Holly ran into the hall, dropping the pregnancy test as the fire alarm sounded. Scurrying through the lounge, she skidded across the laminate flooring in her socks as she went to snatch the tea towel off the side. Heart thumping, she placed a protective hand over her stomach. There was no bump, not yet. It would be weeks before it showed, which gave her time to get used to how her life would change, if that was possible.
She opened the oven and spluttered as the smoke filled her lungs. Reaching in, she pulled the cannelloni out, almost dropping the brick of a baking tray onto the trivet. ‘Damn it,’ she yelled as the glass scorched the edge of her little finger. She was no domestic goddess and she knew it. She opened the window of her top floor apartment and coughed the smoke out of her lungs while the breeze circulated the fumes. The smell of herby garlic had been replaced by a nauseating acrid aroma. As the alarm hushed she placed her hand over her heart, willing the pounding to calm down. She’d only burnt dinner, no harm had been done – except to her finger. Without a doubt, there would be a blister there soon.
Finally she had the answer as to why she’d felt so yuck lately. At first she’d thought it was something she’d eaten. It started the night after she’d undercooked a chicken, around four weeks ago. Not realising it was still a little pink, she’d taken a bite. He’d spotted her failure much sooner, which is why he’d left her to clean up while he collected a pizza. Hours later they’d been laughing and rolling in her bed thinking nothing more of the chicken. She scrunched her nose as she recalled the next morning. That chicken had rendered her useless. She’d lain in bed, alone, clutching a bowl as the room swayed like a ship in a storm. It’s the chicken, she had thought. A day in bed will cure all. She’d then dragged the covers over her head and thought nothing more of it.
‘All this time it was you, little one.’ She smiled as she picked the burnt cheesy topping from the soggy pasta. ‘Saved. It’s just cannelloni without the white sauce baked on top.’ She emptied a bag of salad into a bowl. At least she couldn’t mess up a bag of ready prepared salad.
The intercom buzzed. As she hurried back through the apartment, she glanced in the mirror. Her red hair was still clipped up except for a few strands that had cutely escaped, just the way he liked it. The steam from the oven hadn’t smudged her mascara; she was good to go.
There was no way on earth the smell would go before he reached the top floor of the building. Her disastrous creation would be obvious.
She glanced at the floor and the pregnancy test stared back. She had to hide that for now, at least until he’d settled in for the evening. A smile beamed across her face. This baby was a chance for him to show her what he was prepared to do for love. She wanted a future with him and she wasn’t going to hold back. He had made so many promises; it was now time for him to act on them. This was just the shove he needed. He was finally going to be pushed over the edge, straight into his new life.
‘I see you burnt the dinner, Holly,’ he said as he entered holding a bunch of red carnations while locking the door behind him. Holly – he used her name like a full stop. She didn’t know whether his tone irritated her or turned her on. He sounded like a teacher who was about to go into detail about why she got a C instead of an A or a disgruntled boss who would follow with, here’s how you can improve your performance.
Swiftly slotting the plastic test into her pocket as he jokingly waded through the smoke, she took the flowers and flung her arms around his shoulders, looking into his eyes before pressing her lips against his. His hand veered down, almost reaching the telltale wand that had poked out of her pocket. She threaded her fingers through his and drew his hand to her breast.
‘This is a nice surprise. Who needs dinner?’ She felt his other hand slot into the back of her tight jeans before turning her around and pushing her against the wall. She swiftly pushed the test back down. ‘My God I’ve missed this.’
Laughing, she gently nudged him away. ‘Later, you. I need to get these flowers into a vase. Shall we have a drink?’
He followed her through to the kitchen where he took a bottle of wine from the rack next to the little table. ‘I think we’ll go for a Merlot. It should complement the burnt whatever it is you’ve been cooking up.’
‘Shut up.’ She playfully slapped him as she popped the flowers into a vase. ‘It’s cannelloni and I’ve rescued it.’ She smiled and bit her bottom lip, then gazed at him through her long eyelashes as she grabbed two plates and began dishing up. ‘Sit at the table, I’ll bring it over.’
‘Wine? Or would you prefer a beer?’
