Who Are You? (17 page)

‘It’s bloody impossible to tell her how to do anything,’ Alex said under his breath. But they didn’t make a bad show of putting everything together, as Geraldine said. ‘Don’t know what all the fuss is about, frankly,’ Alex snapped.

‘Well you know Juliet, she’s probably got plans for the flowers, the scented candles, all the little details she’s so good at.’

‘Yes. I know Juliet.’

Ben has been kept occupied with suitable DVDs and Alex has searched out his toy gun and stashed it on top of a wardrobe. Being left alone downstairs has given him a chance to have a bit of a tidy-up, including chucking out all the rotting food at the back of the fridge. Bloody useless woman. She’s just so fucking infuriating. God, it was a close thing this morning. Waking up to his hands around her throat, squeezing. Just the vague thought of it now was giving him a hard-on. He knows he could choose to be sympathetic towards her and see how it must be from her point of view. But she’s just been so fucking cold. He can’t reach her any more. Not that he seems capable of reaching anyone. But she’s his wife, for Christ’s sake. Can’t she just behave, keep her mouth shut and stop playing her stupid bloody games? Can’t she just see what he’s dealing with? Christ, no one makes him quite as angry as she does. Later. He’ll deal with her later so that she never pulls a stunt like that ever again.

In the meantime there are people arriving and Alex puts on his social face. There’s bloody mistletoe hanging from the ceiling above the hallway, so he has to go through the whole kissing thing and the squeaks repeated every time he lets someone new in,
‘Oh, look … mistletoe … mwah … mwah …’

Coats are discarded and children are ushered into the playroom to join Ben and his DVDs. Bowls of crisps and bottles of coke and lemonade are already out on a table, and so the kids can fill up on junk food and E numbers and give their parents a hell of a hard time this afternoon. Juliet would have put out raw carrots and grapes, and little bits of cheese, no doubt, because she believes in proper food. Alex had had to go down to the corner shop to stock up on all the evil stuff, because Juliet wouldn’t allow it in the house. Ben had been circling earlier, demanding glasses of coke, and Alex had to smile to himself at the fact that there was a guaranteed bedwetting session tonight to annoy the hell out of Juliet. Alex has no idea who she’s invited, nor how many, so he’s put out loads of glasses and opened half a dozen red and chilled a further half dozen white. There’s also jugs of elderflower cordial with sprigs of mint added by Geraldine, and some fresh orange juice. There is no effing mulled wine, though he has put a bottle of whisky and some Stone’s Ginger Wine out for those who might like a whisky mac. Alex has already had a couple before anyone arrived. His hands are reasonably steady and he’s feeling pretty OK, considering.

Obviously there’s no sign of the Hunts and their little shit of a child. Hard to think it’s barely forty-eight hours since he had his hand up Caroline’s skirt. Maybe he should have guessed that Juliet would be angry, but hell, it was a spur of the moment thing, and it did the trick. Marcus might be a bit more circumspect in the future before he starts trying to finger other men’s women.

By one o’clock there’s about twenty people milling around, chatting about their Christmases, moaning about their relatives, or the weather, or both. His mother’s been in her element, pushing canapés at people, keeping on the move so that she doesn’t have to get too involved. The fact that she’s busy means she has less time to hit the wine. The thought has struck Alex that Juliet might somehow escape from her bonds, but if anyone knows a good knot it’s him. But say she did, it would cause quite a stir if she walked in with her bruises and gashes. Coupled with Caroline Hunt’s knickers it would be the topic of local gossip for years to come, and he would be persona non grata. No more invitations, no more chats outside the front door on a weekend morning. And how would Juliet deal with it? Given that all she wants is to settle, to bring Ben up in the sort of middle-class environment she’s always yearned for, she wouldn’t go through with her threat. Even though she said this morning that that was her plan, it doesn’t make sense to Alex. Unless she really does want to go public about leaving him. Maybe he just hasn’t made it clear enough how he feels. He knows that it’s not what she really wants. He knows better than she does how she really feels. He knows what’s best for her, for Ben and for himself. She just needs to be reminded of that. OK, so he’s perhaps gone a bit over the top when he’s lost it with her. But every time she’s asked for it. He wouldn’t have touched her if she hadn’t wound him up. Just because he’s a soldier doesn’t mean he’s a violent person. She knows that. But she needs to understand what he is trying to cope with. She’s no fucking idea what he went through, and the adjustments he had to make. If she had any bloody imagination … But she’s always been selfish, Juliet. Whatever she’s said about her mother and stepfather and the way things were, she always got what she wanted pretty much in life. They’re living here, for Christ’s sake, aren’t they? She should realize just how lucky she is. She’s lucky he took her on, bloody screwball that she was back then. Who was it who got her clean, eventually? Who was it who dealt with her relapses when they were posted to Germany. If she could just stop to think about what he’d done for her. Coming back to quarters finding her wasted, but denying she’d taken anything. Then he found a bit of silver paper, smoke-blackened on one side, with the remnants of her gear. So what did he do? Locked her in the bedroom. Fed her, kept her clean, literally, even though she begged him to let her out. And she was bloody grateful. Not straight away because she was angry at him for banging her up. But when she realized what he’d done for her, she was just so thankful that he’d stopped her before it got serious. Alex tracked down the guy who supplied her and beat him to a pulp. He wouldn’t be supplying Captain Miller’s wife again if he valued his life.

