70 Derry Lane, Dublin, 2014
‘That looked very cosy,’ Matt said when Stella walked in. His voice sounded playful. As if he hadn’t a care in the world.
‘It was Rea’s birthday. She invited me in for a drink. I thought, why not? I was on my own. It was fun. You’d like them.’ Stella was aware that she was babbling, so she made herself stop. Breathe, don’t panic, it’s okay.
He stood up and walked towards her and his eyes looked her up and down. His face still wore that crooked smile full of lies and contradictions. ‘So many changes. Oh don’t look so surprised Stella. I’ve been watching you. I know you rang the letting agent about our house in Rathmines.’
‘My house!’ Stella answered, unable to stop herself. She waited for the backlash from that statement, but he just smiled at her, as if amused by her words.
‘And this new look of yours. You look like a common tramp off the street.’
His words assaulted her. ‘Don’t talk like that to me, Matt.’
His reaction was almost comical. His shock was evident in every muscle in his face, which twitched in protest at her cheek. In daring to question him.
‘I’ll say anything I like to you. I am your husband.’
She lifted her chin and reminded herself that she deserved better. Rea’s bravery today, in facing some heartbreaking truths head on, was incredible. On top of finally acknowledging that her daughter was dead, saying those horrific words out loud, she walked outside. If she could make such a huge step, a leap of faith that her world was bigger than her house and mind, which had both imprisoned her, Stella could do the same. If he dared raise his hand to her, she would walk too.
‘And I am your wife. We chose our vows together, do you remember that?’
He nodded, but continued pacing around the room, his hands clenched in fists by his side, his face in a twisted grimace.
‘I take you to be my wife. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love and honour you all the days of my life.’ She spat the words at him and searched his face for traces of the man she thought he was when she had made those vows to him and he to her.
He was silent, watching her carefully.
‘There is no love nor honour in this marriage,’ Stella said. ‘And I’ve had enough.’
‘What are you saying, exactly?’ He moved closer, his fists clenched and now raised a little higher by his side.
‘I will not be your punching bag. If you hit me, I will call the Gardaí myself.’
‘Well, well, well. Look who got all brave.’
‘I’ve always been brave, but I’d just forgotten it,’ Stella replied, forcing herself to look him in the eye. Don’t back down, don’t allow him to dominate you.
He looked at her in silence for several minutes. What the hell was going through his mind, Stella thought. He paced the floor, then he stopped in front of her, still not saying a word. He lifted his fists up in front of his face and looked at them. Then slowly, he unfurled his hands and held his two palms up, as if in surrender.
‘You’re right. I’ve been a terrible husband. Work has just been so stressful and I’ve taken it out on you. No excuse. But I promise, that’s the end of it. You have my word.’
Every word a lie, Stella knew that. Did he think that she could forget all with just a few trite words? Maybe.
‘Can you ever forgive me?’ He raised his hand and let it hover beside her cheek, palm flat, for a second. Then he caressed her face with his fingertips and Stella shivered in response. His touch now made her body cringe in protest and she knew that she couldn’t wait any longer. Like Rea stepping into her garden, she needed to leave. She had allowed herself to get complacent over the past few weeks. Matt was busy at work, pretending to be repentant following the last beating. It was just so nice, getting to know Rea, Luca and Charlie. It was like being part of a family again.
‘You’ll have to introduce me to your new friends next door. You looked very chummy. Sharing drinks, hugging, kissing each other. What’s her name again?’
‘Rea. And her husband George and son Luca.’
How long had he been watching? The thought of him spying on her and her friends, silently judging her every move, made her shudder.
‘You could have joined us,’ she replied. ‘I’m going to make a cup of tea. Would you like one?’
‘Let me make you one,’ Matt said, smiling. ‘You go sit down, pick something for us to watch. Okay?’
‘Thank you,’ she replied. Two can play at this game. I’ll hide what I’m really planning and thinking. Tomorrow she would go and talk to Rea, she had things she needed to say, to share with her. Then she would leave.
There was enough money in the joint account that she could withdraw and live on for a few months, if she was careful. Then she’d let her solicitor sort out everything else. She’d find a job. Anything. And her aunt in France had said she could stay with her for as long as she needed. She could do this.
Tomorrow.
Stella felt excitement begin to bubble its way up through her. Within twenty-four hours she would be free.
She didn’t hear him coming up behind her until she felt the force of his fist to the side of her head. She staggered from the shock of the blow and it took a few seconds for the pain to register. She tried to get into a position to defend herself, but before she could, he punched her low in her stomach, making her double over, winded. Then he threw her against the wall, her face smashed in hard against the concrete. She felt her eye crunch and blood ran from her nose. Then he flipped her around, so that she was facing him.
‘How dare you lie to me. How dare you sneak around behind my back.’
And then he placed his hands around her throat and squeezed. She felt blood rush to her eyes and she fought to breathe as he squeezed the air from her body. She clawed, she kicked and she fought to stay alive until she had no more fight left and everything went black.