Somewhere Only We Know ....... (8 page)

Our offer was accepted and we had our moving
in date. I packed up the flat, binned more than I kept, but thought
we would replace once we got into the new house.

A couple of
weeks before we were due to move, my mam had to go into hospital
for a hysterectomy. I decided that I would go and stay with her
when she was discharged, she wasn
’
t supposed to do anything for months, but I thought if I
stayed for the first week or so that would get her over the worst.
Keith was working away for a few days that week so it was no
hardship.

The week
flew by, Keith rang me either when I was at work or at my mam and
dad
’
s every day. He sounded
stressed, I think his new job was proving harder than he thought.
When I returned home at the end of the week I knew straight away
something was wrong. I wandered through the flat, but there was
nothing. Call it women’s intuition but I just knew that there had
been someone else there.

When Keith came in I asked him if he had
anyone there, he just called me stupid and said how could he have
had, he had been in Sheffield all week. But I knew.

I
couldn
’
t afford to have all
my insecurities resurface, so I
didn
’
t say anything else. I
finished packing up the flat. I
didn
’
t have any emotional
attachment to the place, I had had some good times there, but it
was also the place we spent our wedding night and that was one
nightmare I was going to try and leave behind.

We also left
Marion and The Commander behind too, not that we
didn
’
t try to keep in touch
with them, they just weren
’
t
interested. We telephoned each other now and again, but Marion
never did see anything of her grandchildren. When The Commander
died a few years later, Marion moved down to the south coast. She
wasn
’
t alone mind she ran
away with one of The Commander
’
s grandsons, he was 19 years old, she was 59. Little did I
know that one day I would be in a similar relationship myself, but
I can remember I shuddered when Keith told me what she had done,
people in glass houses and all that
……
.

We moved
into our little house, it was lovely and I spent my spare time
making it a home for us. It was nice because my family visited us
now. My Granny often popped in and my mam and dad were frequent
visitors. I didn
’
t mind
staying on my own when Keith was away, I felt secure.

I was
promoted at work, I had worked hard on my business studies course
which I attended each week at college and it paid off, I became a
PA to the Accounts Manager. The money
wasn
’
t much better but I
liked my job title. About this time I resumed my friendship with
Jenny. She had come to work at our firm as a temp, she was all
grown up and sophisticated, in fact she was the spit and dab of how
I remembered her mam, it was eerie. She was married to David and
had a baby boy. It was lovely having her back in my life and Keith
liked her, well he flirted with her, but then again so did every
other male she met and more to the point Keith flirted with any
female with a pulse.

One thing
that did happen shortly after we moved back to Kinsley, Keith
started having a drink before he came home. Not a lot, he
wasn
’
t mortal or anything,
but there was a slight tilt in his personality and although on the
odd occasion he still wet the bed, these had become more infrequent
the more secure he had become in our relationship. But the nights
that he had a drink, the bed wetting would be back.

The other
thing that I didn
’
t like
when he drank was his weird sex requests. We had a healthy sex life
usually, we experimented but it was always fun, when he had a drink
his demands would be verging on kinky: he wanted anal sex, he
wanted me to have anal sex with him using one our toys, he wanted
to piss on me
…
.. It went on
and on. I would make excuses not to have sex, but often they would
fall on deaf ears and I would end up having to endure his strange
urges, I would be left feeling sore and humiliated.

So our life chugged on. I was close to my
family, enjoyed my work, had nights out with my friends and for the
most part was happy with Keith. When the Company that Keith worked
for went into liquidation he was even lucky enough to secure a new
job with a communication company and bank a few quid he received in
redundancy.

He had a new
set of workmates and I saw a difference in him straightaway. All
his new colleagues were what I would call
‘
fly boys
’
always out to make a bit on money on the side.
They worked hard and they partied hard and Keith at 21 went along
for the ride. There was always something for him to invest a bit of
money in, something to buy and sell and soon our savings were
dwindling, for all the hype about how much he was going to make, I
saw very little in return.

The
‘
fly boys
’
often went straight into town for a night out
from work, and Keith the Sheep went with them. I would often think
when he didn
’
t come in for
his tea that I bet the
‘
fly
boy
’
s
didn
’
t have an altar-egos
that emerged the further down a pint they drank. I used to lie in
bed and wait until I heard his key in the lock, then I would
pretend I was asleep.

Sometimes he would wake me up and want sex,
sometimes he would just collapse into bed and fall into a coma like
sleep. I would lie there waiting for his breathing to change and
then I would get up and go and sleep on the settee. I had learnt
not to stay in the bed with him, he would only be asleep for 10
minutes or so when I would feel the warmth on my back as he pissed
the bed.

The nights
out became more and more frequent, it was exhausting but something
was changing between us and I didn
’
t know how to stop it, because not long after he started
his new job, his sober nights became an ordeal too.

