Chapter 2
ELIZA
You shouldn’t have gone out.
She held the note, her hand hidden in her trouser pocket, as Howard prepared to leave for work.
‘Please tell me where Socks is,’ she said in a shaky voice. What had he done with him?
Howard sneered. ‘As I told you last night, if that bloody cat wants to come home, he will.’
After he left for the station, slamming the door, she collapsed into a kitchen chair.
Eliza prayed the cat who swiped at ankles and headbutted cheeks would return.
Her breathing slowed. Eliza went into the hallway and stood in front of the mirror.
Exhaling, she stared at the only person who could make her life better.
A determined look crossed her face. She brushed away the tears from her cheeks, her grief replaced with anger.
She called for Socks over and over, in the back garden of the bungalow with its colourful hanging baskets and the white picket fence that Howard had always dreamed of.
As usual, yesterday afternoon, her husband had gone down to the pub, leaving her cleaning and making his dinner.
Occasionally she’d build up the courage to creep out to have lunch with friends.
She’d save cash in small amounts where she could, a few pound coins here, a few there, to scrape enough together to pay for the meet-ups.
She’d got to know them during her very first job, decades ago.
Some now still worked, others busied themselves with grandchildren or travelled.
They would not respect the lies Eliza had told to maintain appearances; how she didn’t stand up for herself at fifty.
Howard had no idea about these precious outings.
Until yesterday. He’d forgotten his new phone and had wanted to show it off.
When she got back just after three, she’d looked in Socks’s basket.
His collar was lying there. She’d crouched down to pick it up.
When she’d straightened up, the scrawled note on the kitchen table had caught her attention…
She was about to give up calling her cat’s name and go inside, when a feeble meow stopped Eliza in her tracks. Heart thumping, she went over to the bushes at the side and lifted up the foliage.
‘Oh, Socks, my sweetheart, there you are!’ Relief rushed through her, warm and comforting, until he stood up and limped over.
She glanced at his foot. Several burdock seed heads stuck to his fur.
Those plants grew in abundance by the pond, in the little wood a street away.
Her cat could have got into a fight or fallen in a hole but in her heart, she knew how that leg had got injured.
Howard.
He must have dumped Socks in the woods. After he hurt him.
Gently she lifted him up and took him inside.
Being a tomcat, his territory was wide and she was grateful he’d managed to navigate his way back.
She examined his leg; it didn’t seem broken.
Eliza filled his water bowl and gave him a sachet of his favourite food that was more expensive than the supermarket’s own brand – another thing she kept hidden from Howard.
‘Sorry, little man, I let you down; I should have seen this coming. He’s swiped kicks at you before.
’ Eliza felt guilty in the way she often did when Howard acted out, as if it were somehow her fault.
It broke her heart how forgiving Socks was, purring loudly already, not blaming Eliza for not protecting him.
‘I promise what happened to you yesterday won’t be pointless.
It’s going to mean something,’ she said with a mettle that surprised her.
She left him eating and went outside for fresh air. Eliza imagined what life here would have been like without Socks. An empty void expanded in her chest; a realisation that…
Without the cat, her life with Howard… it sounded stupid but it… meant nothing.
How had it come to this?
Rubbing her forehead, she paced up and down across the lawn.
A striking pink camellia caught her eye.
One of Socks’s favourite sleeping spots was underneath it.
She’d planted it a few years ago. Howard didn’t stint on money for the garden; he wanted everything about their home to look impressive.
Eliza had learnt not to show enjoyment in an activity because then Howard did his best to limit it.
So she’d sigh when gardening and complain about the work, filled with joy inside at the smells and textures, at the insects that wriggled or marched across the borders with the independence she so longed for.
‘You all right, love?’ called a warm voice.
Eliza turned around. Retired Chelle next door gave her a friendly smile over the fence, taking a break from hanging washing, arms folded under her generous bosom. They’d known each other for ten years now. Chelle had stopped asking about the bruises.
‘Socks… He’s hurt his leg.’
Chelle’s face dropped. ‘Oh love. I’m so sorry to hear that.
