I wear my yellow long-sleeved dress with the white cuffs, the one he always says he loves on me. It’s a little bit tight around the top of my stomach but flows nicely at the bottom. I tie my hair back and pop on a light layer of makeup. It seems ridiculous, faffing with these things when I only have a finite amount of time to search for another key, but the last thing I want is for him to arrive home with the doctor and for me not to be ready.
I study my reflection in the mirror once I’m done, looking myself up and down. This is a dress for him. It’s not one I’d choose. In fact, none of the dresses I own are ones I’d choose. I squeeze my eyes shut and try desperately to remember the sort of clothes I wore before I came here. I had a fabulous black sleeveless dress that just barely covered my bum. It was always my pick when I went out for an evening with my friends. It made me feel confident and sexy. Cal would say disgusting and whoreish.
Now that I’m ready for his return, whenever that might be, it’s time to force myself to focus on the matter at hand. I need to see if there’s another set of keys hidden around anywhere.
I start my search in the living room and kitchen. I rifle through the drawers, even though I’ve been through them a million times and know I would have seen a set of keys if they had been there. One potential hiding spot down, Lord knows how many to go. I bite my lip as I search, checking over my shoulder every few seconds, certain Cal will rush in and catch me in the act. I sift through the depths of the cupboards, then do the same for the bookshelves, carefully removing each book and checking it thoroughly, even flicking through every page, before sliding it back into place. Nothing. I run my hands along the underside and back of each drawer, feeling for any secret compartments. Still nothing.
Frustrated, I move on to the bedroom, though my hope is dwindling fast. I already searched the cabin thoroughly the first time I went looking for a key. I can’t imagine anything’s changed since then.
I go through his bedside table, his wardrobe, the dresser. I even check inside his shoes. No spare keys.
Dejected, I sit on the bed and pull out Gemma’s letter, the one I saved, rereading it. I’ve read it so many times I don’t even have to have the physical letter in my hands anymore. I know what it says word for word. But I like having it, even though it’s risky. Feeling it under my fingertips is like a security blanket.
Go at night and use the stars to guide you.
Gemma’s advice lingers in my mind as Cal’s truck pulls up in front of the cabin and I tuck the letter away once more. At least if I go at night I won’t need to worry about finding another key to the barn. But it’s risky. So, so risky to attempt to leave while he’s here. I picture Gemma begging for forgiveness as he broke her legs. A horrid tingling sensation works its way up my shins and my thighs and I have to shake them. What happened to Gemma? She said she’d come back for me and she never did. Does that mean he caught her? Is she lying in a shallow grave beyond those trees somewhere?
And once again, as they always do when I look out of the window these days, my eyes flick to the barn.
My actions have meant I’m no longer his perfect wife. I thought I was being clever, suggesting he bring someone else here. I thought it would take some of the heat off me and make it easier to escape. But when he brought me to the barn, his next ‘Mary’, Gemma knew her time was up.
Does that mean mine is up too?
Cal steps out of the truck and slams the door shut behind him. The doctor isn’t with him. My heart sinks. Cal strides towards the cabin door, and I scramble to sit at the table before he enters. When he does, his eyes immediately find me.
‘Where’s the doctor?’ I ask, my voice wavering only slightly.
‘Nice to see you too.’ He shakes off his coat. My eye flicks to the pocket in which I know he keeps the barn key. When Cal turns back to me his lip curls. ‘There was a time I’d come home to a nice home-cooked meal on the table.’
‘It’s only three.’
‘A cup o’ tea then. Anything?’
Forcing my lips together to stop me saying something I shouldn’t, I head to the kettle. Once it’s boiling I take a chance again.
‘So, the doctor, he … he wasn’t there, or?’
‘He’s a busy man, Mary. Says ye dinnae have anythin’ to worry about. A bit o’ bleedin’ is normal.’
I clench my jaw and grip the edge of the counter to steady myself as I pour the water into two cups. Normal. How could he possibly know what’s normal? Cal didn’t even see the blood. Didn’t even ask how much there was or what it was like. I know with absolute certainty that he didn’t even speak to a doctor. Why would he? That would mean revealing I’m here. I doubt there’s a single person in the world other than him who knows that.
