r_scribbles (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
r_scribbles) wrote2011-08-16 09:42 pm
r_scribbles) wrote2011-08-16 09:42 pm
Entry tags:
Cabin Pressure Fic: Juliet. Part 2
On with Part 2. Warnings for verbal, emotional, physical & sexual abuse continue.
Part 1
-x-
They were indeed delayed in their return flight to Fitton. When they got back, Douglas announced that, since it was getting late, they may as well all just have dinner at the local pub.
Martin, of course, refused, desperate to get back as soon as possible. Carolyn feigned tiredness as well, offering to give Martin a lift back to Juliet’s house on her way back home. Martin went with the cheapest, quickest option, and accepted her offer.
‘Not phoning Juliet?’ she asked her passenger as he gazed anxiously out of the window.
‘Mobile battery ran out,’ he muttered, quietly. ‘Should have charged it properly before I left. Stupid.’
Carolyn waited for a moment. ‘I like your new watch,’ she added, conversationally. ‘Present from Juliet, was it?’
‘Yes.’
‘Not your birthday or your anniversary, is it?’
‘No.’
‘One of those “just because” presents?’
‘Yep.’ Martin still wouldn’t look at her. He fidgeted with the watch, uncomfortably.
‘You know, Gordon used to buy me expensive presents sometimes, too. We’d say they were “just because”. But, we both knew they were by way of apology.’
Martin made no response.
‘He used to hit me, you see.’
Martin still didn’t look away from the window. ‘Sorry to hear that.’
‘Oh, he was fine, at first,’ Carolyn continued, ‘charming, funny… but slowly it started to creep in. Belittling me, both in private and public, telling me how useless I was, how I had no one else to turn to and nobody else would want me on one hand, but jealously controlling my life on the other. And then, sometimes, he’d just snap. Oh, there’d be apologies afterwards, along with admonishments that I should take some of the blame. Then, the promises that it would never happen again, and then the presents.’
Again, Martin didn’t reply.
‘It happens more often than you’d think,’ Carolyn continued. ‘There’s no shame in it…’
‘It isn’t like that,’ said Martin, quietly. ‘It isn’t what you think.’
‘What is it like, then?’ Carolyn asked.
‘Juliet’s a strong woman, and she knows her own mind. That’s part of why I love her. Just… sometimes, she forgets her own strength. We fight – every couple fights, sometimes.’
‘It’s generally not considered “fighting” if it’s just the one person on the attack.’
Martin finally turned to look at Carolyn, scowling. ‘Are you suggesting I hit her back? Oh yes, that’ll make everything much better, won’t it?’
‘No, that’s not what I…’
‘Do you have any idea how horrible I felt that time I lashed out at Kieron? I’m not that sort of person, and I don’t want to be. I promised myself that day that I’d never raise a hand to a woman or a kid ever again. And when I promise myself something, I really mean it.’
‘So,’ continued Carolyn, ‘you do admit that she hits you.’
Martin sighed. ‘Sometimes. But it’s not a problem, really. We’re working on it. Together.’
‘Yes,’ Carolyn replied, ‘I remember that line.’ There was another pause. ‘Anything else you need to “work on, together”?’
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘Well, I learnt the hard way that when somebody feels they have the right to bully and beat their romantic partner, there are certain other liberties they believe they’re free to take with them, as well.’
They stopped at a traffic light. Martin shifted in his seat, his knee jiggling, nervously.
‘Why does every light have to be on red?’ he asked.
‘Martin.’ Clearly, it was time for the Serious Face, again. ‘Has she raped you?’
He snorted a joyless laugh. ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’
‘I’m not being ridiculous.’
‘She’s a woman! I’m a man!’
‘So? We know about the handcuffs, Martin, we know you wanted to get out of them. And around this time, she gets you a designer watch. The first time Gordon forced himself on me, I got a Tiffany bracelet. And he was sure that I wore it everywhere.’
‘It isn’t like that,’ Martin snapped. ‘Oh, I’m sure you and Douglas have made up your minds about what’s been going on behind closed doors, but it isn’t…’ he trailed off, and started again. ‘There was a misunderstanding, that’s all. Miscommunication. We were trying something out, it started to get into a territory that I was uncomfortable with, and… I forgot all about the safe word. So she thought I was just pretending to want to stop. If anything, it was my fault, but she felt so bad about it that she got me the watch.’
‘The safe word.’
‘Yes.’
‘Had you discussed a safe word before?’
‘Of course!’ Martin frowned to himself. ‘We must have done.’
Carolyn pulled up outside Juliet’s house. ‘Here we are.’
‘Thanks,’ muttered Martin, fumbling with the seatbelt.
Carolyn took her own seatbelt off. ‘Mind if I use your loo?’
Martin froze, fear etched on his face. ‘Sorry?’
Carolyn got out of the car and started leading the way towards the house, with Martin scurrying anxiously behind her. ‘I’m getting on a bit, Martin, added to the fact I spent several months of my youth with Arthur kicking away at my pelvic floor. Bladder’s not what it used to be.’
‘Er…’ Martin’s hand trembled slightly as he unlocked the door. ‘OK. As long as it’s quick. Top of the stairs.’
‘Shan’t be a mo.’
Carolyn went upstairs quietly, and waited. She didn’t have to do so for long at all. After a couple of seconds, she heard the door to the living room open downstairs and a voice – female and British this time instead of male and Australian, but all too familiar in its hot, alcoholic slur and dangerous, low growl demand:
‘Where the fuck have you been?’
‘Juliet,’ came Martin’s voice from downstairs, ‘I’m sorry. We got delayed.’
‘We were supposed to be going out for dinner,’ seethed Juliet.
‘I’m sorry. You didn’t say…’
‘Didn’t say?’ Juliet’s voice began to rise in anger. ‘I shouldn’t have to say! I expected you home two hours ago! Why didn’t you call?’
‘My phone ran out of battery…’
Juliet’s voice suddenly exploded into a scream. ‘Don’t give me your pathetic fucking excuses, you useless twat!’
There was a dull thud, down below. Carolyn rested her head against the bathroom door, and closed her eyes. Just as she’d imagined. Just as she remembered.