He knew she wasn’t keen on wine. ‘Nothing. I have a drink.’ She nodded towards the glass of lemonade she’d poured earlier. The blind fluttered as another gust of wind blasted through, bringing with it the smell of the chip shop on the high street. She pulled the window closed and swallowed. If anything would upset her stomach tonight, it would be the smell of battered cod mixed with burnt cannelloni.
‘You’re not joining me in a toast? One of my investments has,’ he paused, ‘well, I’ll just say that it’s been a good day in the hospitality sector. Can’t go into details as yet as I don’t want to jinx things.’ He picked up his fork, ready to eat.
She placed the plates on the table and lit the candle, heart humming away. First the baby and now the news about his investment. Everything was going seamlessly. She couldn’t have planned it any better. A lot of people would be hurt but as he’d often promised, they were going to move away and start a new life. Her whole existence over this past year had led to this. ‘Does that mean what I think it means?’
His shoulders stiffened. ‘You know I can’t make any promises just yet. Can we drop it, Holly?’
‘But—’
‘I said drop it!’ He slammed his fork onto the table knocking his wine over. ‘Look what you made me do.’
What was meant to be a special moment had just been ruined. The stick in her pocket that had only recently told her that she was carrying the much-wanted little life inside her was threatening to snap under the pressure as she tried to remain rigid and still. He looked through her with clenched knuckles.
He stomped across the floor in his brown leather brogues and began wiping the wine from his crisp fitted shirt. It must have been a big day for him as she was used to him wearing more casual shirts over jeans. Something out of the ordinary had happened but that didn’t excuse him talking to her the way he had.
With quivering fingers, she dropped the stick onto the table. This wasn’t the way she planned to tell him but he had to know. ‘Something has to change. I love you, but you can’t shout at me like that again.’
A tear spilled into her salad; the little droplet on the butterhead lettuce leaf twinkled in the candlelight. She wouldn’t look at him – she didn’t want to see his face as the realisation dawned on him. She was going to have a baby and that was a fact. The news was meant to be good but here she was crying into her dinner while he huffed and puffed over spilled wine.
‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have shouted. What’s this? Is this all a joke? Just tell me it’s a joke.’ He kneeled in front of her.
As she burst into loud sobs, she shook her head. Why couldn’t he be as happy as she was? It wasn’t as if they hadn’t spoken about their future and the fact that she wanted children someday. The only difference in the plan was it was happening sooner than expected and she needed him. She couldn’t do it all alone. One of his investments had obviously paid off. He could get rid of his business interests in Cleevesford and, that way, they’d never have to come back. All he had to do was take the plunge. All would be fine. He’d promised her that everything would work out.
She glanced up. There was no joy in his grimace and she knew she was going to have to go it alone. Why had she been such a fool? Everyone would laugh at her now.
‘Stop it, come on.’ He placed his arms across her shoulders and pulled her into him as she sobbed louder. ‘I said stop it.’
‘I’m having a baby, I can’t just stop it. Look at you. I’ve given up everything to be here all the time, lapping up your empty promises. This is your moment to show me what I mean to you and I get it. I finally see you for what you are. You only love yourself. Get out.’ She grabbed the salad bowl and flung the lettuce across his chest. She’d have her baby alone just like her mother had. It wasn’t how she’d imagined her future to be. ‘My only regret is wasting a year on someone like you.’
‘You can’t have this baby, you do know that.’ He flicked the lettuce away and stood. Veins pulsed on his temples as his stare bored through her. He didn’t scare her, he wasn’t the first or last man in her life who thought it was his way or no way. She was a little older now, wiser, and she was going to stand her ground. He could stare all he liked. She was having the baby whether he was in her life or not. Bad decision? Maybe. What she wanted? Definitely –bad decision or not.
‘I can and I will. My body, my choice.’ She stood and walked towards the hall as he hurried behind her. ‘Get out.’ She pointed to the door. Seeing him react so unreasonably had been a first and it was going to be a last. He would never speak to her in that tone again.
‘I’m going. Don’t expect anything off me if you’re not prepared to listen to what I want. I’ll be in touch about everything we need to finalise.’
‘Blah, blah, blah. It’s always been about you. I don’t know why I expected it would be any different. Just go.’ She wiped her nose on the back of her hand and watched him through the reflection in the hall mirror. The same mirror that had reflected her red curls bouncing as she’d excitedly answered the door to him only half an hour earlier. Her blue eyes were now rimmed with angry swollen red lids. She flinched as he caught her looking. ‘I said go or I’ll call the police.’ Her heart began to hammer against her ribs. Why wasn’t he going?
