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Authors: Elizabeth Preston

BOOK: I Will Not Run
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Chapter 4

Winter

Sunday, 13
th
July

Dear diary, what a day I had!
Today I actually had
fun
. It feels strange writing this down, like I’m lying because how can it be true? Perhaps I’m reading more into today than I should. But, compared to the usual way of things around here, today was special. No, that’s still not right. Today was spectacular.

Bruno came home in the afternoon and guess who was with him? Of course you won’t be able to guess, no one could. Dominic, that skinny old boyfriend of mine.

Dominic was here, today, right here in my home. But this new Dominic doesn’t look much like the boy I remember. Goes to show what eleven years can do to someone. Of course I still recognised him despite his new grown-up look. Way back when we were dating, he was a twenty-one-year-old baby-faced skinny student. Not anymore. Now he’s all angles and hard lines and action-man handsome.

I watched him climb out of his car and wondered if Bruno had finally done it—driven me mad. How often have I dreamt about Dom turning up out of the blue? I never expected it to happen though. I guess today, reality was snoozing on the porch while Dominic squeezed past.

I’ve thought about Dom often over the past decade. Add all those thoughts up and I must have spent weeks, even months fantasising about us getting together again. Over the years my mind has conjured up crazy freak accidents that might throw us together. For some reason, I usually picture him wandering about Sydney with a young wife in tow, strolling hand in hand. Lately, I’ve been visualising the two of them at the zoo. My fantasy grows from there. I picture a zookeeper, an absent-minded one who forgets to lock the baboon cage. Of course the baboon escapes. In my daydream, the baboon goes straight for Dom’s beautiful, young, clever wife, and leaves her in a mess on the pavement. I send flowers and my heartfelt condolences and turn up to the funeral dressed in a black sheath dress with long black gloves looking like Audrey Hepburn.

Conveniently, soon after the baboon attack, the earth opens up and sucks Bruno in and, hey presto, Dom and I are both single again. Did I have faith in this fantasy? Hell no, I’m a realist.

I’ve never told Bruno about Dominic. Not ever, not even a peep. I don’t think I’ve said the name Dominic aloud. There’s a good reason for that too. Bruno made it clear to me right at the start that
his
girl must be a virgin; this was a non-negotiable part of our deal. Back then, as far as he was concerned, I was eighteen and I was from the country so that meant I had to be a virgin. He didn’t consider any other option and I didn’t put him straight either.

Bruno wasn’t hard to fool. He had, still has, this deep-seated belief in his own entitlements. If he’s on the lookout for a virgin, then he’d expect the universe to provide one, quick/smart. He believes that it is his birth right to have the best of everything. And considering the drugs he snorts, smokes, and swallows, it’s no wonder his thinking is so stuffed up.

He’s convinced that he’s some sort of higher being. True. He now believes that his ancestors came from another place. By that, I don’t mean another country. I mean another planet.

I laughed when he told me this. “Yeah?” I said, thinking we were joking together. “Well I’m from Middle Earth. Bilbo Baggins is the name.”

He shook his head as if
I
was the silly one. “You need to grow up, Winter. You’re such a narrow thinker.”

“You believe in scientology now?” I asked, tilting my head, but he walked away and didn’t answer. I still don’t understand.

Anyway, there’s no end to his strange thinking. I’ve just remembered another example. He actually said this to me once, late one night after he’d been out drinking. He said, “You know, when you think about it, it’s only natural that the virgins in town would want me for their first time. If you want your teeth fixed, where would you go? You’d find a dentist. And if you wanted to be banged right, where would you go then? You’d find the top alpha in town. It makes perfect sense.”

Not to me, it didn’t. Maybe he thinks he’s performing some sort of community service like the fire brigade or the Justice of the Peace.

Anyway, back to Dom. I watched a foreign car creep up our driveway, and
blink, blink, blink
the driver looked suspiciously like Dominic,
my
Dominic
. Surely my eyes were fooling me.

He climbed out of a small European car, a car that was parked in
my
drive way. I ran out with my finger pressed against my lips—the universal sign for
shhh
. I was gesturing wildly with my eyes too like a demented person, trying to send this message:
Don’t say one word about our past
. I think he’d already decided to play it cool and not mention our madly-in-love teenage years. He must have realised that a thug like Bruno wouldn’t let his wife’s ex within fifty K’s of his property. Hell, Bruno wouldn’t be comfortable knowing I even had an ex, full stop.

