Chapter 22 #2
Giles leans forward, his hands forming a steeple to rest his chin on. As she’s suspected, this is serious, and Kimmy needs to brace herself.
‘Do you like it here?’ he asks.
She looks around. ‘Yeah, your house is lovely. Why?’
He smiles. ‘I don’t mean my house. I mean Silverleaf Heights. Do you like living here?’
She considers this. There will be a right answer and a wrong one, and the one she picks will determine the course of their conversation.
Kimmy clears her throat. ‘No, actually, I can’t say that I do.’
The smile vanishes from Giles’s face, and he stares at her. It’s funny how cold his eyes seem now, how quickly the warmth has vanished. But Kimmy doesn’t care. She’s told her truth, and she’ll stand by it, no matter the consequences.
‘And why is that?’ Giles asks. He doesn’t really want to know; he just wants to test her, to see how far she’s prepared to go with this.
‘Lots of reasons.’
‘Care to share them?’
No. I just want to get out of here. ‘I don’t trust you.
You seem to have this strange power over everyone.
No one ever stands up to you, or tells you to mind your own business.
You’re always watching us. Particularly me.
But I think it’s all of us you’re keeping an eye on. And I know the truth, Giles.’
His face darkens. She’s pushing it now, but Kimmy won’t hold back.
‘I went to see Moira in hospital,’ she continues.
‘You didn’t know that, did you? That I visited her a few times, near the end.
Moira knew she didn’t have long, and she told me there were secrets she had to keep to herself and it was killing her.
She said death would come as a relief. She said every day she hoped it would be her last, because it would be an escape. ’
There. She’s opened the floodgate now, and there’s no way to stem the flow. The truth will set us all free. Kimmy’s sick of the facade that everyone puts on. It ends now.
Giles stares at her, his eyes assessing her, laced with hatred.
And something else. Fear. But she doesn’t care; Kimmy has already been through the worst anyone can endure.
Physical abuse from the people who were supposed to take care of her.
She knows what it feels like to be detested by two people who should have had nothing but love for her.
Her mother and father brought her into this world and then couldn’t stand the sight of her, and Kimmy felt their hatred with every blow to her body.
Even now, with this indestructible fortress she’s constructed around herself, there’s a gut-wrenching tug in her gut to remember it.
Screw them all, though. Her parents. Xander. Giles.
‘What secrets?’ Giles asks, his face draining of colour.
She opens her mouth to admit that she doesn’t know; that Moira died before she’d fully confided in Kimmy. But Giles doesn’t have to know this. ‘I know everything. I know what happened—’
Giles grabs her arms, but she reacts quickly and kicks out, forcing him to let go.
But within seconds, he lifts his hand and smacks her across the face.
And when he does, instead of cursing at him or raising her voice, Kimmy laughs, despite her stinging cheek.
It’s a shrill sound that hurts even her own ears.
‘You can’t hurt me,’ she says.
‘But you’re wrong, Kimmy,’ he says, his eyes boring into her. ‘I can do whatever I want.’
She jumps up and runs, then. Giles Barton is not going to hold any power over her.
‘I know what you’ve been doing, Kimmy,’ he calls after her. ‘Secrets don’t stay hidden forever. And there will be repercussions.’
Later, she sits at Georgia’s kitchen table, forcing herself to join in the conversation with her neighbours.
Eleanor is in a good mood today, laughing and smiling, her eyes sparkling with hope.
‘We’ve just had another round of IVF and the embryo was implanted over a week ago,’ she says.
‘And I haven’t bled yet.’ She crosses her fingers. ‘Usually by now my period’s come.’
Georgia beams. ‘I’ve got a good feeling. I’m a bit psychic, you know. This time it’s going to work, El. I’m sure of it.’
Eleanor nods. ‘I think so, too,’ she says. She turns to me. ‘You’ve been quiet, Kimmy.’
Of course she would notice this when, normally, Kimmy fills every silence with idle chatter.
The more she talks, the less chance people have to ask her questions, to find out what’s beneath her surface, and what she’s run from.
‘Yeah, maybe I’m coming down with something.
’ She lifts the back of her hand to her forehead.
‘I’ve heard there’s a bug going around.’
Eleanor edges back. ‘Oh, I should probably stay away. Just in case. I don’t want to get sick and take any chances with this cycle.’ She rests her hand on her stomach as if there is already a viable foetus in there, and Kimmy’s heart aches for her, despite her own lack of maternal instincts.
‘Oh, no,’ Kimmy assures her. ‘I’m sure it’s nothing like that. I didn’t get much sleep last night.’
Georgia leans forward, studying Kimmy’s face. ‘What’s that on your cheek?’ she asks, frowning. Despite how much she likes to gossip, Georgia’s not the most observant person Kimmy’s met, so it’s a surprise that she’s noticed anything.
