To Murder Matt (26 page)

“Veronique, I can be his father. We can both give him love. Let me love him. Let me love you. He can be ours. Together.” Nico was pleading with her to give him a chance.

“You don’t make a lifelong commitment from a few minute conversation.” She took the baby back.  Now it was Nico’s turn to be incredulous. He couldn’t believe she had just said that. She had no idea what he had been through looking for her. She had no idea of the depth of his feelings for her. He tried to find the right words to explain how he felt.

“Veronique, I have loved you from the first time I set eyes on you many years ago. I have loved you from afar for too long. My decision stands, if you will have me. I am here for you both. I love you and the baby is an added bonus. I will love him as my own, whatever his beginnings. Let me spend my life with you, with you both.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I feel so confused now.” She put Michael back in the carrycot. I have to go. I will think about it.” She left the office with the baby, and Nico was left standing there, shocked, and not quite sure what had just happened. Dean sat down, with much the same shell-shocked look on his face. 

Neither of them knew what Veronique would decide.

S
ince her meeting with Dean at Greens, Ellen had been unable to speak further with him.  She wanted to forget the raw emotions she had felt that day, the stupidity of everything.  She had let a good man go and she wanted him so much it hurt. From the moment she had met Matt, things had spiralled out of control from the abuse she suffered at his hands, to her total isolation from friends and family. Being with Matt was a mistake and it was a mistake that just kept getting bigger and bigger. She felt her frustrations growing and yet her mind was being clouded so much that she no longer knew what was right any more and what was wrong.

The sound of the key in the door made her jump and she quickly picked up a magazine to appear to be busy reading.

“Have a nice day dear?” Matt’s voice was derisory and she ignored him. “Little wifey been busy cooking my dinner?” He disappeared into the bedroom and removed his shoes; she knew he would do this because when he kicked them off they would bang loudly against the wardrobe door. A few seconds later there were the tell tale sounds of banging as his shoes did just that.  She stood up and tidied the already tidy table.

“Phone’s ringing.” She cocked her head, but could hear nothing. He shouted again.  “Phone’s ringing, you stupid cow!”

She automatically went over to the phone and stared down at it. She still couldn’t hear anything.  She looked at it stupidly. He barged passed her and picked it up angrily. He glowered whilst he spoke into the receiver.

“Sorry about that, the wife is going barmy.” She sat down feeling very confused. It hadn’t rung, she was sure it hadn’t. She tapped the table with her nails, and focused on the sound they made. She could hear that. Maybe she had been thinking too loudly.  She shook her head and laughed, just how could someone think too loudly?  Suddenly, she felt her head being yanked up by her hair.

“You stupid woman, you nearly lost me a massive deal. He says he has been ringing for ages.” He jerked her head closer to his, her neck and head being pulled over the back of the chesterfield sofa. He bent down, and she saw his spiteful eyes.  They had that look again.  The look that meant she was in for another beating. “What are you doing all day?  Are you going out of your mind? Huh? Huh?”  He gave another twist of her hair, and she almost winced. “Crazy bitch.” He let go, and she automatically braced herself for a hard punch, or a blow to her head. She waited for ages, and no blow came, and so she looked out of the corner of her eye and saw him walking away in her peripheral vision. She remained totally still, in case he came back and hit her. A few moments later, he came back with his shoes.  As he walked by, he caught her head with one shoe and he grunted with satisfaction at the sound it made against her head. He sat down and put them on, then picked up his jacket and keys. He looked at her with such an evil look.

“I have to go meet him. Sit by the phone and make sure you answer it when I call!”

The door shut after him, and she looked at the phone, and waited for it to ring.  She picked it up, and listened, and heard the purr of the dial tone. She replaced the receiver quickly, in case he called. Keys sounded in the front door, and she looked up to watch the door open. Nothing.  The door remained closed and she wondered if she was imagining things. She looked at the phone again and watched it.  A few minutes later, still staring at the phone waiting, she heard the keys in the door lock again, and looked up. Nothing.  She got up and went to the door. Opened it. There was no one outside. She went back to the phone and picked it up, only the dialling tone was there to greet her once again. Keys sounded suddenly in the lock, and she looked once more to the door, but no one came in. She watched the phone, and waited for it to ring, desperate that she didn’t miss its shrill tone.  The doorbell rang, and she rang to the door, and opened it. There was no one there, and she raced back to the phone, feeling frantic that it might ring when he called, and she would miss it.

