Chapter 54
BETH
Justin returns from the shower, his hair still damp. Droplets of water cling to the curve of his throat. I haven’t moved from my spot at the table. I’ve been contemplating my next move. How to extricate myself from this situation.
He walks past me to the fridge. The earthy scent of his aftershave I once found so alluring is cloying. It catches in my throat, making me cough. ‘We need to talk,’ I say.
‘Not now,’ he answers abruptly. ‘Later.’
‘No, Justin. Now. I mean it.’
He can barely give me the time of day. ‘I can’t.’ He opens the fridge, grabs a bottle of sparkling water and unscrews the top. ‘I have things to do.’ He takes a gulp of water, dismisses me with a flap of his hand and marches out of the room.
I follow him, limping, hating him for making me resort to begging him to spare me a minute. Shouting at him clearly hasn’t worked. He slips out of the back door. Blue follows us. ‘Justin. Please!’ I can’t keep up with him. I’m short of breath, and the pain in my leg is too much.
I surrender, withdrawing back indoors, out of the unbearable heat. Blue looks from me to Justin and back to me, as if unsure what to do. ‘Go,’ I encourage him. ‘Go with Daddy.’
The rage burning through me fires me enough to get upstairs. I head for the spare room, where I drag a cabin bag out from under the bed. It’s such an effort, but he has left me with no choice. It’s all over. I can’t stay here any longer.
I wheel the bag to our bedroom and lift it on to the bed.
I unzip it and pack the essentials I need to get by until I can navigate my way out of this mess.
I think of Hattie. Poor Hattie. I hate to leave her, but Justin has pushed me to the limits, and I must put myself first if I’m going to survive.
I swear this illness and his ways are going to beat me if I don’t do something.
I pick up a photo of Connor and me from my bedside cabinet.
It’s my favourite one of us, taken in a park one summer afternoon when he was ten.
I wrap it in a dress inside the bag. It’s the only photo I want to take with me.
Getting downstairs with the bag is a struggle. A pain in my chest now mirrors that in my leg. I’m getting weaker by the day. I stop every couple of steps to catch my breath, rasping. I’m making the right decision here. I should’ve done this years ago.
I find my phone in the kitchen and order an Uber to take me to the station.
I don’t know where I’m heading. I have nowhere to go.
Justin has made sure of that along the way.
I’ll get on the first available train and see where it takes me.
It doesn’t matter. I study the Uber app. Nine minutes, and I’m out of here.
‘Beth, Beth.’ The familiar sound of Hattie’s demands drift from the living room. I can’t deal with her right now. She appears at the kitchen door. ‘Come and watch a film with me. Please.’ Her voice is verging on a whine.
She won’t let up. The easiest thing for me to do here is to placate her and settle her with something she likes to watch.
I glance out of the kitchen window. There’s no sign of Justin.
I pray he stays away until the Uber arrives, and I make my exit.
‘Sure. Sounds fun, Hattie. Let’s do it.’ I’ll slip out once she is engrossed in the film. I’ll be gone in a flash.
I follow her into the lounge, where The Greatest Showman is playing. She’s watched this film so many times, I’ve lost count. The Greatest Showman. Just like her son. She pats the sofa beside her with one hand, clutching the remote control with the other. ‘Sit here, dear. Harold won’t mind.’
I do as she tells me, willing the Uber to hurry.
I check my phone to track its route. It’s six minutes away.
It feels like a lifetime. I’ll give it another couple of minutes before fetching my bag and going outside.
Then I’ll be gone before Justin comes back.
I check again. Five minutes. Freedom is within reach.
It’s empowering. I just need to get away before Justin comes back to the house.
Hattie sings along to one of the songs. Seeing her absorbed in the musical, I whisper, ‘I need to go, Hattie.’ I lean across and kiss her, surprising myself.
Such displays of affection don’t happen between the two of us.
I suddenly feel very sorry for her. I push the emotion away. I’ve got to think of myself now.
As I go to get up, her hand snaps to my arm and locks. ‘Stay, dear. We love this film.’
I try to pull my arm away. She’s not releasing it. ‘I’ve got to go, Hattie,’ I say, trying to disguise the anxiety in my voice.
It’s as if she senses something amiss. ‘Please stay with me. I don’t want to be alone.’
A car turns into the driveway. It’s here. My salvation. I tug my arm away. She clutches her chest. ‘Oh, oh, my heart. My heart.’
‘Not now, Hattie. I haven’t got the time for this.
’ It’s not the moment for her to play her games.
I glance at the window and back at her. A car engine is running in the driveway.
I manage to calm her with the promise of a cup of tea and a biscuit.
Guilt overcomes me as I stand up, but I’ve spent my life giving in to this family. Now I must go.
I hurry as fast as the pain will allow, into the hallway where I collect my bag. Limping, I wheel it to the front door, where I have to stop to catch my breath.
I open the door and stop in disbelief.
Justin is leaning into the Uber car window chatting to the driver. He glances over his shoulder at me and smiles. A smile that doesn’t reach those cold green eyes.
The Uber driver nods and raises his hand. Spinning his car around, he swiftly drives off, taking with him my only hope of escape.
Justin walks towards me. My shoulders slump at the look on his face telling me I’m beaten. He’s going to give me both barrels now. But oddly, he says, as calm as a priest taking confession, ‘Darling. You said we needed to talk. So let’s talk.’