So this is how it happened. Bruno drove up first and a smaller car followed. I know the flashy oversized things Bruno’s boys drive and it was definitely not one of those. This was a stranger, a brave one at that. Not too many strangers venture through our gates, because there are rumours around, rumours I reckon Bruno spreads to keep everyone away. Anyway, I rushed out to meet my husband knowing that when others are about, he likes me to play the devoted wife. I put dark glasses on because that is what Bruno would want, given the circumstances. The glasses usually cover most of Bruno’s temper, but not today. Today, there was no covering the swelling on my cheek.

Then I saw the stranger’s face and, bowl me over, it
really was
Dominic. I wanted to go up and touch him just to make sure he wasn’t a mirage. When he spoke, I recognised his voice. It was him, no mistake. I whipped my glasses off and tried to give him surreptitious winks and secret signals that all meant the same thing: Pretend we’ve never met.

“Hi, honey,” I said, forcing myself to kiss Bruno’s cheek. I hate the feel of his crepey hanging skin.

“Winter, this is Dominic. He’s here to teach you to shoot.”

Really?
Really, truly?
Good things like this don’t happen. I don’t even hope for them anymore. Maybe that’s why I’m so overwhelmed when something does go my way. I wanted to jump up and down and clap but I forced myself to simmer down. The mention of guns and shooting helped. I held the sides of my face down. Then, straining even harder, I pulled my lips into a tight smile and fidgeted, nervously pinching the flesh on my palm. Bruno would be watching and listening, for sure.

Here was a new man, a younger man, a much better man standing on his turf. I’d better keep any hint of excitement out of my voice. Dom, thank-the-lord, seemed to understand the game and be playing along. When he said hello, he barely looked my way. He was being polite but off-hand. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was bored. Maybe he was.

Anyway, he offered his hand and I shook it, formally, like he was a stranger. I pulled my palm away quickly though because I was all sweaty and I didn’t want him to notice.

Dom was the cleverest kid in high school so it wasn’t a surprise that he was acting cleverly now.

I snatched his hand then dropped it. “Nice to meet you, Dominic,” I said, trying to match his slightly pissed-off look.

Bruno glared at me and then he glared at him, then back at me again, mesmerised, like we were two garden gnomes that had suddenly sprung to life.

“Nice to meet you too, Winter. Is that it? Did I get your name right?”

I nodded. Good. Got that established. We just met. Wow, he’s darker and taller than I remembered, way more handsome too. He used to be skinny like a runner but not anymore. He looked edible in those dark jeans and that tight tee. I could almost smell his confidence. Funny, I could tell from the way he held himself, that he wasn’t one bit scared of Bruno. Doesn’t he know who my husband is?

I got so caught up in looking at him that I almost forgot my lines. “But, honey,” I whined just in time, turning back to face Bruno, “you know I hate guns.”

It was important I got the whine just right. I had to make a fuss but not too much of one. The last thing I needed was for Dom to turn around and drive off out of my life. I’d cope with my gun-issue later, somehow. My phobia is no small thing but my loneliness and misery . . . those emotions are eating me up. Some days I feel like I’ve already lost myself.

Dom piped up. “Target practice, that’s all we’re talking about here. Relax, Winter. You might even enjoy yourself. Everyone gets a kick out of shooting at a target.”

Bruno scoffed. “Yep, but then everyone else has more pluck than my wife.”

Screw you, Bruno. Hate you, hate you, hate you.

Dominic’s eyes, suddenly dark and panther-like, flashed at Bruno.
Wow, so much for being off-hand and cool!
Where did that come from?
I don’t remember Dom being so ready to fight.

After an uncomfortable second, that felt more like a minute, he turned back to me. “Winter, I hear you’re afraid of guns.” Even I could tell that he was forcing that patient schoolteacher smile.

“Don’t like to talk about it, really.”

Bruno swung around, showing his teeth. “Well that’s tough, hon,” he said, coming across all sickly sweet, “because you
are
going to talk about it. You’re going to do a whole lot more than talk.”