‘Juliet.’ Martin’s voice was thick. ‘Please. Not now. Carolyn…’
‘Oh, Carolyn, Carolyn, Carolyn,’ Juliet sneered ‘Do you think I give a fuck what that old bitch says? She’s got you wrapped around her little finger, Martin – admit it! Doing all this work for her and she doesn’t even pay you. Delaying you for two hours, ruining our evening, and here I am, feeding you, putting a roof over your head and what do I get, eh?’ Another thud. ‘You’re useless, Martin!’ There was a pause. ‘What are you?’
‘Juliet, let me just…’
‘Say it!’
There were footsteps, moving out of the downstairs hall back through into the living room. Carolyn quietly let herself out of the bathroom, and into the bedroom.
‘Don’t you fucking run away from me,’ railed Juliet. ‘You come back here. Do you want to end up out on your ear? Sleeping in your joke of a clapped-out old van? Or maybe I should take a hammer to that since you’ve obviously got no interest in making a proper living with it, and what the fuck else can you do that’ll actually bring in a bit of money, eh?’
Another thud. Carolyn remembered the sound of a body being shoved into a hard surface. There were a couple of carrier bags under the bed. She started throwing every item of men’s clothing she could find in the drawers into them.
‘Maybe I should take a hammer to your little hands, instead, yeah?’ Juliet’s voice had returned to its threatening growl. ‘Stop you flying away all the time. Makes no difference to me – you wouldn’t be any less of a useless twat. And you know you are, and that only makes it more pathetic!’
‘Juliet… ow! Ah!’
‘Go on, admit it. You’re a useless little man.’
‘Juliet, there’s… ah! Useless.’
‘What was that, Martin?’
‘I’m a useless little man.’
There was another moment of sickening silence. Carolyn counted down mentally to the inevitable backhanded apology. Five, four, three two…
‘God, Martin, I’m sorry,’ sighed Juliet. ‘It’s just that it upsets me so much to see your life at a standstill while you get used by these people. I just think it might be time that you admitted that this flying thing just isn’t getting you anywhere, and moved on. You’re just… and don’t take this the wrong way, I’m only saying because I love you, but you’re just not very good at it. Are you? Are you?’ Another pause. ‘Oh, don’t get upset now, babe. I know plenty of things you are good at…’
‘Not… not now, Juliet.’
‘Come on. Kiss and make up?’
‘You just really hurt me!’
‘Oh, be a man, Martin! For once!’
‘Get off!’
‘Don’t you dare.’
Carolyn speeded up her makeshift packing.
‘I took you in out of that dump,’ Juliet continued. ‘I’ve given you everything you could possibly want, and all I want in return is you, but you make me feel like that’s supposed to be a bad thing. Come on. Come upstairs.’
‘Upstairs…’ Carolyn could practically see the “Oh God I Just Remembered” expression on Martin’s face. ‘Oh, no! Carolyn!’
‘Carolyn?!?’
‘Yes,’ replied Carolyn, coming downstairs with the carrier bags full of clothes, ‘the old bitch is here. Just nipped upstairs to use your loo, but got waylaid, I’m afraid.’
She walked into the living room and saw Martin backed against a wall, a fresh bite mark on the top of one of his arms, with one of Juliet’s fists in his hair, and the other clasped around his crotch.
Juliet looked from Carolyn to Martin, furiously. ‘What the Hell? Martin, why didn’t you tell me she was here?’
‘He tried, Juliet,’ Carolyn told her, ‘but you were rather too busy swearing at him and hitting him to pay attention, as I recall.’
Juliet stepped away from Martin, towards Carolyn. ‘And what do you think you’re doing here – in my house?’
‘Oh, I thought it was your and Martin’s house, these days. Still, not for much longer. In answer to your question, I was packing.’
‘Packing?’
‘Yes, Martin.’ Carolyn raised her eyebrows at the young man. ‘You’re leaving.’
Juliet snatched one of the carrier bags out of Carolyn’s hand. ‘Who the fuck do you think you are, you old cow? His mum?’
‘In a way.’ Carolyn gazed back at Juliet, her back straight, her eyes bright. ‘I assume that you act the way that you do because your father hit your mother, or vice versa, or one of them hit you. And when you finally seek help, which I advise that you do, post haste, you will blame everything on them. Because it’s so easy. It’s a vicious cycle that so many get drawn into. My ex husband’s father used to beat him, which was his excuse for beating me, and one terrible, awful day, going even further than that. And that’s how I was able to see what you were doing, Juliet. Because I’ve had to train myself to be hyper aware of every sign that something nasty might be going on behind a front of cozy domesticity. Because, every time that my sweet natured, naïve son – only a few years Martin’s junior -brought someone home, I’ve had to watch them to assure myself that he hasn’t been so conditioned by his bastard of a father that he allows the same thing to happen to him. Thank God, it hasn’t. But if it did, you’d better bloody believe I’d be in the same situation, doing the same thing – picking up his things and saying…’ she locked eyes with Martin. ‘Dear, we’re leaving.’
‘You’re not leaving,’ Juliet snapped at Martin. She turned back to Carolyn. ‘He’s not leaving. Where would he stay? Thanks to you never paying him, he can’t even afford a deposit for a shitty little attic, now.’
‘I have a guest bedroom that will suffice until he gets back on his feet.’
‘An old woman’s guest room, Martin,’ sneered Juliet. ‘Imagine that! And then you’ll be completely under her thumb…’
‘Under my thumb?’ cried Carolyn. ‘I don’t hit him, or bite him, Juliet. I don’t rape him, you bloody monster.’
‘Oh, and it all comes out!’ Juliet shouted. ‘Been crying to your little friends have you, Martin?’ She turned her attention back to Carolyn. ‘And he really did cry, you know. You ever fucked a crying man? It’s amazing…’
‘Juliet,’ said Martin from his corner, quietly, ‘I’m leaving.’
‘No, you are not!’ Again, Juliet’s attention flicked from Martin to Carolyn. ‘This is all your fault, you interfering old bitch. I think you should leave.’
‘I agree,’ Carolyn replied, ‘but not without Martin.’
‘You are leaving!’ Juliet sprang forwards and grabbed Carolyn by the shoulders. ‘In your car or in an ambulance.’
Martin made an attempt to intervene, but was met with a swift backhander.
‘You stay there!’ Juliet glowered at Carolyn. ‘What’s it to be?’
Carolyn just smiled. ‘I’d like to phone a friend.’
