Authors: Margaret Bingley
'Neither could I!'
Roger shrugged. 'Suit yourself, but I doubt if she'll think you’d mind. All grist to your sexual reputation! No, if she's the wife you want then I imagine you've got her. Thanks for the loan, I enjoyed it. Next time I'll have her first.'
'There won't be a next time.'
'Of course there will. Once you get a taste for this kind of thing there's no going back. I'll bring a bird along as well. Foursomes are good fun, especially if you get the women to work on each other. That's a great turn-on.'
'Sod off home,' said Toby wearily, and was asleep on the settee before Roger had shut the front door behind him. He was woken at six-thirty by the door bell, and knew who the visitor would be before he opened the door.
'You look fresh and bright!' said Bishop with the faintest hint of a smile round his mouth. 'A hard night, was it? Difficult to get the little lady to agree?'
'You could say that.'
'But she will marry you?' 'I think so.'
'That's not good enough, Toby.' 'All right, yes, she will.'
'Good, I'll pass the message on. Make it soon, he'll want to see a picture in the paper before the week's out. Special licence naturally.' 'Naturally,' said Toby, thankful that for once he'd managed to do the right thing.
'The arrogant bastard's gone and married her!' snarled Neal Gueras, hurling the Daily Mail across his office in a fury. 'Didn't you tell him what I said? Didn't you make my wishes clear?'
'Of course,' said Bishop smoothly, bending down to pick up the paper and noticing how drawn the bride looked, and how satisfied the groom.
'Then what the hell does he think he's playing at?'
Bishop shrugged. 'Perhaps she's the one who pushed him into it. From what I've heard she's pretty besotted.'
'That isn't what I’ve heard,' said Neal coldly. 'In my opinion he's done this deliberately, in order to show us that because he's going through a period of temporary fame, he's untouchable.'
'You could be right, but… '
'He treats her badly,' said Neal abruptly. 'She isn't the type of girl who'd put up with that.'
'Maybe she enjoys it. Some do, you know!'
'I'm well aware of that, although you appear to have a monopoly on the supply. Now get out, you’re beginning to annoy me. If I thought for one moment that my message hadn't been passed on… ' 'I assure you it was. Even though I did wonder if he was going to play ball.'
'A minute ago you were blaming her.'
'A mistake,' responded Bishop, knowing full well that it had been, and furious with the hapless Lisa for putting him even temporarily out of favour.
'Keep watching them,' ordered Neal as Bishop started to leave. 'If there's any trouble I want her out, understand?' 'Yes.'
'Good. Tell Mrs Watts to get me an up-date on the price of gold, and send Rose in for dictation.'
'Yes, sir. How's Mrs Gueras?' he added politely.
'Since when did you care? She's exactly the same of course. Now get on with your work.'
Lisa sat staring at her wedding ring, no longer able to twist it nervously round her finger because it was so swollen, but picking at it restlessly as she waited for her husband to come home.
She was scarcely recognisable. Her face was pinched and there were dark hollows beneath her eyes. Her right cheekbone was bruised, and above her right eye there was a fading yellow mark. Similar marks covered her upper arms and breasts, but since she'd stopped going to the ante-natal clinic she was spared the humiliation of people knowing that Toby was always knocking her about.
She'd never had any time for battered wives, believing in her youthful ignorance that no one needed to stay with a man who physically abused them. Now she knew better. Her fear of him was so great that she was more terrified of having him come after her and possibly kill her than she was of staying with him. At least he was out a great deal, working, drinking or laying some dollybird. She didn't care if it was the latter; it was only the drink that caused the trouble.
He was rarely sober any more, and she didn't know why that had happened either. There were rumours in the paper of his show being axed, but that didn't make any sense as it was high in the ratings. Toby refused to discuss what he called total fabrications in the gutter press he had once courted so assiduously.
She wondered if he was in debt because sometimes when she was alone at night, men would ring up, refusing to leave messages with her; men who sounded both dangerous and annoyed. Again Toby wouldn't talk about them, except to say that they were friends. They didn't sound particularly friendly to her.
Hearing his key in the lock, her stomach lurched and she began to tremble. She knew he was drunk because he was having so much trouble with the door, but she didn't dare go and help him because that would be wrong. Nearly everything she did these days was wrong. She was amazed to realise he'd brought people back with him; amazed, and at first relieved, until she recognised Roger and his current girlfriend, an underage blonde nymphette called Candy. 'How's my little wife?' sneered Toby, nearly tripping over the edge of the rug. 'Fine.'
'That's what we like to hear, isn't it, Candy?' Candy gave a girlish squeal of laughter and stared adoringly at Toby. 'Like her?' he continued. 'Think you'd fancy her?' Again a squeal of laughter.
'What are you on about?' asked Lisa, keeping a wary eye on Roger who was blocking the only exit.
'We've come to keep you company. I've been neglecting you lately, so Roger and Candy are going to help me make up for my lapse.'
'No, they're not. I know what you're suggesting and I absolutely refuse. If you don't get those two out of this house, I'm calling the police.'
'I don't think so, sweetheart,' he laughed, and pulled the telephone cord out of its socket. She glanced round the room. Roger was still by the door, his eyes glinting. Candy stood by Toby, her cheeks flushed with excitement, while his blue eyes were cold and full of hate.
'Why did you marry me?' she whispered. 'Why force me to marry you when you don't like me any more than I like you?'