Someone taps him on the shoulder and Alex spins round. That’s the thing about being hyper-vigilant. The slightest touch puts you on high alert, battle ready. He can tell by the look in Rowena Wood’s eyes that his own eyes give him away. There’s a hint of surprise, of regret, of fear … ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘I didn’t mean to make you jump.’

‘It’s OK.’ Rowena is a real looker. More natural than a lot of them, but maybe she just goes to a better clinic. It’s impossible to tell. But what he likes most about her is that she’s always direct. Alex remembers Juliet telling him that she’s got some high- powered job. So she’s used to dealing with people and giving them instructions, and she seems to have that honesty that comes with not needing to be liked. She doesn’t do the platitude stuff,
‘How was your Christmas? How many did you have? Goose or turkey? House is looking lovely …’ the conversation by rote. ‘Is Juliet OK? I mean, are you both OK? You caused quite a stir the other night. I’ve only just heard, but apparently Caroline Hunt is saying you assaulted her …’

Alex’s hand holding his glass remains steady. He’s amused to hear this. ‘She came on to me, I rejected her advances. She’s obviously feeling sore.’

‘Really?’ Rowena doesn’t sound convinced. ‘Is Juliet really OK? Should I go and see her?’

‘No. I mean, yes, she’s OK, but she’s sleeping. She didn’t get much last night – you know what it’s like – and so she just needs to rest.’

‘Poor love. Lucky you didn’t get it if it’s food poisoning. Maybe it’s a bug.’

‘Yeah, then we can all look forward to it.’ Alex is uncomfortable with her questioning. There’s something that makes him feel edgy. Rowena somehow manoeuvres him into a corner of the kitchen.

‘I thought I should warn you about Caroline – it’s not the sort of thing you want going around, is it? I was concerned that might be why Juliet isn’t here.’

‘On the contrary,’ Alex says, his face now serious. ‘She’s got food poisoning. Perhaps the supposedly injured party ought to have a word with me before she goes around trashing my reputation. If you happen to speak to her or Marcus, you might mention that. I don’t know what their game is, or their motive. Maybe because their boy has been bullying Ben they’re trying to get the upper hand. Weird way of going about it.’

‘Look, I don’t know if this is the time to tell you, but I know that you and Juliet were really cross about Rupert Hunt and the powder paint in the sandpit, him blaming Ben for it. Well it
was
Ben, not Rupert. And he thumped Cordelia during the nativity play. She teased him about his funny hat so he socked her one. He gave her quite a bruise.’

‘Who’s word is that? Rupert’s? Cordelia’s?’

‘Spoken like a proper parent, Alex. It’s tough when we discover our little darlings aren’t quite the angels we think they are.’ She puts her hand on his arm and looks him straight in the eye. ‘Just be careful, Alex. I know it must be difficult for you sometimes. I picture you as some kind of wild animal cooped up in a zoo, restrained and restless, and looking for a fight. You can pick it with me if you like. I just hope you’re not picking it with Juliet.’

‘As if it’s any of your business.’

‘You’re right, it’s not my business. But when I see a friend sporting a black eye I’m not the type of woman to stand back and say nothing. Let’s hope Ben isn’t copying his father.’

‘What’s Juliet been saying?’ Alex is unable to hide his anger. He grabs hold of Rowena’s arm and squeezes it, hard.

