It was Monday and so, back to school. She delivered the girls as usual, Jade ignored her as usual and, as usual, she drove back home to start the washing. The documents would be coming through any day now and the problem that had plagued her mind for almost a month would finally be resolved.
But it wasn’t a usual Monday. She had other plans. She filled the washing machine, set it going and climbed back into the Range Rover. There was something she needed to do, and she needed to do it now.
She steered the huge machine into the car park at The King’s Head in Fotherham and parked it opposite the blue Mondeo she recognised. She noticed Jade’s battered little hatchback alongside and was relieved. She didn’t want to be alone with him, and anyway, she needed them both to be there to hear what she had to say. It was only ten-thirty so the pub would be closed, but she had no doubt the management would be up and about.
As it happened, the front door was open. She ventured in slowly, looking left and right, and then a familiar sight came into view. Dave; seated, coffee, newspaper. He looked up when he sensed movement and she moved slowly towards him. She remembered the first day they’d met at The Navigation, the clammy hand, the leer, the lascivious grin, and she felt a shudder of revulsion. It’s all in the mind. Look at it from another’s point of view.
“You’re not supposed to be here.”
“I’m sorry. I know you’re closed.”
“No. I mean I’ve been told not to contact you and I think it should work both ways.”
“Well. I think that was for my benefit. And I wanted to talk to you. And Jade.”
“She’s not here,” he said curtly, standing up and walking around the table towards her. She felt his eyes on her, looking her up and down, and she had to concentrate hard not to let it unsettle her. “What do you want?”
She was instantly thrown off balance. It wasn’t going according to plan. She needed Jade there and she needed to do it at her own speed, and now he was harassing her. But before she could say anything there was movement behind him.
“What’s she doing here?” Jade wandered into the bar and stood next to her husband, a brown leather bag over her shoulder.
“Thought you were going out.”
Jade looked at her husband suspiciously.
“I am. In a minute.”
Jess smiled in relief and tried to sound calm and composed.
“Well. I’m glad you’re both here. I have something to say, you know, before we sign any contracts.”
“And pay up?”
“Yes.”
“Jade knows all about that. No secrets in this house,” he said, trying to sound confident and defiant but instead sounding guarded and unsure of himself.
“I wanted to clear the air. Jade, you and I were once friends and I want us still to be friends and I want Ben and the girls to be friends. I know it’s hard for you to accept what happened, but that was back then and this is now, and we’re all different people.” Jade nodded in apparent understanding. Jess looked at Dave, who appeared to be considering her words carefully.
“I have fond memories of The Navigation, don’t you?” she smiled in reminiscence. Dave chuckled stiffly.
“Yeah, but that’s all water under the bridge.”
“Exactly,” said Jess, raising one finger to emphasise the point. “Whatever mistakes I may have made, I hope they can be forgiven and we can move on in a civilised way like grown-ups. I can’t live with the thought that we’d be enemies.”
“We’re not enemies, Alice … I mean Jess,” said Jade. We just want what’s rightfully ours. Don’t we, Dave?”
“Yeah. That’s right. We’re giving up something precious and we need to be compensated,” he said, straightening his back and lifting his chin.
“Well, that’s the problem, you see. I don’t care about the money. I had nothing before, and if I had nothing tomorrow, that would be fine. I’d manage. I’d still have my kids. I understand if it’s worth more to you. I mean, two hundred and fifty thousand pounds is life-changing to most people.” Jade’s eyes opened wide and her jaw dropped.
“What?”
“The money,” said Jess, “the figure we agreed.” Jade turned her head slowly to look at her husband who had gone white but continued to stare stiffly ahead.
“Two hundred and fifty? You said fifty. Why did you say fifty?” Dave swallowed but said nothing, frozen, thinking. “Why did you say fifty?” she screamed, her face inches from his.
Jess stepped back. She hadn’t expected this, but then, it was no surprise. Dave eventually managed to get his mouth into gear and a few words tumbled out.
“It … was originally fifty … then I thought, that’s not enough, so I went back for more.”
“Liar!”
“No. No, doll. That’s the God’s honest …”
“You filthy lying scumbag!” Jade stepped back and swung her bag at his head, but he fended it off with one arm.