Juliet blinked. ‘What?’
‘A friend,’ announced Douglas, from the living room doorway, ‘with a phone. On which, he just filmed the last few minutes of your heated debate.’
Juliet and Martin just stared at him.
‘Rather a kerfuffle tonight,’ continued Douglas, putting his phone away. ‘Not surprised you didn’t notice Carolyn had taken the spare set of keys off the peg and thrown them down to me from the bathroom window, or indeed notice me quietly letting myself in. Still – interesting conversation, Juliet. I’m not sure which part I think intrigues me more – you threatening to hit a senior lady, or actually hitting your boyfriend, or seeming to brag about having sexually assaulted him. I wonder which part my lawyer would find the most interesting…’
‘You wouldn’t dare.’
‘Wouldn’t I? I wonder how much you’d stand to lose, if you were taken to court over this.’ Douglas stuffed his hands into his pockets, cheerily. ‘Or, we can do things the easy way.’
Juliet took a deep breath, before slumping onto a sofa, despondently. ‘Martin, if you want to go, then go.’
‘I…’ Martin clenched and unclenched his fists, by his sides. ‘I think I should…’ he turned to leave, then stopped.
Juliet sat up. ‘What is it, Martin?’
Martin took off his watch, and carefully put it on a shelf. ‘I don’t want this any more.’
-x-
There was a strange, eerie quiet as they left the house and walked up the drive together.
‘Right,’ said Carolyn after a moment. ‘I’ll drive you, Martin.’
‘My van…’ started Martin.
‘Well, since my taxi’s gone, I’ll need a new mode of transportation for now. I’ll get the van to Carolyn’s in one piece,’ Douglas told him, suddenly in possession of Martin’s van keys, as if by magic. He paused, as Carolyn unlocked her car door and put the few carrier bags of meager belongings into the back. ‘Martin,’ he added, gently, ‘I wasn’t necessarily bluffing when I talked about a lawyer, you know. There’s an awful lot of evidence in your favour if you do want to press ch…’
Martin’s interrupting answer was soft-spoken, but resolute. ‘No.’
‘All right,’ replied Douglas, simply, and departed in the direction of the van.
Carolyn and Martin got into the car and set off towards the Knapp-Shappey residence.
‘It doesn’t make you weak, you know,’ Carolyn announced after most of the journey had passed in silence.
‘Of course it does.’
‘Would you say I was weak?’ asked Carolyn. ‘Think carefully before you answer that one, Martin.’
‘No,’ replied Martin. ‘You’re a survivor.’
‘And now, so are you. And what doesn’t kill us only makes us stronger.’
‘It’s not the same though, is it?’ said Martin. ‘This sort of thing shouldn’t happen to men.’
‘Are you trying to tell me that it should happen to women?’
‘No! Of course not. It’s horrible when men treat women like that. Everybody knows that. But when it’s a woman doing it to a man… well, it’s a joke, isn’t it? A big, funny joke. It’s pathetic. And it’s his fault, for being so weak that he let it happen. For being so…’
‘Don’t say it,’ Carolyn implored.
But Martin did, anyway. ‘Useless.’
‘Martin. Now, I want you to pay attention, because I don’t give compliments like this out easily, but you are far from…’
‘I am, though! I can’t get a girlfriend for years and years, and then when I do find somebody, I let her keep me like a pet. I just let her do whatever she wants with me, because… because it’s that or be alone in that attic again, and now I can’t even afford the attic, any more. And then I let myself get into a state where I was too scared to try to leave, too scared to say no to anything, and then the one time I did try to say no, she wouldn’t stop… And that’s not supposed to happen to men, either. Not from women. I mean, we’re supposed to be up for everything, all the time, aren’t we? We’re the ones who are always supposed to be persuading women for more in the bedroom. We’re supposed to be comfortable with everything a woman wants to do, and more, so if she handcuffs you to the bedstead, and… and…’
‘You don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to.’
‘And buggers you, and then gets on top of you while the thing’s still in, you’re not supposed to start begging her to stop, and you’re not supposed to cry when she won’t. It’s stupid! It’s a big joke!’
‘It’s rape.’
‘It’s pathetic. And it’s the last sex I had. Isn’t that sad?’ He snorted an unhappy little laugh. ‘Last sex I’ll continue to have had for some time as well, I imagine.’
‘Martin,’ sighed Carolyn. ‘Let’s just think about getting through the rest of tonight for now, shall we?’ She turned the car, and it started to crunch up the driveway to her house. ‘And it really makes no difference whether our genitalia are innies or outies. If being treated that way makes one of us pathetic and a joke, then it stands to reason that it does the same for all of us. And since I put up with the sort of thing you’ve been putting up with for much, much longer than you did, then that would make me a far more pathetic joke than you, and I certainly won’t stand for that.’
‘How long did you put up with it? If you don’t mind my asking.’
‘Fifteen years,’ replied Carolyn, curtly.
‘God,’ murmured Martin. ‘What on Earth did he do to you to make you finally demand a divorce?’
‘Nothing.’ Carolyn smiled – tightly, mirthlessly. ‘There was nothing he ever did to me that could make me leave him.’
Martin blinked. ‘He hit Arthur.’
‘He only got to do it the once. And believe you me, I made that bastard pay.’
Martin nodded, a little punch drunk. ‘Good.’
-x-
Douglas parked Martin’s van on the drive just as Carolyn and Martin were getting out of the car, and Arthur met them at the front door, cheerily.
‘Oh, brilliant, so we are all having dinner after all, then? I was looking forward to that, but then you and mum went off, Skipper, and then Douglas suddenly said he had something he needed to do and put me in a taxi… so what was it that made you change your minds? Was it me picking up a takeaway menu and thinking really hard about us all sharing a pizza, because I hoped that might work…’
‘Martin and Juliet have split up,’ Carolyn explained.
Arthur’s expression didn’t change. ‘Oh well, Skip. Plenty more fridges in the sea.’
‘He’s going to stay with us for a little while,’ added Carolyn.
Arthur’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. A Christmas tree on fire. ‘Really?!? Oh, wow. Wow! Can he sleep in my room, Mum?’
‘He’s not a pet!’
‘Can we get bunk beds?’
‘No!’ protested Martin.
‘Alas, Arthur, my funds won’t stretch to a new set of bunk beds for the pair of you. The double in the guest bedroom will have to do.’