'But I do! I like you so much I want you to get to know all my friends personally. Into the bedroom, unless you want Roger to carry you, and he can be a little rough when he's high.'
'Get them out!' she hissed through clenched teeth.
Toby reached towards her and pulled her blouse off her shoulders. 'Now get the rest of your clothes off.’
She knew that this time she had to stand up for herself and the baby. Toby was beyond all reason, set on some mad course of destruction intended to include her, and he wasn't going to succeed. She looked quickly round the room before turning docilely towards the bedroom door.
'Good girl, I knew you'd see sense!' he laughed, and then she turned, picking up the nearly empty whisky bottle lying on the telephone table and smashing it against the wall so that she was left holding the neck , extending the hideously jagged edge towards Toby . 'Get them out of here or I'll cut your face to ribbons, Toby Walker,' she said softly. Candy gave a scream of fright and started to move towards Roger. 'You too, Candy,' continued Lisa, never taking her eyes off the frozen Toby. 'If you don't get out of here I'll cut your face as well, and let's be honest, that's about all you've got going for you, isn't it!' With one final frightened squeak, Candy wisely fled. After a brief delay, Roger followed, leaving husband and wife alone. 'You wouldn’t do that,' said Toby quietly. 'You haven't got the guts to cut me. I'd break your arm before you got near enough.' 'Try me.'
He looked at her face and tried a change of tactic. 'O.K. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have… '
'Too right. I don't know why you married me, or why you're behaving like you are, but I've had enough. I'm leaving here and now, and nothing you do or say will stop me.'
'You can't leave me. People will ask questions!'
'What people? I don't know anyone who cares what happens to me, and I'm certainly not going to go round boasting about what's gone on in this house during the past few months. All I want is peace, and that’s something I'm never going to get with you—you're insane! Now get out of my way.'
'You've made a big mistake, Lisa, and you’re going to be sorry,' he snarled, and suddenly lunged towards her. Startled and terrified she jabbed the bottle forward and up, feeling the impact as it came into contact with his face, and hearing a dull tearing sound.
Maddened beyond any sense and shouting furiously, he began to pursue her round the room. She managed to cut him twice more before he cornered her, but eventually found herself trapped against the wall, and at the sight of the blood pouring from his torn face she lost her nerve and began to scream, a scream that turned to a shriek of terror as he caught hold of her arm and twisted it, forcing her to drop the bottle to the floor.
She heard a bone snap and felt a blinding flash of pain shoot up into her shoulder, but still she kicked out, trying desperately to keep him at a distance, certain that he was going to kill her and her unborn baby.
'You cow!' he whispered as he closed in. 'You're going to wish you'd never been born.'
She screamed again but there was no point because there wasn't anyone within earshot. As the first blow landed on her stomach, she felt certain that she and her baby were about to die.
After a few minutes she began to lose consciousness. She could no longer try and protect the baby and her screams started to die away as she slid slowly down the wall. Her soft whimpering only infuriated Toby more, and he was yelling obscenities at her as he picked up the broken bottle, holding its jagged edge lightly against the skin beneath her left eye.
'If you think you're leaving me, you're wrong,' he hissed furiously. 'I'm not giving up after everything I've been through for you. I'll make such a mess of your face that for the rest of your life you'll be grateful if a man's even kind enough to speak your name.'
'You haven't done anything for me!' she cried, attempting to twist her face away but finding it caught between the fingers of his left hand.
'Of course I have. Where do you think I went on all my evenings out? Pub crawling? Stupid bitch! I was… '
'Get away from her, Walker,' said a quiet voice. Toby froze, the bottle still by her face but his expression suddenly one of fear. 'Step back slowly,' the voice continued. 'Any sudden moves might frighten me, and when I'm scared I tend to shoot first and see if I was right afterwards.'
For a second Toby hesitated. Lisa actually felt the glass prick her skin but was too terrified to utter a sound because the voice that had interrupted her nightmare was deadly despite its softness. Deadly and familiar. He was the man she'd seen in Simon's hall on Boxing Day. 'Don't make any more mistakes, Walker, you can't afford them. Step away from her.'
'I'll get you one day,' whispered Toby before backing off, turning away from her to look at the visitor.
'Now fetch her robe from the bedroom.' 'Why the hell… ?'
'She needs medical attention. Even private hospitals might ask questions if we take her in looking like that.'
Lisa, unable to stop shaking and whimpering, realised that her blouse was torn to shreds and blood was dripping from the cut beneath her eye and landing on her cream skirt. Taking the robe from Toby's outstretched hands she tried to put it on, but the pain from her right arm made her scream aloud.
'Help her,' instructed Bishop.
'No! Don't let him near me, I'll do it. I just… '
'Certainly not. Move aside, Walker, and sit down quietly in the corner.' Toby obeyed, all aggression suddenly gone, and now Bishop moved forward, glancing down at her. 'Didn't your mother tell you that rough games get out of hand? Too much excitement always ends in tears, you know.'
'It wasn't a game! He… '
'Lost your sense of humour? I didn't honestly think it was a game. Neither of you looks as though you've had any fun at all! Come on, let's just drape it round that shoulder.'
She cringed inwardly at his touch, not because he hurt her—he was amazingly careful and caused no pain at all—but because he made her skin crawl. He'd saved her life, and hopefully the baby's too, yet she couldn't feel grateful. He was enjoying himself far too much for her to feel anything but increased dislike.