Chapter 36
Venetia
Five days earlier
“Close your eyes!”
Aimee was brimming with excitement. Venetia, sitting opposite her on the L-shaped couch, closed her eyes briefly.
Wary; just as she always was in her sister’s house.
Scrutinizing her face for bruises. Listening for the key in the door.
Rory didn’t like Venetia to visit, so she always called when he was at work.
But once, he’d come home early and she’d seen it in his expression as soon as he walked through the door.
Oh, he was polite. Perfectly cordial. But cold.
And Venetia could see Aimee tense, deflate, curl in on herself.
All too aware that she’d be the one to pay.
Later. When no one could see. Venetia had begged her to leave, so many times, and sometimes Aimee came close.
But she was always too scared. Knowing he’d come after her. Afraid it would make things worse.
“OK, open your eyes!”
Venetia looked. Aimee was holding up a piece of paper. It took her a moment to absorb what it was. A scan. A baby scan. Oh god.
Aimee’s eyes brimmed with tears. “Isn’t it great?”
Venetia stared. No words formed.
“Oh, Vee, please say you’re happy for me?” The tears spilled over. Not happy tears, Venetia thought; desperate tears.
She took her sister’s hands in hers, the scan clasped between them.
“How far along?”
“I’m—oh, hang on.” Her phone vibrated beside her on the couch. “Let me just check this message.” Aimee dislodged her hands to pick up her phone. Venetia watched as she read, watched as Aimee’s expression changed.
“That’s Rory, he’s left work early. He’ll be back in ten.” Aimee moved to the edge of the couch. “I should probably check on dinner. We can catch up again, I’ll fill you in properly…”
“Hold on, take a second.” Venetia grabbed Aimee’s hand again, kept her seated. “How far along are you?”
“Eight weeks.” She laid the sonogram image on the coffee table. “I went for an early scan because of…”
Venetia nodded. Because of the baby she’d lost when Rory pushed her down the stairs. Right here in their house, because she was moving too slowly. A terrible accident, they both said after. She’d tripped on a corner of loose carpet. There was no loose carpet. And then there was no baby.
“Aimee. Listen to me. You can’t stay. You have to leave him.”
“But he’s been so good since he heard the news.” Aimee smiled through her tears. “He’s being so gentle.”
“Of course he is. Until the next time you make the wrong dinner or wear the wrong top. Then what?”
Aimee glanced toward the bifold doors to the kitchen.
“Vee, he’ll be home any minute and I need to check on the shepherd’s pie.
I don’t want it to dry out. And look, I really think he’s changed.
He…he’s minding me, telling me to put my feet up.
” A small hesitation. “He even wants me to give up my job, so I can rest more. We’ll be tight for money, but he says he only cares about me and the baby. ”
“Oh my god, Aimee, you can’t give up your job, it’s your only bit of independence. He’s cut you off from all your friends. He’s tried to cut you off from me. The job is all you’ve got.”
Aimee looked toward the front window, then checked her phone. “It’s not exactly a great job though, when you’re pregnant. All the night-time events.”
“He just doesn’t want you working in such a social setting, meeting other people.”
“That’s not it. He’s been so different, so soft since the baby news.” Aimee’s eyes went to her phone. Rory would be here any moment now. Venetia knew she didn’t have much time.
“Aimee, he literally pushed you down the stairs when you were pregnant with the last baby. Nobody changes that much. He will hurt you again.”
Aimee shook her head but didn’t speak.
“You have to protect yourself and you have to protect this baby.”
This baby. Venetia didn’t mean to put the emphasis so baldly. Aimee flinched at her words.
“I know that sounds harsh, and I know it’s not your fault what happened the last time—it’s his fault—but you have to do this now for the new baby. You have to leave. Come stay with me. I’ll mind you. And I’ll mind the baby. We can do it together.”
Aimee eyed her. Venetia knew what the look meant.
“I’ve been clean for over a year, you know that.” This is almost but not quite true.
Aimee’s glance goes to Venetia’s arms, looking for evidence that her sister is telling the truth. But Venetia’s wearing a long-sleeved T-shirt.
“Trust me. Even at my worst, I’m a safer bet than he is.”
“But what about when you’re at work?”
Good, Venetia thought, she’s wavering.
“Felipe is always there when I’m at work, and I’m there when he’s at work—I’m still doing mostly closing shifts at Bar Four. We’re like ships passing in the night.” A smile. “You’d have on-tap babysitters.”
Aimee was quiet for a time. Venetia picked the scan from the coffee table and held it up.
“Aimee, do it for this little one.”
More silence. Venetia didn’t push her. Time ticked by, but she didn’t say a word. Aimee had always been like this, even when they were tiny. She needed to process, to decide in her own head.
Eventually, she spoke, her voice small. “OK.”
“OK? Really? I mean, OK, let’s do it. Let’s get you packed.” Venetia was off the couch and heading for the living-room door before Aimee could change her mind. “Where can I find a bag to pack your stuff?”
“No, no, no.” Aimee stood, waving her hands. “He’s due in”—she looked at her watch—“three minutes. If I start packing now, he’ll see the bag. Even if I hide it, he’ll know. He’ll find it.” Her voice quivers. “He can find anything.”
“Please, Aimee. I’ll stay here, I’ll look after you while you pack.”
“Tomorrow. As soon as he leaves for work in the morning. You come over, we’ll pack up everything I own. Bring your big suitcase.” A watery smile. “I’m not leaving without every single pair of heels. And you’re due in work soon, anyway, aren’t you?”
Her phone beeped and she glanced down.
“He’s sent another text.” Her brow furrowed and her mouth moved in silent words as she kept reading. She looked up. “He’s asking me something about a screenshot, some message that’s doing the rounds.” She shook her head. “God only knows what he’s on about, but you’d better go.”
“Aimee, please.”
The sound of a car door outside stopped her. Shit. Rory.
Venetia looked at Aimee. Panic slipped over her sister’s face.
“Vee, please, you have to go. He’s…he’ll…just go out the back. Go!”
Venetia stood in the living room. Not moving. She should grab Aimee now. Stand up to Rory, tell him what’s happening, march Aimee out the door.
She looked at her sister’s imploring face.
“Please, just let me do it my way. This is better, I promise.”
The sound of the key in the door.
“Please!”
Venetia slipped soundlessly through the bifold doors to the kitchen as Rory walked into the hall.
She turned the handle of the back door as Rory arrived in the living room.
She pulled it quietly behind her and crept around to the side passage.
Letting herself out through the side gate, she stopped only to sneak a look through the living-room window.
Rory had his back to her; Aimee was on the couch.
“See you tomorrow,” Venetia whispered, before slipping down the drive.
But she never saw Aimee again.