Written in the Scars (The Estate Series Book 4) (32 page)

‘How’s your hand?’ Megan asked.

Sam held it up. ‘It’s getting better slowly. Man, those women in physio are brutal! It’s aching so much now.’

Megan smiled. ‘Wimp.’

Sam turned to face her, bringing his arm to rest behind her on the bench. For a moment he stared at her, then he began to speak.

‘Am I wasting my time with you, Meg?’ he asked. ‘I can keep badgering you with texts and phone calls asking if we can meet, but I don’t want you to think I’m a stalker. If you don’t like me enough to go out with me, then you only need to say. I’ll probably curl up and die if you don’t, but …’

Megan didn’t know what to say. She shook her head.

‘Is that a no, you don’t like me? Or a no, I’m not wasting my time with you?’ He gave her shoulder a friendly poke.

Meg looked at him, took in his smile, his warmth, his genuine affection. Her mum’s words rang in her ears.

You’re beautiful, you’re young and so full of life. You deserve to find happiness and be loved by someone
.

She turned towards him slightly.

‘I have a port wine birthmark,’ she blurted out. ‘It’s purple and it’s ugly. It covers most of my cheek, some of my nose, my right eyelid and forehead.’

‘Where?’ Sam narrowed his eyes and studied her face. ‘I can’t see anything.’

‘That’s because I cover it with make-up. Haven’t you ever noticed that it’s trowelled on?’

Sam leaned in closer and tilted her chin upwards.

Almost immediately, Megan felt her skin flushing. Damn, that would make things worse. She needed to look away from the intense gaze of his eyes, but she found herself drawn to them.

‘I look like a freak without any make-up,’ she said, her eyes brimming with tears. ‘I hate looking so made up but I don’t have a choice. It’s that – or let everyone see this!’ She pointed to her face.

‘I get the birthmark,’ said Sam, ‘but I don’t get why you let it bother you so much. Why are you so reluctant to get too close?’

‘There was a boy I met when I was sixteen, Damien Broadhurst. He wasn’t from our school so he hadn’t known me when I was growing up. I hadn’t realised back then how much my friends accepted me the way I was. I got close to him, enough to, well, you know. Afterwards, I confided in him about my birthmark. Up until then I’d covered it up with make-up, but suddenly I felt brave enough to show him. He took one look at my face and I could tell that he was revolted.’

‘But that was one pathetic idiot!’ Sam shook his head.

Megan quickly wiped away a tear that had fallen. ‘He took a photo of me on his phone before I could stop him and he posted it everywhere. It was on Facebook and he texted it to lots of people. He’d added two words to it – baboon’s arse. Some of the kids who’d known I’d got a birthmark but had forgotten about it as it had been covered up for so long, started to tease me. I became the laughing stock of the school again – and the name stuck with me.’

‘But it’s only a birthmark!’

Megan shrugged. ‘Until then, I’d been fine letting some people see it, but after that I covered myself up all the time. I – I kept away from boyfriends, too. I have my work, and I have my mum to take care of and that’s enough.’

Sam grimaced. ‘You have no friends, now?’ He hazarded a guess.

Megan shook her head.

‘I find that hard to believe.’

‘Why?’

‘Kids are usually the first ones to accept people for what they are.’

‘Kids maybe, but teenagers don’t. They’re the first to label us with names that we’re stuck with for the rest of our lives. Baboon’s arse was mine. So once I left school, I purposely lost touch with everyone.’

‘You hid away?’

Megan shrugged.

‘Why do you think you’re not good enough?’ Sam wanted to know. ‘It’s not the birthmark that bothers you, is it? It’s the rejection.’

Megan looked away. Was it being rejected by her father that had made her feel too conscious of her birthmark? Was that when it had become more of an issue, and then exacerbated by Damien Broadhurst?

‘And I thought I was hung up on scars.’ Sam looked at her sheepishly. ‘I’m feeling pretty pathetic about that now.’