‘Just a rash, I think.’ Kimmy forces herself to meet Georgia’s gaze, to put some weight behind her lie. She’d tried to cover the evidence of Giles’s slap with make-up, but foundation never seems to stay on Kimmy’s skin.
Georgia seems to buy her excuse, yet instead of feeling relieved, a flash of anger sparks inside Kimmy.
She can’t let him get away with this, despite what he thinks he knows about her.
What she’s doing might be immoral, but it’s not illegal.
Unless you live somewhere like Silverleaf and Giles Barton is a self-elected president.
‘Actually, that’s not true,’ Kimmy says. The truth will set you free. ‘It’s not a rash. It’s a slap mark. I was struck across the face.’
Georgia gasps, and Eleanor gapes at her with her mouth forming an O. Kimmy notices that Eleanor’s hand still clutches her stomach.
‘Xander . . .’ Georgia says. An assumption, not a question. ‘Jesus, Kimmy. What happened?’
‘No, it wasn’t Xander.’
They both glance at each other, then stare at Kimmy. She may as well put them out of their misery quickly. ‘It was Giles.’
The room falls silent, and Kimmy can’t even hear the birdsong she noticed before. Her words hang in the air, a detonated bomb.
Georgia glances at Eleanor. ‘Giles? Our Giles? Giles Barton?’
‘The one and only.’
‘But . . .’ Georgia struggles to form her sentence; unusual for her. ‘Giles wouldn’t—’
‘It’s the truth, Georgia. He’s not who people think he is. The poor, grieving husband.’
Eleanor finally moves her hand and rests it on the table. ‘But why would he do that? I don’t understand.’
Kimmy should mention that he smacked her face because she’d kicked him, but she keeps that to herself. Giles went for her first, grabbing her arms. And men get away with violence far too often. ‘He did it because I dared to stand up to him.’
‘What do you mean?’ Georgia glances at Eleanor.
This isn’t going how Kimmy had assumed it would.
Maybe they’re not all the closest of friends, but she thought at least they would show some solidarity against male violence.
‘I told him Moira confided in me before she died. She mentioned there were secrets in their marriage. And that she wanted to escape. Given what he just did to me, I have to wonder if she wanted to escape from him. Maybe he was violent towards her.’
Both women stare at her, but neither of them speaks, so Kimmy does what she always does and fills the silence.
‘I visited Moira in hospital a few times, just before she died. We’d become quite friendly.
’ She clears her throat, nervous about telling Georgia and Eleanor this.
It feels like a betrayal of Moira, in a way that telling Giles didn’t.
No, that only felt like vindication. ‘She told me she was glad she was dying because it meant she didn’t have to bear the burden any more. ’
Silence. Horrible, tangible silence that throws Kimmy off balance, like she’s having an out-of-body experience. This can’t be real. And then it starts, and Kimmy knows instantly that everything is about to change in Silverleaf.
‘But what burden?’ Eleanor says. ‘What did she mean?’
‘I can’t tell anyone,’ Kimmy lies. ‘Moira . . . she swore me to secrecy.’
‘Giles wouldn’t have hurt Moira.’ Eleanor turns to Georgia for affirmation. ‘He’s the kindest man I’ve ever met. I think you’re wrong, Kimmy. You must be mistaken.’ Again, she looks to Georgia.
‘Giles isn’t who we think he is, Eleanor. And Moira was forced to keep his secrets. He didn’t like me knowing, so he hit me. As a warning, to shut me up. Doesn’t that prove he’s violent?’
Finally Georgia opens her mouth. ‘I’m sorry, Kimmy, but I find this really hard to believe. I’ve known Giles a lot longer than anyone here, and he’s just not that type of person. I think it’s Xander who hit you and you’re protecting him. Or . . . or . . .’
Lying is the word Georgia’s looking for. And with these words, Kimmy knows what she’s sensed all along: that she has always been an outsider here, no matter how hard she’s tried to fit in. She stands and pushes her chair in. ‘Time for me to go. Thanks for the coffee.’
Neither woman tries to stop her leaving.
That night, Kimmy lies in bed alone, the duvet pulled up to her chin.
The warm, summer-like day turned too fast to a cool spring night.
Xander is away on a business trip, and she’s grateful for the time alone.
He would just confuse things, jumble her head with his desperate need for her to be who he wants her to be.
Kimmy’s sure it was the idea of her he fell in love with, not the real person she’s never tried to hide.
She closes her eyes and thinks about how imperfect she is, how flawed. More than most human beings. But, as she’s planned, she’s doing something about that now. Making changes so she can breathe again.
Something taps lightly against the bedroom window and she jolts up in bed.
It was just a stone, nothing heavy. Nothing threatening.
She’s still on edge about Giles’s sinister comment about repercussions as she left.
She slides out from under the duvet and walks to the window, peering out into the darkness.
And there he is – in her garden, waiting for her.
She turns away and pulls on her dressing gown, then makes her way outside.