CHAPTER 20
Jess stood in front of the mirror in her room looking at her pallid skin. She had finished her cleaning just before nine but instead of going for her usual walk along the canal, she went straight back to her room to examine the items Trish had left her and was excited about trying them out.
There was a bottle of Ennui perfume, almost full, a scarlet red lipstick, mascara and some foundation. She sniffed the perfume bottle carefully, judged it perfectly pleasant and dabbed a spot or two behind each ear. Then she smoothed some of the foundation into her cheeks, which bronzed up nicely, and finished off with the lipstick. She decided to leave the mascara for today as she wasn’t used to it and didn’t want to make a mess. A good brush of her long brown hair and she was finished.
She examined herself in the mirror. Transformed. She felt good about herself in a way she had not felt for a long time. Self-esteem a new concept. She decided she would start her shift early today. There was always something to do setting up for the day’s trading.
Still in her tee shirt and trousers she stood behind the restaurant bar facing the wall-mounted bottle racks and decided to slice some lemons to make things easier for the bar staff later on. Dave kept his distance at the other end of the bar, performing his morning ritual which involved drinking coffee and flicking through the The Sun. They had exchanged pleasantries but were otherwise quietly getting on with the task at hand. Trish strode in from the kitchen wearing a shoulder bag and broke the silence.
“Right, anything else we need?” Dave looked up from his paper.
“It’s all on the list,” he said with mild irritation, nodding to a piece of paper on the back bar near Jess. Trish ignored him and picked up the list.
“I’m just off to the bank and then the Cash & Carry to get a few things,” she told Jess. “Ooh, you smell nice. Is it okay?”
“Yes, thanks,” gushed Jess.
“And that colour really suits you.” Jess couldn’t help smiling broadly at the compliment. But Trish was on a mission and didn’t have time to stop. “Make sure you take it off before service though, we don’t want to give the punters the wrong idea,” she said, walking the length of the bar and around the other side.
“Yes of course,” said Jess.
Trish stopped briefly to kiss Dave on the cheek, and Jess was amused to see him look puzzled and vaguely disturbed.
“See you later.” Trish threw her bag over her shoulder and strode out of the pub, pulling the door behind her.
Dave briefly returned his attention to his newspaper. It was only when the outside door clicked shut that he looked up and down the bar to where Jess stood, still slicing.
He closed his paper and sidled around the bar, nonchalantly adjusting bottles and spirit measures and feigning inspection of the bottle fridges until he was standing right behind her.
Jess was so absorbed in the task at hand, she hadn’t paid much attention to him. Dave wrinkled his nose a little and smiled. He leant forward until his nose was as close to her hair as possible without touching and sniffed gently. She froze.
“You do smell nice,” he whispered, moving his head closer until she could feel his nose against her hair. “Reminds me of one of my old girlfriends,” he went on, putting his hands on her waist and pressing his body against hers, jamming her up against the back bar. The knife slipped in her hand and the point stabbed the other, but although the blade was sharp, mercifully the point was blunt.
“Dave, careful, I almost cut my finger off.” She tried to sound calm, but the fear was now gathering pace as she felt his hands moving on her hips. As their bodies made contact, she could feel that he was hard. “Dave, what are you doing?” His breathing had started to get heavier and he was moving his body around against hers. She tried again but she was beginning to panic. “Dave … don’t.”
“Aw, c’mon Alice, I just want you to know how much you’re appreciated.” He was breathing steadily, deeply inhaling her fragrance as he buried his mouth in her neck. He moved his hands around to her belly and started to massage gently while continuing a slow gyration of his hips. She could feel the breath on her neck, the smell of stale coffee and her own palpitations combining to make her feel nauseous, while her own breath came in fits and starts that she couldn’t control. She had to think of something to distract him, to make him stop, because she was pinned to the counter and soon the panic would overwhelm her. She blurted out the first thing that came into her head.
“Where’s my bonus?” she gasped, and his grinding motion stopped. He sighed.
