Six Flavours of Sin (19 page)

Chapter 33

If You Walk Out That Door

In a rage, I go and wash my face and brush my teeth. Angrily, I pull on my Doc's, lace them and stalk outside, slamming the door behind me. It takes me less than five minutes to get to the twenty-four hour service station to purchase a whole new box.

I am going to defy him. Yes, I am.

Before I get home I already have one lit. I am so angry that I don't even feel like me. I know why I'm angry. It's because it's the only thing preventing me from crying.

The minute I walk in the door I flounce into a chair next to the phone at the door and dial Selene. I tell her the entire drama in an unconscious stream of despair.

"Fuck him. We're going out again this Thursday too now. You can't keep on taking this shit."

Knowing I have her support somehow gives me calm. Yes, a plan was just what I needed.

"I'll organise for all the girls to join us. Stef, you have to be normal. That guy isn't normal."

Despite preferring not to, I acknowledge this. I am so jealous of girls like Terry whose boyfriends are so secure, and even want to join her when she goes out. Gary despises everyone I call a friend.

"Thanks, Selene. I need this so badly." Tears well up and I suddenly can't speak.

"We are here for you. I'm here for you."

I nod, too choked up to speak.

"Stef?"

A keen escapes my throat as I fan my face, struggling to respond, "Mmm..."

"Oh god. Are you okay?"

I clear my throat awkwardly, "I will be. Thanks. Have to go ..."

"Okay. Call me if you need anything."

I nod again, my face screwing up, tight,
tight
,
tight
, as I try to fight the anguish overwhelming me, "Okay."

"Bye."

"Bye."

I hang up and curl up into a foetal ball hugging my knees.  I cry uncontrollably until I feel numb.

The automaton I have become cleans up the crushed cigarettes. I polish the tables, working systematically around the house cleaning, until I have nothing left to do but contemplate my box of smokes.

I sit down with a fresh cup of coffee on the floor in the lounge, all of the windows open, and I smoke five cigarettes in a row. Actually, now I feel quite ill. I haven't eaten anything since lunch yesterday. Unwillingly I take myself into the kitchen. I am loath to make a mess. I know he'll find fault with something and persecute me for another night. He's going to get the shock of his life next Thursday.

Dinner is ready and waiting when he stalks in the door, moody, pulling his tie off in rough jerks. He pauses in the doorway of the kitchen and glares at me.

"That smells good. I didn't think you'd still be here."

Why? Are you expecting megaslut to come and show you a good time, already?

"You know I have nowhere to go." I feel as though I've imposed on Selene enough and am reluctant to run to her haven. I know she'd understand, but Gary is the reason why I'm even here now. This
should
be his problem.

He stands there, silent, surveying my unhappy face. He knows when he's destroyed me. He's done it before. There's no hiding the fact that I've been crying.

"Good to see you've cleaned up."

Nice to have your slave back, fuckhead?
I shrug in response. What was I going to do? I have nothing else
to
do. I don't even have a book to read. My life is in boxes in storage. And I'll be damned if I'm suddenly going to start reading his collection of Hustler to while away my days.

He continues walking beyond my line of sight and my shoulders sag as I exhale a relief sigh.

He sits down at the table and picks up his beer as he looks at the plate waiting for him. I'm picking at my food, my stomach and throat too tight to consider eating much at all.

His eyes stay trained on me as he takes a long swig from the glass. Unstrung, I watch the blue eyes and wait for the beast.

"Look, Stef. I don't enjoy fighting with you. But a man has to have boundaries. I don't approve of this new you."

I stare back, too afraid to answer.

He pats my thigh, "It's better this way."

Sure it is. Better for you.
"Thanks for trusting me." I swallow the bile that accompanies this.

He leans back, and surveys me with a thunderous expression marring his amazing features. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

I swallow the lump in my throat. "You couldn't trust me for one night."

"And my instincts were
right
."

