I wipe the spittle from my lip after having thrown up for what feels like the hundredth time today. I look at myself in the mirror and shake my head. My body is rejecting the hangover plus the fear of what I saw Lawrence do with those scissors.
I go into my bedroom and lift my mobile. I pull up the number on the screen and select the option to call. After a few seconds, the line connects and starts to ring. I don’t have a lot of time before he gets back from the last-minute job and my stomach lurches as I think about what I am actually doing. I want to believe in what Lawrence says to me, but after seeing what I did earlier, I don’t know if I can trust him at all.
Ring, ring, ring…
I almost hang up, the fear of what Lawrence would say if he found out I was checking up on him almost chokes me. But then someone picks up.
‘Good afternoon, Steak House, how can I help?’ a chirpy female answers.
‘Hi,’ I pause to clear my throat, although my voice is shaking. ‘I was in your restaurant with my partner yesterday, and I seem to have misplaced a bag. I wondered if you’d come across anything, if something had been handed in?’
‘Hang on and I’ll just check. Could you describe it? Just so I know what I am looking for?’ she says, sounding just as hopeful as I am.
I explain the dress I had chosen and where we’d been sitting and I am left waiting for a few moments while, I presume, the girl leaves to ask her colleagues if anyone has come across it. After a short time, I hear the sound of someone lift the receiver over the echoes of clinking glasses and happy chattering between diners.
‘Sorry to keep you waiting,’ the girl says. Something in her voice sets off a siren in my head and I push the phone closer to my ear. ‘Apparently the man you were here with handed it directly to a member of bar staff and told her to put it in the bin.’
‘He said what?’ I feel my jaw drop and I almost laugh in disbelief.
There is a pause, as if the girl is hesitating, like she wants to say more. ‘Do you want me to put the dress by for you so you could pick it up?’
‘Erm, yeah. Thanks. I’ll come by later today.’ I almost hang up before I continue. ‘Can I ask, what the girl behind the bar said?’
‘I’m sorry, but I have to free the line for bookings. If you come in, I’m sure you’ll be able to speak to her.’
I thank her and hang up before heading to the bathroom and applying as much make-up as I can to cover up the bruising to my face. I do a relatively good job and get dressed, all the while wincing as I manoeuvre my clothes over the bruising to my ribs.
I enter the restaurant a little over an hour later and walk towards the front reception, where a woman is standing holding some menus. She greets me with a smile and I offer a small nod in acknowledgement.
‘Hi, I called earlier about the dress that was left here yesterday?’ I say and I can tell that the girl knows what I am talking about.
‘Wait here please,’ she says, walking away from the reception desk and towards the bar.
I glance over at the table I was sitting at with Lawrence the day before and sigh inwardly. Why would Lawrence do something like this? Would Lawrence do something like this? This has to be a mistake, surely? But then a vision of those blades slicing through my top and the cold look in his eyes flashes in front of me.
I look up to see the woman from the reception walking towards me, accompanied by another woman, around the same age as me. My stomach does a little flip and I suddenly feel sick.
‘Hi, you’re the girl who called about the dress?’ woman number two asks.
‘Yes, that’s me. Do you have it?’ I ask, noting that she isn’t carrying the bag.
‘I do, it’s in the office. But could we have a quick chat first?’ she says, her eyes fixed on mine with a certain reserve.
This is it, I think to myself. The moment that what this woman is about to tell me is going to send my world crashing to the ground. I think I know what’s coming, but I try not to focus on that, instead I follow her as she leads us through the restaurant and to a table at the back. She gestures for me to sit and I do. She sits down next to me, keeping an appropriate amount of space between us.
‘I’m Kirsten,’ she says.
‘Beth,’ I offer. ‘My partner handed the dress to you?’
‘He did. He said…’ she pauses, as if psyching herself up before she says the words. ‘By the way, would you like a drink?’
I think about it, wishing she would just tell me what he said, but having a stiff gin to soften the blow of what she is about to tell me and what I saw today doesn’t sound like too bad an idea. ‘Yes, I’ll have a gin and tonic, please.’
Just moments later my drink is placed in front of me and I stare down at it, watching the little bubbles of gas rising to the surface.
‘So, what happened?’ I ask.
‘I’m not sure how to say this and I can assure you that this is very difficult for me. When I found out you’d called, I felt sick.’
As do I at this precise moment. All sorts of scenarios are spinning around in my head. What the hell did he say to this woman to make her nauseate at my phone call?
‘Your partner, he was very charming at first.’
I look at her but her eye contact with me is ever so slightly off. Why can’t she look at me?
