Chapter 51 Dorothy
Dorothy
Forty-Nine Years Before
Dorothy stood in front of Rene’s house. Her knees were shaking beneath her long skirt and not just from the cold.
She pulled the scarf further around her neck, to hide the bruise on her skin.
Bobby’s violent outbursts were getting worse, and she didn’t know what to do.
He hadn’t started hitting her until six months into their marriage, when, she supposed, the honeymoon period of them living together had worn off.
For the two years they had been courting, he’d been the model boyfriend, and she’d loved him with every fibre of her being.
She had been so excited when, on their wedding day, she finally moved out of her parents’ house.
She thought she’d burst with happiness. She’d thought she’d found her happy ending.
Her wedding day had been the best day of her life.
Bobby adored his big sister, Irene, and vice versa.
She was four years older than Bobby and was the only person he ever seemed to respect.
It was now obvious he had no respect for his wife.
In the years since Dorothy had met Bobby, she’d become close to his sister as well.
Rene was a chain-smoking, outspoken woman who took no nonsense.
Married to the cowed Edwin Fuller, who was several inches shorter than her, she definitely ruled the roost. She was childless by choice and, unlike Dorothy, hadn’t given up her post office job after she married.
Annette had advised her she must tell someone close to her what was happening.
Annette had become Dorothy’s closest friend since they met a few months ago, the only person who knew what was really going on in Dorothy’s marriage.
Annette had been through something similar and was struggling alone with a three-year-old son after her husband was arrested for embezzlement.
Luckily Annette’s family money was untouched, but Dorothy knew if she left Bobby she would have nowhere to go.
She didn’t have money like Annette. She didn’t have the same choices.
So, here she was. Hoping that Rene could talk some sense into her brother. She was the only person he ever listened to, after all.
The streetlamps had come on and their amber glow illuminated the ice crystals that crunched beneath Dorothy’s boots. She knew Rene’s shift would have ended now, and she blew on her hands, her breath clouding in front of her. It was now or never. She couldn’t lose her nerve.
She took a deep breath. The cold air hurt the back of her throat and she coughed. She swallowed down her nausea. This was her only option. She had no choice.
Slowly, her legs heavy and feeling like she was trudging uphill, she made her way down the front path and knocked on Rene’s door.
‘Give us a minute!’ she heard Rene call. The hall light flashed on. Dorothy blew on her hands again, her resolve seeping out of her like the heat from her body. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t do it. What if Rene turned against her?
Bobby’s power lies in the secrecy, Annette had said. She repeated it over and over in her mind, her heart thumping, her hands damp despite the chill.
And then Rene threw open the door, a terrifying figure in rollers and a dressing gown. Standing there she seemed to tower over the petrified Dorothy.
‘Dot, my love, what’re you doing here?’
‘Can I come in?’
‘Sure. I hope everything is all right with that bleedin’ brother of mine.’
Dorothy stepped over the threshold and Rene ushered her into the small front room. Edwin, thankfully, was still at the factory. He worked with Bobby but in a different department.
‘I’m just getting ready to go out,’ she said, tying the belt of her dressing gown tighter. ‘Meeting the girls. Sit.’
Dorothy did as she asked and watched as Rene perched on the arm of the settee and lit up another cigarette. She smoked even more than Bobby did.
‘What’s up, Dot? You’ve got a face on you like a slapped arse.’
Dorothy’s stomach somersaulted. ‘It’s Bobby.’
‘Bobby? What’s that brother of mine done?’
Dorothy slowly peeled the scarf away from her neck to reveal the angry purple bruise.
Rene’s eyes widened in horror. ‘He did that to you?’ The disbelief in her voice was clear to hear.
Dorothy nodded.
‘When? Why? What happened?’
‘He’d come home from work last night. I could see he was tired and stressed and we got into an argument – I can’t even remember what started it. It doesn’t … it doesn’t take much any more.’
Rene’s eyes bulged. She stubbed out her cigarette into a standing ashtray. ‘Are you saying this has happened before?’
‘Yes. Infrequently at first, but lately it’s more often.’
Dorothy held her breath, wondering what Rene would say. Would she believe her? She had to, surely. The evidence was right there in the bruising on her neck.
Rene closed her eyes and exhaled slowly. When she opened them she said, ‘Leave it with me, Dot. I’ll talk some sense into that thick-headed brother of mine. Don’t you worry. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got to finish getting ready.’
She stood up and almost manhandled Dorothy out of her house. She didn’t say anything more about it. She waved Dorothy away as though what she’d admitted had been nothing more anodyne than what she’d had for supper.
And she knew, somewhere deep inside her, that Rene wouldn’t help. Her loyalty would always be to her brother. She’d hoped for some female solidarity. She’d hoped that the feisty, straight-talking Rene would be on her side.
But now she realized she was on her own.