I stare in disbelief. I can feel my bottom lip trembling, "Nothing happened."

"Only because he was more interested in your friend than you. You couldn't have tried any harder if you'd taken your clothes off right there."

His insult strips me of my humanity. My instinct is to cry. Distraught, I leap from my chair and dash to lock myself in the bathroom. Tight-lipped,  tears threatening to drown me.

I stay there, until I hear him leave. I knew he would. I've been in here for at least an hour. He's gone off to play and I'm stuck here with myself, alone, again.

I unlock the door and venture out, carefully
approaching the dinner table. His plate is cleared of food. I can smell his lingering scent and ache with longing and hatred. Miserably, I sit down and force myself to swallow my cold dinner, between sobs. I don't think I've ever been this unhappy. I feel so powerless.

…
Pause …

… Play …

I have been living for Thursday. It's the only thing keeping me mobile and preventing me from slitting my wrists. He hardly speaks to me. When he does look at me it's with anger and distaste. I count on him going out with the lads on Thursdays. I become
agitated as he prolongs leaving.

His fucking sixth sense is in overdrive. He knows. How he knows, I'll never fathom. But he knows. The girls are due to pick me up at seven-thirty. He's usually long gone by now. And I haven't had a chance to phone Selene to get her to come later because he's been oddly omnipresent.

I can't wait any longer and miserably go to the bedroom. I lock the door and get ready, studiously ignoring him with all of my might when I emerge. He's ignored me for a week. Well, two can play that game. Living separate lives.

I hear the car arrive and the laughter floats in through the window. I pick up my bag which now hides a secret cigarette stash, some money, my ID and keys, and walk through to the front door.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going?"

"Out."

"Oh no you're not."

With great effort I meet his eyes as my legs linger undecided, halfway between him and the front door. The doorbell rings and I turn to it.

"Stefanie, I’m speaking to you!"

"I know. I'm not deaf."
             

He aggressively advances toward me, rage evident in his demeanour and expression.

"What are you doing, Stefanie?"

"I'm going out with the girls. You get to go out. I'm going out."

Laughter bursts out from the other side of the door and the girls sit on the doorbell. Ding-dong ding-dong ding-dong.

He's comes closer, looking livid and ready to destroy me. "No, you are not!"

I am torn. I'm afraid. Plain and simple.

The girls start banging on the door and yelling, "Hellooo! Stefanie!"

I swallow with difficulty. Terrified. I know that this is going to be very, very, bad.

He stalks past me and yanks open the door. He glares at Selene, "What?"

Julie giggles as if she's already tipsy, "Hello. We're here to collect Stefanie."

Selene looks past him to me. She can see I'm ready to go, and she can tell by my expression that I'm in the middle of an awkward situation.

"Come on, Stefanie. Let's go!" All bravado, her gaze swivels to challenge Gary's.

Gary turns to me and warns, "You are not going out with that, that,
thing
!" His finger wavering behind him from his extended arm at Selene.

What have I got to lose?

"Yes, I am."

Julie looks like she's suddenly sobered up. I start walking towards them until I'm on the threshold.

"If you walk out of that door
don't
think you can come back!"

I pause. My stomach is so tight I feel like I'm going to be ill. This is taking more courage than I have right now. I turn back and look at his face, reading absolute sincerity in it. He means this. I
know he means it. He's the man that's told me to get out of his car in the middle of nowhere before. Gary doesn't mess around when he threatens someone.

"Come on, Stef. Let's get out of here."

I swivel and look at Selene.

"Stefanie, I
mean
it."

I turn and walk out to my girlfriends. Terry has said nothing. Her eyes are trying to overpower her face they're so large.

"God, is he always like that?"

I nod. Too choked up to speak. I get halfway to the car when the dread hits me. "I don't think I can go."

Julie immediately reassures me, "Of course you can."

I shake my head, "You don't understand. I have to come back here. You don't."

Selene wheedles, "Come on, Stef. You can't give in now."