“Ah, I get it. Want your bonus, eh? Well, you wait there. And,” he said with menace, “don’t move.” He released his hold, stepped back and marched off down the bar towards the office.
Jess heard the click of the door and realised she had been holding her breath. She let it out with a long sigh but then her breathing resumed its erratic pattern and she could feel her heart pounding. She tried to force her brain to think. She could scream and cry for help, but that would destroy everything. Everything she had worked for over the last few weeks. And all for what? Just because this bloke had the hots for her. She should be able to manage this without damaging her own situation. Jade had done it. Why couldn’t she?
***
Dave punched the security code into the office door, threw it open and knelt down in front of the safe. Feverish and sweaty with anticipation, he fumbled with the digital lock, getting the number wrong twice before the dial turned, releasing the large door handle. The little minx, he thought to himself. She knows what she wants, all right, and he was pleased his strategy had seemed to work. Far easier to slip them a few quid than try to wear them down with his charm, wit and repartee. On the other hand, he had been enjoying the chase and he wasn’t ready to catch his prey just yet. He would have preferred that she resist a bit more, but then time was not on his side, so best get on with it. And that coyness in the bar the other night. She’d been playing him for a fool, winding him up so she could get her hands on some more money. So be it. He swung the safe door open and grabbed five twenties. He’d have to think of something to cover the shortage because Trish was bound to check, but that could wait. He was in a hurry.
***
Trish sped her small Alfa along the dual carriageway towards town, tapping the wheel to the music playing on Radio 2. She had surplus cash to lodge with the bank and was then going to call into the Cash & Carry to get some dry goods and cleaning supplies they needed urgently in advance of the next scheduled delivery.
The sun was out and she was pleased to get away from the bloody pub for an hour or so. She could never imagine doing anything else for a living, but running a pub and restaurant was all-consuming. She and Dave had not had a holiday in five years, and although their relationship had soured a bit recently, she was still fond of him. If only he wasn’t such a letch; but then that was what attracted her to him in the first place – although in those days, the word was “charm”.
Letch was a word normally ascribed to older men, those who had no right to be attracted to or to lust over younger women. Good job he was basically a coward, and any girl could deal with him easily if they had the confidence. She knew about the incident with Jade and she was not the only one; she suspected that Katya’s decision to walk was based on more than just “banter”, as he had claimed. But hey-ho, she had got Alice instead. She was a much better worker and, so far, he had shown no interest in her, so that was fine.
The radio was playing a song about money and she joined in singing the lyrics and tapping the steering wheel. She trailed off. Money! She had forgotten to bring the bloody money. Left it in the safe. “Bollocks,” she hissed, and scanned the road ahead. She would have to go back. There was a roundabout coming up. It would only take her ten minutes.
***
Jess had done as instructed and stayed where she was. She was paralysed in fear, her mind racing, trying to work out what to do. She had to get away from him. But how? Where? Her room? She could lock it from the inside and she would be safe until Trish got back or the others came down for work. Then she could pretend nothing had happened, and she would tell him in no uncertain terms that she was not interested. And if he persisted then she would have to tell Trish. Let me know if he bothers you. She thought it was a plan, of sorts. She took a deep breath and started making her escape.
Too late. She hadn’t even reached the end of the bar when Dave reappeared. She turned away from him as he approached, a lascivious smile on his face, and she stood at the front of the bar by the sink. He smiled broadly and resumed his position behind her. She saw, in her peripheral vision, his right arm raised in the air and she looked up. He was dangling some twenty pound notes over her head, grinning. She looked up and went to grab the money, but he pulled it away and snorted.
“Have to be quicker than that!”
He dangled the wad again and chuckled with delight as this time, he let her take it.
Fear and anger and hurt were taking hold but she stuffed the money into her trouser pocket and stood there, waiting. He wrapped his arms around her again and pressed his body hard against her, jamming her against the sink so she couldn’t move.
“Now, say ‘Thank you, Dave’,” he whispered in her ear as her face twisted with indignation and shame.