‘You think it’s that easy.’ He pinned her to the wall and gripped her throat, applying enough pressure to take her breath away. His fingernails drove into the back of her neck.
Gasping, she gripped his wrists but his strength had her locked in place. Every beat of her heart thumped through her head, louder and louder until her vision prickled. She could make out his grin, she could smell the wine on his breath and she shuddered as she felt his erection. She had been in a relationship with him for a year and it was at this point that she realised she knew nothing at all about him. He let go and she flopped to the ground, only having enough energy to protectively stroke her stomach.
He’d spared her.
She’d messed her life up the moment she’d waved at him across the bar in the Angel Arms all those months ago. She should have listened to her instincts telling her to stay away, that he’d be bad for her but he’d been her secret pleasure since. It’s not like she’d only just met him, she knew him well. From that moment on, she’d got to know him a lot better, in ways she’d never imagined possible.
‘You say a word and I’ll kill you next time. Did you get that?’
She stroked her neck, hoping that he’d leave so she could cry her heart out. She was about to lose everything and he knew it. She hugged her body, not daring to catch his eye before he left. That moment had told her all she needed to know. I’m a survivor. I’ll get through this.
His final words filled her head. I’ll kill you next time. A few more seconds and he would have killed her. She understood the warning, loud and clear as she coughed and gasped. Talk and you die.
‘Here’s to Kerry and Ed Powell, my beautiful daughter and my new son-in-law. This is for those of you who couldn’t make Crete, enjoy the open bar and let’s celebrate!’ The father of the bride passed the microphone back to the DJ. ‘Celebration’ by Kool & The Gang blasted out and more partygoers joined the happy couple on the dance floor. Not Holly though. She’d spent all day ditching her drinks in plant pots, down the toilet, even on a carpet in the corridor outside Brendan and Lilly’s room – that would be Lilly, the slimmer bridesmaid. The one who hadn’t cost her oldest friend Kerry a further sixty pounds in clothing alteration fees because she’d got pregnant.
She touched her stomach; stroking it would be too obvious. Was that a flutter? She smiled as it happened again. Kerry giggled in her huge multi-layered wedding dress as she and Ed danced, then Kerry’s gaze met hers. Only for a second, but maybe that had been long enough. Holly dropped her hands to her sides, leaving her stomach alone. Normally, an expectant mother would share this news and everyone would partake in the joy of hearing about her baby’s first flutter, but she couldn’t say a word. Her joy was also her burning shame.
Her baby was a secret. Her relationship was a secret. She was sick of secrets. No one had suspected a thing to date but her baby wouldn’t remain a secret for long.
The music blasted out. She didn’t feel like celebrating at all despite the happy dancers and drinkers surrounding her. The room had filled even more since the evening guests had arrived. She flinched as a group of men nudged her to get to the bar. As Samuel Avery, the landlord of the Angel Arms, pulled one of the guest ales at the secondary pop-up bar, he winked at her. She broke their eye contact. The other men at the bar began to shout and laugh, their rowdiness standing out from the crowd as they ordered a tray of free drinks. The father of the bride danced with his daughter as Ed pulled his new mother-in-law onto the dance floor. Francesca, one of the bridesmaids, re-entered the room and slowly turned in the middle of the dance floor, sporting a look that suggested she might be sick at any moment.
Hot and sick, that was how Holly was beginning to feel too. The venison followed by the lemon pie dessert was beginning to turn her stomach. She regretted following all that with the petits fours. A lot of things sickened her lately and the smell of fried onions coming from the hot buffet weren’t helping. She lifted the hem of her sage green satin dress and made her way to the terrace of Cleevesford Manor where she hoped that fresh air and the expanse of woodland beyond the stunning gardens would ease her queasiness. Claustrophobia and pregnancy had got the better of her.
Gasping, she backed onto the cold wall, the music thudding as Kool & The Gang faded into ABBA’s, ‘Dancing Queen’. Her life as she knew it would soon be over. Today had been a façade as she watched her friend commit to the love of her life. All this happiness would soon end. There were lies, lots of them and those lies were coming out soon and people were going to get hurt. She wondered if her friends would ever forgive her betrayal. She, Lilly, Kerry and Fran had named themselves the Awesome Foursome when they were at school. Was the end of an era on the horizon?