“Stop it Ellen,” she said to herself. “Your mind is just playing tricks on you.” Her voice was loud in the empty silence of the house. “I think I will have a bath to relax.  Oh no. I am talking to myself–that is a really bad sign.” She raised her eyebrows,  “Mmm, definitely is,” she said aloud. She had forgotten all about being told to sit by the phone.

Lying back in the warm bath, she let the suds cover her body; she started to feel much better.  She lay there, and closed her eyes, and began humming to herself.  In the distance, she heard keys in the door and her body stiffened. She always hated being naked when he was around. She never knew what he was going to do. Whether it was a perverse sexual act, or even a beating, either way she felt exposed, and vulnerable. Clothes could sometimes protect her, slightly, from the blows that rained upon her. His fists were so hard, and he was so strong, she had given up trying to fight back. It only made him worse.  When he beat her, she tried to go to a safe place in her mind. She would go limp, and wait for the blows to stop.  She was such a normal person. Who would have thought that this would happen to her? This sort of thing happened to others, not successful women like her; she wasn’t the victim. It was just always her fault. She made him angry.  If she could be better then he wouldn’t have a reason to hit her. He had had such a hard life. No wonder he hit her, if she triggered one of his bad memories.  She sat up, and listened to hear if he was coming home, and then decided she had been hearing things. She felt the soap bubbles slowly sliding down her back, and she lay back into the warm water and closed her eyes once more. Under the water, her bruises from all the different times he had beaten her, were less visible. These were the bruises that no one saw. She hid them well.  She was becoming a good liar to herself about how she got her bruises.

Without warning, Matt burst into the bathroom. He grabbed her slippery and wet arm, and dragged her from the water. She opened her eyes in shock.

“You silly fucking bitch. I have been calling you for ages. Why haven’t you answered? I told you to sit by the phone. How many people have been trying to call me whilst you are being lazy? What are you doing in the bath? Did I say you could have a bath?”

“No one has called, don’t be stupid.”  She realised what she had said, the moment the words left her mouth. She hadn’t been thinking. She was just answering him. She hadn’t meant to call him stupid, but it was the red rag to a bull, and all the excuse he needed to slam into her, as if he needed an excuse, that is. He dragged her out of the bathroom, wet and naked. Her arm was still wet, and he dug his nails into it and they went right down to the bone.

“Stop it.” She tried to pull away, wishing at the same time that she didn’t react instinctively, but that she could stay calm, and not excite him further. She knew a struggle excited him, she knew that the more she fought back, the more she answered back, was all fuel to his sadistic fire. 

He threw her onto the bedroom floor. She started to get up, and he kicked her down with the full force of his shoe on her back. He kicked her so hard, that she was winded for a moment. She felt her back smarting, stinging, and a sharp pain in her kidney. He pulled her up, and threw her face down on the bed. He unzipped his fly, and then took out his erect member. Before she could move, he had pinned her down, and rammed himself up her arse. She tried to move, but he put his hand flat on her head, and pushed her face into the duvet. She could hardly breathe. He thrust into her angrily, the agony and pain blinding her. She felt her anal passage tearing and ripping as he pushed himself inside, right to the hilt. He was hung like a donkey, and sex with him always hurt. She tried to move away and flailed her arms behind her. She managed to half twist her body towards him, and grabbed a handful of his hair. At first, he was unaware as he was lost in the ecstasy of his actions. Though the moment he felt the pain, which threatened to ruin his pleasure, he grabbed her arm, and pulled it in the opposite direction, until he heard the satisfying sound of the bone snapping. She screamed in pain and as she screamed it was just what he loved to hear—he climaxed hard, and deep—in her bleeding arse.

