Welcome to your new life at Michael’s mansion, Lorna. Lady of the house. Queen of the castle.
I cried all afternoon in that turret bedroom, lying on the single mattress, looking up at an unpainted ceiling of raw pink plaster. I wanted to go home. I wanted my sister. I wanted to eat. But more than any of those things, I wanted Michael to come up here and tell me he loved me.
As dusk fell, I was too hungry to cry anymore. So I used the black paint and stiff brush to draw a silhouette of Johnny Rotten over the fireplace.
Michael was still downstairs with his wife, Diane. Did he love her? Were they still having sex?
As I put the finishing touches to Johnny Rotten’s eyebrows, the smell of steak and fries drifted up the stairs.
That was it. The absolute limit. I hadn’t eaten all day and I was starving. Michael hadn’t bothered to feed me. This had been a regular thing on tour – probably because Michael thought I should stay skinny – but tonight was different. He and his wife were eating dinner together, while I was stuck up here, hungry, looking at streaky painted walls.
Diane would be making big eyes at my man, playing the sympathy card. ‘Don’t leave me, Michael, we’re married. Give us another chance. Please.’
What if she succeeded?
I worked myself into a jealous fury, imagining my territory being invaded by this woman. Diane and Michael had known each other since childhood. She was beautiful and so skinny. Michael liked skinny. And they were still married. What if Michael was too weak to say no? What if they ended up getting back together?
Something snapped and I just lost it.
I stormed down the staircase, tripped and climbed over building materials, and marched through a hallway into a partially built kitchen extension.
Michael and Diane were in the kitchen, sitting on plastic chairs and eating a steak dinner from china plates in the midst of building chaos. There was a rose sticking out of a coffee cup and a bottle of champagne on a workman’s bench. Tealight candles glittered on top of an oven still in its wrapping.
Diane looked stunning, her pale skin gleaming, eyes glittering. Her blouse was a little bit open and I could see the top of a white lace bra.
‘What’s going on, Michael?’ I demanded.
Diane shrieked and leapt out of her seat, plate smashing on the concrete floor.
Michael stayed calm, putting his plate on the floor and standing. ‘How did you get in?’
‘You brought me in. Tell her the truth, Michael.’
‘You shouldn’t be here, love,’ said Michael. ‘This is my home. You need to leave.’ He took my arm, fingers digging, and pulled me out of the kitchen.
‘What are you doing?’ I said, trying and failing to pull my arm free. ‘You’re having dinner with her while I’m upstairs? She wants you back, don’t you realize that? Tell her the truth, Michael. It’s time she knew about us.’
Diane took deep breaths. ‘Who the hell is this, Michael? What is she doing in our house?’
‘It’s okay, Diane,’ said Michael. ‘She’s just a girl from the shows. A fan. Let me get her out of here.’
‘Get me out of here?’ I struggled against his grip. ‘It’s her who shouldn’t be here. She needs to get over you and move on. She’s had her time. It’s my time now.’
Diane’s eyes widened just the right amount to show she thought I was crazy. Then Michael manhandled me through the house and out the front door. I struggled, but Michael always had superhuman strength when he was angry, and I ended up stumbling behind him.
‘What do you think you’re playing at?’ Michael raged, pulling me away from the house and under dark, cold, hostile trees. ‘I told you to stay in your room. Now you’ve started all kinds of trouble. I feel like strangling you, I swear to God.’
I’d never seen Michael so angry, and for a brief moment I imagined him throttling me and dumping my body out in the roaming woods. He certainly looked like he wanted to.
My stomach pulled into a tight ball. ‘You left me upstairs all day.’
‘You’re pathetic,’ said Michael. ‘Like a child.’
And he was right.
‘It looked romantic,’ I said, my voice high and frightened.
Michael still had tight hold of my arm and began dragging me further into the woods. I couldn’t see the house anymore and the dark anonymity, coupled with Michael’s mood, terrified me. I’d been scared of Michael before, but nothing like this. I’d never felt this blackness from him.
‘If you’d have stayed put there wouldn’t have been a problem,’ Michael raged. ‘You’re jealous. You saw what you wanted to see. I was making things right with Diane. Calming her down. You have to know how to handle her – she can really lose it.’
‘You told her I was a fan. She thinks I’m crazy.’
‘You’ve made a big mess, Lorna. A really big mess. What did you expect me to do? I have to clear it up somehow.’ Sweat glistened on his forehead under a full moon.
‘I want to go back to the house, Michael, please.’ I pulled at him. ‘Where are you taking me?’
Michael met my eyes, all intense and staring. ‘You know I care about you. Right? But you can’t go back to the house now. You’re gonna have to sleep out here tonight.’
‘Where?’
