Never Ever Leave Me (3 page)

“That’s settled then,” Patrick replied.  “I’ll call you at home later and we can make our arrangements.  I’m looking forward to working with you, mate.”

After he came off the phone John punched the air with delight, “Yes,” he said triumphantly.
  The sole purpose for his recent trip south was to answer some final questions regarding funding and now it had been approved.  He was excited.  This would allow him to complete his research.  It was the break he needed to help him move on with his life.  He felt a bit sorry that he wouldn’t be around to help Katy because he liked the girl, in a strange way her fragility made him feel strong.  But with a bit of luck Peter would soon have a new tenant and she’d get a quality roof over her head and a caring landlord.  Besides, he could keep in touch by phone if he chose.

John
dialled his brother-in-law’s number and the call was answered on the third ring.  After some brief banter he wrote down the information about the flat and told him of his impending trip.

“It’ll do you good to get a break,” Peter said.  “We all know how hard it’s been for you since Carol died. 
We all miss her terribly.  Don’t worry about your house I’ll look after things for you.  I’ll even cut the grass.”

“Thanks, Peter I’ll call you later with the details of the prospective tenant if she gets in touch
.”

They talk
ed for a few minutes more before John ended the call to prepare for his lecture.  All through the day he felt a buzz of excitement every time he thought about his research grant.  In another couple of days his work here would stop for the summer and he’d be free to go.  When the word went round, his colleagues came to congratulate him and to wish him well.  Then, apart from one repeat lecture he was giving due to public demand, his day was his own.

With all the comings and goings John didn’t notice that the day was almost over until he saw the cleaners in the hallway.  When he glanced at his phone, which was still switched to silent for his lecture, he realised it was after five and Katy hadn’t called.  He checked his messages, but she definitely hadn’t been in touch. 
He was disappointed.  Stupidly disappointed, after all, she was a complete stranger to him.  He knew nothing about her apart from what she’d told him and that might be a load of bollocks.  He felt like an idiot now for calling Peter about the apartment.  But, he reasoned, life was never as simple as it seemed.  At least he now had plans for the summer and, with any luck, by the autumn he and Patrick would have a paper ready with some cutting edge theories to report.

…

Katy lay in her hospital bed and contemplated her loss.  She felt very depressed.  The next day a hospital social worker paid her a visit and Katy poured her heart out to her.

“Oh dear, what an awful time you’ve had,” the woman said sympathetically.  “I can help you with the practical things, but I’ll arrange a counsellor if you’d like to talk about the way you feel.  Don’t worry the system is
in place to help people in your situation.  You won’t have to cope on your own.”

Although the social worker was very kind and said all the right things,
she had never felt so alone.  She wished she still had John’s card.  The kind stranger was strong and for a short while he’d taken care of her.  She felt vulnerable and weak and, more than anything, she yearned for him to be beside her now.

CHAPTER 4

Eventually, after three days, Katy’s blood pressure returned to normal and she was discharged from the hospital.  She was met in a taxi by Tricia, her allocated social worker, who took her to a women’s refuge on the south side of the city.  It was far from ideal, very basic accommodation with shared facilities, but beggars can’t be choosers.  She qualified for a place because she was fleeing from domestic violence.  The real downside to her situation was that all the other women who resided there were accompanied by children.  It made her all the more bereft for no longer being pregnant.

The next few days passed in
a blur as she visited the job centre, housing benefit office and social work department.  She also registered with a doctor for her on-going care.  Her endeavours left her completely exhausted so it was no surprise when she developed a virus and was forced to spend a couple of days in bed.

“I’ve brought you some chicken soup, Hen,” Marie, one of her fellow guests said as she opened the door and looked in.  “It’s just out of a packet, ‘Knorr’, I think.  I canny cook myself, but it’ll warm you through and make you feel better.  My maw used to swear by it.”

Katy pushed herself into a sitting position and gratefully took the soup mug from Marie, “Thank you, you’re very kind,” she replied and suddenly found herself blubbering.

“Dinnae worry about greetin’ Hen.  It’s just your hormones
‘cause you lost your bairn.  We’ve all suffered loss in this place and we all feel for you.  When you’re up to it, come and join us in the lounge and I’ll introduce you to some of the other girls.  We’re a mixed bunch so dinnae worry about being English.  We’ll forgive you,” she added laughing.

Katy thanked Marie and sipped the hot soup.  It was probably more psychological than medicinal, but soon she felt better and climbed out of bed. 
Quickly she dressed, pulled a comb through her hair and washed her face.  Then she rooted around in her belongings until she found the packet of biscuits she’d bought in case she wanted a sweet snack and, with it clutched in her hand, made her way to the lounge.

The room was large and sparsely furnished with mismatched chairs.  There was an acrid, singed smell
coming from the electric bar heaters the women were huddled around.  The air smelled fuggy and the room felt cold and rather damp despite the sun shining through the windows.  Marie stood when she saw Katy.

“In you come, Hen.  Have this seat beside Kelly and I’ll make us some tea.  It’ll have to be black because the milk’s finished.  Do you take sugar?”

Katy handed over the biscuits she’d brought. “One spoon, please,” she answered and she took the seat she’d been offered.

Before going off to the kitchen to put the kettle on, Marie quickly introduced the other two girls who were sitting in the room.

“She’s called Nadia,” Marie said nodding towards an Asian girl wearing a green sari.  “And this is Kelly,” she said placing her hand on the shoulder of a heavily pregnant girl.

Kelly was very skinny apart from her enormous bump
.  She looked about twelve.  She was dressed in a short shift and had bare legs.  Her hair was thin and limp, her skin pasty and pockmarked.

