took away the only good thing I had in my life.’
‘What? Dougie, this is silly,’ I reasoned. ‘Simon never wanted you as anything more than a friend!’
‘And what makes you think you’re better for him than me?’
‘Because he chose me over you!’
Dougie said nothing and the room went quiet. I wanted to leave, and leave quickly. I didn’t know the man Dougie had become. He wasn’t my friend anymore. He was a stranger with a temper I didn’t like.
He glared at me with utter distaste as I stood up and moved towards the door, but he blocked my path with his arm. My pulse raced and I swallowed hard.
‘I haven’t finished,’ he growled. ‘What’s so special about you then, eh? What exactly does he see in you? ’Cos I’m fucked if I can see it.’
‘What’s got into you?’ I replied, trying to stop my voice from cracking.
‘You have. You get under my skin and you make it crawl. You deliberately hurt people, then you sit back and enjoy watching them suffer. You think you know everything about everybody, but you don’t. You make me sick.’
‘You’re drunk and talking rubbish. Now get out of my way.’
I tried in vain to push him to one side, but he wouldn’t budge. Instead, he grabbed my wrists and pulled his face close to mine.
‘You aren’t going anywhere, sweetheart,’ he spat.
Before I could struggle, he turned me around, twisted my arm behind my back and marched me towards the bed. I opened my mouth to scream for help but, before I could make a sound, he clamped his hand over it. Then he shoved me face down onto the bed. Instinctively I twisted and sank my teeth into his hand but he retaliated by punching the back of my head, dazing me. He gripped my hair and pressed my face into the bed. I kicked my legs but they wouldn’t budge under the weight of his body.
‘No, Dougie, let me go,’ I shouted, but my cries were muffled by the bedspread.
From behind, I felt him push up my skirt and yank down my underwear, then he pulled down his trousers before forcing himself into me. The searing, agonising pain felt as though he were tearing me in two. I shook, squirmed and fought, but eventually his brute strength pummelled me into submission.
His hot, foul, beery breath scorched the back of my neck. I wrenched my head to the side and tried to yell again but the pain made me retch, and I covered my cheek and the sheets with sick. Every part of me throbbed at the same time, struggling to eject the parasite.