At some point I fell asleep on the sofa. I know I did because when I open my eyes Cal has already gone to work. I wonder what he thought when he saw me out here. Why didn’t he wake me up? In one way I’m glad he didn’t, but part of me is terrified about what that means. Am I going to pay for sleeping out here when he gets back?
I close my eyes, trying to will away the images that flood my mind. The same question gnaws at my brain as the one I asked when he first locked me in that cage.
Why?
Why would he do this? He says his spiel about marriage and how wives and husbands are supposed to be, but surely he can’t think I love him. Surely he can’t believe in this lie he’s built up. Marriage is supposed to be when two people meet, fall in love and decide to spend the rest of their lives together. They. Collectively. Together. It’s not supposed to be one person deciding and the other being forced to go along with it and hurt and tortured into submission.
The answer, of course, is plain as day. He wanted someone to control. He wanted me cut off from my life, from the world, hidden away in this isolated cabin in the middle of nowhere, so that I was totally reliant upon him. If I had chosen to marry him there was always the chance I could change my mind. This way, I have no choice.
He’s coming home. That’s his truck’s engine outside, in the distance. My heart thuds. On autopilot I jump to my feet and rush to the sink, where I start to busy myself with doing the washing up. Not that there’s much to wash up. I haven’t eaten or drunk anything, am too racked with guilt, so it’s just his coffee mug and breakfast plate. I scrub them anyway as I watch the truck approach the cabin. My eyes flick over to the kitchen knives next to the sink and my fingers twitch. I could attack him as he comes through the door. Grab the keys from his bloodied body and jump into the truck, hurtle down the dirt path and find civilisation, someone to help me.
Cal gets out of the truck and I return my focus to the plate I’m cleaning. It’s not worth it. I tried that once before and it ended up so, so much worse.
‘You’re up, I see.’ His voice cuts through me as he comes in the front door.
‘Sorry I wasn’t awake to make you breakfast. You’re home early though. In time for lunch.’
‘Aye, only the one garden today. Work’s drying up.’
I swallow. That means he’s going to be home more often. He takes his boots off and starts hanging up his jacket as I finish off the plate. I wish there was more to do to keep my hands busy.
‘How come you slept out here then?’
I bite my lip. There’s an uncontrollable urge working its way through me to scream at him, pummel him with my fists, but it would be stupid. Who knows what he’d do to me. I need to stick to my plan. Until then, I need to act like nothing has changed.
‘I couldn’t sleep. I was tossing and turning and didn’t want to wake you so thought it would be better to sleep on the sofa.’
I turn away from him, hoping that he can’t see my ears reddening from the lie, and dry my hands with the cloth. His footsteps close in behind me on the floorboards. I can sense him right behind me, hovering. My grip tightens on the towel.
‘Somethin’ keeping you awake?’
Hands touch my shoulders and it takes everything in me not to flinch. He turns me to face him, gently but forcefully. I force a smile onto my face.
‘Just the baby. You know how I worry.’
He watches me for a moment as if trying to decide if I’m telling the truth or not. His eyes, eyes that I found so sexy and alluring that night we met in the pub, burn into me like acid.
‘Mmm,’ he grunts, finally releasing me from his stare as he turns to his armchair. ‘I told you, you shouldnae be worried. Lack of sleep is going to do far worse to you and little’un than anything else.’
‘Did you manage to get a doctor’s appointment yet?’
He slumps into the chair and rests his ankles on the footstool. ‘There is no appointment. I spoke to a lad in town, local doctor. He reckons baby’s absolutely fine. Nothing to worry about.’
I swallow again and take a deep breath. Mustn’t lose my composure. ‘How could he possibly know that without examining me?’
‘How am I s’posed to know? Doctors, they’re smart laddies, ain’t they?’
‘But you …’ I pause, realising how high my voice is. Clearing my throat, I concentrate on keeping it steady and calm. ‘You said you’d get him to come here.’
‘I said I’d consider it.’ There’s a tone in his voice that I recognise, one of finality. It tells me that this conversation is done, that he’s had the last say and that I better not push it. My eyes prick with tears but I force them back. Just in time, too, because he leans his head back and looks over at me.
‘He also said it’s fine to have sex while you’re pregnant.’
My throat constricts. Before I can even begin to attempt to get any words out he stretches his arms above his head, then pulls himself to his feet.
‘I’m going to go freshen up. Got a couple of deer to sort for this week’s dinner and then we’ll spend some proper husband and wife time together, aye?’ He moves to me and slides his hands around my hips. ‘I’ve missed you.’