Megan reached inside her bag for her purse. Inside it was a photo. She slid it out and gave it to him, holding her breath as she waited for his reaction. The silence almost killed her why he looked at her, then at the photo and then back to her again.

‘Wow, I’m shocked,’ he spoke at last.

‘I told you it was revolting.’ Megan snatched the photo away from him and stood up.

‘Hey.’ Sam’s voice was soothing as he took hold of her hand. ‘I’m shocked that you cover it up so well, that’s all.’

Tears welled in Megan’s eyes as she wondered whether to believe him or not.

‘It’s part of you, so what? It certainly doesn’t turn me off at all, if that’s what you’re thinking. And if you are thinking that, actually, that’s quite shallow to judge me without letting me know.’

‘You’re just saying that.’ Megan looked down at him. ‘Once you’ve gone, you’ll say you’ll call me and I won’t hear from you again.’

‘Sure you will. I’m not giving up that easily.’

‘That’s why I took the photo, so that I couldn’t be humiliated in person,’ Megan carried on as if she hadn’t heard him.

‘You should wear it as a badge of honour.’

‘Now you’re being stupid.’

‘It’s part of you, Meg. It’s what gives you the character you have because it’s made you tougher.’

‘It’s hard to keep it hidden all the time,’ she admitted.

‘You should try being me. I’ve acted up so much in my life that I don’t know who I am anymore.’ Sam sighed. ‘I know you remember me from school too, and know that I’ve been in trouble most of my life. I’ve not been to prison but it’s been close a few times.’

‘But you grew up with friends around you, didn’t you?’ Megan was confused.

Sam shook his head. ‘Not the ones I really needed to be with. Funny though, since meeting you I feel like I want to settle down and – my mother will have a heart attack if I admit this – but once my hand is better, I’m thinking of getting a legit job.’

Megan was taken aback.

‘It’s you! You’re such a grafter and I can see how determined you are.’ Sam looked shamefaced as he continued. ‘I’m sorry that I mocked you for being a cleaner rather than a nurse, as if it’s not a worthy job, because it is. But I like how you get the job done. You’re happy with your lot, Meg, and that isn’t a bad thing. It just makes me realise that I’m not.’

‘Oh?’

‘When the police called to see me at the hospital,’ he raised his hand in the air, ‘I’d been doing something I shouldn’t, clearing away some land so that me and my so-called mates could get easier access to rob somewhere.’

‘Was that Jackson’s Electronics?’ Megan frowned, recalling the headline in the local newspaper that. ‘I read about that.’

Sam nodded. ‘But when it all went wrong, eventually I realised that my mates wouldn’t stick by me. I realised that I didn’t care much either. One of them beat me up as I wanted my cut—’

’Two wrongs don’t make a right.’

‘I know that, but it made me realise that I had nothing to look forward to in my life. And then you came along and that made me realise that I enjoyed being with you, and that I wasn’t about to give up until you made it absolutely clear that you didn’t want to know me.’

Megan checked her watch, realised she’d had far longer for her break than she was allowed. ‘I’d better be getting back.’

‘Meg, I feel a bit soppy saying this,’ Sam stood up, ‘but I think you’re gorgeous. You need to let go … and maybe trust someone again.’

‘What, someone like you, you mean?’

‘You make me sound like a right good catch!’ Sam put his hand to her cheek, resting it gently until she stopped flinching.

Megan knew he would be able to feel the lumps beneath his touch, so she closed her eyes and breathed in the scent of him.

‘I don’t know what you’re worried about,’ he spoke at last. ‘Scars – they all define us but that’s what makes us individual. Unique, I suppose.’

‘So, you won’t be repulsed by it?’

He shook his head.

‘You would be if I didn’t hide it. People would stare.’

‘Let them, I wouldn’t care. And maybe people might not stare as much as you think. Women wear make-up anyway, so at least you can cover it up if you like. Whatever makes you happy.’ He took out his mobile phone. ‘Let’s take a selfie.’

‘No!’ She put up a hand.

