Woman Walks into a Bar (6 page)

Eleven

I stopped
outside the bar.

Despite the cold air, my face felt hot. I stood for a moment beside the door that led into the pub.

I stuffed my fingers into my pockets against the cold and felt a folded piece of paper there. I smiled, took it out, and unfolded it, holding it up against the light that shone through the frosted glass door.

Why did the woman who walked into the bar have to go to hospital?

It was an iron bar!

I tried to smile, but I couldn't. I shivered and felt like—as my mum would say—someone had just walked over my grave.

I pulled down the hem of my skirt and flicked my hair back off my shoulders.

I walked into the bar.

The first person I saw was Brendan standing behind the bar and chatting to the woman he was serving. Smiling and joking with her exactly the way he did with me.

“And a vodka orange for you, of course,” he said to her with a wink. He looked up and saw me.

“Hi, Sam,” he called. But before I could reply I felt an arm slip through mine.

“Hi!” Marie looked excited. She pulled me away from the pub door to the quiet end by the ladies'. Joy was standing there, one leg straight, one leg bent, so that the curve of her hip jutted out at an angle as she leant against the bar. When she saw me she smiled.

“You're looking good, babe,” she said, pushing my jacket off my shoulders and twirling me round. As I turned I saw Brendan, clipping the lids off bottles of Bud before setting them in a line on the bar.

Brendan was working. I wasn't meeting Brendan.

I had begun to believe it so much that it was taking a second for my brain to catch up with my sinking heart.

“So,” I said, feeling suddenly tired and old. “Let's get on with it.”

“In a minute,” Joy said. She looked at Marie. Marie bit her lip. “Now listen, you know this man. You haven't seen him for a long time. For a really, really long . . .”

I opened my mouth.

“It's not Adam,” Joy said firmly. “Anyway, I saw this bloke the other day on the bus. His car had broken down.
He never normally takes the bus!
When he asked after you, I thought it must be like fate, right? It must be meant to be. He said he wanted to see you again. And I want you to know I thought about it for a long time, Sam. Me and Marie talked about it. We thought you should meet.
I
thought you should meet.”

“Meet who?” I said, starting to lose my temper.

Joy put her hand on my shoulder and guided me round the bar to where I could see a man in a suit, his dark head bent over his mobile phone as he sent a text.

“Luke Goddard!” she said.

I felt as if the breath had been sucked out of my lungs. I felt fifteen again with my heart thundering in my chest as I looked at him, sitting on the swings waiting for me.

I should have seen this coming. It was obvious, really. But I hadn't thought of it, so I hadn't stopped it.

All I knew was that I didn't want to see Luke Goddard, because the moment I realized that that man was him, all I could feel was the cold, hard slap of those insults and lies hitting me in the face again. All I could see was the look of contempt and disgust Luke had given me when I asked him to help me. Everything I thought I had put behind me for good was being raked up again.

I felt angry, humiliated, and scared.

And I hadn't felt like that since the night I broke up with Adam.

The One Who Broke My Nose and Three Ribs

He walked in from the bar.

“Dinner's ready,” I said, keeping my eyes down. I knew better than to look at him until I could tell what kind of mood he was in. Sometimes he'd slip his arms around my waist and kiss my ear and I'd know that he was in a good mood.

And when he was happy, he was the Adam I was in love with. Kind and loving. Funny and sweet. I knew that Adam would be gentle with me. He would hold me like I was made of glass. He would make Beth laugh and laugh before reading her a bedtime story. That was the Adam I'd fallen in love with, the Adam I couldn't leave.

But sometimes Adam wasn't like that. Sometimes he got angry, really angry. And the last few times he'd got that angry, he'd hit me.

It went like this. Sometimes he kissed me. Sometimes he would bring me flowers. Sometimes he would do the washing up. And sometimes he'd hit me. But I still loved him and so did Beth. She was three then, and she was a proper little daddy's girl.

It had started out as slaps. Slaps became shoves. And then, about a year before that night, he had punched me hard in the stomach. Knocked the wind right out of me. I had bent over double on the kitchen floor and had waited for another breath to come. He had stood in the doorway and watched me. He didn't cry that time. He didn't say he was sorry and that he didn't mean it. He wasn't sweet or loving. He didn't hold me and stroke my hair. He just went out and didn't come back until two days later. That was the first time he punched me, but it wasn't the last.

