Always and Forever (20 page)

“What treachery? What deceit?” I have to find out what he’s
talking about.

“I know you were going to lie for her and cheat me. I know
you had no intention of telling me where she went. You were going to keep it
from me and now I know where your true loyalty lies. If I ever find out that
you’ve kept anything else from me I swear to God I’ll make you sorry. You have
no idea; you have no idea about the ways I can make you suffer. If you ever
disobey me again I promise I will make you pay, do you understand me?” He
brings his face closer to mine which causes his saliva to make contact with my
face.

When I fail to respond to him, he violently squeezes the
sensitive skin of my upper arms and I bite down on my tongue to stop myself
from screaming.

“I understand. I’m sorry.” I whimper, hating myself for
giving into him and for being so terribly weak. However, there’s such a huge
part of me that is so relieved he doesn’t seem to know about where I’ve been
going every Friday. All he knows is the fact that I was going to protect mum
this afternoon and conceal from him the fact that she got called into the
charity store.

“Good. You
really don’t want to disappoint me again,
not if you know what’s good for you.” He twists the soft skin on the inside of
my arms before finally releasing his ruthless grasp. He storms out of my
bedroom and slams the door behind him.

I wait several minutes until I hear the front door close
downstairs. I’ve no idea where he would be going at this time of night but to
be honest, I don’t care. I’d give anything for him not to come back, imagining
all of the horrible things that could happen to him provides me with some sort
of comfort. He could be hit by a car, he could have a heart attack and
collapse, he could upset the wrong person with his bad temper and he could be
left for dead at the side of the road. The numerous possibilities run through
my head and I start to wonder what’s happened to me, I must be evil to find
comfort in the thought of my own father dying?

I don’t know how long I wait in bed but eventually I leave
my room in search of mum. He must have brought her back with him. I gently
knock on her bedroom door and when there’s no answer I slowly push it open.

I find the bedroom empty and decide to check downstairs
instead. The living room is unoccupied and I’m just about to make my way back
up the stairs when I hear a noise coming from the kitchen. My cautious steps
take me forward and I see her. She’s standing over the kitchen sink looking
desolate and heartbroken.

“Mum, are you ok? I’m so sorry, what did he do to you? Are
you alright? Did he hurt you?”

She won’t look at me. She continues to stare out of the
window into the bleak and dismal night. The only reason I can see her face at
all is because of the reflection on the window in front of us.

I’m certain she won’t answer me and I don’t know what to do
to get her to communicate. I try placing my hands on her shoulders, wanting her
to look at me but her body is like a statue. She refuses to move.

“It’s ok, Bethany. I’m alright.” She mumbles softly.

“You’re not. What did he do to you, Mum?”

“Nothing, he did nothing.” Her face is blank and her voice
impassive, it’s as though she’s now without any human emotion which makes me
wonder what he’s done to her.

“Stop protecting him! Where have you been all this time?” I
ask, persisting in my questioning.

“He turned up at the charity store, demanding that I leave
with him. It was horrible, it was so humiliating. He dragged me out of the shop
in front of everyone and… and I’m not allowed to go back there again.”

“Oh, Mum. I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to tell him where you
were but I had no choice, if I lied for you it would have only made it worse.
You know how he is.”

“I know, Bethany. It’s alright, I don’t blame you.” It’s
like she’s reading from a script, she doesn’t even sound like my mum. It’s
terrifying to see her like this.

“But where have you been all this time? You’ve been out for
hours.”

“I’m going to go to bed, I’m so tired.” She closes her eyes
and turns away from me.

“Mum, please.” I implore her to confide in me. I want more
than anything to be there for her. I’ll support her no matter what, if only she
would let me.

“Goodnight, Bethany.”

She leaves me alone in the kitchen. The only sound to be
heard is that of the refrigerator and I’ve never felt more isolated or alone.
I’m once again faced with the horrific understanding that I am trapped with
this man for life. There’s no escape, there’s no freedom and no parole from
this merciless prison I’m incarcerated in.