“This is my third and it’s a boy this time,” Kelly said patting her bump.  “It makes no difference
though my man still doesn’t want it.  My two girls are with my mum,” she explained.

“And will you stay with your mum after the baby’s born?” Katy asked.

“Not a chance.  We can’t stand each other.  I suppose I’ll give her the baby then I’ll go back to my man.  He’s only violent when I’m pregnant because he doesn’t want kids.  It’s always been my fault ‘cause if we’ve had a drink I sometimes forget to take the pill.  I’m having my tubes tied after this one so everything will be okay and it won’t happen again.  I asked them to do it the last time after I had my Chelsea, but they said I was too young.”

“You look very young now,” Katy said unable to stop herself.

“I’m not young,” Kelly replied laughing.  “I’m nearly nineteen.  I was fifteen when I had my first.”

Katy looked down trying not to show the shock she felt.  At that moment Marie came back in with the teas.

“Pull that table over Nadia,” she said gesticulating to the girl.  “Nadia’s here because her husband’s family think she’s hurt their honour.  Her daughter is in school round the corner, but her boys are with their dad in Dundee.  She’s left her man because he battered her and nearly killed her.  Her own family won’t take her back.  They’d rather see the lassie dead than leave her man.  It’s no use trying to talk to her.  She’s nearly deaf from the battering and she disnae speak much English.   She’s from India or Pakistan, one of thay foreign places, if you want to talk to her you’ll have to use your hands to explain.”

“Just like her husband did,” Kelly said wryly.
  “I know you lost your baby and I’m sorry if my pregnancy is in your face,” she said turning to Katy.  “If you want to talk about it that’s fine, if not, that’s fine too.”

“There’s not much to tell,” Katy began.  “I got pregnant.  My husband lost his job.  He spent all his
time in the pub and a few days ago he got angry and hit me so I ran away.”

“Did he punch your belly?” Kelly asked.  “Is that why you lost the baby?”

“No, nothing like that, he just slapped my face and gave me a black eye.”

Kelly stared at her incredulously.  “And you left him because of one slap.  It might have been a one-off.  I’ve been in the hospital twice.  My man
’s broken my jaw, my wrist, some ribs and once he dislocated my shoulder.”

“And you keep going back for more,” Marie said.  “Katy here’s got the right idea.  Get out before it gets worse.  I met a girl called
Jessie once and she kept going back even after her man had been in the jail.  She’s dead now and her man’s battering some other poor cow.”

Katy
drank her tea, it tasted stewed.  Then she suggested they all go out for a walk to get some air.

“We dinnae go out
and walk about unless we absolutely have to,” Marie explained.  “We don’t want to risk being seen or someone might tell our men where we are.  It’s all right for you because your man lives in England.  He won’t think to look for you here.”

“Not for a while anyway,” Kelly added.

“Aye, not for a while,” Marie agreed, “But they find you eventually if they want to.”

At that moment Tricia popped her head round the door.

“I’ve got some papers for you to sign,” she said to Katy who immediately stood up, said goodbye to the girls and, grateful for the social worker’s interruption, quickly exited the room.

When they were seated in her room Katy said, “I have to get out of this place.  I’m grateful for the roof over my head
, but I hate it here.  What are my options?”

Tricia explained that within a few weeks the council would offer her some kind of accommodation, but it would probably not be in an area she
’d like.

“Your neighbours might be junkies or alcoholics.  You’re almost at the bottom of the pile for a flat because you’re young
, single and without kids.  You’re only here because you’ve miscarried and are fleeing from violence. There is the private sector if you can put together a deposit, but many landlords won’t take people on benefits so the most important thing is to find a job.  Do you think it’s worth contacting your previous employer to explain why you left?  Do you think they might give you a reference?”

“It’s possible,” Katy replied.  “At the very least they deserve an apology.  I worked for them for three years.  I’ll try calling and
I’ll see if I can speak to Mr. Reynolds.  He was my manager.  I’ll let you know how I get on.”

Katy and Tricia chatted some more then they left the building together.  Katy wanted to look round the city centre to properly get her bearings.  Tricia said she was calling for a taxi and offered to drop
her in town on the way to her next call.  It was clear from their conversation both women felt, that with a bit of effort, Katy could improve her position.

CHAPTER 5

When Tricia’s taxi dropped Katy off outside the St. Enoch shopping centre, in the heart of the city, the first thing she did was locate a mobile phone shop and buy a pay-as-you-go phone.  She paid for twenty pounds worth of calls to be added then asked the young man who served her for directions to the nearest employment agency.  After consulting his computer he wrote down the addresses of three establishments.  All were close to the shop and just a couple of minutes walk from each other.

I’ve got to be positive and start as I mean to go on,
she thought.  Surely with her qualifications and experience someone would want to employ her, especially if she telephoned Mr. Reynolds and he was prepared to give her a reference.  One thing she knew for sure was that she couldn’t stay in the refuge.  Although the other women were kind, she had nothing in common with any of them and whilst it was clean, warm and safe, she was used to better, much better.

The first two agencies Katy called on had her complete application forms and said they’d be in touch if something turned up.  She felt her spirits sink as the realisation of her position became clear.  All her experience was with
large insurance companies and many of these companies were laying people off rather than hiring.  It was with a heavy heart that she entered the third agency.  Once again she filled out the registration form.  This time, however, she was surprised to be invited into an interview room instead of being politely shown to the door.  Soon she was pouring her heart out to a kind young man with an easy smile and startling blue eyes.

“
I like your honesty,” the agent, whose name was Gregor, said.  “Do you think your previous employer will give you a reference? The job I have in mind isn’t the same calibre as you’re used to, but you could do the work with your eyes closed.  It’s in a small brokerage on the south side of town.  They need someone familiar with the products they handle and who can start within two weeks.”