“Thank you, Dave,” she mumbled. But his hands were still wandering, and he was pressing his hips rhythmically against her. He slid both hands under her tee shirt and his touch made her flesh creep as one hand started moving upwards, the other just as slowly in the opposite direction. His right reached her bra and he squeezed her breast while his left slipped under the waistband of her pants. But then, as she squirmed in his grip, he whispered and moaned in her ear. “You’re a good girl, Alice.”
The words hit her like a thunderbolt. You’re a good girl, Jess, a gooooood girl. She went rigid and the adrenalin surged through her body, igniting the memories, the bad memories of years ago.
“Aaaagh!” she shrieked, and with all her strength, pushed back against him with a force that made him loosen his grip and sent him crashing into the back bar. She took three steps towards the door and then stopped, panting, head bowed, chest heaving, exhausted, and bewildered that her legs would not carry her away.
Jess stared at the exit door, the way out, upstairs, to safety, a sanctuary of sorts, but still she could not make her legs move. She was overcome by self-doubt, humiliated by her own stupidity and unable to rationalise what had happened, what was really at stake. And while her mind tried to understand the ramifications and the options open to her, her legs remained steadfastly glued to the floor. She realised he must have seen her hesitate and decided it was not over yet when she heard his words, laced with menace, the usually affable Dave reduced to a contemptuous sneering animal, high on infatuation and desire.
“Well, well, well,” he snarled, “so the mysterious Alice has a little bit of personality in her after all,” his voice heavy with sarcasm and fury, spoken to her back, her heaving shoulders. “You can’t go leading a bloke on like that,” he lambasted her.
Her breath stopped. She could not comprehend him, absorb or accept what he was saying. Leading him on? She managed to summon the energy to respond, her voice quivering as she spoke.
“I didn’t … lead you on,” she said, the words coming out hesitantly in shock and surprise. She kept her back to him, but she started shaking again.
“Oh, I think you did. What was that make-up and perfume all about, then?” he mocked her. “Who was that for?” Jess contorted her face in disbelief. I was trying to seduce him? She turned slowly to face him. He was sweating, his eyes twitching and quivering with rage.
“That was … for me,” she said. I did it for me. To make me feel better about myself. To make me look nicer and make me more confident. To do what normal young women do and make the best of themselves. Like wearing nice clothes, and nice shoes and wearing jewellery and having nice nails and styled hair. It’s obvious, isn’t it? Why is it not obvious?
“For you? Leave it out. I know what you are, parading yourself down here like a little tart.” Her eyes widened in outrage and her face convulsed at the slur, but she couldn’t speak. “You’re just a little tease, that’s what you are. We don’t want none of that around here!” One finger jabbing in her direction, chastising, attacking, threatening. She stood, mouth agape, ready to burst into tears, but she was too frightened and upset at his tirade to do anything.
“Now then, I’m going to give you a second chance, because that’s the sort of bloke I am.” She sensed a glimmer of hope and waited for him to continue, but she could see he was still angry from the sweat on his shirt and the look in his eyes. “You can either pack your bags and get off back down the towpath,” he said, gesturing with his thumb to the world outside, “or you can stay here. And be nice. Which is it?” He spat out the last few words. She stood transfixed, trying to assimilate the proposition.
Why am I to blame? What did I do? How did it come to this? Everything was going fine until this morning, and now I’ve committed some cardinal sin which might see me back on the road to … nowhere. I just don’t understand. But I can’t go back. I have to move forwards. There has to be a way. I have to stay. But at what price? Maybe I just say sorry for upsetting him, that it was all a misunderstanding and I definitely won’t touch the make-up again. A lesson learnt. Yes. That’s it. Experience. I flew off the handle. I misunderstood. It’s all my fault.
She looked at him and he was staring her down, waiting for her reply.
“I want to stay,” she said finally, crushed.
“And be nice?” She felt he had seen through her and was taunting her.
“Yes,” she conceded.
“Nice to me?”
Then it all dropped into place.
The perfume and make-up was just the start of it, she thought. It wound him up. Maybe I did it deliberately? Who knows. Then I asked for money. What else is he supposed to think?