A few seconds later, he withdrew and she yelped as he pulled himself from her. She heard him going through to the bathroom to wash himself.  She heard the water running, and she cried quietly into the duvet.  She was in so much pain that she was unable to move. She slowly tried to turn over using her right arm to support her left. The slightest movement sent shooting pains up her arm. The throbbing was unbearable. As she slowly sat up, the air expelled from her arse, and she farted involuntarily.  Despite the tremendous pain she was in, she felt more degradation from the fart and her subsequent loss of dignity, than any of the physical pains caused by the broken arm, or her torn rectum.

Matt came out of the bathroom beaming.

“Sex is getting better isn’t it?  You are starting to know what I like.” He walked casually around her and got into bed.  She got up and started to gingerly walk from the room.

“Where are you going?”

“To get an aspirin,” she croaked.

“Don’t be long. I still have a hard on.” She turned and heard him chuckling as she walked away.  Liquid was starting to run down her legs. She looked and found a mixture of blood, semen and faecal matter.  She felt a sob starting to rise in her throat. She tried to stop it, but couldn’t as pain shot up her arm again. She tried to sit on a chair in the kitchen, but couldn’t, and so she stood and tried to go through the medicine case with one hand. She didn’t know anything about medical matters, but she knew she needed help with her arm. She knew it was broken. Shuffling back to the bedroom, after swallowing a few pills, she was pleased to see Matt was asleep.  She went into the bathroom, cleaned herself up as much as she could, put on some clothes, and grabbing a coat with her good hand, she left the house.

Wandering through the streets in a pain clouded semi-daze, Ellen didn’t know where to go, or what doctor’s office would be open. She was oblivious to the rain and staggered up and down roads at random. A car suddenly braked, to avoid hitting her as she stepped off the pavement. His tyres screeching as he halted. He beeped his horn, but she didn’t hear it she was so lost in the pain.

“Hey, you! Are you all right, love?”  The driver got out of his car, and went to help her as she was still stood in front of his car.  As he touched her, the pain was so much that she blacked out right in front of him.

Opening her eyes, Ellen saw a white ceiling; long fluorescent strip lighting crossed the expanse above her. She knew it wasn’t her home.  Small curls of peeling paint threatened to fall at the slightest and the bright light blinded her eyes. A strong smell of disinfectant assaulted her nostrils and permeated the room she was in. She was alone and had been dressed in a white hospital gown.  Her arm had been set in a heavy plaster cast.  She slowly moved her legs over the side of the bed, the slightest movement causing her arm to throb in the cast. In the corner of the room was a cheap plywood wardrobe, inside which, she found her still wet clothes and coat hanging. She dressed in the cold wet clothes and walked towards the door. Outside the door was a nurse’s station. She guessed she was in the emergency room of a local hospital. On the wall was a large clock showing three o’clock. She had to get back home before he woke up or she would be in trouble. She walked as casually as she could, passed the nurses station and out of the main doors. No one noticed her, except for an ambulance man who smiled at her as she left. 

She didn’t know how far she had walked, but she just kept on walking.  She had nothing in her pockets, except her house keys. She didn’t even have money for a taxi or her mobile.  Had she lost her purse?  She wondered how she had gotten to the hospital in the first place. The streets were deserted, save for a car or two that passed her.  She knew the general direction of her apartment, so she just put one foot in front of the other, until she got there.

The house was in darkness.  Taking the key from her pocket, she quietly let herself in. She was so exhausted, she was actually glad to be back.

“Where have you been?”

She span around and found Matt sitting in the semi darkness of the room, lit only by the street light outside. His face shone in the dark, and his eyes glittered with that look, the look she knew only too well.

“I went to get my arm checked.” She pressed herself back against the door, willing him in her mind not to hurt her. Her right arm was covering her left protectively, which was in the cast.

“What did you tell them?”

“Nothing. I said nothing.” She shook her head. “Nothing. Honest.”

“If I find out anything different... you will be sorry.” He came towards her, his arm outstretched. She pressed harder against the door.  He put his arm around her and she cowered away. He pulled her towards him.