Watched: When Road Rage Follows You Home (24 page)

Leah shuffled along the giant fridge, picking up a few items, checking the labels and dropping them in a basket. Esther continued to move backwards slowly, peering around corners and doing her best to stay out of sight from the other woman, doing an entire lap of the store in the process. It was only when she found herself back at the fridge that Esther realised she was still clutching the bottle of milk. She continued holding it, ducking behind another shelf as Leah returned to the back of the store having apparently forgotten something.

When Leah eventually turned and strode towards the front of the store, Esther grabbed the closest loaf of bread and crept towards the tills. There was an area close to confectionary where it was possible to peer through the hanging bags of sweets and see everything ahead but remain hidden.

Esther checked behind but the area was thankfully clear: a grown woman hiding behind bags of sweets was patently ridiculous but this was what she had been reduced to.

When Leah eventually got to the front, she paid with some sort of loyalty card before arguing with the young cashier that he’d overcharged her and then berating his manager for hiring somebody so ‘useless’. She then asked the woman behind her in the line what she was looking at before storming out.

At least it wasn’t just Esther she was aggressive to.

With the coast clear, Esther raced around to the far side of the store and joined the back of the queue. She paid in cash and then hurried onto the street.

The day suddenly felt stifling, rather than the pleasant warmth of earlier. The scuffed white paving slabs reflected the bright sunshine, leaving Esther squinting and disorientated. If Leah was out and about, then Esther thought she’d be better off working her way back through the alleys as opposed to being on the main road.

Still trying to get her bearings, Esther crossed the road, heading towards the clump of bushes and greenery beyond. There were two cut-throughs opposite the shop but she couldn’t remember which one she’d come through. As she reached the other side, Esther clipped her foot on the kerb and struggled to regain her balance, almost dropping the carrier bag of groceries. When she glanced up, it felt as if the bushes were rushing towards her. She tried to blink it away but then the sky was falling too, like a giant blue box enfolding her. Esther squeezed her eyes closed, using the thickness of the bush to hold her up. Every time this happened, she flashed back to being in the car in the leisure centre car park when it felt as if the roof was closing in on her. She’d never been claustrophobic in the past, let alone felt that other one – the fear of being outdoors. What was that called? Esther knew the word, trying to make the letters form on the back of her eyelids as a way of focusing on something that wasn’t the sensation of being crushed.

Agoraphobia, that was it. She wasn’t scared of being outside, she just had moments like this.

Esther could feel the leaves between her fingers. They were small, waxy and prickly. She concentrated on the texture of them before finally opening her eyes and breathing out deeply.

The sky was back where it should be, the glare from the paving slabs had returned to being bright, rather than overwhelming and everything was in focus. She could even remember the route home, unsure how she’d forgotten it in the first place.

Esther spun around the hedge, starting to walk along the narrow path. She’d only taken two steps when her body was wrenched violently to the side, sending her crumbling to the floor knees-first. There was grass underneath but it was short and wiry, the harsh, dry soil cutting into Esther’s skin. As she tried to push herself back to her feet, there was suddenly a weight across the midriff, knees digging into an area around her elbows, pinning her to the ground. Esther stared up into the blue of the sky, a dark silhouette blocking the sun.

Leah arched her neck back, balling saliva in the back of her throat with an exaggerated sucking noise, before lunging forward and spitting in Esther’s face. Esther gasped in shock as the thick liquid oozed across her eyelid, dribbling into her eye. Instinctively, she tried to wipe it away but her arms were still pinned under Leah’s unexpected strength. Esther tried to kick her legs to free herself but couldn’t shift her weight.

A low taunting cackle slipped from Leah’s lips, quickly joined by a hissed threat ‘What did I tell you about being near my man?’

Esther was trying not to blink but Leah’s spit was itching its way around her eyelashes. When her eyelids did flicker involuntarily closed and open again, it made things worse, leaving a thin film across her vision. The thought of someone else’s spittle being there was worse than it actually being on her. She was trying not to panic at how disgusting it was.

‘I wasn’t.’

‘You think I didn’t see you in the pub the other night, eyeing him up.’

