Written in the Scars (The Estate Series Book 4) (30 page)

‘This isn’t your fault,’ Megan objected.

‘Maybe – I don’t know.’ Patricia’s shoulders dropped. ‘But what I do know is the older you’ve become, the more conscious of it you seem. I’ve seen it change you and, well, I don’t think it should. I know that’s easy for me to say because I don’t have to live with it every day.’ She placed a hand on her thigh. ‘But I do have to put up with these things and I would much rather be able to go out and live my life.’

Megan felt herself blushing.

‘We’re all born with something that won’t make us happy. And look at you. You’re beautiful, you’re young and so full of life. You deserve to find happiness and be loved by someone.’

‘I can’t let him see me like this.’ Megan pointed to her face. ‘What happens if he doesn’t like me afterwards?’

‘Then he’s not worth bothering with. Love should be unconditional.’

Megan smiled through teary eyes as her mum beckoned her closer.

‘You are beautiful, even though I’m biased because you are my daughter.’ Patricia cupped Megan’s chin in her hands and looked her in the eye. ‘But just remember one thing, Megan. Beauty is only skin deep.’

Donna walked downstairs to a pile of letters on the carpet. Wincing at the pain, she bent down to scoop them up and took them through to the kitchen. There was a catalogue for Keera, bills, a flyer addressed to her and a plain white envelope. As she opened the envelope and read through the letter, her hand covered her mouth. It was from the hotel that Owen had taken her to.

She reached for her phone. It was answered after a few rings.

‘Ah, Donna. I hope you liked the flowers – I see you didn’t bring them home with you.’

‘I don’t want your flowers,’ she snapped. ‘You gave the hotel my address and then left without paying? They’ve sent me an invoice!’

‘You didn’t think I was going to pay, did you?’ His laugh was cruel. ‘Get real. You’re a slut and deserve to be treated like one. I don’t pay for sex.’

‘But it’s nearly four hundred pounds! I don’t have that kind of money.’ Donna closed the kitchen door in case she woke Keera.

‘You shouldn’t have such expensive taste.’

She pulled out a chair at the table. ‘I can’t afford to pay this. You need to tell them you can.’

‘I can, but I won’t.’

‘Then I’ll go to the police and tell them what you did to me.’

‘We had sex. Granted it was a little rougher than the first few times, but you did agree to my terms.’

‘I did not agree!’

‘You said you trusted me.’

‘You – you raped me.’

‘It was consensual.’

‘It was NOT FUCKING CONSENSUAL!’ By this stage, she didn’t care if Keera heard her, she was so angry.

‘Now you’re behaving like a spoilt child. What did you expect when you gave yourself to me so freely? You’re nothing but a whore.’

‘I am not a—’

‘So you didn’t like the fact that I bought you an erotic novel? And what about sex outside in the open – you remember, in the woods? I thought you were up for a little fun. You certainly gave me the impression you were game for anything.’

I didn’t,’ she sobbed. ‘I really didn’t.’

There was silence down the line before he spoke again.

‘Just remember – no police. And if you dare so much as mention the word rape, I swear to God I will get you for it. ’

‘Leave me alone!’ she sobbed.

Donna disconnected the phone and dropped her head into her arms. She’d have to ring the hotel and explain. Wait, they would have his credit card details, surely? He would have needed them to confirm the booking.

Twenty minutes later, she admitted defeat after she’d called the hotel and they had told her that although the card had been fine on the day they had booked in, when they went to settle the bill after Owen had left without paying, the card had been no longer valid. He must have cancelled it, or reported it stolen after he had given them the details. They had no other address and the telephone number he’d given them was unobtainable.

Despite her protestations, they’d told her if she didn’t pay then they would pass it onto the small claims court.

She wouldn’t pay it. They couldn’t make her, surely? Let them lock her up, she didn’t care.

Donna stared ahead, wondering if there was anything she could do, if there was some small way she could make him pay instead. But she was beat.

Owen had her exactly where he wanted her.

Chapter Forty-One

In The Butcher’s Arms, Lewis had downed one pint but was struggling with the next. For some reason, it left a bitter taste in his mouth. Since being attacked, and having a brushing down off Josie Mellor, he’d begun to think about exactly where he was heading. He’d already made up his mind that leaving the city might be his best option, but first he needed to talk to Amy one more time. He had to get her to take him back and try to fix their marriage again. With her beside him, he could make a go of his life then. He would stop drinking and be a loving husband and model dad.

Leaving his drink on the bar, he marched over to Russell Place. This time he used his key to let himself in. He found Amy in the kitchen.

‘Lewis?’ she frowned. ‘What are you doing?’

Lewis threw his hands out wide. ‘Amy Prophett, I love you!’ 

Amy folded her arms and stood firm.

 ‘Where’s Dan?’ He looked through the garden window, hoping to see him playing football again.

‘He’s out with friends,’ Amy told him. ‘Lewis, I think—’

‘Good, because you and I need to talk.’ Lewis nodded vehemently. ‘Talking is good.’

‘No, you need to talk.’ Amy shook her head. ‘I – I want you to leave.’

‘But I’ve only just got here!’ He held up his hands. ‘And this is my house too. I decorated this room.’

‘It isn’t a house since you’ve moved out,’ said Amy. ‘It’s a home now, for Daniel and me. You don’t live here any longer.’

‘That’s what I’ve come to see you about.’ Lewis smiled. ‘I’m moving back in!’

‘You can’t.’ Amy stood firm.

‘Why not?’

‘Because I can’t cope with you anymore.’

The room dropped into silence.

‘But we belong together.’ Lewis reached forward, grabbing Amy by the arm and pulling her towards him.

‘No, we don’t!’ Amy tried to get away from him.

‘Always and forever.’ Lewis wasn’t listening.

