Written in the Scars (The Estate Series Book 4) (14 page)

BOOK: Written in the Scars (The Estate Series Book 4)
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She smiled before walking away. But then his hand grabbed her and she was in his arms again. And suddenly she was falling under his spell. The smell, the taste, the sex of him – everything was pulling her nearer. She didn’t want the moment to end. Every inch of her body was on fire, expecting more than he could give, wondering how it would feel to receive it all.

They broke free again, with difficulty. Embarrassed laughter followed.

‘Go,’ Owen said, and patted her bottom before pushing her away.

Donna almost floated back into the shop. She waved a hand in front of her face to try and cool her down. That man certainly knew how to stoke her fire. One minute he was wooing her with a picnic: the next he was treating her to a stolen moment of passion. She couldn’t wait to see him again.

She was wondering where they would go when she joined Sarah behind the counter.

‘It’s still hot out there, I see?’ asked Sarah.

‘Hmm?’

‘Your skin is flushed already. You need to put some lotion on if you sit outside for too long.’

Donna put a hand to her cheek and nodded. Let Sarah think it was the sun that had caused her skin to redden. She didn’t want to say anything about Owen. It was her special moment, and she didn’t want to spoil it by talking about it.

She felt she was on the cusp of possibilities, of hope, of love and laughter and shared dreams and future plans and wishes. And she didn’t want the feeling to disappear.

It was so exciting to have a little light in her life at last.

 

 

Chapter Eighteen

 

Josie had been surprised to get a call on her mobile from a tenant in Russell Place. Even though she still had a few weeks left at The Workshop until she returned to the estate full-time, she’d rung the individual and reassured the irate woman that she would investigate the matter further.

It was another complaint about Lewis Prophett. Lewis and his wife, Amy, had been tenants since they’d moved into one of the estate’s rented properties just after their son, Daniel, had been born. Despite her youth and the hardships of living alone with a baby when Lewis was overseas, Amy had been a model tenant. Josie heard lots of negative things about young mums with babies but Amy did everything right. The house was always tidy, the baby had been immaculate and Josie was pleased that she hadn’t gone the same way as some of the mums on the estate.

While Lewis had been in the army, there hadn’t been any complaints relating to the property. So it had concerned Josie when she’d started hearing about Lewis causing problems these past few months. It seemed that Amy didn’t know how to handle him and his moods. It appeared that no one did.

She knocked on the door. Amy Prophett opened it with a look of resignation, her shoulders drooping. She was a small woman in contrast to Lewis’s tall stature, and thin where Lewis was bulky. Her blonde hair was tied back revealing a clean, make-up free face. Her eyes didn’t smile, even though her lips did.

She let Josie into the property.

‘Who’s complained this time?’ Amy asked as Josie followed her through to the kitchen. ‘Honestly, I wish people would think before they ring you. I could tell you lots about the residents in this street, but I don’t. I keep myself to myself.’

‘Oh, take no notice of anyone who complains,’ said Josie. ‘I couldn’t give a tuppence unless there was a riot or he’d damaged our property. I just wanted to see if you’re okay. I know Lewis has been having trouble lately, but how are you?’

‘Me?’ Amy raised her eyebrows. ‘You’re the first person who’s asked that in a long time! Everyone always wants to know how Lewis is.’

‘I can imagine, but it must take its toll on you and Daniel?’

Josie saw Amy bristle at the mention of their son’s name.

‘We get by. Dan’s doing well now,’ Amy told her. ‘He’s picked up at school again.’

‘Not asking to join the army now?’

Amy shook her head. ‘I think he’s come to his senses after seeing what it’s done to his dad.’

‘Want to talk about it?’

Amy pointed to a chair and they both sat down at the table. ‘Lewis came over yesterday after he’d been to the job centre. He was distraught that he couldn’t find a job, felt like he was going to be on the scrapheap forever. I tried to tell him that he’d get fixed up soon, but he’s got it into his head that if he finds his feet again and starts to settle into a routine, he could come back here and we could start over.’