We were
still as affectionate as ever with each other. I coped with the bed
wetting and even endured the strange sex request, I put it down to
the drink and thought that he would never treat me like that if he
was sober. But I was tired with it all, and for the first time
ever, when we went to bed one night and Keith wanted sex, I said
no. He huffed and turned his back to me. Please yourself I thought,
if you weren
’
t such a dick
when you were drunk I wouldn
’
t feel like this,

then turned
my back to him and went to sleep. I woke up and
couldn
’
t get my head into
gear. Keith was having sex with me, he had actually pulled up my
nightie and pushed his cock into me and was fucking me while he
thought I was asleep. I lay there motionless, I
couldn
’
t move, I
didn
’
t want me to know I was
awake because I didn
’
t know
how I felt about this.

He finished,
pulled down my nightie and rolled back away from me. Still I
couldn
’
t move. I waited
until I knew he was asleep and slipped out of our bed. I went
downstairs, put the kettle on and lit a cigarette.

My hands were shaking. I had said no to sex
but he had done it anyway when I was asleep. I felt used and dirty.
I could have been anyone in that bed, he just wanted a shag, there
was no love or affection, just him fucking a hole. I was
devastated.

The
following morning I didn
’
t
know what to say. Keith said nothing, it was as if it
didn
’
t happen.

I put the
incident mentally into a box, along with the other things I
didn
’
t want to think about
and put it into cupboard that stored anything that hurt
me.

Keith
’
s behaviour
continued to deteriorate. The nights out, the drinking, the wasting
of money. I could never quite shake off the feeling that he was up
to something, there were always plenty of girls in his circle of
workmates and I knew some of these girls went to meetings and
training courses down the country with him.

He came in
late one night from work, he had been drinking and as he brushed
past me in the kitchen I got a strong whiff of White Linen perfume.
All my doubts and insecurities came bubbling to the surface and
before I could stop myself I turned around to him and said
Keith
“
are you seeing
someone else?
“
I
didn
’
t see it coming he
cracked me across the head and as I reeled from it he grabbed me by
the arms and pinned me against the kitchen cupboards.
“
You stupid fucking
bitch
”
he said, his breath
reeked and he was spitting at me as he spoke,
“
you are fucking
mental
”
.

I slumped to
the floor as he stormed out of the kitchen and went to bed. I sat
on the floor for ages, tears pouring down my face. He
hadn
’
t particularly hurt me
it was more fright. What was happening to us?

I should
have left then, it wasn
’
t as
if it was the first time he had turned on me, but I had nowhere to
go. I couldn
’
t go to my mam
and dad
’
s, they now had an
all right relationship with Keith and I
didn
’
t want to put that into
jeopardy. I could have went to my
Granny
’
s but I
didn
’
t want to drag her into
my mess either. So I stayed. I slept on the settee again, well
slept was stretching it. I lay on the settee. I should never have
said anything, I knew he had had a drink and still I opened my
mouth. I had pushed him to do this, if I had just said nothing none
of this would have happened.

So the next morning it was same old same
old, breakfast, strip bed, washer on, dress for work and all the
time neither me or Keith mentioned what had happened, it was like
it never had. But the bruises on my arms proved it had.

To the outside world we looked like any
other young couple. I wore my smile like a mask, the actress was
back. But when the mask slipped behind closed doors I was sad,
insecure and scared, once again I was on my own. When Keith came in
drunk I kept my mouth shut, I gave in to his sex demands and on
sober nights when I said no to sex, I tolerated his night time
behaviour.

I started to
lose weight. Whenever I ate something I threw it back up and I felt
awful all of the time. I booked an appointment at the doctors and
when they asked if I was worried about anything I said that
everything was fine. The doctor thought I might have depression and
ordered some tests to eliminate any underlying cause, before I was
prescribed anything. When they called me back for the results, the
reason behind it all was shocking, I was pregnant again.

Keith and me
had never really thought about starting a family, I had gone on to
the pill shortly after we got together and though it was always
going to happen at some point, it seemed a thing we would do
sometime in the future. I was only 23 and Keith was 21 and to be
honest Keith was already the baby in the relationship and if we
were ever going to be parents I would have to wait for him to grow
up. But here I was, pregnant again, married to a man I
didn
’
t completely trust and
I was terrified. I had still continued to have periods so the
doctor recommended an early scan to determine dates and the wheels
were set in motion for midwife appointments, excitement bubbled
inside of me, but as quick as it did a wave of guilt washed over
me. How could I dare be excited and want this baby when I have
murdered my other baby all those years ago, I
didn
’
t deserve to be
happy.

I had never
told Keith about the abortion. To be honest when we first got
together I think he thought I was just short of being a virgin. I
was so afraid of the whole sex thing, shy and timid. I
didn
’
t think to tell him
anything different. So now how would I be able to tell him what I
had done? I didn
’
t have to,
I thought. So I didn
’
t.

When he got in from work that night, for
once sober, I sat him down and told him the news. He was over the
moon. He was like a child at Christmas. This is going to be all
right I thought to myself. This will settle him down and make a man
of him.

And it did, in some ways. He fussed around
me making sure that I always rested and ate properly and he helped
around the house. But when it came to scans and things he let me
down. He would always say he would meet me at the doctors or at the
hospital but he would never show up. I did it all on my own. He
always apologised afterwards saying he was stuck here or caught up
there, but it kept happening.