In Jeopardy (17 page)

‘Tell me.’

Lucy found herself in much the same predicament that you are in. She continued to drip feed me details about her life.

I was away on foreign correspondence and hadn’t seen Lucy for about a year. Tired and on a break from a challenging spell of work, I met her for lunch. She didn’t need to announce her news. I didn’t know what to say. Did I congratulate her? She announced the baby was due in weeks, but didn’t appear excited, almost making excuses about her circumstances. She said Harry was looking forward to being a parent. He wanted to find out the child’s gender and when he found out they were expecting a son, he named him Troy.

From this point I saw less of Lucy, spending more time with colleagues and friends.

I started seeing a divorced woman with an eighteen year-old son. Janet’s son moved to Canada to live with his father. He wanted to complete secondary school there and planned to study either in Canada or the U.S. Since becoming free from being the main carer of her son, Janet became a foreign correspondent. The relationship developed when we continued to find ourselves often either working alongside each other, crossing paths locally or abroad.

It was impractical to extend our relationship into a live-in arrangement. I had adapted to living alone and spent less time at home. Janet had her own place on the northern edge of London, further from the city centre than where I lived. We often travelled to the city by train to meet. She stayed at my place rather than returning home by train or taxi. Following mornings we would go to a movie or some other activity. This arrangement weaved itself seamlessly into my life. Neither of us sought a relationship with greater commitment nor did we discuss plans about a permanent future together.

You might think I’m hedonistic and selfish. I hadn’t reached the state of being single and contented until long after Lucy left. Janet’s company was easy to wear. I lived every day as it came. When we met again the relationship picked up where it had left off without a hiccup. I had no expectation of a future with Janet and she never expressed any thoughts of this to me. At times we didn’t see each other for several weeks as she travelled to Canada to see her son during school vacation. Alternatively, he returned to London and she spent time exclusively with him.

Meanwhile, Lucy continued to maintain a façade about her life with Harry. Troy was almost one when Lucy returned to work part-time.

She knew I worked with Janet, who was often sent to cover an angle on a project I was assigned to. She didn’t ask questions. I guessed at the time that Lucy understood the nature of my work abroad, the dangers some places involved. She must have assumed I was strategically teamed up with Janet to offer protection.

The cracks in Lucy’s marriage multiplied and enlarged to the point where it was only a matter of time before she could no longer contain her misery. She couldn’t keep the fireworks in her relationship with Harry locked away behind a closed door indefinitely.

I continued to enquire about her and Harry’s wellbeing. I was tempted, but I refrained from asking, if Harry’s musical genius had been recognised or if he was on the cusp of fame after being scouted by a famous band or producer. However, I wasn’t prepared for the day when I mentioned Harry’s name
and Lucy threw me a hard and bitter look, one I hadn’t seen before, followed by a bitter exclamation that she never wanted to see him again and questioning what possessed her to have anything to do with him at all.

I didn’t know where to look and spoke without thinking when I should have said nothing. ‘Surely you’re not serious?’

The tone of her voice was laced with venom: ‘Absolutely serious.’

Despite her absence of words another look of bitterness spread over her face, her eyes narrowed then gave way to an expression of malicious intent. This was an angle of Lucy’s personality I hadn’t seen. She created an awkward silence and I couldn’t look her in the eye when I spoke. ‘What happened? Whatever has been said will blow over.’

She spat the words out, slowly and deliberately. ‘You have no idea what happens in that hell house, what my life has become.’

Again I spoke without thinking and felt the awkwardness of my words. ‘I don’t wish to pry. Only tell me what you want me to know.’

Her composure gave way to an incoherent babble of tears. Troy’s eyes wore a wide-eyed unfocused look, his mouth was downturned. He was subdued, perhaps in shock.

Lucy dropped her face into her hands.

What she revealed was almost beyond comprehension. I wasn’t so naïve that I was ignorant of the day to day reality for many people. Despite her appearance of innocence and fragility, she was no fool.

