Instead, she fought down the nausea that was swirling in her stomach and tried to stop the tremors that were coursing through her. When they reached the living room, Sandra sat on the sofa and lit a cigarette, while Alice quickly glanced around the room. Nothing had changed. Same couch and armchairs. Same battered old tiny dining table, with two rickety seats. Discoloured and broken kitchen units that she was fairly sure had been fitted when the house was built in the sixties. This wasn’t a life for anyone, let alone someone Alice knew had a good job and her own flat only six months ago. Let alone someone whose face looked like it had met something hard and fast coming the other way.
‘May we sit?’ she asked Sandra, even though absolutely no part of her wanted to touch the sofa or the burst armchair that had once been Larry’s mum’s pride and joy, but that was now so old and dirty it belonged in a skip.
‘Please yourself,’ Sandra retorted, still going with indifference and disdain. To some extent, Alice recognised all of those things. Three decades ago, in the early days with Larry, she’d shrugged off anyone who criticised him, and had been single-minded in her defence of him. When the emotional abuse and the cruelty began, she was so embarrassed and scared that she shut down anyone who tried to get close to her or to question what was going on. Larry had never laid a finger on her, but she had absolutely no doubt that he was capable of this.
‘Sandra, can I ask you again what happened to your face? Did Larry do this to you?’
Sandra took a puff of her cigarette and at first Alice thought she was going to ignore the question, but instead she challenged her with, ‘Why? Did he do this to you too?’
Alice ran that back.‘Do this to you too?’She’d confirmed it. And Alice heard a slight waver in her voice, as if the bravado was slipping. Alice chose to brush over the question, because she didn’t want to make Sandra feel any worse. Instead, she tried to forge some kind of connection.
‘Sandra, I know this is none of my business, and I’m the last person you would want to talk to…’ Actually, Alice wasn’t sure that was true. There might be a tiny part of Sandra, the scared, vulnerable part that was undoubtedly there, who would want to speak to someone who’d been in the same position. Someone who’d escaped.
All those months ago, when Larry was in the ICU, and Alice was in the hospital family room, ostensibly there out of concern for her husband, but actually hiding from the world while praying that his injuries would kill him, a nurse called Bernadette had popped by on the pretext of checking on her. In the course of their conversation, Bernadette had shared how she’d left her husband, a prominent heart surgeon, after three decades of emotional abuse. Bernadette hadn’t pried. She hadn’t asked questions. She’d later told Alice that she just recognised the signs and wanted to support her, to give her hope. Alice had been volunteering at Bernadette’s weekly support group for abuse survivors since she’d founded it shortly after that. Now was her chance to help someone who was still in that situation.
She carried on with the point she’d been putting to Sandra. ‘…But if Larry did this, you need to leave him. You can’t stay with someone who hurts you.’
‘Didn’t you stay for, what, not much short of thirty years?’ Sandra shot back.
Alice nodded. ‘I did. And there were lots of reasons for that. Fear, mostly. And threats that I was too scared to call Larry’s bluff on. But every single day of my life now, I wish I’d left sooner.’
Throughout this whole exchange, she appreciated that Zac stayed silent, and figured he probably knew that his voice wouldn’t help in this situation. This was woman to woman. Survivor to someone who hadn’t yet found the strength or the opportunity or the resources to leave. The last thing that they needed was for Sandra to feel backed into a corner and go further on the defensive.
It seemed Sandra was already there. ‘And if I left, where would I go? He’s gone through all of my savings. My landlord found an excuse to kick me out because my boyfriend was in prison, and I was constantly being doorstepped by journalists who wanted the inside scoop on the story of why you left and he was with me. And I lost my job, because the taxi company needed to cut ties with both Larry and me to wash the stink of Larry’s accident off their company.’
The “accident”. Not exactly an accurate description of the day Larry had got high on booze and drugs then smashed his taxi into the central reservation of the motorway with Sophie in the back seat. Sandra would have no way of knowing that had been one of the contributing factors in propelling Alice here tonight. When they’d hit that pothole earlier, all she could think about was how Sophie must have been terrified that day, yet she’d survived. It had given Alice the little bit of extra courage she’d needed to walk up that path to Larry’s front door.
Sandra was still raging on. ‘And all my friends and family have ditched me, either because they don’t approve, or becausethey think Larry is scum, or because he’s tried to borrow money from them. I have no one left. Nowhere to go. Nothing.’
Alice felt a crack run right through her heart. That was exactly how she’d felt for far too long in her life.
Zac sensed this was the time to step in. ‘Sandra, I know we’ve never met, but I’m a family lawyer, and I deal with situations like this. You can come with us right now, and he never needs to know we were here. I’ll find you a refuge where you’ll be safe, and I’ll do everything I can to get you back on your feet. I know it’s a long shot to ask you to trust me, but I promise I’ll help.’
The fracture in Alice’s heart just got wider, but this time it was because she was so proud that Morag had raised such a decent man.
‘Listen to him, Sandra, please. We have a car outside, and I have other friends that will help too. Women who’ve been through this. My friend, Bernadette, runs a support group and she has resources…’
‘No.’ Sandra’s objection was clear and final. ‘I’m going to get myself out of this. I’ve got a job interview this week and I’m going to get it. Then me and Larry will be fine because things will be good again. I don’t need anyone sticking their nose in and?—’
There was a shout from outside, and Alice recognised it immediately. Larry. No doubt yelling at the teenagers who always congregated in the alley at the side of the house. It was a nightly ritual, yet they returned time and time again to taunt the old bastard.
Damn it. If they had more time with Sandra, maybe they could persuade her… But even as she had that thought, she knew it probably wasn’t true. Sandra needed to make the decision on her own terms and when she was ready.
Her gaze darted to the notepad that she’d pinned to the kitchen wall when they’d first moved in here, and the pen that still dangled on a string from it. She jumped up, grabbed a sheet,and jotted down her mobile number, then shoved it in Sandra’s hand.
‘This is my number. Please, please, just say the word, and my friends and I will arrange somewhere safe for you to be. I promise. Don’t stay here, Sandra. Your life is worth so much more than him.’
They all heard the front door opening, and Alice saw Sandra slip the note into her dressing gown pocket. Alice wasn’t sure if she’d ever call, but it was a start.
She’d just sat back down in her seat, when the door opened. Every cell in her body recoiled. Her stomach clenched. Her throat became so tight she could barely breathe. Larry McLenn. And as his gaze fell on her, that familiar sneer curled his top lip.
‘Well, well, well… What the fuck are you doing here?’
26
ZAC
Zac had never hit anyone in his life. Never had a violent urge. Never thought that physical force was the answer to anything. Yet right now, he had an almost explosive desire to pummel this man’s face until there was nothing left of that sick, twisted snarl.