‘And that’s not an option anymore?’ Josie probed.

Amy shook her head. ‘Not unless he gets help. I can’t see what we had working again if he doesn’t. I know it would take us time to readjust after being apart for so long, but it isn’t just that. I could cope with us pussyfooting around each other if he hadn’t been so angry all the time. I only had to put a cup down in the wrong place and he’d start shouting at me.’

‘He took his frustration out on you?’

‘Yes, and it was hard to live with. I took it for a while but then, when it started to affect my sleep and I was constantly in a state of worry, especially when he began drinking heavily, it started to feel like a war zone right here in our home. It wasn’t good for Daniel to see either. I was worried about him, too.’

Josie could see guilt in Amy’s eyes as she glanced her way before continuing.

‘In the end, I used to sigh with relief when he left the house, but dread the sound of his key in the door when he came back. And Lewis kept telling Dan to be quiet. He’s just a boy – they make noise – but Lewis was always jumpy every time he heard a bang. Dan stopped bringing his friends around.’ Her smile was faint. ‘It had always been open house. I miss having lots of kids around here. Some have started to come again since Lewis left, but now they’re older, they want to be out, don’t they?’ 

Josie nodded. ’So when he came to visit?’

‘He wanted to prove to me that he’d changed, but because he couldn’t get a job, he kept saying he’d failed. He accused me of not understanding. I
don’t
understand him, if I’m honest. Trouble is, I don’t think I want to understand anymore. I don’t want my marriage to be over but I think I’d prefer to think that Lewis is still away in the army, rather than have the constant worry of what he will do next.’

‘He lost a support group when he left his fellow soldiers behind,’ said Josie.


I
should be his support group now.’ A lone tear fell down Amy’s face and she flicked it away quickly. ‘But he won’t talk to me. I don’t know what else to do.’

When Josie left the house, she walked down the path and put her face up to the warm rays of the sun.

She didn’t know what it was about him, but Lewis’s plight touched her heart. So many of her residents didn’t want to be helped, pushed her away, or called her a ‘jobs worth.’ So many more were just out for what they could get. Lewis was different. He was hurting.

But this was so far out of her jurisdiction that she felt out of her depth. She wished she could help him, but he needed to
want
that help. There seemed no point in barging in with her opinions and advice leaflets.

Perhaps she could do some more research on PTSD, try and get in touch with someone that Lewis could talk to.

 

Her shift over for the day, Donna went to see Sam at the hospital. He’d had his second operation that morning. Thankfully, the surgeon had managed to attach the severed tendon again so he wouldn’t lose his finger. They’d stitched it up as neatly as they could and now it would need lots of physio to get it working again.

It was only after leaving the hospital, as she rushed off to visit Mary, that she started to look forward to her evening. Tonight was finally going to be the night. Owen was picking her up at seven thirty and they were going out for a meal. The prospect of her evening had got her through the stresses of the day; every man and his dog had been moaning about the weather being too hot. They should try standing in a shop all day where the only air conditioning was the door being open, Donna thought to herself.

As she let herself into Mary’s flat, shouting out a greeting, a head popped around the kitchen door.

‘Oh, hi, Megan,’ she smiled as the young girl came out, carrying a beaker of juice for Mary.

‘Hi, Donna, how are things?’ Meg handed the drink to Mary, cupping her hands around the base of the beaker to attempt to get Mary to do the same.

‘Fine, thanks. You?’

‘Good, thanks. And Mary is doing well, aren’t you?’ Megan gave Mary’s arm a quick pat before standing up straight again.

Mary sucked away on the beaker, causing Donna to grin at the funny noises she made.

‘How’s Sam?’ Megan enquired.

‘As well as can be expected, thanks. He’s had another operation today, though. If all goes well from now, he’ll be able to come out after the weekend.’