I wanted to remove Lucy from the attention her distressed state was attracting. I paid for the coffees then we left. As the weather was mild we relocated to a park that fortunately had children’s play equipment. The worst of Lucy’s raw emotions blew over, followed by silence and few words spoken
while Troy played and climbed. As we walked through the park Lucy found her voice and described the nightmare she had been living with Harry.

Months after their marriage she regretted her decision and chastised herself for being foolish. Rather than leave, she put this mistake down to experience, resigned that she would stay and live with the consequences. She talked herself into believing the situation would improve, didn’t want to abandon the relationship then later regret that she didn’t give it the best chance.

Warning bells continued to sound. One evening when he returned home from an alcohol-fuelled binge after the band played a gig, she was assaulted with another Harry episode. She believed that he didn’t take drugs or wind up hopelessly drunk, but that night he was under the influence of something. He was aggressive towards her. She wondered how much of the evening he would remember and how he managed to return home. He taunted her then thrust his face at her.
What the f—k does it matter?
When she insisted on an explanation he threw her a sinister grin.
You really want to know? Baby – where would you like me to start?

When she asked how he managed to decorate his neck and chest with interesting marks, his cruel laugh laced with stale beer washed over her.
Do you really want to know?
He didn’t wait for her answer before he recounted every sordid detail. Weeks later she was diagnosed with a sexually-transmitted disease. When she confronted Harry with this information he shrugged,
That’s life sweetheart.

She said, ‘Despite his actions, he always says sorry, begs my forgiveness.’ She paused and had this faraway look.

She gained a reasonable settlement, was able to buy her own place and move away from the shadow Harry had cast over her life and all that she endured in that house.

‘He must be Richard’s double.’ Christine pauses. ‘Only – Richard is too meticulous to let anything like that happen.’

‘Despite Harry having a respectable profession and a family, he’s nothing more than a waste of space. He thought he would be a big star until it was too late.’

‘I don’t know what’s worse, the way Harry treated Lucy or the way Richard expected me to switch from being the society wife to the bedroom slut.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘It wasn’t simply a fetish for Richard, he made his expectations clear. Can you believe he wanted me to pierce my nipples like some eighteen year old?’

I snort derisively.

‘But wait – there’s more. He wanted me to put a ring through my clitoris.’

My eyes widen in horror. I shake my head in disgust. ‘Richard’s been watching too many porn videos – it’s a wonder he didn’t want to put you in handcuffs.’

She laughs. ‘That’s not the half of it. Richard likes dress-ups. He wanted me in a school girl’s outfit, gothic vinyl. And wait for it – accompanying him to special parties in an assortment of crotchless, bare-breasted outfits – he particularly likes Catwoman with her tits hanging out and showing a smoothly shaved twat.’

‘You are my sister – this is too much information.’

She laughs. ‘You did ask.’

‘Perhaps it was just as well he had an assortment of girlfriends he could try this out on. Obviously his job isn’t that taxing if he’s got time for all of this. You’re well away from this sis.’

‘Your situation is like Lucy’s. She struggled to get out of a mess she blames herself for.’

Christine is surprised at how accurately Julian has read her thoughts.

‘You push away people who want to help. Like Lucy, you want to fix everything yourself.’

‘I’ve accepted your kindness.’

‘That’s good news.’
She’s got the same stubborn pride as Lucy.

Julian claps his hands together. ‘That’s settled. Now speaking of solicitors – it’s been over a week since you’ve heard from Thornton.’

‘No news since that encounter with Richard.’

He fixes a puzzled look on her. ‘I think Thornton needs a bit of a push.’

‘It’s not Thornton. I’ve been distracted by the hospital and our accommodation arrangements.’

‘For now, I want you to stop worrying about finding a place. There is somewhere around the corner waiting for you.’

‘Tomorrow my shift doesn’t begin till late afternoon. We can start looking again in the morning.’

‘I’ve got a better suggestion. Why don’t you contact your solicitor and make that appointment to see him. Let’s find out where things stand; what progress he’s made, or lack of.’

Julian insists on accompanying Christine to Thornton’s office. She braces herself, dreading what she is about to hear.