‘Oh. Never mind! Are we having pizza, then?’
‘I’m happy with that,’ Carolyn replied. ‘Douglas?’
‘Suits me fine.’
‘I’m not very hungry…’ Martin attempted.
‘Pizza all round, then,’ interrupted Carolyn. ‘And some stiff drinks to start with too, I think.’ She paused. ‘By which, I don’t mean to put starch in them.’
‘I’ll get them,’ offered Douglas. ‘I assume you have a very good imaginary Stoli Elit that I can have with my orange juice.’
‘Yes,’ replied Carolyn, ‘you’ll find it next to the imaginary bottle of Hendricks that your hand will waver over before pouring Martin, Arthur and I rather large measures of Sainsbury’s own brand gin.’ She fixed Douglas with a hard glare. ‘If I can so much as taste the T in tonight’s G&T, you’re fired.’
Douglas leaned against the balcony railings, looking out at the dark garden beyond, washing away the aftertaste of a rather greasy pizza with his fourth Imaginary Stoli.
The French doors opened, and Carolyn stepped out. They stood together in silence, for a while.
‘How’s he doing in there?’ asked Douglas.
‘He’ll have a devil of a hangover to take his mind off the rest of his woes, tomorrow,’ Carolyn replied. ‘He’s still a long way away from fine, but he’s on the right track at least, now.’ She paused, taking another sip of her Mostly G With A Splash Of T. ‘I’d like my own Lawyers to have a look at a copy of that video you took tonight.’
‘Carolyn, you know he’s never going to press charges against her. You’ll be lucky if he doesn’t cave and think about going back to that wretched bully in the next few days.’
‘I’m aware of that,’ Carolyn replied. ‘If he tries to go back to her, I’ll threaten to sack him.’
‘What if he calls your bluff?’
Carolyn’s mouth quirked into a smile. ‘Well done, Douglas. You almost managed to say that with a straight face.’
Douglas laughed, lightly. ‘Damn.’
‘I’m also all too aware that he’ll never press charges for what she did to him.’ Carolyn raised an eyebrow. ‘Doesn’t mean I can’t.’
‘Oh,’ said Douglas. ‘Yes, she did threaten you, didn’t she?’
‘Assaulted a nice old lady,’ sighed Carolyn, shaking her head. ‘Verbally and physically – you filmed her grabbing me.’
‘She won’t get much, for that.’
‘She’ll get a criminal record,’ Carolyn replied. ‘After all, that’s what she is – a violent criminal who preys on the vulnerable. I just want it to be official.’
‘I really would hate to get on the wrong side of you, Carolyn.’
‘Oh, you’d better believe it.’
The door to the balcony opened again, and a rather pink faced Arthur rolled out.
‘Mum, you know how you said that if Skip started singing “All By Myself”, it meant it was time for him to go to bed…?’
‘Yes. Don’t tell me he’s actually doing it!’
‘No – that’s what I meant to ask you. What does it mean if he starts singing “Rainy Days And Mondays”?’
‘Oh, dear,’ sighed Douglas.
‘And he’s doing the harmony bits himself,’ Arthur added.
‘Good Lord,’ Carolyn replied, ‘it’s worse than I thought.’
They walked back in to find Martin standing and swaying, gin bottle in hand, vaguely harmonising with himself.
‘Funny but it seems that it’s the only thing to, only thing to do, run and find the one who loves me, ooohh, ooh, ooh ooh…’
‘Time, gentlemen, please,’ called Douglas, getting his coat.
‘What I feel has come and gone before, oohh, oohh…’
Carolyn took Martin gently by the shoulders and started leading him upstairs. ‘Come along, Karen Carpenter.’
‘No need to talk it out, to talk it, we know what it’s all about. Hangin’ around, hangin’ arou-ou-ou-ou-ound… Rainy days and Mondays all! Ways! Get!’ He stopped suddenly at the top of the stairs. ‘…me dowwwww…’ he took in a deep, shuddering breath. ‘…owwwwwn.’
‘Very nice,’ said Carolyn. ‘I’d ask if you do requests, but at the state of drunkenness you’ve currently reached, you probably would.’
‘Night, Skip,’ called Arthur from the foot of the stairs. ‘We can always play We Sing tomorrow. Or Mario Kart! Or Boggle! You don’t even need to plug the Wii in for that!’
‘Arthur,’ called down Carolyn, ‘you’d better get a pint glass of water for our sozzled guest. And a bucket. He’s not throwing up on my Laura Ashley carpet.’
‘Right you are, Mum!’ Arthur wandered off in the direction of the kitchen, all the while enthusing about how much fun this was going to be.
Carolyn directed Martin towards the guest bedroom. The drunk pilot took three steps into the room, then pitched forwards and collapsed, face first and sideways on on top of the bed.
Carolyn stood back, frowned, then decided that Martin should probably be relieved of his shoes if this was the way he was going to stay for the night.
‘What a mess,’ muttered Martin as she pulled his shoes off. ‘I’m sorry, Carolyn.’
‘Martin Crieff, you have many things in this world to apologise for, but what that woman did to you is not one of them. Hopefully you’ll see that in time, and things will start to get better. You know, with some proper advertising and a quick service for that van of yours, I bet you could afford to charge a decent amount. You’ll have enough for a deposit and rent in no time. You might even get a nicer place to live this time around. No more worrying about how she’ll react if you’re late or don’t phone in time. You’ll be able to go out and socialise whenever you like, see Big Mart… Other Martin. And I bet he knows lots of women he could introduce you to.’
‘Oh yes,’ slurred Martin. ‘I’m sure the girls will be beating down the door as soon as they hear I’m single again.’ He turned onto his back, with a groan. ‘Who’s going to want me? Juliet was right.’
‘Juliet said what she did because she was terrified of you leaving – rightfully so.’ Carolyn tugged at the quilt until it was covering Martin over. ‘There are plenty of girls out there – nice girls – who would appreciate you. You’ve got a lot to give. And I’m not just saying that because you’re drunk and won’t remember me doing so in the morning. Although, that is a contributing factor.’ She stepped back, towards the door. ‘Arthur will be up in a second with your water, all right?’
‘Mmf.’ Martin turned over again, burying his face in the pillow. ‘Thanks, Mum.’