“Leave it!” he shouted
“No, you leave it, you bastard. Conning me and Ben out of two hundred grand!” She snarled at him and in response he bent forward, baring his teeth, stabbing a finger at her face.
“It ain’t your money! I’m the father of them kids,” he shouted back at her, pointing a finger at some indeterminate place outside. “Now get out and leave it to me!”
Jade hesitated for a moment, then stomped off muttering expletives and slammed the door behind her. Jess had watched the exchange in genuine shock. This was not going well, but maybe it had made things even easier?
“I suppose you think you’re clever, eh?” he said angrily, hands on hips.
“I don’t know what you mean.” She was nervous because he looked angry and it made him unpredictable.
“Why did you tell her it was two fifty?”
“Because it’s true?”
“You shouldn’t have told her anything. It ain’t her money, it’s mine. I’m the father of them kids, not her.”
“I’m sorry. How was I supposed to know what you told her?”
“You stupid cow!” he shouted. He rubbed his chin and shook his head. “Okay. Okay. I’ll sort it out. Just you do your side and I’ll do mine. Okay?”
“Well, that’s what I was trying to tell you.” Jess was genuinely fearful now and she rubbed her hands together instinctively, her palms moist and cold. She’d seen Dave angry again. Angry in the same way he’d been all that time ago in The Navigation, threatening her, forcing her to do his will, and here he was again, totally wound up, standing over her, looking at her, leering.
“What?”
But there was no going back. Not now.
“I’ve decided that we should all be friends. It’s best for the children that they know who their father is and that you should be able to see them whenever you want.” Whatever colour had returned to Dave’s face quickly drained back to white.
“What are you saying?” He said it with a menace she recognised only too well and she knew she was pushing him all the way to the edge.
“I’m saying that we shouldn’t sign any silly contracts.”
“And what about the money?”
She shook her head.
“It’s wrong to put a price on a child’s happiness. I won’t do it. I’m not going through with it.” She looked at him and saw he was sweating and breathing heavily, and her own heart was beating loudly in her ears. She waited for a response. She got one.
“Bitch!” he shouted. He took a step towards her and she backed up in fear but they were both distracted by a noise behind him. Jade stomped back into the bar clutching a holdall.
“Where you going?” he said.
“I’m out of here. Me and Ben.”
“Oh no, you’re not,” he said grabbing her bag, and as the two of them wrestled and tugged and shouted at each other, Jess turned and ran out of the pub to the car park. She fired up the Range Rover and put her foot down. The beast lurched forward, rear tyres spinning as she twirled the wheel, frantically trying to keep the car in a straight line.
Dave finally overpowered his wife by slapping her so hard she fell backwards against the bar, hitting her head on the front edge and dropping to the floor in a heap. He grabbed his keys and burst out of the front door just in time to see black tyre smoke swirling around the car park and the back of a Range Rover disappearing up the High Street.
Inside, Jade, groggy and groaning, crawled across the floor to where she had dropped her bag and pulled out her phone.
The Range Rover slid to a halt on the gravel drive and she leapt out, plucking her phone from her pocket. She used one thumb to dial while feeding the key into the front door lock with her other hand. He answered almost immediately and she could tell from the background noise he was hands-free in the car.
“Michael!” she said, still panting from the exertion and the fear. “I’ve told him I’m not paying. I’ve told Dave.”
“Calm down, Jess. What’s happened?” She stepped into the hallway and closed the door.
“I went to see them and told them I’m not going through with it. He’s not getting a penny.”
“And how did he take it?”
“Not good.”
“I wish you‘d discussed this with me first.”
“Nothing to discuss, Michael. I made up my mind. I tried to reason with him but all he ever wanted was money. Well, we’re moving anyway. We’ll just move far enough away so he can’t get to us. No more giving in.”
“Okay. I understand. Hang on, there’s another call …” The phone went silent for a minute. “It’s Pauline Robson in a panic. I’ll call you back.” The line went dead.