When I tried to tell Joy how it was, she didn't understand.

“He
hit
you,” she said. “A guy lays a finger on me and I'm outta there!”

“But that's not really him,” I said. “Most of the time things are really good.”

“You don't have to put up with a beating to get a few good times, Sam,” Joy had told me. “If he really loved you he wouldn't touch you. You've got to get out of there. What about Beth?”

“He's a great dad,” I said. “He loves me.”

“He
loves
you and he's done
that
to you?” Joy winced as she looked at me. “Get your stuff and come to my place till we sort something out.” But I hadn't listened. I still loved him.

It hadn't always been love. But the first moment I saw him unloading bricks off the back of a lorry for our neighbor's extension I knew that I wanted him. I'd been out of school for less than a month and I was on the way back from the shops with a loaf of bread. It was hot. He had no shirt on. I'd never felt anything like that before. It wasn't love, it was lust. Suddenly I wanted to know what it would be like to press my skin against his. Adam was older than me, nearly twenty-five, so I thought my parents would hate him. But Adam could charm the birds from the trees when he wanted to. They loved him before I did. I knew the exact moment I fell in love with him. It was when I told him I was pregnant. He put his hand on my belly and told me he'd look after me and never leave me. That was the moment I started loving him.

Nothing in my life had ever been as good as those first few years in that flat with Adam and Beth. I felt like a real person at last with my own family. I felt happy and safe. I couldn't let that go without trying to get it back. So when he came in from the pub I kept my head down and hoped for the best.

“Where's Beth?” he asked, his voice short and dark. Every part of me tensed.

“In bed,” I said keeping my voice light. “Has been for hours! Your tea's ready. Do you want a lager with it?”

“Why are you having a go at me?” he shouted. Just like that. He exploded, knocking the dishes I had set out on the table onto the floor. “Nag, nag, nag! That's all you ever do!”

He was right up in my face then. His angry mouth stretched into a snarl, the stink of stale beer on his breath. I leant back away from him and I could feel the edge of the worktop bite into my spine.

“I'm not,” I said, even though I knew saying anything was the wrong thing to do. Part of me still hoped that the other Adam, the Adam I loved, might hear my voice and remember he loved me. “I just said your tea was ready.”

I smiled at him.

He slammed the back of his fist into the right side of my head. I went down. He kicked me hard in the ribs twice with his boots, making me cough the air out of my lungs. I remember I could see under the fridge. I remember thinking it really needed cleaning. I could hear Beth's thin cry rise above the whir and rattle of the washing machine.

I wasn't going to do anything else then. I was just going to wait for it to be over, wait for Adam to finish and go to bed so that I could go to Beth and get her back off to sleep like I had done before.

But then Adam did something different.

He crouched down beside me.

“Can't you hear your kid crying? Someone like you shouldn't be allowed to have kids,” he said, his voice quiet, almost a whisper. “Some­one like you isn't fit to be a mother. I should never have touched you, you dumb fucking whore. You tricked me into getting you preg­nant.” He spat the words in my face. “Someone's got to bring that kid up right. Someone's got to bring her into line so she doesn't grow up into a useless bitch like you.” He stood up and looked down the hallway.

“I'll show her,” he said, and he walked out of the kitchen.

I don't know how but I was on my feet. Every breath I took felt like fire was spreading over my chest and I could taste my blood in my mouth. I knew whatever happened, what­ever he did to me, he wasn't going to lay a finger on Beth.

That was the moment when I stopped loving him.

“No!” I managed to scream. He had opened her door and she was sitting up in bed, holding her teddy to her chest. She had stopped crying. The tears stood in her bright eyes. I could feel her fear.

I lunged at him. I jumped on his back and pulled him off balance. He slammed me into the hall wall. I felt something crack.

He turned around and looked at me. There was nothing left in his eyes of the Adam I had still loved right up until the moment he threatened my daughter. There was nothing left in his face at all except hate.

A loud knock rattled the glass in the front door.