‘We were there first!’

CRACK!

It took Esther a few seconds to realise she’d been slapped across the face. The sound came before the sting but when she tried to open her mouth, her jaw clicked painfully.

‘Don’t you back-talk me, you bitch.’

Esther tried to thrash her arms and legs to escape but Leah had her balance weighted so perfectly that she barely moved.

‘Please let me go.’

Leah laughed again, mocking Esther’s voice and repeating the sentence back.

‘What do you want from me?’ Esther asked.

CRACK!

The second slap was harder than the first, rocking the back of Esther’s head into the solid ground. For a few moments, she felt woozy, dark spots blocking out Leah’s shape. It might have even been a clenched fist. Esther had never been punched in the face before and it’s not as if she’d seen the blow coming.

‘I want you to go back to that home of yours, lock the doors and never come out by yourself again. If I see you outside without that kiddie-fiddling weirdo husband of yours, I’m going to assume it’s because you’re trying it on with my man. Do you understand me?’

‘Yes.’

‘Now repeat after me – “my husband fiddles with kids”.’

‘He doesn’t.’

Another gloopy blob of spit landed just underneath Esther’s nose. When she breathed in, she could feel it tickling her skin as the globule started to dribble repulsively across her top lip onto her teeth.

‘Say it.’

‘He’s a good man.’

‘
Say it
.’

The spit drooled across Esther’s teeth, landing on her tongue and making her gag. Her eye was still glued shut by the first assault. The humiliation hurt so much worse than the physical blows.

‘My husband fiddles with kids.’

‘Louder.’

‘My husband fiddles with kids!’

Finally, Leah pressed backwards, removing the pressure from Esther’s top half and releasing her arms. Esther scooped her fingers into her eye and mouth, trying to wipe the insults away.

Leah’s shape began to walk away, a dark terrifying shadow against the brightness of the day. Her final send-off was as clear as it could be. ‘Don’t let me ever see you outside again.’

TWENTY-NINE: CHARLIE

Alan Byers had been true to his word of spending the day with Charlie at the hotel but they both knew it was a going-through-the-motions exercise. Charlie’s relationship with his staff had been irreparably damaged – they either thought he was a paedophile, or felt sorry for what had happened to him. Either way, it was all but impossible to manage people in such circumstances. You wanted people to work hard and do well, to have pride in themselves or their workplace, not because they thought you might slit your wrists if things became too much.

Then there was the issue that no-one, not even Olivia, could seemingly look him in the eye. Alan said he’d spend the rest of the week working alongside Charlie but this was going to be something incredibly hard, if not impossible, to recover from – and that was assuming the flyers never found their way into the hands of a guest.

Once a paedo, always a paedo – even if you never were one in the first place.

As if his day at work hadn’t been bad enough, Charlie knew there was something wrong the moment he got home.

Again.

It was warm but he shivered anyway, feeling watched. He stopped to listen but the only break in the silence was the sound of some kids playing outside. He crept into the kitchen, expecting the worst: draining board clear, crumbs around the toaster, fridge humming to itself, sunlight creeping through the half-closed blinds.

Everything was as it had been that morning.

The living room was the same – no-one there, nothing out of place.

‘Esther?’

No answer.

Charlie tiptoed up the stairs, as if his very presence was disturbing whatever was going on.

‘Esther?’

The landing at the top was doused in the amplified balminess of the sun pouring through the large window at the top. Charlie patted their bedroom door until it opened a crack, revealing darkness within. He edged inside, squinting into the dimness. The curtains were closed, the only light coming from the now open door.

Charlie perched on the edge of the bed, fumbling for the shape of his wife, who was entwined in the covers. ‘Esther?’

She didn’t move, so he crossed to the window and flung the curtains aside, bathing the room in the bright white of the summer evening. Esther was curled under the bedclothes, knees to her chest, head flopped to the side, half off the pillow. Her eyelids didn’t even flicker but Charlie froze, his heart squeezed by an invisible fist.