‘You’re hurting me,’ she hisses.

‘I asked what Juliet has been saying.’

‘Nothing. She hasn’t said anything to me. I’ve got eyes in my head, OK?’

Rowena gives him a long, unblinking look, and then nods her head. He expects her to say something, but she doesn’t. She just continues to watch him, a look of examination, as if she’s attempting to see inside him. Many people have tried, none have succeeded.

‘I think it’s time you left. I don’t like your insinuations. In fact it’s bloody insulting.’

‘You’re right. If I’m wrong then you’re absolutely right. But if I’m right, then just be aware that I’m watching you, Alex.’

And then she smiles and winks – yes, winks. Jeeesus, Alex thinks. However much you think you know people, people in general that is, there’s always room for surprise. As he watches her whisper in Robert’s ear, and Robert turns towards him mouthing thanks and goodbye, Alex squeezes his hands together so hard that his fingers hurt. His body flushes all over with a hot, red energy so intense that he needs to hit something in order to release it. Fucking woman. Who the hell does she think she is, coming into
his
house and warning
him
? He’s going to teach Juliet a lesson she’ll never forget.
Never.

*    *    *    *    *

Juliet needs to pee. Not wants, but
needs.
If only she could see her watch. Her limbs are cramped and painful and the ache in her arms is unbearable. She wants to cry but forces herself not to. But she doesn’t think she can control her bladder much longer. It’s so full that it’s creating a sharp pain in her lower abdomen, and her pelvic floor muscles are giving up the battle. Underneath her is the thick feather duvet and a smart cotton cover from the White Company. She imagines that when she lets go there will be a lake of urine. At first it will feel warm, and then it will get cold, and make her feel chilled. Her wet pyjama bottoms will cling to her legs and the urine will sting her skin. It will stink. She will stink, just like Ben. She squashes her lips together as hard as she can, as if by doing so she can also seal up her urethra. She squeezes her eyes tight shut and tries to escape the pain. Please, she begs silently – Alex, come and let me go. The fight’s left her now. She wants to say to him: ‘I promise I’ll be good. I promise I’ll do what you say from now on.’ She’ll say anything to avoid him doing this to her again. And when he does come, and he sees what she’s done, that she’s wet the bed, she’ll feel ashamed and dirty.

*    *    *    *    *

Alex closes the front door behind the last of the guests. Geraldine is already clearing up empty glasses and loading the dishwasher. He stops himself from saying, Don’t …

‘Do you think Juliet would like anything to eat? Should I make her a cup of tea, perhaps?’ his mother asks.

‘I’ll go and check. Would you keep an eye on Ben? He might like a sandwich – that’s if he hasn’t filled himself up with crisps and coke.’

‘Of course. Off you go. Tell her I hope she’s feeling better.’ Alex climbs the two flights of stairs to their bedroom and gets the key to the door out of his pocket. He slips it into the lock, turns it and pushes the door open. Then he closes it, and locks it once more from the inside. He takes the key out of the lock and pockets it. Juliet is facing him, lying pretty much where he left her, watching him. He can see that there is a big circle of dampness underneath her where she has emptied her bladder. ‘Oh dear, dear, just look at you,’ he says. ‘Got yourself into a bit of a mess, haven’t you? What a dirty girl you are! A dirty, stinking girl. What are you? Oh, you can’t speak can you? Maybe I should leave you like that. Be nice not to have you bitching on at me. Amazing how smoothly getting ready for the party went without you there. Been having fun up here?’

There’s a groan from behind the gag ‘Sorry? Can’t understand you. So I expect you’d like me to untie you? Yes?’ Juliet nods her head furiously.

‘If I do, you’d better promise me that you’re going to be a very good girl. Understand?’ Her eyes narrow, and she nods her head once more. ‘No more talk about you leaving. Because I honestly don’t know what I’d be driven to do. I don’t like disobedience, Juliet. It really fucks me off when you don’t do what I tell you. Do you understand that, Juliet?’ He keeps his voice low and menacing.

Then he goes into the bathroom and picks up a pair of nail scissors. He returns and sits down on the bed, level with Juliet’s head. He brushes the points of the blades against her windpipe and exerts the tiniest pressure. He can see the raw fear in her eyes.

‘You know what happens to bad girls, don’t you Juliet …? Bad things happen to bad girls.’

She nods for the third time.