She heard the sound of an engine roaring outside, followed by tyres skidding on gravel. She opened the door and saw Dave Morley jumping out of the Mondeo, slamming the door and marching up to the house. She redialled while pushing her back against the door, but the call went straight to voicemail. Then, without warning, the door flew open and she was thrown back into the hallway, the phone flying out of her hand as she tried to keep her balance.
Dave Morley stepped into the hall and she backed into the drawing room, terrified. He walked towards her, fists clenched as if ready to attack, his shirt wet with sweat, his face twisted in rage. She continued to step back and he followed her, watching, leering.
“If only Trish hadn’t come back, I’d have given you a good seeing to,” he snarled. “I can’t believe the way you just lay back and took it. Didn’t struggle one bit. I wanted you to. I wanted you to scream and shout and dig your nails in. Fight back. Would have made it all the more exciting.”
Her heart was pounding. Just like at home in her bed with her drunken father all over her; just like three in the morning in her bed, on her face, pinned down by her vile husband; just like in The Navigation when she was on her knees in submission; and just like in Nepal, with murderers and bandits standing over her, screaming. She felt like she was back there, at altitude, the oxygen somehow sucked out of the air.
“I knew you didn’t want it. You did it because I made you do it and you gave in. You’re pathetic, that’s what you are.” He stabbed a finger at her.
“You raped me, Dave Morley,” she shouted back at him, but he just grinned at her. It seemed to excite him even more and he kept coming towards her, but she’d reached the end of the sofa and her way back was blocked.
“You call that rape? That weren’t rape. That were just a man taking what he needs, taking what’s his. I was the boss and your job was to be a good girl and do as you were told. You were a good girl, Alice. Weren’t ya? But you thought you was too good for me. Nah. That weren’t rape. Let me show you what rape is.”
Before she could react he leapt towards her, one hand gripping her throat. His other grabbed her by the hair, and he dragged her onto the floor where she landed heavily on the rug, with him on top of her. She clawed at the hand around her throat but her nails were too short to do any damage, and he slapped her face with the back of his other hand which made her head spin, and she screamed as she looked into his red eyes, white mucus foaming around his mouth, showering her with flecks of spittle. Her skirt had ridden up past her knees and he pressed his legs between them, pushing them apart, and she writhed and screamed as he used his free hand to unbuckle his belt and open his jeans.
“No!” She tried to scream again but her breath was constricted and her chest tight from the lack of air and the weight of his body, and he banged her head on the floor and continued to wrestle with his pants until he’d got them down beyond his buttocks and then reached up under her skirt. And then a sound; an echo in the distance, getting louder and louder. Someone calling her name.
“Jess! Jess! My God! Get off her!” A shout from above.
Michael Goodman was on top of Dave, one arm around his neck, red-faced, grimacing, struggling, and their combined weight was crushing the life out of her but he still had one hand around her throat, the other ripping her clothing and tearing at her skin, and she tensed her body in anticipation of the ultimate assault. And then, in her oxygen-starved haze, Michael rolling off to the side with a crash and another shout and Dave, saliva drooling through bared teeth, a long string of nasal mucus dangling over her face, leering at her like a demon possessed, his expression suddenly turning to surprise.
Simon Rutherford had one hand between Dave’s thighs, the other around his neck, and lifted him bodily into the air, holding him aloft like a weightlifter before crashing him down horizontally on the oak floor like a wrestler hitting the canvas. Dave hit the floor face first, twitched violently and passed out, jeans around his knees, buttocks exposed.
Simon dropped to the floor next to the squirming, writhing figure, lifted her up into a sitting position and rearranged her skirt. He held her in his arms and she twitched and screamed and wept as her body shook and convulsed. He looked back at the door.
“Call the police!”
Pauline Robson hesitated momentarily before a second instruction broke her trance.
“NOW! And get the paramedics too.”
She fumbled hastily with her phone and went out into the hallway, passing Jade Morley who stood by the door, shaking uncontrollably, struck dumb with fear. Michael lay on his back, head under the coffee table, groaning.
Simon rocked her back and forth like a mother with child and kissed her head. She opened her eyes and saw him.
“Hey, lovely lady. Long time no see.”
“How’s Maria?” she whispered.
“Tell you later.”