Freeing Alex (8 page)

“Alex’s not feeling too good, Rog, I’m going to run her
home. I’ll be back later,” James explains as we walk straight past.

“Look after yourself.” Roger winks at me with a little smile
as we leave.

I’m too done in to answer. My emotions are all over the
place. James walks me to my car, popping the locks on the way across the car
park. He opens the passenger door and helps me into the seat. Leaning across
me, he fastens my seatbelt, and after making sure my bag is safely in the foot
well he closes the door and makes his way around to the driver’s side. As he
slides into his seat he reaches into his pocket to the note with my address on,
the one that I gave him yesterday. “Cheyne Row,” he says, “very nice – let’s
get you home.”

He makes the drive that causes me stress seem easy and we’re
pulling up outside my home in record time. He opens his door and walks around
to the passenger side where he helps me out. I’m shattered, I feel physically
and emotionally exhausted. “Come on, let’s get you inside.” His voice is soft
yet firm, like he’s taking control.

I’m too done in to even acknowledge him. He guides me up the
steps to my shiny front door. “Will Anna be in?” he asks. I nod in reply. He
rings the doorbell and after a minute or two Anna answers.

“Oh God! Mum!” Her hands fly to her face. “What’s wrong?”

“A bad moment,” James explains. “Your mum needs to rest.”
His tone is one of authority, he’s definitely taking charge.

“Oh Mum!” Anna says again. “Bring her in, her room’s this
way.” She talks about me like I’m an object, not her mum.

Anna moves out of the way for James and me. I feel so
drained. He bends slightly and places his arm behind my knees, and he lifts me
like I weigh nothing. “Lead on,” he says to Anna, who is aghast at this young
handsome man carrying her middle-aged mum upstairs to bed.

We follow Anna through to my room at the front of the house.
It’s large with a queen-size bed, a white wrought-iron frame, the bed high off
the ground. My furnishings are plush and feminine. James sits me down on the
edge of the bed. “Anna, help your mum get comfortable, I’ll wait outside.” He
leaves, walking out onto the landing, leaving me with Anna, who knows nothing
of what’s happened in the past.

She helps me remove my jeans and pumps. I never thought that
my darling daughter would be helping me to undress until I was at least eighty.
She pulls the bed covers back and takes out my t-shirt that I sleep in from
beneath, then she moves to my shirt buttons. “NO!” I shout, “NO!” Anna just
looks at me, stunned. She shouldn’t be dealing with this, not yet, she’s too
young. “Get James,” I whisper.

“Mum, you’re half dressed!” Anna snaps.

“Get. James. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before. Just. Get.
James!” I start to sob again, the tears streaming down my cheeks. I sigh
deeply. “Darling, just get James – please!” I plead. I knew that one day she’d
have to know what her dad had done, what he was like, but I wanted to be in
control of her finding out, not like this.

She leaves me and moves out of my room onto the landing. I
can hear the conversation. “She wants you, I don’t know why. She’s half
dressed!” Anna sounds so concerned, bordering on shocked, I think.

“It’s all right,” I hear him say. “I’ll see to her, but
we
need to have a talk.”

I can imagine he’s held her arm in that reassuring way that
men so often seem to do.

“Does your mum keep brandy in?” I hear him ask.

“Yes, I think there’s some.”

“Will you get some, just a small one, and bring it back up
here? Give me five minutes to sort her out.” He gives his instructions before
coming back into my room. I’m still sitting on the edge of my bed dressed only
in my knickers and shirt, legs hanging off the edge, puffy eyed. I must look
like a wreck, I feel it. He approaches me slowly.

“Anna doesn’t know, does she?” he asks.

I shake my head. “No,” I say quietly.

He kneels down in front of me and undoes the buttons of my
shirt, looking directly at me constantly. He maintains eye contact all of the
time. My hair is a mess, hanging forward over my face. He pulls the top of my
shirt apart and eases it over my shoulders and down my arms. He tosses it to
the floor, then stands and moves to sit beside me. My James, whom I have only
known for a few weeks, is undressing me in my room and yet it feels so right;
he’s so gentle and tender, caring. My mother would have a hissy fit if she
knew. Still, she’s one to criticise after what she’s done to me! 

He puts his hands on the tops of my arms and turns me around
so that my back is facing him. He runs his fingers gently over my scar. I
shudder. It doesn’t hurt, it just brings back so many horrible memories.
“Sorry,” he whispers.

