8. Chapter 6
Chapter 6
Natalie
I stir the water and fish out a piece of pasta. Still too al dente. I crank up the heat on the hob, hoping it’ll cook faster. Al’s got cricket this evening and he’ll be starving when he gets back.
It’s been a week since Matt came to Greenview Manor, and I can’t get his words out of my head. I left his business card at work—I didn’t want Al to find it and get the wrong idea.
On my way home yesterday I drove past Matt’s house. Or at least I tried to. When I realised it was at the end of a lane and I had to do a three-point turn right outside his house I panicked. Luckily it was dark, so I don’t think he saw me. I don’t know what I had hoped to achieve anyway.
Actually, that’s not true. For a moment I thought I would ask him for help to leave Al. And then I realised how pathetic I sounded. Surely if I want to leave him I can just walk away.
There is the familiar sound of the key in the door.
“Dinner’s almost ready,” I call out. When there’s no reply my heart starts racing. This is not good. I suddenly have difficulty breathing but I force myself to go in search of him. Maybe he just didn’t hear me.
“Al?” I find him in the hallway hanging up his jacket. “Dinner’s almost ready.” I repeat.
“I heard,” is all he says. I head back to the kitchen, my tummy in nervous knots.
Turning off the hob, I drain the pasta before tossing it in the pan with the sauce. I’m about to call out for Al again when he holds his phone screen in front of me.
“Care to explain this?” His voice is ice cold and causes a shiver to run down my back. On the screen is a photo of Matt and me. Matt’s back is to me and I’m lifting his jacket. I know it was when I was grabbing the car key for him but the picture looks like I’m staring at his arse.
“I—”
“Nat, look at me,” he grabs me roughly by the face and turns me towards him. “Did we not have an agreement that you would tell me? Did we?”
“Yes, but—”
“Do you know how embarrassing it is when my cricket mates rub my nose in a photo of you and this fucking arsehole, claiming they saw you getting all cosy at the hotel?”
“He was just there to take care of a fawn.”
“Oh a fawn!” Al shouts. “And that’s why you were fondling his arse.”
“I’m sorry Al,” I plead. “I wasn’t touching him. He had his hands full and I was pulling the key—” The photo does look misleading, I have to admit.
“Give me your phone.”
“What?”
“Give. Me. Your. Phone,” he demands and holds out his hand. I pick my mobile up from the kitchen table and hold it out to him. My hand is shaking and tears blur my vision.
He keys in my pin to unlock my phone and scrolls through it. I almost sigh with relief knowing he won’t find anything.
“Tell me how you contact him.” Al looks at me and his eyes are not the eyes of a human. They look like an animal.
“I’m not. I’m not talk—”
“Natalie,” he shouts and throws my phone against the nearest wall with such force that it chips the paint. The phone lands on the floor with its screen shattered.
“Tell me now,” he screams at me.
“I swear, I’m—” An explosion hits my face. I lose balance and crumble to the floor. I feel heat spreading from where his palm made contact with my cheek.
“Don’t fucking lie to me,” he screams even louder, grabbing my hair to hold up my head and raining down more punches on my face. He hits my left eye and I think my lips at some point because I can taste blood.
“This is from him, isn’t it? This is why you won’t wear any of the stuff I bought you.” He grabs hold of my bookworm necklace and pulls until the thin chain snaps. He throws it across the room and finally let’s go of me but keeps shouting and screaming, calling me a liar and a whore.
I curl up on the floor. If I just let him vent, he’ll calm down. I suddenly feel a kick in my side and cry out in pain. That causes Al to stop.
He strokes over my back. “Babe,” he sighs, “I don’t want to hurt you. Next time, tell me. How can I protect you if you don’t tell me?” he asks. I don’t look at him and remain in a ball on the floor.
“Just tell me, okay?” His voice is calm now.
“Okay. Sorry,” I mumble and he gets up from where he was kneeling next to me. I hear him ladling some food from the pan and then the sound of football commentary. He must have turned on the TV.
I slowly uncurl. There’s blood on my hands and I’m not sure where it’s from—probably my mouth. My eyes scan the room, and there, under the table, is the little bookworm pendant. I quietly crawl towards it and as soon as I curl my fingers around it I know what I need to do.
“I’m going to take a shower,” I whisper, sliding the pendant into my jeans pocket. Al ignores me. I think one of my eyes is swelling up because my vision is narrowing but I can see Al on the sofa shuffling pasta into his mouth.
My side aches where he kicked me but I push through the pain, determined to make it out. I turn on the shower to cover any noise then head back to the hallway and carefully close the door behind me. I creep towards the front door, moving as slowly and quietly as I can. The living room is at the far end of the corridor so I should be safe—unless Al decides to get up from the sofa that is.
Every step feels like an eternity, and I keep stopping to listen for any sign of movement from him. I reach up and carefully lift the hoody hanging on the coat rack, using it to muffle any noise as I reach for the latch. Opening it is the easy part—it’s almost silent. But closing it from the other side is tricky; the snap of the latch would definitely give me away.
I grab one of his loafers, holding it in the same hand as the hoody before twisting the latch slowly, making sure the click is so faint that it gets swallowed by the noise from the TV.
Despite me wanting to fling the door wide and run for safety, I only open it a crack, slide out, and place the shoe carefully on the floor between the door and the frame. If there’s a draft the door will just thud softly against the shoe rather than slamming shut.
I head down the stairs. Our flat is on the first floor so it doesn’t take me long to get to the entrance to the building. Before I slip out into the darkness I pull the hoody over my head. I don’t have my car keys with me so I’ll have to walk but it shouldn’t take me more than thirty minutes to get to Matt’s house.
His is the only place I can think of going where I’d feel safe. I need just somewhere to hide for a night so I can decide what to do next. I have nothing with me. No money, no bank cards, no phone. I can’t just run off into the sunset, I need to be practical here.
As I rush down the street I pull the hood over my head to try to hide my face a little. I don’t want to know what I look like.
It won’t take Al long to realise something isn’t right when I don’t come back from the shower. Panic rises in me and I’m starting to feel sick. That thought alone drains all my energy and I consider turning back.
No. Not this time. Get to Matt. GET TO MATT!
I walk faster until I reach the beginning of his lane then I have to slow down because the road is steep. I arrive outside his house completely out of breath and have to hold on to the fence because I worry my legs are about to give out.
A few more steps. Just a few.
I slowly walk towards the front door. The house looks dark and empty. What if he’s not at home? The thought causes another wave of panic… and tears. For the first time since it all kicked off, there are tears rolling over my cheeks.
He has to be in. Please, please let him be in.
My hand is shaking as I reach for the doorbell. I hear the chime echo through the darkness. Then there’s just silence. I stare at the door, willing some movement behind the small glass panel in the centre.
Light. A light comes on and then Matt opens the door wearing tracksuit bottoms and a T-shirt, his face is all crinkled like he’d fallen asleep on the sofa.
He just stares at me and I stare back. What must he be thinking of me? Maybe I shouldn't have come. Matt takes a step closer and gently pushes the hood off my head. There are more tears rolling over my cheeks. I have my hands clasped in front of me to try to stop them from shaking.
Matt gently cups my face on the side that isn’t bruised, then bends down and lifts me into his arms before carrying me into the house. He pushes the door closed with his foot, locking all evil out.
I collapse against his chest and for the first time in a long time I feel safe.