‘Stop it, Lewis, you’re hurting me!’

Lewis lessened his grip on her arm. He looked at her, seeing the fear in her eyes.

‘You’re scared of me?’ His face crumpled.

‘Yes,’ Amy admitted. ‘You come here to talk but it’s only on your terms, and only when you want to. You don’t think of anyone but yourself. And you’re always so … so angry.’ 

Lewis groaned, storming past her as he made to leave. Just before he got to the door, Amy grabbed his hand.

‘Go and see someone,’ she spoke quietly. ‘Please.’

Lewis pulled his hand away. ‘Leave me alone.’

‘But you need help – why won’t you see that? There are people who can—’

‘I said leave me alone!’ Lewis pushed Amy from him.

Amy fell backwards, landing on the floor with a bump.

‘Oh, God.’  Lewis stepped forward and held out a hand. ‘I didn’t mean to do that.’

‘Get away from me.’ Amy shuffled backwards on her bottom.

‘Amy—’

‘GET AWAY FROM ME!’

Amy screamed so loud that Lewis covered his ears. ‘I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to …’ He backed away, turning and heading into the living room.

What had he done?

He paced the room for a few moments before stopping in front of the fire. Resting his hands on the mantelpiece, he stared at himself in the mirror above it. The menacing look in his eye; the frown that had somehow become the norm.

He didn’t recognise himself anymore. Lashing out at Amy had been the last straw. He wasn’t that man – shouldn’t be that man, didn’t want to be that man.

He put his hands to his head on either side of his temple. Then he heard a noise, all at once realising he was roaring like an animal in pain. A hand curled into a fist. He pulled it back and knocked everything from the mantelpiece in one fell swoop.

A framed photograph of him in his army uniform crashed to the floor, the image smiling back at him now with a crack down its middle. It was exactly how he felt, like he had a split personality. Old friendly Lewis trying to find his way again. New angry Lewis who couldn’t cope, and lashed out at anyone who threatened him.

He sank to the floor, and head in hands, he began to cry.

Chapter Forty-Two

Josie was getting ready to head home for the day when she received a phone call from Amy Prophett.

‘I don’t know what to do,’ Amy said after she had told her what had happened with Lewis. ‘His mum is at work so I can’t call her. But I don’t want him in my living room.’

’Do you think you should call the police?’ Josie picked up her mobile phone, ready to locate Andy’s phone number in her contacts. ‘If there’s an officer on the estate, I can get someone to you as quick as I can.’

’No! He doesn’t need locking up.’

‘But if he’s turned violent, he might—’

‘Please, don’t call them.’ Amy paused. ‘Could you – could you come and talk to him?’

‘Me?’ Josie replied. ‘You know I’m not Lewis’s favourite person.’

‘Please, just see if you can make him leave. I don’t want to get him into trouble.’

Josie wondered if turning up would calm the situation or make it worse.

‘He isn’t a violent man,’ said Amy. ‘He’s just breaking down and shutting off from a world that he doesn’t feel a part of anymore. He needs help.’ The line went quiet for a moment. ‘I don’t know what else to do.’

‘Okay,’ said Josie, making a split second decision. ‘I’m on my way.’

Ten minutes later, Josie was shown into Amy’s house.

‘He isn’t usually this bad,’ said Amy, wiping tears away from reddened eyes.

‘I know,’ Josie agreed, ‘but he’s getting worse by the week. I’ve never had so many complaints before.’

Amy gnawed on her bottom lip.   

‘Shall I try to talk to him now?’ Josie asked. ‘We can’t give up on him, and I know that you don’t want to do that.’

Amy nodded. ‘Okay.’

Josie went to the living room door and rapped authoritatively. ‘Lewis, it’s Josie Mellor.’

‘Go away.’

‘I just want to talk to you.’

‘Everyone wants to talk to me!’

‘Amy is really upset.’

‘It’s got nothing to do with you.’

Josie stalled for a moment as she thought what to say next to get a response. ‘You remember when we spoke the other day about the noises in your head?’ she asked. ‘Well, I think I’d like to hear more about them. You can hear them now, can’t you?’

‘I can hear them all the fucking time.’

Josie jumped as she heard a thump behind the door. She took a step away before she realised what might have happened.

‘I think he’s slid down the door on the other side,’ she told Amy who was beside her. She knocked again. ‘Lewis, please let me in so that I can talk to you.’

‘What’s the point?’

‘If you keep getting drunk and into fights, you do realise that sooner or later something really terrible is going to happen? You might not be able to control your anger and you’ll attack someone for no reason. You might even kill them.’

‘I wouldn’t do that.’

‘But you’re trained to kill.’

‘I’m trained to protect!’

Josie grimaced at her bad choice of words. She tried again. ‘Lewis, can I come in for a minute? I feel really stupid talking to a door.’

The silence was unbearable but she didn’t want to be the one to break it. It took a few seconds but the door finally opened. When Lewis came into view, he nodded.

‘Only you,’ he said, looking at Josie.

Josie went into the living room, praying she had read the situation right.

‘Close the door,’ Lewis demanded.

Josie shook her head. ‘I can’t do that.’

‘You can or I won’t talk.’

‘No, really, I can’t. I’m scared of confined spaces and, believe me, sitting in a room with a loose cannon and having no way out would freak me out far more than you.’

Lewis frowned. ‘Are you trying to wind me up?’

‘I’m deadly serious. I would flip.’ Josie glanced around, taking in the mess. ‘Even more than you have, I would say. Can I sit down?’

Lewis nodded. He sat down too, glancing anywhere but at Josie.

‘You seemed to have sobered up a little?’ she questioned.

‘A little.’

There was a pause.

‘How long ago was it when your dad died?’ Josie asked, even though she knew the answer.