I'm too upset to speak. I shake my head and my balled fist smothers my mouth to kill a sob.

"Sorry. I'm sorry you came all this way for nothing. Have fun!"

And I turn and hurry back to my cage.

I hear their voices calling after me. They even wait to see if I'll change my mind. But I don't. All it took was one look at Gary's face and I knew I was never going out unchaperoned ever again.

Glare, as his voice barks, "Good! Finally you show some sense."

My eyes glisten as I stare back in silence.

"I never want those bitches near this house again. I am telling you this once. If I ever see them near you, we are over!"

We're already over. You hardly acknowledge me.

He grabs his pool cue once he knows they're gone and the music is too loud for anyone to hear their phone ring. He leaves in victory as I descend into the darkest mental despair I've yet encountered.

Looking beautiful, I sink onto the floor in the lounge and defiantly light a cigarette.

One tiny victory for Stefanie.

Chapter 34

A Slow Acid

I haven't spoken to a female, or been in the presence of one, for four months. Gary's life has not altered. His male friends pop in every weekend. None of them bring their female partners. I am beginning to think that I'm a secret. He doesn't speak to me unless it is absolutely necessary. The only person who can sense something is wrong is Neville.

Being alone so much has given me plenty of
time to contemplate my predicament. Because of Gary, I have been too embarrassed to stay in contact with the crew from work. I am so humiliated. I know the entire office will have heard about what happened. For this reason alone I haven't gone back and applied for my old job. I know I can't go out, and feel like such a loser, so maintain the briefest amount of contact with Selene as possible. I am ashamed. I am.

Gary despises me with every breath he inhales. His eyes are flat and hard when they encounter me. He constantly seems on the verge of
violence. He always appears to be seething. I am so miserable that I can hardly force myself to eat and am wasting away rapidly. This is a spill-over, childhood residue. It's a habit I just can't seem to break, even though I am fully aware that I am stressing my body.

I am fast running out of money and can see no options open to me without a work wardrobe to wear to apply for new employment. My plans of going anywhere have gone out the window like stale smoke.

I have no conversation. Gary does not touch me at all. Which is saying something. Yet he is the most convincing actor I have ever witnessed. When Neville, Charl or Alan pop in, he laughs and smiles.

He treats me normally as though we are in a happy relationship. I, on the other hand, can't fake it. And they all pick up on my less than enthusiastic attempts at smiling. I am on the verge of tears, permanently. I am so unhappy that I can barely function.

… Pause …

… Play ...

"We're going away this long weekend."

I glance at Gary, sullen. "I'm not going."

"Yes, you are."

I suppress a sigh. He throws a pamphlet at me and tells me, "I'm paying for the food, you're paying for the accommodation."

I look at the cost and hate him. This will deplete my account completely. "I don't want to go."

"I don't care. You're going, because I said so."

I watch him, filled with bitterness. He stands towering over me, curled up in the corner of the lounge with a book I've borrowed from a neighbour. We ended up chatting when we coincidentally washed our windows on the same side, at the same time. She'd started bitching about a woman's work
is never done. I couldn't agree more. And so we have struck up a polite acquaintance, and she lets me borrow books to read.

All I've had to read in this house is Hustler and Playboy, which Gary keeps piled up in pride of place on the coffee table. He thinks reading is for nerds. The only movies he owns are pornographic, which doesn't exactly entertain me. I am grateful for this neighbour. One small act of kindness has helped to keep me sane.

"I'm waiting."

In a huff, I unfurl myself and get my purse. I give him the money and interrogate, "Who's going?"

Because I know he doesn't do anything without his adoring entourage there to praise him for his wit, success, charm, and for being the hottest in their crowd.

"The usual."

I groan inwardly. Time for female scorn to add to Gary's persecution. "That bitch is going. I'd better not catch you talking to her."

He must be referring to Cindy.

"Who
am
I allowed to speak to?"