Feeling weak and utterly exhausted, I crumble to the floor.
I can’t keep doing this, living every single day with a man I loathe is
exhausting. I’m tired of playing Irene to his Soames. I hate every single
minute of my miserable existence with him and I always have. The terrible truth
is that there’s no divorce from me and my father. How do you separate yourself
from your parents when they created you? When they believe they have every
right to be a part of your life and have some say in the choices you make and
the obstacles you face.

I wearily make my way upstairs, he’s still not home, I have
no clue where he is but I pray to God he will never come back.

Making my way into the bathroom, I stand in front of the
mirror and remove my T-shirt. I gasp when I see the state of my arms and what
he’s done to me. There’s bruising all over me, five large fingerprints on both
of my arms. They look even more repugnant because of the great contrast to my
fair skin. I look away in disgust and hastily put my T-shirt back on.

How could he do this to me? He claims to love me but if
that were true he would never be capable of doing this. I lie in bed for hours,
tossing and turning as I contemplate everything that happened this evening.
I’ve been so foolish, I’ve been so stupid to believe that I could ever have
anything different than this miserable relationship with my father.

Despite the horrors that have taken place tonight my final
thought before I enter a restless sleep is of Jake. I picture his chocolate
brown eyes and his confident smile, the one that dazzled me from the beginning.
He’s the only source of comfort within this wretched institution I call my
home. I am trapped; this is my hell on earth that I must endure, always and
forever.

I’ve told no one about the night he came into my room, not
my mum, not gran and certainly not Jake. My arms are covered in bruises and so
tender. I can hardly believe the amount of force he inflicted upon me. At night
I hate to undress because I’m reminded what he did as soon as I see the
bruises. They’re repulsive to me and the fact that he marked my body makes me
despise him more than I ever have, something I didn’t even think was possible.

The thought of going away with him is repugnant and I’m
filled with dread whenever I allow myself to think about it. We’re scheduled to
go in a little over three weeks time and I honestly don’t know if I’ll be able
to cope if I’m forced to leave with him.

All week he’s chosen to ignore me, if I walk into a room he
walks out of it. I thought I would have been grateful but his silence unnerves
me, I have no idea what he’s thinking or what his plans for me will be and I
certainly never thought I’d long for things to be how they once were.

Mum’s still refusing to say anything about what he did to
her that night. All I know is that they were out for hours and when she
returned she was unrecognisable. I’ve tried on numerous occasions to get her to
open up to me but nothing seems to work. My heart broke for her when my father
wouldn’t allow her to go to the charity store this week. She told me he had
said she wouldn’t be going back there on the night I found her in the kitchen
but to actually see it happen was painful. Mum loved that charity shop, it was
her only connection to the outside world and I know she made some great friends
there, friends she’ll probably never see again.

As Friday night approaches I become more and more afraid
that my father will decide to stay home. He doesn’t trust either of us anymore
so I can’t see him choosing to go out and leaving us unsupervised.

The days I work in the bookstore are particularly
unpleasant. Now that he doesn’t trust me my father observes my every move. His
malevolent treatment of me is excruciating but the possibility of seeing Jake
on Friday pulls me through.

Jake still checks up on me
every day, he texts me first thing in the morning and last thing at night
before I go to bed. My replies have been brief but I hope they’ve been enough
to convince him that everything’s ok. If he suspects that I’m keeping something
from him he won’t let it go, he’ll insist that I tell him and that’s the last
thing I want. If Jake knew about what my father did to me he’d be distraught…
and furious.

When my father goes out on Friday night I can hardly
believe it. I was almost certain that he’d stay home to keep an eye on me this
week.

I hastily put on my on my shoes and grab my jacket as soon
as he leaves. I have to get out of here, I’ve been suffocated by this house all
week and now is the time for me to escape, even if it is just for a couple of
hours.

“Bethany, where are you going?” My mum steps into the hall
and places her hand on my wrist before I manage to open the front door.