Carolyn drew breath to give a cutting reply, but thought better of it, on this occasion.
‘Good night, Martin.’
She switched off the light.
THE END
Part 1
-x-
They were indeed delayed in their return flight to Fitton. When they got back, Douglas announced that, since it was getting late, they may as well all just have dinner at the local pub.
Martin, of course, refused, desperate to get back as soon as possible. Carolyn feigned tiredness as well, offering to give Martin a lift back to Juliet’s house on her way back home. Martin went with the cheapest, quickest option, and accepted her offer.
‘Not phoning Juliet?’ she asked her passenger as he gazed anxiously out of the window.
‘Mobile battery ran out,’ he muttered, quietly. ‘Should have charged it properly before I left. Stupid.’
Carolyn waited for a moment. ‘I like your new watch,’ she added, conversationally. ‘Present from Juliet, was it?’
‘Yes.’
‘Not your birthday or your anniversary, is it?’
‘No.’
‘One of those “just because” presents?’
‘Yep.’ Martin still wouldn’t look at her. He fidgeted with the watch, uncomfortably.
‘You know, Gordon used to buy me expensive presents sometimes, too. We’d say they were “just because”. But, we both knew they were by way of apology.’
Martin made no response.
‘He used to hit me, you see.’
Martin still didn’t look away from the window. ‘Sorry to hear that.’
‘Oh, he was fine, at first,’ Carolyn continued, ‘charming, funny… but slowly it started to creep in. Belittling me, both in private and public, telling me how useless I was, how I had no one else to turn to and nobody else would want me on one hand, but jealously controlling my life on the other. And then, sometimes, he’d just snap. Oh, there’d be apologies afterwards, along with admonishments that I should take some of the blame. Then, the promises that it would never happen again, and then the presents.’
Again, Martin didn’t reply.
‘It happens more often than you’d think,’ Carolyn continued. ‘There’s no shame in it…’
‘It isn’t like that,’ said Martin, quietly. ‘It isn’t what you think.’
‘What is it like, then?’ Carolyn asked.
‘Juliet’s a strong woman, and she knows her own mind. That’s part of why I love her. Just… sometimes, she forgets her own strength. We fight – every couple fights, sometimes.’
‘It’s generally not considered “fighting” if it’s just the one person on the attack.’
Martin finally turned to look at Carolyn, scowling. ‘Are you suggesting I hit her back? Oh yes, that’ll make everything much better, won’t it?’
‘No, that’s not what I…’
‘Do you have any idea how horrible I felt that time I lashed out at Kieron? I’m not that sort of person, and I don’t want to be. I promised myself that day that I’d never raise a hand to a woman or a kid ever again. And when I promise myself something, I really mean it.’
‘So,’ continued Carolyn, ‘you do admit that she hits you.’
Martin sighed. ‘Sometimes. But it’s not a problem, really. We’re working on it. Together.’
‘Yes,’ Carolyn replied, ‘I remember that line.’ There was another pause. ‘Anything else you need to “work on, together”?’
‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘Well, I learnt the hard way that when somebody feels they have the right to bully and beat their romantic partner, there are certain other liberties they believe they’re free to take with them, as well.’
They stopped at a traffic light. Martin shifted in his seat, his knee jiggling, nervously.
‘Why does every light have to be on red?’ he asked.
‘Martin.’ Clearly, it was time for the Serious Face, again. ‘Has she raped you?’
He snorted a joyless laugh. ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’
‘I’m not being ridiculous.’
‘She’s a woman! I’m a man!’
‘So? We know about the handcuffs, Martin, we know you wanted to get out of them. And around this time, she gets you a designer watch. The first time Gordon forced himself on me, I got a Tiffany bracelet. And he was sure that I wore it everywhere.’
‘It isn’t like that,’ Martin snapped. ‘Oh, I’m sure you and Douglas have made up your minds about what’s been going on behind closed doors, but it isn’t…’ he trailed off, and started again. ‘There was a misunderstanding, that’s all. Miscommunication. We were trying something out, it started to get into a territory that I was uncomfortable with, and… I forgot all about the safe word. So she thought I was just pretending to want to stop. If anything, it was my fault, but she felt so bad about it that she got me the watch.’
‘The safe word.’
‘Yes.’
‘Had you discussed a safe word before?’
‘Of course!’ Martin frowned to himself. ‘We must have done.’
Carolyn pulled up outside Juliet’s house. ‘Here we are.’
‘Thanks,’ muttered Martin, fumbling with the seatbelt.
Carolyn took her own seatbelt off. ‘Mind if I use your loo?’
Martin froze, fear etched on his face. ‘Sorry?’
Carolyn got out of the car and started leading the way towards the house, with Martin scurrying anxiously behind her. ‘I’m getting on a bit, Martin, added to the fact I spent several months of my youth with Arthur kicking away at my pelvic floor. Bladder’s not what it used to be.’
‘Er…’ Martin’s hand trembled slightly as he unlocked the door. ‘OK. As long as it’s quick. Top of the stairs.’
‘Shan’t be a mo.’
Carolyn went upstairs quietly, and waited. She didn’t have to do so for long at all. After a couple of seconds, she heard the door to the living room open downstairs and a voice – female and British this time instead of male and Australian, but all too familiar in its hot, alcoholic slur and dangerous, low growl demand:
‘Where the fuck have you been?’
‘Juliet,’ came Martin’s voice from downstairs, ‘I’m sorry. We got delayed.’
‘We were supposed to be going out for dinner,’ seethed Juliet.
‘I’m sorry. You didn’t say…’
‘Didn’t say?’ Juliet’s voice began to rise in anger. ‘I shouldn’t have to say! I expected you home two hours ago! Why didn’t you call?’
‘My phone ran out of battery…’
Juliet’s voice suddenly exploded into a scream. ‘Don’t give me your pathetic fucking excuses, you useless twat!’
There was a dull thud, down below. Carolyn rested her head against the bathroom door, and closed her eyes. Just as she’d imagined. Just as she remembered.
‘Juliet.’ Martin’s voice was thick. ‘Please. Not now. Carolyn…’
‘Oh, Carolyn, Carolyn, Carolyn,’ Juliet sneered ‘Do you think I give a fuck what that old bitch says? She’s got you wrapped around her little finger, Martin – admit it! Doing all this work for her and she doesn’t even pay you. Delaying you for two hours, ruining our evening, and here I am, feeding you, putting a roof over your head and what do I get, eh?’ Another thud. ‘You’re useless, Martin!’ There was a pause. ‘What are you?’