A calm came over her. She was back where she belonged.
I provoked my father and when it got too much for me, I punished him and fell into bed with Mo and when it got too much for me, he disappeared. And now I’ve provoked Dave and it spiralled out of control and I spurned him. Men can’t be treated like that. It’s not fair and it’s not what they are made of. They have needs. It’s not their fault. It’s mine. Anyway, it’s only physical. As long as he doesn’t hurt me, it doesn’t mean anything. What’s the big deal? I’ve been here before and I’ll be here again. That’s the way it is. It’s normal. It’s me that isn’t normal.
Without saying another word, she turned and slowly walked to the door connecting the bar to the kitchen and staff quarters. She was calm now. Collected. Get it over with.
She turned back to look at him and he was staring open-mouthed at her, breathing heavily, nostrils flaring, bursting with anticipation. She lifted her chin up in defiance, fixed him with a steely stare, and he seemed to wither. Then she turned and slowly exited through the door.
Dave watched as the door closed behind her and he could see through the glass panel that she had turned left. Upstairs. He was feverish with lust and excitement. The bitch flirts with him, then pulls away, pretending to have no interest in money. Then she tarts herself up and flaunts it in front of him and demands money when he tries to move in. Then she changes her mind, takes his money and tries to get out of it. She knew exactly what she was doing and he was angry. But he was turned on and he would have satisfaction. He gulped loudly and checked his watch. Trish would be another forty-five minutes. Now or never.
***
Jess sat on the end of her bed, subdued, staring out of the window but not seeing. She was thinking about the lunchtime session. They were two waitresses down today, so she would be busier than usual. Lots of bookings tonight, too, so it’d be a long day. She’d stick with it and work hard and things would get better for her. She could do without this distraction, this annoying intrusion into her regime, but it was just part of the job, part of the routine. It had been part of the routine all her life. She knew her place. She accepted it. That was just the way it was for women: to do what men wanted.
The door creaked open and Dave stepped gingerly into her room. He closed the door and she slowly raised her head and looked up without expression as he moved towards her. His eyes were wide and manic and he was twitching and clenching his hands as if he didn’t know what to do with them. Maybe, she thought, he imagined she would already be in bed waiting for him. But she didn’t know exactly what he wanted.
He stepped forward briskly and pushed her onto the bed where she flopped flat on her back. He dropped to his knees and his hands fumbled with the button on her trousers.
***
Trish was one minute away from The Navigation when she encountered a problem. A bus and a large lorry were having a stand-off just before the canal bridge, causing a tailback of traffic on both sides, and she was a hundred yards behind in the queue, tapping the wheel impatiently, wondering how long it would take to clear. The frustrating thing was she could see the pub. She just couldn’t get there. She considered abandoning the car and walking the rest of the way; it would be quicker, but then there was nowhere to leave it and she still had to get to the bank. She stabbed at her phone, mounted on the centre console. Dave could get the banking bag out of the safe and tell someone, Alice maybe, to bring it to her. Then if she could turn round, she could get on her way. The ringtone played out through the car speakers. Once, twice, three times, four and then she heard a familiar voice. Her own.
“Thanks for calling The Navigation—”
“What?” she shrieked, her frustration getting the better of her. “Where the hell is everyone?” She shouted at the pub pointlessly through the car windscreen. I can’t leave him alone for five minutes! What’s he doing?
But then the car in front of her moved and she cancelled the call, muttering angrily under her breath. “Just wait till I get in there.” Within a minute, she was pulling into the car park, bringing the Alfa to an abrupt stop, its front wheels skidding briefly on the gravel. She leapt out of the car. She was now half an hour behind schedule and irritated at herself for being foolish and wasting time. She walked briskly up the ramp to the side door.
***
She knelt on the bed, naked from the waist down, face flat on the duvet which she gripped with both hands, and he was inside her, thrusting frantically, groaning and sweating with the exertion.
She was elsewhere. Serene, calm, disinterested, unmoved by this loveless, animalistic, physical act of no importance, this primordial human function bereft of humanity. She had been here before.