‘Well, that’s … that’s good to hear.’
Cal is at the table now, boots up, waiting expectantly.
I bring him the tea and he takes it without looking at me. I sit across from him and wrap my hands around my own mug, seeking its warmth.
‘I was thinking,’ Cal says, leaning back in his chair. ‘It’s been a while since we had a nice dinner together. Why don’t you make us something special tonight?’
Something special. I know exactly what that means. The thought makes my skin crawl.
‘Of course. What would you like?’
He grins. ‘Surprise me. Impress me.’
I take a sip of my tea so that he won’t see the look of disgust on my face. It burns my lips and my tongue.
‘I’ll make one of your favourites,’ I say once I’ve managed to swallow the scalding liquid.
He beams, satisfied. ‘That’s my good wife.’
‘Drink your tea and then why don’t you go and get cleaned up? I’ll start the prep.’
One more evening. That’s all I need to get through. I just need to keep him happy until he falls asleep.
‘Oh, I almost forgot.’ Cal jumps to his feet and rummages about in his coat pocket. He pulls out something circular and silver. My mouth drops open.
‘Is that a …’
‘CD player. Aye. Old one. They don’t really make ’em like this anymore. But figured some music might help to cheer the place up a bit. Think it’s needed lately, aye?’
He places the CD player on the table and presses one of the buttons. The room erupts into music. Violins and cellos swell together, dancing around each other, weaving a tapestry of sound that I swear I can see in the air between us. It’s been so long since I’ve heard music that my eyes sting with tears. The last time must have been before …
Cal grins at my reaction, mistaking my tears for something else entirely. ‘Thought you’d like it.’
‘Thank you,’ I stutter, my voice shaking.
‘No problem, hen.’ He leans over and kisses me on the cheek before downing the last of his tea. I watch him leave the kitchen, his heavy footsteps retreating into the bedroom. Then I do something I haven’t done in a long time. I let out a deep breath and allow myself to weep silently into my hands.
I only cry for a few minutes, long enough to get it out of my system so that I can focus on what actually needs doing. Then I get to work on making the heartiest, most filling pie I can muster. I want him full. I want him drunk on the whisky I’ll serve him with dinner. I want him dozing off by the fireplace this evening, barely able to keep his eyes open. I want him to sleep deeply.
Cal inhales deeply as he comes back out to the kitchen, drinking in the aroma of simmering broth. I have to admit, I’ve outdone myself this time. The very smell of it is making me so hungry I can almost forget about everything. Almost. The planning, the scheming, is still there. It’s always there these days, churning over in the back of my mind. I need to make sure I eat enough tonight that I’m satisfied for a good leg of the journey, but not so much that I’m sluggish and slow. I also need to make sure I’m leaving enough leftovers to put into a Thermos to take with us. That poor woman in the barn is probably starving.
‘Smells great,’ Cal says, patting me on the back. He leans over me and plucks the spoon from my hand, ladling up some of the sauce and tasting it. His mouth makes a horrible slurping noise as he does it. ‘Could do wi’ a touch o’ parsley, me thinks.’
He disappears out to the garden and I grab the spoon just in time before it sploshes back into the pan. I’ll wash it up, get the pastry prepped and then I’ll start him on the whisky. That gives him a good couple of hours to get sufficiently inebriated.
‘Mary?’ Cal’s voice calls from outside just as I’ve started rolling out the pastry.
‘Yes?’
‘Come ’ere a moment, will yous?’
Annoyed at the interruption, I wash my hands of flour and wipe them on my apron before heading to the garden.
The sight that awaits me makes me want to throw up. Cal is sat next to the open trunk, my stash of supplies and my notebook on the floor by his feet. I freeze in the doorway as if I’ve walked face first into a brick wall. Cal’s expression is unreadable as he looks up at me.
‘What’s all this then?’
His voice is a scalpel, precise and cutting. My mind races, trying to think of some plausible explanation, but nothing comes. He’s caught me red-handed.