‘Juliet, let me just…’
‘Say it!’
There were footsteps, moving out of the downstairs hall back through into the living room. Carolyn quietly let herself out of the bathroom, and into the bedroom.
‘Don’t you fucking run away from me,’ railed Juliet. ‘You come back here. Do you want to end up out on your ear? Sleeping in your joke of a clapped-out old van? Or maybe I should take a hammer to that since you’ve obviously got no interest in making a proper living with it, and what the fuck else can you do that’ll actually bring in a bit of money, eh?’
Another thud. Carolyn remembered the sound of a body being shoved into a hard surface. There were a couple of carrier bags under the bed. She started throwing every item of men’s clothing she could find in the drawers into them.
‘Maybe I should take a hammer to your little hands, instead, yeah?’ Juliet’s voice had returned to its threatening growl. ‘Stop you flying away all the time. Makes no difference to me – you wouldn’t be any less of a useless twat. And you know you are, and that only makes it more pathetic!’
‘Juliet… ow! Ah!’
‘Go on, admit it. You’re a useless little man.’
‘Juliet, there’s… ah! Useless.’
‘What was that, Martin?’
‘I’m a useless little man.’
There was another moment of sickening silence. Carolyn counted down mentally to the inevitable backhanded apology. Five, four, three two…
‘God, Martin, I’m sorry,’ sighed Juliet. ‘It’s just that it upsets me so much to see your life at a standstill while you get used by these people. I just think it might be time that you admitted that this flying thing just isn’t getting you anywhere, and moved on. You’re just… and don’t take this the wrong way, I’m only saying because I love you, but you’re just not very good at it. Are you? Are you?’ Another pause. ‘Oh, don’t get upset now, babe. I know plenty of things you are good at…’
‘Not… not now, Juliet.’
‘Come on. Kiss and make up?’
‘You just really hurt me!’
‘Oh, be a man, Martin! For once!’
‘Get off!’
‘Don’t you dare.’
Carolyn speeded up her makeshift packing.
‘I took you in out of that dump,’ Juliet continued. ‘I’ve given you everything you could possibly want, and all I want in return is you, but you make me feel like that’s supposed to be a bad thing. Come on. Come upstairs.’
‘Upstairs…’ Carolyn could practically see the “Oh God I Just Remembered” expression on Martin’s face. ‘Oh, no! Carolyn!’
‘Carolyn?!?’
‘Yes,’ replied Carolyn, coming downstairs with the carrier bags full of clothes, ‘the old bitch is here. Just nipped upstairs to use your loo, but got waylaid, I’m afraid.’
She walked into the living room and saw Martin backed against a wall, a fresh bite mark on the top of one of his arms, with one of Juliet’s fists in his hair, and the other clasped around his crotch.
Juliet looked from Carolyn to Martin, furiously. ‘What the Hell? Martin, why didn’t you tell me she was here?’
‘He tried, Juliet,’ Carolyn told her, ‘but you were rather too busy swearing at him and hitting him to pay attention, as I recall.’
Juliet stepped away from Martin, towards Carolyn. ‘And what do you think you’re doing here – in my house?’
‘Oh, I thought it was your and Martin’s house, these days. Still, not for much longer. In answer to your question, I was packing.’
‘Packing?’
‘Yes, Martin.’ Carolyn raised her eyebrows at the young man. ‘You’re leaving.’
Juliet snatched one of the carrier bags out of Carolyn’s hand. ‘Who the fuck do you think you are, you old cow? His mum?’
‘In a way.’ Carolyn gazed back at Juliet, her back straight, her eyes bright. ‘I assume that you act the way that you do because your father hit your mother, or vice versa, or one of them hit you. And when you finally seek help, which I advise that you do, post haste, you will blame everything on them. Because it’s so easy. It’s a vicious cycle that so many get drawn into. My ex husband’s father used to beat him, which was his excuse for beating me, and one terrible, awful day, going even further than that. And that’s how I was able to see what you were doing, Juliet. Because I’ve had to train myself to be hyper aware of every sign that something nasty might be going on behind a front of cozy domesticity. Because, every time that my sweet natured, naïve son – only a few years Martin’s junior -brought someone home, I’ve had to watch them to assure myself that he hasn’t been so conditioned by his bastard of a father that he allows the same thing to happen to him. Thank God, it hasn’t. But if it did, you’d better bloody believe I’d be in the same situation, doing the same thing – picking up his things and saying…’ she locked eyes with Martin. ‘Dear, we’re leaving.’
‘You’re not leaving,’ Juliet snapped at Martin. She turned back to Carolyn. ‘He’s not leaving. Where would he stay? Thanks to you never paying him, he can’t even afford a deposit for a shitty little attic, now.’
‘I have a guest bedroom that will suffice until he gets back on his feet.’
‘An old woman’s guest room, Martin,’ sneered Juliet. ‘Imagine that! And then you’ll be completely under her thumb…’
‘Under my thumb?’ cried Carolyn. ‘I don’t hit him, or bite him, Juliet. I don’t rape him, you bloody monster.’
‘Oh, and it all comes out!’ Juliet shouted. ‘Been crying to your little friends have you, Martin?’ She turned her attention back to Carolyn. ‘And he really did cry, you know. You ever fucked a crying man? It’s amazing…’
‘Juliet,’ said Martin from his corner, quietly, ‘I’m leaving.’
‘No, you are not!’ Again, Juliet’s attention flicked from Martin to Carolyn. ‘This is all your fault, you interfering old bitch. I think you should leave.’
‘I agree,’ Carolyn replied, ‘but not without Martin.’
‘You are leaving!’ Juliet sprang forwards and grabbed Carolyn by the shoulders. ‘In your car or in an ambulance.’
Martin made an attempt to intervene, but was met with a swift backhander.
‘You stay there!’ Juliet glowered at Carolyn. ‘What’s it to be?’
Carolyn just smiled. ‘I’d like to phone a friend.’
Juliet blinked. ‘What?’
‘A friend,’ announced Douglas, from the living room doorway, ‘with a phone. On which, he just filmed the last few minutes of your heated debate.’