Daring little thing. Always turns up at my back door when I happen to be eating a tuna sandwich.
Never can resist dropping a few flakes onto the patio for him.
’ Chelle reached out her hand, over the fence, as if Eliza were in prison.
Eliza went over, hesitated and then gripped it tight.
‘How did it happen?’
Eliza stared at the ground. ‘An… accident.’
When she looked up, a wave of something ugly had crossed Chelle’s face. ‘You deserve so much better, missus,’ she said in a low voice.
‘I don’t know what you mean,’ said Eliza, dropping eye contact again.
‘Can me and Dave do anything?’ Chelle asked, as she had many times before. She gripped Eliza’s hand even tighter.
‘Thanks, Chelle, but no. I…’ She lifted her head. Things had to change. They did. Not only for Socks’s sake. Eliza had just turned fifty and couldn’t, wouldn’t go through another decade of living a life like this.
A kick, dumping Socks streets away – what next?
‘Actually, there is. I… I don’t want Socks to get under Howard’s feet whilst…’ She took a deep breath. ‘I’m going away, you see. Not sure when I’ll move back. Could you possibly take him for one night, Chelle? I’ll call by tomorrow to pick him up. I’ll take him with me and somehow…’
Chelle’s eyes searched Eliza’s face. She held up her hand. ‘No problem. Call over the fence when you’re ready. I’ll be in the garden most of today.’
‘Just give me a few minutes. Thank you, Chelle. Thank you so very much.’
‘Would you like me to take him to the vet for a check?’
A lump formed in Eliza’s throat. ‘Oh yes, yes please. That’s so very kind.’
Eliza fetched the cat carrier from the shed and hurried inside.
Gently she put Socks in it and handed him over to Chelle with a bagful of food, his bed and the litter tray.
She went back indoors and looked at the clock in the lounge, on the wall next to a framed photo of Queen Elizabeth II.
Howard was a fervent royalist. Deep breaths, Eliza, don’t panic; he’s at the factory until five.
She packed the essentials – clothes, toiletries, a rare photo from her childhood that brought back happy memories; her mum’s wedding ring and her dad’s pocket watch.
It was a list she’d compiled many times in her dreams. After packing, she had time to go to the ATM down the road with the joint bank card she was only allowed on the day of the big shop.
Howard had no idea Eliza knew the hiding place for it, behind the loose brick on the right of the fireplace.
She drew out the daily maximum allowed – five hundred pounds.
There would be no point taking the card on her journey; Howard would track where she used it.
Eliza returned home and looked at the time on her phone – not a smart one; her husband wouldn’t allow her to have that.
Another two hours until he was home. He never left work early, not even that time when he came down with food poisoning.
Oh God. Her head hurt. Her chest tightened. She bent over, hyperventilating, in the kitchen. Was she really doing this? Taking a trip away from Howard, one she’d never return from? At least, not after she’d secretly collected Socks tomorrow. Would Eliza regret it? She had no idea where to go.
Maybe Howard would reflect at work today, and the man she’d fallen in love with would realise his behaviour had hit a new rock bottom.
But an image of Socks, her closest companion, alone at the pond, with a hurt leg, away from his treats and snuggles, came into her head and her jaw stiffened.
She stood up straight. Enough was enough.
Eliza chugged back a glass of water and slipped on her padded anorak, hands trembling too much to do up the zip as she stood next to her bags and took stock.
Right, off to the post office first. They’d know where the nearest Citizen’s Advice Bureau was – perhaps they could help – and then…
It happened so quickly – the front door opening, an angry shout. Howard home early again? No, no, no! He went into the lounge first and then appeared in the kitchen, the bulbous nose, the straggly eyebrows, sweat on his brow as he grasped the brick from the fireplace.
‘What the hell do you need five hundred pounds for?’ he bellowed as Eliza cowered against the oven. ‘I checked the account after your little jaunt yesterday. We’re not spending my hard-earned money on that bloody cat, at the vet, and…’
The hairs stood up on the back of her neck as he stopped talking, looked at her suitcase, and his face hardened.