His words swirled through her mind. Say a word and I’ll kill you.
He wouldn’t kill her. He wouldn’t kill her baby. Words can be said in temper, they can be empty, and can be shouted on impulse. That’s all it was. He wasn’t going to kill her. Pinning her up against the wall was nothing more than an empty threat. Yes, he’d scared her, yes he was rough in bed, but kill her? People use that term all the time, they don’t mean it and that gave her comfort.
Holly turned her head as she heard a rustling in the distance. Two men emerged from the dark foliage at the back of the garden followed by someone she recognised all too well. So that’s how the extra guests were getting in. The whole of the Angel Arms were sneaking in for free drinks.
She flinched as the DJ’s microphone squealed. Tables started to crash and glasses smashed as the DJ switched to ‘I Predict a Riot’. Several men spilled out of the function room fighting as she ducked just in time to miss a flying bread roll. Kerry screamed as her mother, Alison, tried to pull her back. One of the buttonhole flowers landed at her feet as the scuffle passed by her. A carnation, just like those he used to buy her. She kicked it out of the way.
‘I need to speak to you, now.’
Where had he come from? She hadn’t heard him creep up on her.
‘Your room, half an hour.’
‘I’ve got nothing to say to you.’ Tonight wasn’t a good time. The last thing she wanted was a repeat of their last proper face-to-face conversation. He’d done a good job of keeping out of her way ever since that night in her flat. There was no way he was getting another opportunity to pin her to a wall and bully her into getting rid of her baby. He’d also taken his obsession with gripping her neck a bit too far – no longer was it slightly playful during their lovemaking, he’d gripped her like he wanted to suck the life from her. She rubbed the back of her neck, her fingertips touching the scar that he’d left.
‘You’re being stupid. We need to talk. Please?’
A gentle breeze filled the air, providing her with the clarity she needed. She was being stupid? It was he who had refused to talk any more about the matter of their baby. She glanced up at him, taking in his pleading expression. He wasn’t the man who’d been so angry at her apartment, he was the man she knew and loved. Maybe he’d finally seen sense. She brought her hands down from the scar. Maybe her baby would have the father he or she deserved. His hand brushed against hers as he checked over his shoulder.
Francesca stumbled out of the function room through the bi-fold doors, one arm outstretched and her other hand across her mouth. Looking at her, she’d already been sick once down her bridesmaid’s dress and Holly wasn’t going to stick around to watch what was coming. Seeing Francesca throw up would be the very thing that would tip her over the edge, no matter how soothing the breeze was.
The gatecrashers fought, the staff tried to break things up, the mother-in-law ran out and began yelling across the garden like a banshee, and Holly felt numb to it all. Could she trust him? That question was filling her mind as chaos broke out.
As Francesca turned, he shifted his position so that she would only catch sight of his back. ‘I’ll see you in a bit. I’m just going to sort out this mess and I’ll be up.’
Holly turned away from him, tearing a handful of flower heads from one of the table decorations as she hurried to her room. As she slammed the door behind her, she noticed the squashed carnation petals spilling from her clenched fingers. She sat on the bed and began picking out the petals and dropping them to the floor. Confused is how she felt. She’d wait and she’d see exactly what he had to say.
Half an hour had passed, then an hour. If he turned up, he turned up. She brought her knees up to her chest and pulled the quilt up to her chin. He wasn’t coming. She switched off the light and closed her eyes, ignoring the revellers on the terrace below her room. She applied a light amount of pressure to her stomach hoping her baby would move again, but he or she didn’t. The gentle beat of the music was hypnotic and soon she lost the battle with her heavy lids as sleep took over.
Heart in mouth, Holly jolted up in bed as a knock broke her dream. She almost tripped over her dress while stumbling across the unfamiliar room in the dark. She can’t have been asleep for more than a few minutes, at least it felt like that and the music was still playing. As she opened the door a white flash of pain filled her face. Through peppered vision, all she could see was the dark outline of a head, backlit by the fading light from the corridor. That soon disappeared as the intruder closed the door.