‘Yes.’ He held onto it until she put it down.

Megan looked at him and smiled. It might take her a long time to trust him but he was right there for her. Her mum had been right too. Beauty was only skin deep.

Chapter Forty Five

At home alone that evening, Donna was unable to rest. Since Owen had known she’d left the flowers at Shop&Save, she’d been constantly wondering if he would be watching her, ready to strike again when she least expected it. Even still, she tried to put it to the back of her mind, hoping against hope that he would get fed up and leave her alone.

But as she sat in the living room watching
Coronation Street
, there was a knock at her front door. It still came as a shock as she went to the front window, flicked up a slat on the venetian blind to see Owen standing there.

She jumped back as if burned, but he had seen her. In an instant, he was at the window, knocking on it.

‘Let me in, Donna,’ she heard him say. ‘I only want to talk.’

‘So you can attack me again?’ she shouted. ‘Go away and leave me alone.’

‘I need to clear up the misunderstanding.’

His voice was so calm that something inside Donna snapped and she went into the kitchen. Before she opened the back door, she reached for her mum’s old walking stick that was standing up in the corner. She grabbed her keys too and went outside, locking up behind her. Then she hid them under a plant pot. If Owen did get the better of her, he wouldn’t be able to get inside the house.

Her heart pounding in her chest, Donna opened the side gate and walked along the path. As she got near to the corner of the house, she propped up the stick by the side of the wall, so that Owen wouldn’t be able to see it.

He was knocking on the door again as she came into his view. Just looking at him made her want to throw up. She swallowed down bile as she faced him.

‘This is private property,’ she said, hoping she sounded sharp and unafraid. ‘I don’t want you here.’

‘Relax.’ Owen turned to her with a smile. ‘I only wanted to see you because you’re clearly ignoring my phone messages.’

‘That’s because I don’t want anything to do with you anymore.’

‘Don’t be like that.’  His smirk never faltered.

Somehow as Owen walked towards her, Donna managed to stay her ground. She glanced around the street quickly, not seeing anyone in particular, but noticing a few front doors and windows open due to the heat made her realise she could scream if she had to.

As he came closer still, images of Mary being pulled out of the chair by Denise came into her mind. She’d been a bully, too. Remembering, also, how angry she’d felt when Owen had threatened to harm Keera, she stood tall. What he’d done was wrong, and if she let him win, Donna knew she would be a victim forever.

‘What do you really want?’ she challenged as he stood in front of her.

‘You, of course!’ His smile was snide. ‘As if. I’m still not certain that you’ll keep your mouth shut about our little… get-together.’

Channelling her anger yet hiding behind a mask of fear, she pretended to look afraid to let him think he had her attention. He thought he had power over her? He shouldn’t have. No one should.

Her arm reached out to her side. ‘Get away from my house or I will call the police.’

A dark shadow passed across Owen’s face as he drew level with her. ‘You’re in no position to threaten me.’

 Donna’s fingers clasped around the curved handle of the stick. With all her force, she brought it up in the air and hit out at him, aiming for his bicep, hoping to deaden the strength of the muscle.

‘You might think you had the better of me when I was tied to a bed, but I won’t be a victim for you now,’ she hissed. ‘You raped me and I won’t let you get away with it.’

‘You mad bitch!’ Owen’s facial expression was one of surprise.

Donna raised the stick again. Owen grabbed it, pulled it out of her hands and threw it across the garden, out of reach.

He was on her in seconds, pressing her up against the wall. Her arms flailed as she struggled.

He grabbed her chin roughly. ‘You think the police will believe anything you say? I’d only have to play back the phone conversation that we had to let them doubt your word. I recorded it, you see. And you remember, the saucy fun we had the other night, the night in the woods too? I can tell them about that – then how would things look?’ Spittle flew over Donna’s face as he spoke. ‘I’ll deny anything you say. It will be your word against mine, and you’ll have to look over your shoulder for the rest of your life – because I can disappear easily and quickly, but you’ll never know when I might return.’