He unhooks my bra and I hear him gasp. “The bastard, the fucking
monster.” He sees the other tiny brand mark on the right side of my back, which
is normally covered by my bra.

“I take it he did this as well,” he growls quietly, running
his fingers over the branded letters
LD
. They’re small, not more than
half an inch high, but a permanent reminder of who I belong, or belonged, to.

“When did he do this?” he asks. I can hear the anger in his
voice, he’s speaking through gritted teeth. I hold my head down, I’m ashamed.

“It’s old, soon after Anna was born,” I whimper.

“And nobody knows, nobody?” He sounds stunned.

“No, always covered,” is all I can manage before starting to
shake again.

I hear Anna coming back upstairs. She knocks on my bedroom
door. “Just a second,” James calls. He removes my bra completely and helps me
into the t-shirt I sleep in.

“You’re so beautiful, Alex, don’t let anyone else tell you
anything different,” he whispers to me as he helps me stand and holds onto me
whilst he guides me into bed and tucks me up like a child. He then plants a
gentle kiss on my forehead.

“It’s okay, Anna!” he calls.

Anna comes in with a brandy glass. She looks so pale, it’s
been a shock for her too, I’ve no doubt. She hands the glass to James, who
holds it to my lips. “Drink!” he says. I sip the amber liquid. It burns the
back of my throat. “Drink it all,” he says firmly, “it’s good for you.”  I do
as I am told and in a way I’m happy that someone knows and that someone is
taking control, but not like Lewis. James is taking control in a nice way. He
walks around to the window and pulls the blinds closed.

I know that once they’re downstairs
they chat, and I know that despite James’s promise not to tell anyone, he will have
said something. They will doubtless have discussed my marriage, Anna’s father
and what’s been happening, or at least what Anna knows.

I can’t seem to drift off. My door is open and I can hear
them talking in the kitchen, I need to know what James has told Anna. Deep down
I know that there will come a time when she needs to know what has happened,
what her dad is like, but
I
need to be in control, I need to tell her in
my
way. I leave my bed and creep quietly to the top of the stairs where
I can hear the muffled conversation.

“Is Mum going to be okay?” I hear Anna say, her voice tinged
with fear.

“She’ll be fine, I think she’s tougher than you think,”
James reassures Anna.

“How much has she told you, James?” Anna asks. I can hear
her doing something, sounds like she’s making something to eat.

“She’s told me a little about your dad, that’s all.” He’s
not revealing just how much he knows about Lewis, thank God.

“Did she tell you about Maggie?” Anna asks.

“No, what about Maggie?” He sounds surprised.

“Maggie was Mum’s birth mother. Apparently her career was
too important to give up and look after a child, so Maggie’s sister, my Gran,
brought Mum up as her own.” She stops talking for a moment, there’s silence.
“She was officially adopted, it was all done legally, but Mum didn’t find out
until Maggie died and we were with the solicitor, it was a real shock to her,
and me!”

There’s a pause, a lengthy one.

“Let me get this right, Alex is Maggie’s daughter?” James
asks. I don’t hear a reply from Anna, but she must have nodded or acknowledged
him somehow. I hear James speaking again. “She really has had a full couple of
months – finding out that Maggie has died and that she’s sole benefactor,
inherited the lot, found the guts to leave your dad, moved to London and
finally told me, a stranger, about what she’s gone through for the last
twenty-odd years and, to top it all, she finds out that her mum and dad,
aren’t!” He sounds surprised, and concerned.

“Yes, but they’ve only really argued for the last five or
six years, not twenty,” Anna says.

“You need to talk to your mum, you really do.” His tone is
flat, matter of fact.

“I’ll go check on her, shall I?” I hear him say. I creep
quickly back to my bed and pretend to be sleeping.

I am so pleased he hasn’t said anything to her, but now I
know that I’m going to have to tell her. In truth I’m feeling a little more
settled, not so emotional, I hear him wander into my room quietly, I stay so
still, my eyes closed feining sleep until I hear him leave.

Once he’s gone I must fall to sleep for a few hours. I’m
woken by James as he sits beside me on my bed. “How are feeling now?” he
whispers.

I wake feeling groggy. “Okay, I suppose. You haven’t told
Anna?” I ask, although I know he hasn’t, or at least I hope he didn’t say
anything.