“What's going on in there?” It was Mr. Radcliff, the old man from next door. “I'm warning you, I'm calling the police!” His voice was shaking. He was afraid but he kept knocking on the front door.

I looked at Adam and waited as he drew back his fist.

The next punch broke my nose.

I expected him to go for me again. But instead he headed for the front door and flung it open. Mr. Radcliff wasn't there, but I could hear sirens growing louder. Adam looked at me one last time and walked out.

I never saw him again. I didn't even press charges, although the police really wanted me to. I couldn't face it. I moved back home with Mum and Dad, and he hung around for a while trying to get back into my life but I didn't see him. I didn't go out at all, and there was always someone at home with me. After a couple of months, my brother and three of his mates met him one night as he was leaving the pub. They persuaded him he should move on. I heard he went to London.

Sometimes I try to think about the first few years that Adam and I were together. I try to think about the good times, like when he'd made me and Beth a surprise picnic for Beth's first birthday. But I can't. All I can think about is that the last man I loved broke my nose and three ribs.

And I think there must be something really wrong with me.

Twelve

“Get out
of my way,” I said and pushed Joy to one side as I headed toward the pub doors.

“What?” Joy stepped in front of me again. “Why? Where are you going?” she asked me, looking surprised. I shook my head as I looked at her. I couldn't believe that she didn't know why I was so angry.

“I thought I was going on a date with . . .” I stopped myself saying Brendan's name. “Luke Goddard!” I shook my head in disbelief. “Joy, you of all people should know what he did to me! He made my life hell. He made me think that someone like Adam was my knight in shining armor!” I pushed past Joy again and got two steps farther before she stopped me.

“Sam, wait!” She held the top of my arm. “Please. Just listen to me for a second.”

I pulled her fingers loose and waited.

“OK,” she said. “We were stupid. We should have told you from the start who you were meeting. But we didn't think you'd come if you knew!”

“Actually, that part was Joy's idea,” Marie said.

“Marie!” Joy exclaimed. “You're not helping.”

Marie shrugged.

“Too bloody right I wouldn't have come,” I hissed at them both, trying hard not to attract attention. “And now I'm going home. Get out of my way.”

But Joy didn't move.

“You told me once you still thought about Luke Goddard and how different things might have been.”

I stared at her in disbelief.

“I didn't!” I said.

“You did,” she said. “That's why I thought . . .”

“If I said that, I was drunk or brain damaged or
something
. I don't even remember saying it.” I shook my head. I couldn't believe her.

Joy lowered her voice as a few people looked over our way. Even the greatest hits CD that Brendan had turned up to full volume couldn't disguise the fact that something was going on with us.

“Sam, babe, if you could just talk to him, then . . .”

“I can't believe you'd think . . .” I began, hearing my voice roll like low thunder.

“Just hear me out” Joy held up the palm of her hand. “You never knew, did you? You never knew if he really liked you, or if he'd meant the whole thing as a sick windup right from the start. Well, now you can ask him.” Joy's voice softened. “Look, he seemed to me like he really wanted to see you. To set things straight. Don't you want that too? To finally move on . . .”

“That's what I've been trying to do,” I said. “What I thought I had done until you raked all this up. Luke Goddard? Joy, why? You must be sick!”

“I just thought,” Joy kept talking. “Well, I've seen it on the telly. You know, when they get people to confront their painful pasts. It helps them to find a new strength to live their lives with.” Joy put a hand on my shoulder. It felt heavy. I shrugged it off. “If you talk to Luke, you could tell him how he made you feel. You could make him see what he did and how it's affected you since.”

Joy glanced through the crowd of Friday night drinkers, and I caught a glimpse of Luke fiddling nervously with his mobile. “I think he really regrets it. I think if you talk to him you'll feel better. You'll see he's no better than you.”

“I know that,” I said sharply.

“Do you?” Joy asked me. “Do you really?”

At that moment I hated her but there was some truth in what Joy said. Since that afternoon in the park there had been a lot of times when I'd wondered if all the things I'd felt had been in my imagination alone, if I had really been that stupid. I did want to know.

“I'll talk to him,” I said to Joy.

“You won't regret it,” Joy said, smiling with relief.

“No,” I said, shooting her an angry look. “But you will.”