“I’m going to gran’s. We’ve already discussed this, Mum.”

“But I never thought you would still plan on going after
everything that happened last week.”

“Why did you think that?” I snap at her angrily.

“You know your father; look at what he’s done to me. My
life is here now, trapped within this house. I don’t want the same to happen to
you.” She looks at me imploringly, begging me not to go.

 “I’m already trapped! My existence begins and ends
within this house. I’m only allowed to work in the book store or visit gran.
You really think that’s freedom? You really think this is a good life for me?”
I yell at her.

“Of course not but I can’t change anything. I wish I
could.”

“You can! You can let me leave now. I’m begging you, Mum.”
I take hold of her hand that was wrapped around my wrist and squeeze it
tightly, pleading with her to listen to me.

 “If he finds out he will punish us both and I can’t
bring myself to think what that punishment would be.” She whispers softly
whilst trembling with fear.

“I don’t want to do this to you but I have no choice. I’m
going.” I turn away from her and open the front door.

“Bethany…”

“What?” I whirl around and throw my arms up in frustration.

“Have a nice time.” She gives me a pointed look and for one
moment I wonder if she’s suspicious, if she knows there’s something I’m not
telling her.

Realising the time, I turn my back on the house I’ve now
come to hate and set off in the direction that will lead me to Jake. This past
week has been so horrendous; I can scarcely believe I’m on my way to meet him.

When I’m nearly at our meeting place I suddenly become
aware of the fact that I’ve received no message from him. Jake normally texts
me as soon as he arrives and I haven’t heard from him since this morning. I’m
longing to see him so much, it would be just my luck if something prevents him
from coming tonight.

 It actually takes me a few moments to come to terms
with the fact that Jake’s not there. I’ve become so used to him waiting for me;
it hurts to see an empty space where Jake’s normally waiting. He could just be
running late or he might have got delayed, I consider the possibility of this
whilst I type out a message to him asking where he is.

The minutes tick by and eventually my anxiety starts to
take over, if Jake really is just running late then why hasn’t he let me know?
He always lets me know when he’s on his way so I’m sure he would have the
decency to tell me if he wasn’t able to show. He texted me this morning and
told me that he couldn’t wait to see me later on tonight so where the hell is
he? If anything’s happened to him I won’t be able to cope, what would I do? In
such a short space of time he’s become the most important person in my life and
I’m now unable to imagine a world without him in it.

This past week with my father has been so awful. I can’t go
through all that again, I need to see Jake first. I’ve taken such a huge risk
by sneaking out tonight, if my father decides to come home early and finds out
the truth then I won’t be able to come and meet him next week. This could be
the last time I ever see Jake and he’s not even here.

I glance up and down the street one final time before
deciding to sit down on the pavement and wait. The road in front of me is
quiet, it always is. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a single car drive by since
Jake and I have been meeting here. Remembering the night we first met makes me
smile, I was really rude to Jake that night and he was so lovely to me. The
memory makes me ache with sadness. We’ve spent such little time together,
surely this can’t be it? If anything’s happened to him I don’t think I’ll have
the strength to survive. I just know that something’s wrong because this isn’t
like him. He wouldn’t do this to me, he’s wouldn’t be so thoughtless.

Deciding that enough’s enough, I reach for my phone. The
only thing I can do now is call Jake and pray that he answers. I’m just about
to press the call button when I hear someone calling my name.

“Bethany? Is that really you?”

I instantly recognise that voice but can’t quite place it;
this causes me to jump up in fear as I peer through the darkness. A tall
silhouette approaches me and it’s only when he steps underneath a streetlamp
that I realise who it is.

“Bethany? It is you, isn’t it? I can’t believe this! How
are you?”

“Callum!” My exclamation is joyful and animated. It’s been
two years since we last saw one another and the fact that he’s standing in
front of me right now is astonishing.