‘Here. See?’ He pointed at shadows through the trees. ‘You’re gonna sleep out here in the cottage. Diane’s gonna stay over and—’
‘No way.’ I pulled back. ‘She’s staying the night? Absolutely no way. If you do this, Michael …’
‘What? You’ll leave? Where will you go? Back to your sister who can’t stand you?’
‘She can stand me. I’ll … I’ll …’
‘Hitchhike your way back to America? Go then. Go on. I’m not stopping you. Good riddance.’
I burst into tears. ‘Do you mean that? You don’t love me anymore?’
‘Sometimes I wonder. Just … don’t get smart, Lorna. I’m trying to fix this. It’s all your fault. Help me out, for God’s sake. I don’t want Diane to flip out again.’
I could see the form of the cottage now, bulky and brown, under the waving branches of giant fir trees. It was a tumbledown place; little holes in the roof and metal boards on the windows. There was a metal door too, with a huge open padlock hanging off it.
‘Please, Michael.’ I shook my head, eyeing over the dark spots where roof tiles had skidded apart. ‘I can’t stay out here. It looks like a horror movie. What is this place, anyway?’
‘It’s the old farm cottage that came with the land,’ said Michael. ‘A beautiful little place. You know, the builders camped here while they were laying the foundations for the mansion. You’ll be fine. Stop being such a princess.’
‘Michael, please don’t make me—’
‘Listen.’ Michael lowered his voice. ‘Diane has pills with her. A whole bag full of pills. If we hadn’t have showed up this morning, she would have taken then. She was this close.’ He held up thumb and finger pinched together.
That changed things. Michael always knew how to pull my strings.
‘Okay,’ I said. ‘I didn’t know she was … okay. Okay, I get it.’
Michael nodded, placing a fatherly hand on my shoulder. ‘Now you understand why I have to play things a bit carefully. Baby steps. The candles and roses – all a bit of acting, but you’re grown-up enough to handle that, Lorna. I know you are. I wouldn’t be with you otherwise. Think of it like this. I’ve got a sick child to look after.’
I looked over the spooky, boarded-up cottage. ‘It’s scary out here.’
‘You’ll be fine.’ Michael led me into the building. ‘I’ll come out later with some blankets and food.’
The cottage was bare inside except for a mattress and bucket on the floor. The whole place smelt funny, like metal. One wall had angry axe marks in it.
‘I’ll come see you later,’ Michael whispered. ‘I’ll sneak out. Like Romeo and Juliet. Okay?’
‘Not okay.’
‘Watch yourself, Lorna. Don’t be spoiled or I’ll lock you in.’
I didn’t want to sit on the mattress, so I huddled up in the corner, hungry, cold and wide awake, listening to the night go on forever.
I guessed it was gone midnight when Michael came back, but I couldn’t be sure – time drags when you’re cold and uncomfortable.
Along with owl hoots and fox barks, I heard crunching footsteps and guessed they belonged to Michael. They were stumbling and out of rhythm.
‘Michael?’ I called out.
Suddenly the door flung open and I screamed and shrank back.
A heavy hand clamped on my mouth and I smelt whiskey. ‘Be quiet. Don’t make so much noise.’
I looked up into Michael’s bleary, bloodshot eyes. He climbed right on top of me, eyes glazed, then tugged at my jeans.
‘Michael.’ I turned my head and tried to push him away. ‘Stop. You’re drunk.’
But he didn’t. Instead, he pulled and yanked at my jeans until I was naked from the waist down, then climbed on top of me and banged away, bang, bang, bang.
He was a drunken dead weight and strong, but once he started I didn’t try to stop him. He was my boyfriend. We’d had sex many times before.
The sex wasn’t quick, and when Michael finally finished, he rolled off, stumbled out and slammed the metal door behind him.
I huddled back to my corner, heart pounding, confused, scared, not knowing what to do, say or think. It was cold – I knew that much. Michael hadn’t brought blankets. But it was too scary and dark out there to consider leaving the cottage. And even if I did make it to the house, who knew what Michael would do when he saw me?
I thought of Dee, and wondered what she was doing now. Working, probably. Looking after a bunch of middle graders. Tears came. If she knew her little sister was here, cold and alone in this abandoned cottage, she’d come and get me. I knew she would. She always fixed everything.
When I was little and Mom told me we couldn’t afford this or that, I’d say, ‘Dee Dee will get it for us.’ I thought my big sister, with her paper route and spare cash, had magical powers. She could always fix things my mother couldn’t. But even if Dee came to fetch me, I’d still be trapped. Because the cottage wasn’t the trap. My mind was the trap. That was something I’d have to fix all by myself.
Eventually, I fell asleep.
In the morning, I woke to sunlight and soft knocking at the cottage door.
I sat up tall, heart racing.