She’s been alone for three days now and Mo has only called once to tell her to take a suit to the dry cleaners, and she’s gone to bed but the flat is deathly quiet and all she can think of is cleaning the kitchen again tomorrow, because there is nothing else to do, but then there’s a noise and she’s frightened but before she knows what to do, the bedroom door opens and it’s Mo and she tries to get up and hold him because he’s back, but he ignores her and doesn’t say anything and then she’s flat on her back and he’s half-naked on top of her and it’s not pleasant like it used to be and she’s calling his name, ‘Mo! Mo! You’re hurting me …’ but he carries on and then turns her over and he carries on and it hurts and she’s crying but he grunts for a while and then he lets out a big breath and suddenly he’s a dead weight crushing her, they lie still and then he gets off her and puts his clothes back on and leaves without a word and she turns over and goes back to sleep … her job is done again.
It would be over soon and she could get back to work, and Dave would move on to someone else. They all did. She heard his breath convulsing as his gasps reached a crescendo and for a moment thought he might expire, but then, in the background, another sound, a cry, a call she recognised.
“Dave?” Trish shouted as she strode through the deserted bar. She was mad as hell to find the door unlocked, and no one about, so anyone could have wandered in and nicked a bottle or two. The first thing she was going to do was find her feckless husband and give him a good slap. “Dave?” she shouted again, and headed for the door at the end of the bar. The sound penetrated the ceiling and reached the rooms above.
“Uh?” Dave froze. Then realisation hit and he panicked, slamming into reverse gear. Within a second he was stumbling over his pants, trying to pull them up and run at the same time like a kid in a sack race, and crashing out of the door which swung open, hit the floor stop and bounced back to slam with a loud bang.
He raced along the corridor and down the stairs, desperate to make progress, and equally anxious to be as quiet as possible. Halfway down he stopped, trying to work out where Trish had gone, but when he heard someone punching in the digital code to the office door, he finished tiptoeing down the stairs.
To his left, he could hear the clunk of the safe door, so turned right and re-entered the bar, still re-buckling his belt and tucking in his shirt, to take up position at the far end of the bar on the floor in front of a bottle fridge. He dropped to his knees, ripped open the door and pulled out several bottles.
Jess had stifled a cry at his clumsy withdrawal, flopped forward and remained motionless on her front. She stayed there for a moment, wincing at the burning sensation, her mind replaying. Hearing Trish’s voice had interrupted her thoughts, had triggered something inside her, and she was momentarily unsure where she was or what she was doing. What just happened? Was that just a dream? She took a moment to gather herself and then reality struck her like a slap on the face. What were you thinking? She suddenly felt alone again. Manipulated, subjugated, abused, terrorised, violated and ultimately discarded. By them both.
Trish had warned her what he was like … Watch yourself … but had given her the perfume … You smell like one of my old girlfriends … and then left them together, left her to her fate. There’s no such thing. Had she not imagined for one moment what the consequences might be? Did Trish plan this to test her and catch him out?
She felt betrayed and lost and lonely. She dragged herself up to a sitting position on the end of the bed and swept back her long brown hair. It was over. There was no going back.
Her life here in this place was as pointless as it had been before she arrived, as futile and worthless as it had been back in Wellingford. Everything Jess had discarded and run away from had been here waiting for Alice, and Alice had failed just as Jess had failed. She felt totally drained, sapped of energy and will. She had made a terrible mistake and paid the price, again.
And then, as she contemplated the hopelessness of her situation, she heard from deep within her soul a calling, an exhortation, a demand to take responsibility and act. She crossed both arms and grabbed the bottom of her tee shirt, lifting it over her head, using it to dry between her legs, grimacing, repulsed, cleaning away the violation. She tossed the sticky crumpled tee shirt into the corner of the room. No more.
He was just in time. Trish marched back into the bar clutching the money, looking flustered.
“There you are!” she said. He stood up and did his best to look casual and nonchalant despite his heart beating twenty to the dozen.