“No, I haven’t. You need to, though, Alex. You can’t keep
that from her. I don’t know how you’ve kept it from her this long, surely
you’ve been clothes shopping or swimming together and she’s seen you
undressed?”

“No, never,” I answer. “Always managed to avoid anything
like that, dressing rooms, changing rooms… and I used to get out of swimming
altogether, I haven’t swam for over five years. As for holidays, well, Lewis
wouldn’t take us anywhere exotic anyway so I got away with t-shirt and shorts
in the summer.”

He runs his fingers over my chin and looks at me, a slight
smile across those beautiful lips. “You need to tell her, let her see what her
dad’s like. She’s eighteen, no reason to keep this from her any longer.”

I’m horrified to see Anna appear in the doorway.
Shit.

“No need to keep what from me?” she grumbles. 

I throw myself back into my pillow. “No, not yet.” I’m
furious that Anna has overheard the conversation.

“What, Mum? James, what can’t I know? I’m not a child any
longer, for heaven’s sake, in two months I’ll be living on my own!” she snaps.

“You need to let her know, Alex,” James insists. “Tell.
Her.” It’s that demanding tone again, the way he says things, issues orders, it
compels me to do whatever he’s saying. I don’t know what it is, maybe it’s just
the way he says it, but I just do what he asks.

I look at him, frowning. “Don’t order me to do anything! If
you’re so insistent that my darling Anna knows what a fucking bastard her
father is,
you
tell her!” I shout, challenging him as tears prick my
eyes again.

“Okay, I will! She needs to know, if only so that she can
protect herself from him, or any other bastard for that matter!” He’s angry,
but not with me, at least I don’t think so, but I know he’s right, Anna needs
to know that some men, thankfully not many, are bad.

“Anna, sweetheart, come here.” He holds his hand out towards
her and gestures for her to walk to the bed. “Roll over, Alex.” I hesitate,
rolling over very slowly.

“You know your mum and dad argued, you said you thought it
started five or six years ago,” he says patiently.

“Yes.” Anna sounds so confused.

“Your mum tells me that it was going on long before that.
But your dad was also violent towards your mum. She has some scars on her back,
scars that will be there for a very long time, maybe never go unless she has
some treatment. You’ve never seen them, have you?” My face is buried in my
pillow but I can guess he’s looking at her.

“No. Show me.” She sounds curious.

James pulls up the back of my t-shirt. I stay on my front in
just white cotton knickers and the t-shirt pulled up around my shoulders. Anna
sees the tiny brand first. “What’s that?” she asks.

“What does it look like?” James mumbles.

“It looks like the letters LD – oh God! Mum, when did that
happen?” She gasps.

I don’t answer.

“And there’s this one.” James pulls my t-shirt higher and
shows Anna the iron scar. It’s much larger, about five inches long and curved,
clearly shaped, like the sole plate of an iron.

“Oh my God!” Anna throws her hands to her mouth and dashes into
my en-suite. We hear her retching, over and over.

He pulls my t-shirt down. I stay with my face buried in my
pillow, crying silently to myself. Inside I feel broken, so ashamed Turning I
drag myself from my bed, “I have to go to Anna.”

I push past James and to the en-suite quickly finding my
darling daughter hunched over the loo. “Oh God Anna, I never wanted you to find
out like this.” I pull her hair back from her face and gently rub her back, “Oh
Anna.”

She flushes the loo and turns towards me, her arms held out
wide. We hug each other, just standing, holding onto each other.

“Why did he do it Mum?” She stammers through the sobs.

I shake my head, “I have no idea, no idea at all, but it’s
over now, he’s gone, well almost.”

I pull the toilet seat down and sit whilst Anna washes her
face. “Are you okay Mum, really?” she asks.

I nod, “I’ll be fine, I’m just emotionally drained, that’s
all. I’m going to climb back into bed, get a few hours sleep, you’ll be fine
with James, he’s a good person.” I smile at her.

We both emerge from the en-suite, James has waited, perched
on the edge of my bed.

“Are you both okay?” he asks. We both nod, “We’re fine.” I
answer for us both, “I’m just very tired, I’m going to go back to sleep for a
while. Is that okay?”

They both acknowledge me with smiles and nods as I climb
back under my duvet feeling more in control that I have for such a long, long
time.