It’s all I can do to force a smile onto my lips. He kisses them, and I just know he can tell I’m not kissing him back properly, but my brain just won’t let me do it. A small shudder works its way up my spine as I watch him disappear into the bathroom to clean himself up before heading to the barn. That godforsaken barn.
I wonder if that’s what he used to do. Get home from work, take a few minutes to collect himself, stretch, wash his face, then head down to my prison to give me food and drink and ask me who I am. Just a normal day like any other.
A realisation occurs to me with a jolt. He’s going to the barn. I still have the key. If he goes to open the lock and realises it’s gone he’s going to know I’ve been in there. I whip around and search frantically around the room. Where did I put it? When I got back from the barn I was in such a mess. Panic ripping through me, I attempt to retrace my footsteps, acutely aware that he’s left the bathroom door open. I can see the edge of his shoulder from here. All it would take is for him to poke his head out and he’d see me searching.
Think. Think, Mary. Think.
No. Not Mary. That’s not my name.
I shake my head, forcing the thought from my mind. Now is not the time.
Think. I came in and collapsed onto the sofa and fell asleep. Trembling, I move as discreetly as possible over to the sofa and start rummaging around, digging my fingers down the edge of the cushions. They brush against a few crumbs and a hair tie, but no key. My face is flushed now, the blood rushing around my head and making me dizzy. Where could it be?
Wait, I didn’t just come in and collapse on the sofa. I went up to the bedroom window first so that I could check he was still asleep.
I take another quick glance at the bathroom. He’s getting changed out of his work clothes now. The last step in his routine. He won’t be long.
I scurry over to the front door, flinching as it squeaks open, then practically fall over myself as I make my way back to the bedroom window. Something metal glints in the sun and my heart leaps. I have to be careful. If he comes out of the bathroom he might see me through the window. Taking a measured breath, I peek around the corner through the glass. The coast is clear. I snatch the key up and run back to the front door. There are mere seconds between me slipping the key back onto the keyring and into his pocket and him appearing in the doorway.
‘You OK?’ His brow furrows as he takes in my flustered appearance.
‘Thought I saw a rat.’
I hold my breath, convinced he’s going to tell me he saw what I was doing.
‘Better make sure you’re keeping on top of the housework. Cannae be having no rats chewing things up.’
I nod quickly, relief flooding through me at his response. ‘I will, don’t worry.’ He grunts in acknowledgement before swinging his jacket onto his shoulders, key safely in his pocket, and heading out to the barn.
I am alone in the cabin once again.
With trembling hands, I sink down onto the sofa, my heart still racing from the close call. I’m too far gone with my plan now. That woman is here. I’m going to have to find a way out. If I don’t then she’s going through all this for nothing. But now that the clock is ticking and it suddenly seems so real, just the thought of trying to leave makes my blood run cold. The iron-shaped scar prickles.
What’s worse? The fear of staying locked in this lie of a life, or the fear of what he might do to me if I try to leave?
I lick my lips, picturing it. His face if he were to catch me making a run for it again. I think back to the man who knocked at the door and asked for directions. I should have asked him for help. I could have begged him to take me with him, to help protect me against Cal. But I was so scared that Cal would kill him, and now he’s long gone. The first person to knock at our door in all the years I’ve lived here. Who knows when we might get another visitor, if ever.
The sound of his heavy footsteps returning from the barn snaps me out of my thoughts. I shudder and brace myself, steeling my nerves as he walks back into the house. His expression is unreadable as he enters the room, his eyes flickering over me. The silence between us is thick with tension, each moment ticking by like an eternity as I struggle to maintain my composure.
He walks over to me, his gaze piercing through my facade of calmness. ‘You’ve been acting strange lately,’ he mutters, his voice low and dangerous.
I swallow hard, attempting to keep my face neutral. ‘I’m just tired.’
He studies me for a long moment, as if weighing my words against some invisible scale. Finally, he holds out a hand to me. I have no choice but to take it, standing and hoping that my knees won’t buckle.
‘Let’s go to bed then, aye?’
My blood runs cold at his words, the truth of what he’s asking of me unmistakable. I can’t live like this anymore. Not now you’re relying on me to give you a better life. I need to get out of here. But now is not the time. I need to tread carefully. Follow the plan. Until then, I have to play the role of the obedient wife to perfection.
With a trembling hand, I reach out to touch his arm, mustering up all the false affection I can manage.
‘You always know what’s best for me,’ I say, forcing a lightness into my voice that makes my skin crawl.
His face breaks into a smile at my words, but there’s a glint in his eyes that sends a shiver down my spine. He leans in closer until I can feel his hot breath tickling my ear.
‘That’s right. I always know what’s best for you.’