Callum was a great friend of mine in college; he took me
under his wing and introduced me to his large group of friends. They seemed to
accept me but I have to admit that I was more comfortable when it was just the
two of us. I was devastated when my father made me leave just a few months
before I would have completed my second and final year. I had even thought
about going on to University but he brought an end to all that, He forced me to
leave without warning and I never even got the opportunity to say goodbye to my
friend.

My father saw me with Callum when he decided to meet me one
day after I finished college.  He was waiting for me when he spotted us
together. It was completely innocent and we were only talking but none of that
seemed to matter to my father, he’d already decided that I wouldn’t be
returning to college the next day.

I was an absolute mess when he told me. He knew what he was
doing when he decided to take away my one bit of happiness. My one piece of
independence was snatched away from me and I didn’t even have a say in the
matter. In a perfect world I would have just told him to go to hell but from a
young age I learnt what the consequences would be if I disobeyed him.

He tried to explain it to me; he said that it was for my
own good and that I was to stay at home until he figured out what I was to do
next. I remember him saying that it was impossible for a girl like me to have a
platonic friendship with a boy. He told me that such things were inevitable and
that Callum would eventually want more. I remember him saying that guys like
Callum only wanted one thing from me and it was his job to see that he would
never get it. I was so appalled and furious with him for saying such despicable
things.  None of it was true but I already knew that it was pointless to
argue with him.

 I really wanted to see Callum one last time. I felt
like I needed to explain things to him and I was desperate to say goodbye. Of
course that never happened; Callum and I had never been to each other’s houses
due to the strict rules and regulations that were already in place by my
father.

I never really confided in Callum about my home life, I
wanted to keep that part of my life separate and when I was at college all I
wanted to do was forget.  He thought it so strange that I didn’t have my
own phone or private email address and after I was forced to leave I spent so
much of my time hating myself for never asking him for his number. I knew it
would have been a huge risk to call him but I would have done anything to
explain my sudden disappearance.

My friendship with Callum was over and there was nothing I
could do about it.  I’ve often thought about him since I left and if I’m
being honest, I still carry some guilt for the way things transpired between
us. I’ve spent so many nights wondering what he must have thought about me after
I left. I didn’t say goodbye or provide him with an explanation. A part of me
is still afraid that he must hate me.

“I can’t believe it’s really you, how long has it been
since we last saw one another? It must have been two years. Wow, has it really been
that long?” He continues to fire questions at me, closing the distance between
us by pulling me into his embrace.

I breathe in his familiar scent and enjoy the comfort of
his strong arms wrapped around me. I never thought I would see this boy again and
I don’t think I’ve realised until this moment just have much I’ve missed him. I
can’t believe he’s actually here.

“Yes, it must have been two years. God, this is crazy,
Callum. The fact that I’m talking to you is crazy!”

“It’s unbelievable; I never thought I’d see you again and
yet here you are standing right in front of me, you look amazing, Bethany.”

I can’t help the inevitable rush of colour to my cheeks,
especially when Callum reaches out and tucks a stray piece of my hair behind my
ear. His touch is so soft and surprisingly intimate; the gesture takes me by
surprise.

“Thank you for the compliment but I look exactly the same
as I did two years ago.  You look great though, Callum. You look really
well.” I tell him honestly.

I can’t help but notice how attractive he is. He always was
and I wasn’t the only girl in college who noticed. He still has the same dirty
blond hair and the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen. His height is far greater than
mine; he must be about the same height at Jake which is around six feet.

“Stop it. You’re beautiful and you always were. You look
incredible.” His eyes wander all the way down my body and back up again. His
obvious admiration should make me feel uncomfortable, I should feel
objectified.  Except his perusal didn’t elicit such a reaction from me and
that’s what I find so disconcerting.

“I really don’t.” I argue.

“You still have no idea, do you?”

I glance up at him and notice the solemn expression on his
face, deciding to change the subject and divert us away from anything
inappropriate I blurt out the first thing that comes into my head.

“So what have you been up to? Are you at Uni?”