Juliet and Martin just stared at him.
‘Rather a kerfuffle tonight,’ continued Douglas, putting his phone away. ‘Not surprised you didn’t notice Carolyn had taken the spare set of keys off the peg and thrown them down to me from the bathroom window, or indeed notice me quietly letting myself in. Still – interesting conversation, Juliet. I’m not sure which part I think intrigues me more – you threatening to hit a senior lady, or actually hitting your boyfriend, or seeming to brag about having sexually assaulted him. I wonder which part my lawyer would find the most interesting…’
‘You wouldn’t dare.’
‘Wouldn’t I? I wonder how much you’d stand to lose, if you were taken to court over this.’ Douglas stuffed his hands into his pockets, cheerily. ‘Or, we can do things the easy way.’
Juliet took a deep breath, before slumping onto a sofa, despondently. ‘Martin, if you want to go, then go.’
‘I…’ Martin clenched and unclenched his fists, by his sides. ‘I think I should…’ he turned to leave, then stopped.
Juliet sat up. ‘What is it, Martin?’
Martin took off his watch, and carefully put it on a shelf. ‘I don’t want this any more.’
-x-
There was a strange, eerie quiet as they left the house and walked up the drive together.
‘Right,’ said Carolyn after a moment. ‘I’ll drive you, Martin.’
‘My van…’ started Martin.
‘Well, since my taxi’s gone, I’ll need a new mode of transportation for now. I’ll get the van to Carolyn’s in one piece,’ Douglas told him, suddenly in possession of Martin’s van keys, as if by magic. He paused, as Carolyn unlocked her car door and put the few carrier bags of meager belongings into the back. ‘Martin,’ he added, gently, ‘I wasn’t necessarily bluffing when I talked about a lawyer, you know. There’s an awful lot of evidence in your favour if you do want to press ch…’
Martin’s interrupting answer was soft-spoken, but resolute. ‘No.’
‘All right,’ replied Douglas, simply, and departed in the direction of the van.
Carolyn and Martin got into the car and set off towards the Knapp-Shappey residence.
‘It doesn’t make you weak, you know,’ Carolyn announced after most of the journey had passed in silence.
‘Of course it does.’
‘Would you say I was weak?’ asked Carolyn. ‘Think carefully before you answer that one, Martin.’
‘No,’ replied Martin. ‘You’re a survivor.’
‘And now, so are you. And what doesn’t kill us only makes us stronger.’
‘It’s not the same though, is it?’ said Martin. ‘This sort of thing shouldn’t happen to men.’
‘Are you trying to tell me that it should happen to women?’
‘No! Of course not. It’s horrible when men treat women like that. Everybody knows that. But when it’s a woman doing it to a man… well, it’s a joke, isn’t it? A big, funny joke. It’s pathetic. And it’s his fault, for being so weak that he let it happen. For being so…’
‘Don’t say it,’ Carolyn implored.
But Martin did, anyway. ‘Useless.’
‘Martin. Now, I want you to pay attention, because I don’t give compliments like this out easily, but you are far from…’
‘I am, though! I can’t get a girlfriend for years and years, and then when I do find somebody, I let her keep me like a pet. I just let her do whatever she wants with me, because… because it’s that or be alone in that attic again, and now I can’t even afford the attic, any more. And then I let myself get into a state where I was too scared to try to leave, too scared to say no to anything, and then the one time I did try to say no, she wouldn’t stop… And that’s not supposed to happen to men, either. Not from women. I mean, we’re supposed to be up for everything, all the time, aren’t we? We’re the ones who are always supposed to be persuading women for more in the bedroom. We’re supposed to be comfortable with everything a woman wants to do, and more, so if she handcuffs you to the bedstead, and… and…’
‘You don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to.’
‘And buggers you, and then gets on top of you while the thing’s still in, you’re not supposed to start begging her to stop, and you’re not supposed to cry when she won’t. It’s stupid! It’s a big joke!’
‘It’s rape.’
‘It’s pathetic. And it’s the last sex I had. Isn’t that sad?’ He snorted an unhappy little laugh. ‘Last sex I’ll continue to have had for some time as well, I imagine.’
‘Martin,’ sighed Carolyn. ‘Let’s just think about getting through the rest of tonight for now, shall we?’ She turned the car, and it started to crunch up the driveway to her house. ‘And it really makes no difference whether our genitalia are innies or outies. If being treated that way makes one of us pathetic and a joke, then it stands to reason that it does the same for all of us. And since I put up with the sort of thing you’ve been putting up with for much, much longer than you did, then that would make me a far more pathetic joke than you, and I certainly won’t stand for that.’
‘How long did you put up with it? If you don’t mind my asking.’
‘Fifteen years,’ replied Carolyn, curtly.
‘God,’ murmured Martin. ‘What on Earth did he do to you to make you finally demand a divorce?’
‘Nothing.’ Carolyn smiled – tightly, mirthlessly. ‘There was nothing he ever did to me that could make me leave him.’
Martin blinked. ‘He hit Arthur.’
‘He only got to do it the once. And believe you me, I made that bastard pay.’
Martin nodded, a little punch drunk. ‘Good.’
-x-
Douglas parked Martin’s van on the drive just as Carolyn and Martin were getting out of the car, and Arthur met them at the front door, cheerily.
‘Oh, brilliant, so we are all having dinner after all, then? I was looking forward to that, but then you and mum went off, Skipper, and then Douglas suddenly said he had something he needed to do and put me in a taxi… so what was it that made you change your minds? Was it me picking up a takeaway menu and thinking really hard about us all sharing a pizza, because I hoped that might work…’
‘Martin and Juliet have split up,’ Carolyn explained.
Arthur’s expression didn’t change. ‘Oh well, Skip. Plenty more fridges in the sea.’
‘He’s going to stay with us for a little while,’ added Carolyn.
Arthur’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. A Christmas tree on fire. ‘Really?!? Oh, wow. Wow! Can he sleep in my room, Mum?’
‘He’s not a pet!’
‘Can we get bunk beds?’
‘No!’ protested Martin.
‘Alas, Arthur, my funds won’t stretch to a new set of bunk beds for the pair of you. The double in the guest bedroom will have to do.’
‘Oh. Never mind! Are we having pizza, then?’