I take a breath. ‘I … I can explain.’
‘Can ye now?’
He stands slowly. I’ve always known he’s a big man, tall and broad, but right now he seems to fill the space in front of me, blocking out the sun. He stares at me directly in the eyes, waiting for this explanation that I apparently have.
I take a step back instinctively. ‘It’s not … I didn’t …’
‘Not what? Didnae what?’ he spits. ‘G’on. Explain.’
My mouth opens but no words come out. I’m trembling now. My brain has melted into a useless muddle. I can’t string a thought together, let alone a sentence.
He picks up my notebook, flips through the pages. Potential routes, supply lists, scribbled notes. Evidence of my planned escape.
‘One. When Cal gets home, get him drunk,’ he reads, beginning to pace in front of me. ‘Two. Tire him out. Sex? Is there anything I can slip him? Three. Wait at least two hours to be sure he’s in a deep sleep. Four. Smash his phone so that the alarm doesn’t go off when we leave.’
I shake my head, willing him to stop.
‘Cal, please …’
‘I knew ye were up to something,’ he says, head snapping towards me. I’m astonished to see his eyes are shining. ‘Sneaking around, hiding things from me. After everything we’ve been through. Ten years of marriage and this is what I get, eh? Leaving me in the middle of the fucking night!’
His eyes flash with anger. Or madness.
For a split second I’m overcome with the urge to scream at him that what we have isn’t marriage, that he’s crazier than I thought if he really believes this to be a real marriage, but the look on his face makes my words die on my tongue.
‘Did you really think it would be that easy to leave me, eh?’ he snarls.
Without another word his face twists. He throws my notebook to the ground and lunges towards me. Before I can react, he grabs my arm in a vice-like grip, dragging me away from the cabin. I cry out in pain and shock, stumbling to keep up with his long, determined strides.
‘Cal, stop! You’re hurting me!’
My cries fall on deaf ears. His fingernails dig sharply into my skin as he wrenches my arm, propelling me forward.
We’re a good halfway across our land before I realise where he’s taking me.
‘No. No, please. Stop.’
I try to twist away from him but he’s too strong. The barn looms in front of us, almost as menacing as him. As we reach it, he fumbles in his pocket, pulls out the key that I was planning on stealing in just a few short hours’ time, and rips open the padlock.
As he shoves me roughly through the open door I lose my balance and fall hard onto the dirt floor. Pain explodes in my kneecaps and I shriek. Hay flies up around me in a dusty cloud as I scramble to my feet. Cal slams the barn door shut behind us with a resounding thud. I try to search around me for somewhere to go but there isn’t another entrance. No way out except through the door he’s blocking.
He grabs me by the arms, spinning me around forcefully and seizing the back of my neck. Every cell in my body recoils and he pushes me closer and closer towards the cage. Digging his fingers into my neck, he yanks my head forward so that my nose is nearly touching the bars. Mary Two stares back at me, eyes wide, face gaunt, a mirror of what awaits me.
‘You’re showin’ signs of it,’ he growls.
I blink back tears. ‘Of what? Cal, please …’
‘Signs o’ the devil.’
He forces me closer still to the cage. My face presses against the cold metal and my heart stops.
‘Maybe you need to go in here for a spell, aye?’
‘No.’
Suddenly, I’m right back where I was when I woke up inside that thing. The terror, the hopelessness that I felt back then comes rushing back in a sickening swell. I scream. He just lets me, holding my head down, pressing my cheek into the cold metal. I squeeze my eyes shut, try to block it out, pretend it’s not really happening, but my world is twisting and distorting. I’m having a panic attack again, just like when I broke into the barn. I gasp for air like a drowning woman. My chest feels as though it’s going to explode from the sheer effort of breathing.
Finally he spins me around and slams my back against the cage. The hard edge juts into my spine, causing me to howl. A small smile creeps onto his lips.
‘If ye dare disobey me again I’ll do it. Dinnae think I won’t. An’ this time I’ll leave ye in there until that baby comes out’a ye or dies. Whichever comes first.’