“Hello, love. That was quick?” Trish slapped the wallet down on the bar top in frustration and put her hands on her hips.
“Only forgot the bloody money, didn’t I?” Then, noticing that he looked a little discomposed, she said, “Are you all right?”
“Me? Yeah,” he said offhandedly, but it came out as a squeak and lacked conviction.
He could feel sweat on his brow and under his arms and hoped she didn’t notice. She was looking at him strangely, so he turned back to the bottle rack on the wall and aimlessly started to rearrange them. But from the corner of his eye, he saw Trish turn her attention to the space on the bar where Alice had been slicing lemons. She was frowning. The job had been abandoned; half a lemon and one or two slices on the chopping board next to the knife. She was looking puzzled.
“Alice gone out?” Dave had to think fast.
“Gone upstairs, I think.” His insouciance was impressive, he thought.
“I wondered whether she’d like to come with me. I’ll go ask her.”
She had travelled only two steps before he turned and blurted out, with rather more urgency then he intended, “No!”
Trish stopped in her tracks and turned her head to look at him. He needed to justify his outburst, and without time to prepare a plausible explanation, embellished the lie with another.
“She said she wasn’t feeling well, went for a lie down,” he said cautiously, willing her to swallow it and walk away. He tried to remain composed, but the sweat tingled in his armpits and he felt it drip down his side. Trish may indeed have swallowed it, but it made no difference.
“Oh, I’d better go see if she’s okay, then.”
“NO!” He calmed himself, wiped a hand across his dry mouth, deciding she needed be reassured with another lie. “She’s okay. Just a headache,” he said, following it up with a shrug of indifference.
“Oh. Okay.” Trish appeared concerned, looking like she was thinking through the options, and he waited nervously for her to reach a conclusion. Which she did. “Well, I’ll be off then.”
He was just about home and dry. When she’d gone, he would go up and see Alice, check she was okay and explain to her what she had to say when Trish got back. Who knows? He may even get second helpings. She hadn’t really participated, and he had had to do all the work himself, but it had been worth it. Once she had acknowledged who was in charge, any resistance had crumbled, and that meant in future he could pretty much do with her whatever he wanted. Result!
He had had a lucky escape, but then the adrenalin rush from doing something illicit, and the fear of getting caught, was as stimulating and exciting as the chase, the capture and the subjugation of the prey; not to mention the final tasting.
Then he saw Trish coming towards him and he recoiled slightly, but all she did was peck his cheek and turn away. He breathed again and tried to control his heartbeat which had spiked momentarily. She was walking away. Stay calm.
But she had only taken four steps when she stopped. She looked up and into space, as if trying to focus her eyes on a patch of thin air above her head. Her nose twitched. She frowned and then her expression morphed gradually from confusion to speculation to realisation and, finally, conclusion. Dave’s heartbeat had slowed for a second or two but as his wife stopped, stood still for a moment then slowly turned around to face him, it skipped and began pounding again in his chest. She’s coming back!
He watched with disbelief and mounting terror as she approached him, slowly, remorselessly closing the gap between them, and he stepped back involuntarily; but he was at the end of the bar and there was nowhere to go. Her unwavering eyes transfixed him as she approached and he couldn’t tear his own away as she bore down relentlessly on him, like a slow-motion car crash.
She stopped when they were twelve inches apart and, without blinking, sniffed once, and then, looking down to his trousers, sniffed again, longer this time, drawing in the cocktail of scents. The only sound he could hear was the background drone of the bottle fridges and his heart thumping in his head, and he couldn’t stand the silence any longer.
“Whaaat?” he complained. She stepped back, and he thought he had got away with it so he relaxed for an instant. But she had only made space.
Before he could react, her left arm swung in a wide arc with the speed of a cobra and her flattened hand struck his right cheek like a wrecking ball hitting a building.
“Bastard!” she screamed, as his head went sideways with the force of the blow, knocking him off balance. He struggled to right himself.
“What the f—!” he wailed, clutching his face as he came back up for more. But she had moved up close again. Her teeth were clenched and the fury burst out of her in a rage he had never been