‘I’m happy with that,’ Carolyn replied. ‘Douglas?’
‘Suits me fine.’
‘I’m not very hungry…’ Martin attempted.
‘Pizza all round, then,’ interrupted Carolyn. ‘And some stiff drinks to start with too, I think.’ She paused. ‘By which, I don’t mean to put starch in them.’
‘I’ll get them,’ offered Douglas. ‘I assume you have a very good imaginary Stoli Elit that I can have with my orange juice.’
‘Yes,’ replied Carolyn, ‘you’ll find it next to the imaginary bottle of Hendricks that your hand will waver over before pouring Martin, Arthur and I rather large measures of Sainsbury’s own brand gin.’ She fixed Douglas with a hard glare. ‘If I can so much as taste the T in tonight’s G&T, you’re fired.’
Douglas leaned against the balcony railings, looking out at the dark garden beyond, washing away the aftertaste of a rather greasy pizza with his fourth Imaginary Stoli.
The French doors opened, and Carolyn stepped out. They stood together in silence, for a while.
‘How’s he doing in there?’ asked Douglas.
‘He’ll have a devil of a hangover to take his mind off the rest of his woes, tomorrow,’ Carolyn replied. ‘He’s still a long way away from fine, but he’s on the right track at least, now.’ She paused, taking another sip of her Mostly G With A Splash Of T. ‘I’d like my own Lawyers to have a look at a copy of that video you took tonight.’
‘Carolyn, you know he’s never going to press charges against her. You’ll be lucky if he doesn’t cave and think about going back to that wretched bully in the next few days.’
‘I’m aware of that,’ Carolyn replied. ‘If he tries to go back to her, I’ll threaten to sack him.’
‘What if he calls your bluff?’
Carolyn’s mouth quirked into a smile. ‘Well done, Douglas. You almost managed to say that with a straight face.’
Douglas laughed, lightly. ‘Damn.’
‘I’m also all too aware that he’ll never press charges for what she did to him.’ Carolyn raised an eyebrow. ‘Doesn’t mean I can’t.’
‘Oh,’ said Douglas. ‘Yes, she did threaten you, didn’t she?’
‘Assaulted a nice old lady,’ sighed Carolyn, shaking her head. ‘Verbally and physically – you filmed her grabbing me.’
‘She won’t get much, for that.’
‘She’ll get a criminal record,’ Carolyn replied. ‘After all, that’s what she is – a violent criminal who preys on the vulnerable. I just want it to be official.’
‘I really would hate to get on the wrong side of you, Carolyn.’
‘Oh, you’d better believe it.’
The door to the balcony opened again, and a rather pink faced Arthur rolled out.
‘Mum, you know how you said that if Skip started singing “All By Myself”, it meant it was time for him to go to bed…?’
‘Yes. Don’t tell me he’s actually doing it!’
‘No – that’s what I meant to ask you. What does it mean if he starts singing “Rainy Days And Mondays”?’
‘Oh, dear,’ sighed Douglas.
‘And he’s doing the harmony bits himself,’ Arthur added.
‘Good Lord,’ Carolyn replied, ‘it’s worse than I thought.’
They walked back in to find Martin standing and swaying, gin bottle in hand, vaguely harmonising with himself.
‘Funny but it seems that it’s the only thing to, only thing to do, run and find the one who loves me, ooohh, ooh, ooh ooh…’
‘Time, gentlemen, please,’ called Douglas, getting his coat.
‘What I feel has come and gone before, oohh, oohh…’
Carolyn took Martin gently by the shoulders and started leading him upstairs. ‘Come along, Karen Carpenter.’
‘No need to talk it out, to talk it, we know what it’s all about. Hangin’ around, hangin’ arou-ou-ou-ou-ound… Rainy days and Mondays all! Ways! Get!’ He stopped suddenly at the top of the stairs. ‘…me dowwwww…’ he took in a deep, shuddering breath. ‘…owwwwwn.’
‘Very nice,’ said Carolyn. ‘I’d ask if you do requests, but at the state of drunkenness you’ve currently reached, you probably would.’
‘Night, Skip,’ called Arthur from the foot of the stairs. ‘We can always play We Sing tomorrow. Or Mario Kart! Or Boggle! You don’t even need to plug the Wii in for that!’
‘Arthur,’ called down Carolyn, ‘you’d better get a pint glass of water for our sozzled guest. And a bucket. He’s not throwing up on my Laura Ashley carpet.’
‘Right you are, Mum!’ Arthur wandered off in the direction of the kitchen, all the while enthusing about how much fun this was going to be.
Carolyn directed Martin towards the guest bedroom. The drunk pilot took three steps into the room, then pitched forwards and collapsed, face first and sideways on on top of the bed.
Carolyn stood back, frowned, then decided that Martin should probably be relieved of his shoes if this was the way he was going to stay for the night.
‘What a mess,’ muttered Martin as she pulled his shoes off. ‘I’m sorry, Carolyn.’
‘Martin Crieff, you have many things in this world to apologise for, but what that woman did to you is not one of them. Hopefully you’ll see that in time, and things will start to get better. You know, with some proper advertising and a quick service for that van of yours, I bet you could afford to charge a decent amount. You’ll have enough for a deposit and rent in no time. You might even get a nicer place to live this time around. No more worrying about how she’ll react if you’re late or don’t phone in time. You’ll be able to go out and socialise whenever you like, see Big Mart… Other Martin. And I bet he knows lots of women he could introduce you to.’
‘Oh yes,’ slurred Martin. ‘I’m sure the girls will be beating down the door as soon as they hear I’m single again.’ He turned onto his back, with a groan. ‘Who’s going to want me? Juliet was right.’
‘Juliet said what she did because she was terrified of you leaving – rightfully so.’ Carolyn tugged at the quilt until it was covering Martin over. ‘There are plenty of girls out there – nice girls – who would appreciate you. You’ve got a lot to give. And I’m not just saying that because you’re drunk and won’t remember me doing so in the morning. Although, that is a contributing factor.’ She stepped back, towards the door. ‘Arthur will be up in a second with your water, all right?’
‘Mmf.’ Martin turned over again, burying his face in the pillow. ‘Thanks, Mum.’
Carolyn drew breath to give a cutting reply, but thought better of it, on this occasion.
‘Good night, Martin.’
She switched off the light.
THE END