"Just watch what you say. I don't want any of them knowing my business."

So let me stay home. "Fine."

…
Pause …

… Play …

The worst part of this ordeal, is that we're not
going in Gary's super fast car. Oh no. Gary arranged to have his car stolen through some dodgy connection he has, so that he can claim from insurance and replace the car with a two litre something or other. I have been sworn to secrecy, possibly death, if I tell anyone.

None of his friends know. Poor Gary, such a poor victim of crime. So I am stuck in the back seat of Charl's car, with Gary.
Charl has a new girlfriend. She's just horrid. She's built like a potato, loud, condescending, bleached white blonde, really vain and opinionated, and wears enough make-up for the entire Miss Universe line up. She reeks of crappy perfume and cackles so loudly, in her fake seductive way, every single time either Gary, or Charl, say anything.

I’ve brought a new book along, and pretend to be engrossed as they chatter loudly over Gary's selection of music. Before long we have Alan and Kristy trailing us, behind them we have Cindy,
Neville and Graham. Everyone seems shocked to see me, but no one has yet said anything to me, other than hello.

It's a long drive from Cape Town to Mpumalanga. The joy of Cape Town is that the sun is so bright that it's reminiscent of Mykonos. The beaches are clean, wide and powder soft, with perfect cream sand. I love it. My heart belongs to those mountains and beaches. Driving inland depresses me. The scene flattens as we drive
through the vineyards, before climbing the mountains. It's lush and green with fynbos. Proteas in full splendour flirt on the edge of the highway. Give me a surfboard and the beach over where we're going, any day.

Mpumalanga is home to the Kruger National Park. It's known for dry grass, thorn trees, and wild game, in a very hot and dry climate. Luckily, where we're headed isn't a malaria hotspot. Wretched, I
watch the natural heritage of South Africa whiz past my window. Stunning wild eagles are overpowered by blaring heavy metal. Why do these people have to ruin the drive? The natural beauty and the way the scents change through my window, are devoured by suffocating clouds of cigarette smoke, fake laughter and music too loud and unnatural.

We arrive at a house in the middle of a macadamia farm. It's a glorified shack. Probably an old outhouse, given a fresh lick of white PVA, with its shining corrugated metal roof. We all choose bedrooms in the sparse hovel, put the supplies and bel
ongings in their places. Off the guys go to explore. Naturally I am left alone with Cindy, Kristy and Trish the potato.

The vibe has been less than friendly, so I excuse myself quickly to go back to my room under the false pretence of wanting to finish my book. The bedroom door opens onto the lounge-kitchenette area. I haven't smoked for
months. Yes, I am a wimp. So the thought of being with a bunch of girls drinking, bitching and smoking, sickens me and intensifies my misery. I flop onto my military styled bed, and open my book.

"What's her problem?"

"She's mentally unstable. Gary thinks she's sick in the head."

Oh really.

"She's so thin!"

No I'm not, I'm just not fat like you.

"Probably bulimic."

"I think she's anorexic!"

Why don't you two go get fucked!

"What does Gary see in her?"

"Well, we heard rumours she used to be quite wild in bed."

It's not a rumour, it's a fact. And Kristy, you aren't a saint yourself so shut the fuck up.

"But?"

"Gary doesn't ever mention her so maybe things aren't looking so good."

Yeah, because he's an unstable prick who won't let me be normal.

"He's better off without a nutcase like her."

"He's so hot! How did he end up with a girl like that?"

He is so hot, but that's all he is. Keep dreaming Miss Portly Potato, he's never gonna go near you. I've seen his girlfriends, you haven't.

"Maybe he was desperate at the time?"

He was, to get me back.

"When did they get back together?"

"Alan said he took pity on her when she lost her job."

I lost my job? What the fuck!

"He's such a nice guy. I feel so sorry for him stuck looking after such a leech. And she never smiles. He's so jovial. How does he cope?" Trish says.