Next to her on the bed was a white plastic tub lying on its side, the lid upside-down next to it. Charlie grabbed it, tipping it upside down and feeling panic bubbling as nothing came out. The label read sleeping pills, saying that users should only take one at a time. It had the word ‘prescription’ printed underneath it, so he had no idea where she’d got it from.

There was a scarlet mark across Esther’s left cheek that hadn’t been there that morning and the hint of a darkening around her eye socket. Charlie ran his hand delicately along the other side of her face, whispering her name, gripping her hand with the other.

‘Come on, Esther, sweetie. Wake up for me.’

He leaned in, his heart lurching as he saw the gentle rise and fall of her chest that he’d missed in his initial moment of anxiety.

‘Wake up, Esther, hon, come on.’

As Charlie brushed her forehead, his wife started to stir, eyelids fluttering with a low moan gurgling from her mouth. In a flash, she was awake and reeling away from him, sitting bolt upright.

‘Hey – it’s me, it’s Charlie. You’re at home in bed.’

Esther’s wild eyes darted from side to side, short panting breaths making her gasp. ‘What time is it?’

Charlie turned to the clock behind them. ‘About quarter-to-seven. I was running late, then a road was closed.’

Her pupils were tiny, zipping across the whites of her eyes like a monochrome game of pong. Her hand was gripping his so tightly that the nails were digging into his skin.

‘Where did you get the pills from?’ he asked.

Esther seemed confused until Charlie held up the empty tub. She croaked an awkward reply. ‘My doctor gave them to me years ago.’

‘How many did you take?’

‘I don’t know. Two? Two and a half? I can’t remember how many were left.’

‘Why were you sleeping in the afternoon?’

Esther pulled her hand away, kicking her legs under the covers and catching him on the thigh. ‘Stop asking questions!’

Charlie turned and hurled the tub into the wall, suddenly angry. ‘I thought you’d overdosed! The least you can do is tell me what you were up to.’

Esther stared at him for a few seconds before turning away. ‘Leah attacked me.’

Charlie coughed in disbelief at first. By the time he’d heard the full details, he was shaking with rage. The assault had happened behind a hedge, out of sight of the main road and any possible witnesses. The left side of Esther’s face was still warm to touch and would surely bruise. Charlie wondered if there might be DNA evidence but he was only mentioning things he’d seen on television and Esther shook her head anyway. He felt it himself: they’d both lost the faith they had in the police to do anything and reporting something without evidence would only give Dougie and Leah more ammunition to come after them.

He wrapped an arm around her, wriggling himself under the bedcovers fully clothed so that he was on her right-hand side, where her face wasn’t sore.

‘We can’t stay here,’ Esther whispered.

‘We can’t afford to leave.’

‘We’ll go back to my parents’ – anything.’

‘If we do that, they win.’

‘They’ve already won. Everyone out there thinks you’re a paedophile, plus everywhere I go, Dougie or Leah are waiting. We can’t even go out for a meal together without them being there. Next door’s kids have been told not to talk to us – how are we supposed to live with that?’

Charlie didn’t reply, holding her tightly. Within a few moments, Esther was asleep again, her shallow breath tickling the crease where Charlie’s shoulder met his neck. He closed his eyes, holding his wife and listening to her breathe.

Was she right? They’d barely been in the house for two weeks, yet his job was almost untenable and all of the neighbours hated them. How could one couple wreak so much havoc on other people’s lives in such a short period of time? And for no reason.

The next time Charlie opened his eyes, over three hours had passed, yet neither he nor Esther had moved. The final vestiges of daylight were disappearing, basking the room in a greyish, dark haze.

Charlie lay, listening to Esther breathe before making his decision. Slowly, he eased his arm out from underneath her, gently resting her head on the pillow and pecking her lightly at the top of her nose. Despite the sleeping tablets, dim light and red mark across her cheek, she was still stunning. Not just the woman he’d married, or the girl he’d tried to chat up in the student pub all those years ago: she was so much better because she’d grown into a strong person in her own right, not defined by her looks or the people she hung around with. To see her reduced to forcing herself to sleep in the afternoon was heartbreaking. They were both changing for the worse.