Her nose stung as blood sprayed out. Why had he hit her? He’d come to talk. She tried to focus but her eyes had teared up from the blow to her nose. Was it even him? She tried to focus but all she could see were blurred dark images. Another flash of pain hit as her attacker grabbed her wrist and thrust her onto the bed.
‘Don’t hurt the baby,’ she whimpered. Maybe he’d come to act on his promise. ‘Don’t kill me. I didn’t say anything.’ She had been naïve to doubt him. Another blow to the head came from nowhere. She had to get away.
Fight. Hit out. Thrash and run away. If only she could get to the corridor and shout like mad. Someone would wake up.
She opened her mouth to scream and her attacker thrust a pillow over her face, pushing hard. Winded by her attacker, she tried to wriggle beneath. Dark – she couldn’t open her eyes. Dry material that tasted freshly laundered filled her mouth, along with the blood that was slipping down the back of her throat, drowning her.
Trapped and voiceless, two feelings that she was more than familiar with.
Panic rose as she tried to gasp but her attempt was fruitless. The sound of her own heart booming filled her ears as she continued her interrupted dream. The one in which she was walking her newborn in the park and people stopped to say how beautiful she was. In her mind it was a girl. As she slipped away, she kept thinking. He wouldn’t kill her. He’d bring her around. Like at the apartment when he’d gripped her throat, it was just a threat.
The pulsating heartbeat in her ears faded as she slipped into another world. She strolled over to the calm lake, baby in her arms looking out at the ducks. Then it stopped, everything stopped for a second. It was as if time had stood still. No breeze, no trickling of water, the people stood like statues. What was happening? The shining sun got brighter and brighter, dazzling her, filling the whole landscape until she could no longer see as she entered her new serene world of nothing.
The sound of the ten o’clock news finishing filled the room as Detective Gina Harte pressed stop on the film she and her daughter, Hannah, had been watching. The NeverEnding Story had been Hannah’s favourite movie as a child and they’d both watched it a million times but it still brought a smile to their faces. Hannah was sprawled out on the settee, hand half hovering over the tub of popcorn.
‘I still love that film. It’s a shame Gracie didn’t get to see the end.’ Hannah pulled the settee throw over the little girl who had fallen asleep on the floor. Strands of her long light brown hair reached over the cushion and a trail of dribble slid down her cheek.
Gina smiled. ‘How’s she getting on at nursery?’
‘Good. She loves playing with the other kids. Every day I come home with another work of art for the fridge, which is why I brought a few over for your fridge.’ Hannah paused. ‘It broke my heart the first day I left her there.’
It had been well over twenty years ago when Gina had taken Hannah to preschool but it was a memory she’d never forget. Her little girl had immediately wanted to play with all the other children and Gina had hidden the lump in her throat and the tears in her eyes until she’d driven off to attend police training.
‘They grow up so quick.’ Gina paused. Her relationship with Hannah hadn’t always been this good but they’d been talking more over the past few months. ‘I’m glad you both came to visit. I mean it. It’s lovely to have you here.’
‘I’m glad you took some time off to be with us. Gracie always jibbers on about you. You’re her hero.’
A lump formed in Gina’s throat as she kneeled on the floor and gave her granddaughter a kiss on the cheek. ‘I don’t say it enough but you really have done a brilliant job with her. She’s perfect.’
Hannah uncomfortably looked away. Gina knew she struggled to take a compliment.
‘How’s Greg?’
Hannah bit the skin on the side of her finger. ‘Fine. Work is good. He’s got a job for a building company now. New builds. He’s away for the next week.’
Her smile was forced. Gina knew the effort it took to pretend. A smile that is natural takes little effort but Hannah had a grimacing line on her forehead and a smile that didn’t match it. The light twitch in her temples showed Gina that she was subtly clenching her teeth together.
‘So all is good with you both?’
‘Couldn’t be better.’ Hannah placed the lid on the popcorn and swung her legs off the settee before stepping over her sleeping daughter and stretching.
‘You know you can talk to me about anything.’
Hannah shook the crumbs from the snuggle blanket. ‘I don’t need to talk. Gracie and me, we’re happy. Greg is doing well. My job is good and now that Gracie is at nursery, I’ve upped my hours.’
Gin. . .
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