‘That’s good.’

Donna detected a slight blush on Megan’s cheeks. She caught her eye and the young woman looked away as her skin reddened further. Donna couldn’t help but smile. It looked like Megan had a crush on Sam.

‘You should look in on him if you have time,’ she encouraged. ‘He’s spoken about you a lot this week.’

‘Oh, I— well, I’ll see if I have time after my shift.’ Megan looked at her watch. ‘Talking of which, I need to go. Bye, Mary, and see you tomorrow.’

Donna showed Megan out. At the door, she stopped her. ‘Thank you for looking after Mum so well,’ she said. ‘I know she’s in safe hands with you.’

Megan beamed. ‘I like her, she’s a lovely lady. And besides, I like to speak to people as equals. Mary might not remember me tomorrow, and she may not even like me tomorrow, but that shouldn’t affect the way I treat her. Manners and understanding cost nothing.’

Once Donna had closed the door, she went back into the living room with Megan’s words ringing in her ears. What an old head on young shoulders. She hoped that she did have a soft spot for Sam. He’d do well to find someone like her.

‘I don’t like her,’ said Mary suddenly.

‘But that’s Megan. Everyone loves Megan.’

‘Not me,’ said Mary. ‘She’s horrible, that Laura.’

Donna sighed. Laura Prophett was another of Mary’s carers. ‘That’s Megan, Mum, not Laura.’

Mary looked up with a smile. ‘Can we go home now? I wish I had my old bedroom, with the pink wallpaper and the cushions on the bed. Can you remember that cushion, Donna? You bought it for me. It said “World’s Best Mum’’ on it.’

Donna’s face lit up and her eyes brimmed with tears. For an instant, she had her mum back. She had remembered something about her past, instead of it being locked away forever.

‘I do, Mum,’ she replied, hastily wiping away the tears that had spilled. ‘I bought it for you for Mother’s Day when I was seventeen.’

‘I loved that room.’ Mary looked up at her with an expression of fear. ‘Please take me back. I don’t like it here.’

Donna squeezed Mary’s hand, wishing that she could make everything right for her mum again. No matter what she did, she couldn’t help feeling guilty. Mary was well looked after at Poplar court. Despite what Mary had said, Donna felt relieved to leave her, knowing that she would be safer there as she couldn’t do much harm to herself. If she brought her to live with her, Mary wouldn’t rest, and Donna would have to give up her job to look after her and then where would the money come from? No, she couldn’t do it.

‘I’ll take you back, one day, Mum,’ she fibbed.

It was the best she could offer. She thought about the accusations that Mary had made. She had seemed quite lucid at the time so maybe Donna shouldn’t dismiss it so easily, especially with that bruise on her arm.

But, for her own sanity, she had to, because it had come from her mum’s illness rather than fact.

 

 

Chapter Nineteen

 

‘See you tomorrow, Ramona,’ Keera shouted as she left the building after her shift had ended. It was her last one after working six in a row and she was looking forward to a night off the following evening. She’d arranged to meet some of the gang in The Butcher’s Arms. Even though Marley had said she might come down to stay with her for a couple of nights, she’d found some temporary work in Manchester so she couldn’t make it this time. Keera sighed, realising she’d have to make do with having a laugh with some of the others. She liked Regan, and Summer too, but they weren’t Marley.

Outside, it felt like a storm was approaching and she was glad of it. She couldn’t wait to get home for a shower. The air needed clearing; her skin still felt hot and sticky. When she’d come to work that afternoon, it had been nearing eighty degrees and the air felt tropical. Even now the temperature didn’t seem to have dropped a lot, although it was nearing midnight.

Keera crossed the street and walked down the road towards the bus stop. A wave of guilt rushed over her as she realised she hadn’t done anything to help out again. She’d told Mum she would call in to see Nan and then hadn’t made the time. Still, Mum always made it clear that she was coping okay on her own whenever she tried to talk to her.

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