Then he smirked, like he was about to play his trump card and couldn’t hold his excitement in. “Not only is Dominic here a licensed gun instructor but, guess what, he’s a shrink too. You need him in more ways than one, don’t you, darling?”

“A psychiatrist,” Dom corrected. “I’m a forensic psychiatrist.”

My eyes stretched wide. I was impressed even if Bruno wasn’t.

“Yeah, whatever. I’ll tell you this much for free. Doc, you’ve got your work cut out here. She’s a nutcase and a half, no mistake.”

I was embarrassed. Of course I was. I hated that Dom got to hear that. It was humiliating but what could I do? I shrugged to show that what my husband said meant nothing to me, that it was okay. I could tell that Dom didn’t think so though. His jaw locked tight.

Christ, don’t let him take a swing at Bruno.
He’ll be booted out of here quick-smart. Out our way, gun instructors aren’t easy to find but nothing’s impossible, not for Bruno and all his money. No one takes a swing at my husband and gets away with it.

So to defuse the situation, I blurted, “Bruno, honey, your bark is so much worse than your bite.” I glanced at him fondly which made me want to puke. But honestly, I’d have rather been sick on Dom’s shoes than watch him drive off.

Bruno tilted his head to the side. What I’d said was a blatant lie and we both knew it. My husband’s bite is so much worse than his bark. But, big relief, Dom dropped his shoulders and eased up a bit.

Eventually, he caught my eye and gave me a lopsided grin. Was that pity I saw? God, I hope not.

“Coffee?” I offered in a breezy voice, pretending nothing tense had happened and that there was no blackberry bruise on my cheek.

“Sure. I can’t wait to see inside your beautiful home.”

I stopped, snap-frozen. Was it beautiful? It might be. But I’d rather live in a packing crate or in the bowels of a toilet block, anywhere other than here. I looked up at my character, three storied sprawling country home, the building that has sat silently and watched on for years.

Bruno headed for the house, dismissing us both. My husband is like that when he meets new people, as friendly as a flesh eating virus.

I sneaked a quick peek at Dom and then turned away. We were almost alone now, so why was I feeling so edgy? Meeting him again was not like I’d imagined it would be. My nerve endings were popping and zinging, like I was nothing but skin stretched over an electric wire. I don’t think I’ve ever had so many emotions running amuck before. One moment I felt like a kid at Christmas and the next, I wanted to lash out.

Dom narrowed his eyes and focused on my face. Of course I recognised that look. He was asking me a question, the same question lots of people silently ask me. Everyone wants to know why I’m putting up with this? That question is quickly followed by the sound of tongues tutting and heads shaking. Translation:
You married him, what did you expect? You should have known better.

Stuff everyone!
I have enough to worry about without caring what others think. My life is my business. Maybe this was a mistake after all, Dom turning up here out of the blue.

We stood together watching Bruno climb the steps then stomp into the house. He slammed the screen door behind him.

Dom sighed, his face softening at last. “Winter, how are you, babe? It’s been so long.”

I stared back wide-eyed, like a possum in a torchlight. And then he did what I quickly discovered he does a lot, he searched my face looking for my unspoken answer. Trouble was, no one studies a stranger that intensely, unless he’s the doctor. I wished Dom would be more careful.

At last he said something else. “You’re even better looking now than you used to be.”

I smiled a soppy, giant grin because the rush of pleasure was too sudden and too powerful to hide. But I quickly gained composure and wiped the happiness away. Staring at the ground now, we walked inside, single-file, a solemn procession.

But his flattery had woken the young girl up inside me and she wanted to come out and play. She itched to reach out and touch this strange, new, exciting Dominic, a Dominic that had changed so much over the years.

Okay, I fancy him already. It didn’t take me long, I know but who wouldn’t fancy him? Remember, I know how smart he is. And this new Dominic looks way more like a commando than a head doctor.

He’ll be married for sure, although I didn’t notice a ring. I bet his wife is a doctor too, or something equally as impressive. And if, by some fluky chance, he
is
still single, then after meeting Bruno and seeing what I’ve put up for years, he’ll be turned off me for sure. Who wouldn’t be? I wanted to rip my bruised cheek right off my face.

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