‘He asked politely if I’d put the bag in the bin for him and he chatted loosely for a moment. I presumed you were in the bathroom at the time. I took the bag from him and the way I lifted it, the dress fell out and onto the floor. I realised that the tags were still on it as I picked it up. He was watching me and I told him that I thought he may have given me the wrong bag. He questioned why I thought so and I showed him the dress, stating the obvious, that it was brand new.’
I watch Kirsten’s eyes dart towards my drink and suddenly she raises her hand. I look up to see a barman walking towards us with a glass in his hand and he places it down in front of her. She smiles at the man and lifts the glass, taking a large mouthful. She swallows hard and puts the glass down.
‘What did he say,’ I ask, ‘when you told him the dress was brand new?’
She eyes me, and I sense she has her guard up. ‘He shrugged his shoulders. I asked again if he was sure he had the right bag and he leaned across the counter and grabbed my wrist.’ I feel my eyes widen upon hearing her words and, at that, I lift my own glass. ‘I tried to cry out, but the shock of his grip and the pain stunted me.’
Fuck!
‘What did you do?’ I ask.
‘Nothing. I just stood there, staring at him. I couldn’t look away, something about his stare made me think he was going to kill me right there.’
I blow out a lungful of air and I want to cry. ‘Did he say anything else?’
‘He said that if I didn’t put the dress in the bin, he would wait until I was leaving after my shift and strangle me with it. He said it so quietly that I had to convince myself that I wasn’t hearing things.’
‘Fuck,’ I say out loud this time. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Not really,’ she replies.
‘Did he leave a bruise on your wrist?’ I ask, staring down at her hands.
‘No, if he did I would have called the police straight away.’
‘What about CCTV?’ I ask, sounding too hopeful.
‘None pointing to that side of the bar. It was as if he knew,’ she says. We both take a drink and she smiles at me. ‘I’m so sorry to have to tell you all this. I’m sure it’s not what you were expecting at all.’
She’s right, I wasn’t expecting this. I wasn’t expecting to have to spend the day after my birthday investigating if my boyfriend is lying to me. Turns out, he is a liar. If this had been the beginning of our relationship, I’d have told her she was lying and walked out. I go to tell her that I am not surprised. But instead I simply lift my sleeve and show her my own bruising. I don’t know why I feel comfortable showing her this, if it was anyone else, anyone close to me, I’d have kept quiet.
She gasps. ‘Him?’
‘He said it was the bouncer from the club we went to. But I don’t believe him. I was too drunk to remember anything, so I have no real proof.’
‘What about going back to the club and asking the staff? They might be able to help you? Maybe they’ll have some CCTV footage?’ Kirsten suggests. I hadn’t thought of that.
‘I suppose I could do that.’ I sigh loudly. ‘I’m so sorry you got dragged into this.’
‘I don’t have to see him again, I’ll survive. But if you do decide to go to the police, please tell them about this. I don’t mind. If it means he doesn’t get to behave like this again, I will help.’
I smile at her, a silent thank you. I ask her for the dress and she gets up, a second later returning with the bag. She hands it to me and I finish my gin, my head still sore from the night before. I open the bag and see the dress I had picked out yesterday and the events which have led me to this point.
‘Beth, take this,’ Kirsten says and hands me a small card. I look down at it and the words jump out at me. Women’s Aid – Edinburgh
‘What is this?’ I ask because I don’t know what else to say.
‘You don’t have to stay with someone like him. If you’re questioning his behaviour then it’s not a good relationship. I was with a guy who tried to control me. Stopped me from seeing my friends, my family. He even tried to control what I was eating. My mum tried to tell me numerous times, but I was blind to it all in the beginning. I got out of there as quickly as I could when I realised it myself – after he hit me for the first time.’ Her eyes fall upon my arm where my bruises lay. ‘You can do the same.’
Is this really happening? Have I become one of those girls?
‘How much do I owe you for this?’ I say, holding up the empty glass and trying to stay calm.
‘Oh, nothing. Honestly, it’s the least we can do. I hope you’re able to get away from him, Beth. Men like him are dangerous.’
‘I know,’ I reply. ‘I’ll be fine.’
I stand up and hold the bag up by way of thanking her again and head for the door. When I get out into the fresh air, the realisation of the situation hits me, like a punch in the gut. I slide the card into my pocket and hold back the tears.
I round the corner of the restaurant and lean against the wall. He threatened to kill Kirsten. He said he would strangle her with the dress. Those were the words he used. At that, I lean over, placing my hands on my knees, and the gin rushes up from my stomach and out of my mouth.
I pull a tissue out from my handbag and wipe it across my lips. I stand up, take a deep breath and walk home.