The twisting in my stomach is so severe I feel sick with rage. How DARE they judge me? And they're talking about me when I'm close enough to catch them at it too. That does it. I'm not wasting a second of my time with any of them. Fuck them.

"Shh, she's coming."

"Hahahahahaaa! Oh Trish, you're so witty. Would you like some more wine?"

"Oh, hello Stefanie, wine?"

I stare at Kristy being a bitch, "No thanks."

And I stalk past and escape outside. I walk blindly, not knowing where I'm going to go. I just know I have to get away.

Not far, I find a river. I jump onto a rock in the centre, sit down crossing my legs, and continue reading in the blinding sunlight. I'm so hurt I feel like crying but stoically maintain my composure, and pretend this is the best book I've ever read. I have no intention of going back in there. I'm staying right here.

I don't wear a watch and I have no idea how long I've been gone when Neville shows up on the river bank.

"Hey Stef! You coming for lunch?"

No fucking way. "No thanks." I fake a smile,
"I'm not really hungry."

He shoots me an encouraging grin, "Aw, come on. We're missing you!"

No one is missing me of that I can completely assure you. The only person missing me is you.

"No thanks, Neville." And I keep on reading to dismiss him.

"What are you reading?"

"Nothing."

"Oh come on, it's me, not some stranger. Don't be shy, what are you reading?"

I sigh, and show him the cover.

"Awesome. We should chat later. I have some books you might enjoy!"

As I said, nerds read. One thing Neville definitely qualifies as is a nerd.

I smile back. "Sure. See you later! And I continue reading, shielding my eyes.

He stands there looking pensive for at least a further five minutes, only leaving when he hears Gary's voice drifting over, summoning him back. Obediently, he turns to comply.

That's the thing with Neville. He feels like the outcast in the cool kid group. He tries far too hard to please the cool kids. Not knowing how much they ridicule him when he's not present. This is one of the few reasons that I like Neville. I hate Gary for treating Neville with the same flagrant contempt as he treats me. The only difference is, Neville can't see it.

…
Pause …

… Play …

As the sun starts sinking, Gary appears where Neville once stood. "Get inside and help with the food."

I glare back at his despising eyes, "What for?"

Oooh, he looks so enraged.

"Stefanie, for fuck’s sake, must you
always
make a scene?"

Is this for my benefit or for theirs? I stand up, feeling sore and achy from sitting on the hard rock for so long. I jump across and with a mouth as dry as the furnace at the crematorium I walk back to the den of disdain.

I overhear Gary complain to Alan somewhere outside, "She's such a goddam drama queen. If she's not the centre of attention she's like this. Do you see what I have to live with?"

I plaster a fake smile on my face and address Kristy, "Hi, can I help with anything?"

Trish, who is shorter than I am, lifts her chin so that she can look down her nose at me, saying, "Oh, you made sure you were too late to actually do any work. Did you think we didn't notice?"

Fuck you too. "Oh, I'm sorry. Well goodnight, I'm off to bed."

And I flee the suffocating attitudes by dashing to the bedroom, grabbing a blanket and covering myself. Fully dressed. I'll do anything to avoid this persecution. I am so thirsty, I haven't had anything since my morning cup of coffee. And now I'm not eating either, so I can't be accused of pitching up to enjoy others hard work, being a lazy good for nothing anorexic bitch.

"Where's Stefanie?"

Well, at least Neville notices.

"She's gone to bed."

"What?"

Mumble mumble.

I close my eyes when I hear the bedroom door open three minutes later.

"Get up and socialise with them."

I open my eyes and flinch at Gary's hate plastered all over his face.

"I've got a headache. I'm going to sleep."

He leans over me and whispers in spitting anger, "You are making this very hard for me. Stop it. Stop being so fucking childish."

I close my eyes and ignore him.

Just for the record. That was the longest weekend of my life. And purgatory welcomed me with open arms. My misery was only just beginning.