‘Lorna?’ It was Michael’s voice, gravelly and deep.
When I didn’t answer, the door flew open and Michael entered the cottage with a red rose in a skinny vase. He wore jeans and a T-shirt and was showered and shaven.
‘Why didn’t you come back into the house?’ Michael asked, eyes full of concern.
‘What?’
‘I told you to wait out here for an hour while I got rid of Diane, then come back inside. Why didn’t you?’
‘You never told me to come back inside. You said to stay out here. That you’d bring me blankets.’
‘I didn’t say that, honey. I said give me an hour to get rid of Diane, then come back in. Remember? I told you to listen for her car leaving.’ He put down the tray and gave me his big eyes. ‘Look, I’m sorry about yesterday. Forgive me. Let’s get back on track.’
‘Last night …’ I began.
‘Yeah, sorry I didn’t come get you,’ said Michael. ‘I thought you’d be sulking so I left you to it. Then I had a few too many drinks and crashed out. Talking to Diane tires me out. She just goes around in circles.’
‘No. You did come out here.’
Michael looked genuinely confused. ‘No, honey, I fell asleep in the house.’
‘You came here,’ I insisted.
‘Sweetheart, you must have been dreaming. Was it a good dream?’
‘No. It was a bad dream. A nightmare, actually. You were just disgusting.’
‘I hate to tell you this, sweetheart, but I think you’re getting confused between sleep and real life,’ said Michael. ‘You know how you make up stories sometimes. I passed out all night. I came nowhere near this cottage. You know how your mind can be. You’re not always in the real world, are you? After your mother neglecting you like that. And then the cancer. The treatment played havoc with you, didn’t it?’
It’s true, I thought. I’m not stable. I’m losing my mind. It was some weird dream. He fell asleep in the house and I made up the rest.
‘Well, you still left me alone all night,’ I said.
‘Sweetheart, I’m so sorry. I passed out. Swear to God.’
‘It was scary out here. And cold.’
‘Let me make it up to you. I can hardly help falling unconscious through tiredness, can I? Forgive me. Let’s not hold on to this. Listen, Diane’s gone now. She left last night. Let’s get everything back on track and I’ll make sure you’re the girl who gets steak today, okay?’
‘Diane left last night?’
‘Yeah.’ Michael rubbed his nose and forehead. ‘She’s not good. Not good at all. Still talking about suicide and all sorts. It scared me, to be honest. Here I am living with another woman, and she’s telling me she’d break into a million pieces if I ever left her.’ He kissed my head. ‘But my little Lorna wants me to tell Diane the truth, and the truth it shall be.’
‘You know, maybe you should hold off telling her about me,’ I said. ‘Until Diane’s better. I don’t want to be the cause of anything bad happening. And if she’s so fragile …’
‘But, princess, you don’t like all the sneaking around. Right?’
‘I don’t. But … I don’t want Diane to hurt herself. It’s fine. Like you say, a bit of acting might be needed. We know what we have.’
Michael gave me his earnest eyes then. ‘You are pretty much the perfect woman, do you know that? The perfect, understanding, considerate woman. And I am madly in love with you.’
I grinned reluctantly then, sun coming out from behind a cloud.
‘So what do you want to do today?’ Michael asked. ‘I need to make this up to you. We have the whole day together. Do you want to go out on the quad bike?’
‘You’d let me ride your bike?’
‘On one condition,’ said Michael, kissing my neck. ‘You take your clothes off while you’re doing it.’
I laughed. ‘I’ll do anything to ride that bike around.’
Michael made it sound like a fun game, but naked bike riding was just another control thing. If I was naked, I couldn’t go far. Like always, Michael made sure he had an invisible leash around my neck.
Michael took me back into the house and made me steak for breakfast, just like he promised. Then he gave me a ruby ring for my little finger and made beautiful love to me in his bed. Michael wasn’t anything like the man I’d imagined the night before. That man, I decided, was definitely some warped dream born of my creepy surroundings. This was my Michael – gentle and caring. It felt like when we first met and it was perfect.
After that, Michael took me into the woods and let me drive his bike around in my underwear. He brought a shotgun with him and pretended to aim it at me as I drove, saying he was practising his hunting skills.
‘It’s not loaded, is it?’ I called out, laughing and ducking as I drove past him.
After finding Diane at the house and the awful disconnected sex I’d dreamed the night before, I clung to Michael’s loving and attentive mood. Yesterday, I’d felt like a total interloper. Diane had the greater claim. Childhood sweetheart. Married. But today I was his princess. The love of his life.
Still, my brain hurt.
It was getting harder and harder to make the pieces fit together. The things Michael was saying didn’t match the things he was doing.
I knew it but chose not to see it.
I hate myself for that now. I hate myself for so many things I can never change.