Thornton’s words replay in her mind.
I’m convinced your estranged husband has withheld information about your shared assets. It’s possible he’s in debt and appears wealthier than he is. If this is the case – his debt is your debt.

She worries that she could be staring into a black pit as she waits for a miserable settlement that may only cover her legal costs.

Thornton appears without her noticing him before he interrupts her thoughts. ‘Christine – I see you’ve got a new boyfriend? You’ve wasted no time getting your life back on track.’ He gives her the thumbs up.

‘It’s never a good idea to jump to conclusions mate.’ Christine notices that Julian has suddenly lost any trace of his English accent. He offers Thornton his hand, they shake. ‘I’m Julian Francis, Christine’s brother.’

‘Christine said she has a brother who lives abroad.’

‘I was working on a media project here and have extended my stay to keep an eye on Christine.’ He adds with emphasis, ‘I’m looking after her interests.’

‘And you’re here to check on me?’

‘You could say that.’

He ushers them towards his office with the sweep of a hand. ‘This way, guys.’

Thornton offers them tea, coffee or chilled water. ‘Christine, you look worried – a contrast to how you were the last time we met.’

Her eyes widen with interest.

‘I was impressed by your composure as I watched how you managed pathetic Mr Banks.’

‘I’ve spent ten years dealing with those tantrums.’

‘I call it abuse.’ Thornton turns to Julian. ‘I was impressed by how your sister stood up to Banks. He’s probably still reeling at how we watched him make an ass of himself. I’ve made claims about his threats of violence.’

‘What claims?’

‘I recorded the conversation before entering the room.’ He adds that recorded evidence is inadmissible and a violation against a person.

What the f—k – you what?
Julian fixes a hard look on Thornton.

‘Don’t worry I won’t be informing Banks’ solicitor about this.’

‘Why – then – did you tape a conversation you can’t use as evidence?’

‘I’ve played and replayed that conversation. His threats, his menacing tone; no wonder she walked. I have the man’s measure and this makes all the difference.’ Thornton advises Christine to allow him to present a sworn affidavit that he witnessed her estranged husband threaten violence. He further advises her to press charges.

Christine looks at Thornton in disbelief. ‘He didn’t strike me.’

‘He pushed you – shoved you, and that’s assault.’

Julian turns to Christine. ‘You didn’t tell me that!’

She shrugs.

Julian thinks,
what else haven’t I been told?

At the same time Christine recalls treating scores of battered women who presented bruised, bleeding and broken. She armed these women with paperwork detailing safe places for them to go, yet most of them return to these men and the abuse they continue to inflict on their victims. Many
of the casualties are women on high incomes and without children. Until now Christine hadn’t considered herself a statistic.

Thornton clears his throat, interrupting the awkward silence, ‘Are you with us Christine? He’s committed criminal offences against you.’

‘I don’t understand how you’re going to make this claim stick.’

‘I’m suggesting that you obtain a restraining order against Banks. He threated to confront you at the hospital and stalk you. This alone is sufficient grounds.’

‘Why didn’t you advise me to take this action sooner?’

‘I wanted to have more facts at my disposal. With your permission I will inform Banks’ solicitor about what happened.’

Thornton tells Christine that she can press criminal charges at any time. He sums up Richard’s behaviour as little more than hot air and that he is astute enough to avoid carrying out his threats. ‘It is likely that he expects the scene at the house has blown over, and has avoided mentioning it. I consulted a senior partner for advice and he agrees we inform Banks’ solicitor that you intend to press criminal charges against him. We can also offer them the alternative that you won’t press charges if your estranged husband agrees to your claim of seventy-five per cent of shared assets.’

‘I can’t imagine him agreeing to these terms.’

‘Isn’t that blackmail?’

‘Yes – it’s blackmail. Of course I wouldn’t be fool enough to put this in writing – it would be done over the phone.’

‘That’s unethical?’

‘If you’re too nice in this business you get screwed. My advice hinges on how to best look after my client.’ He pauses then shifts his gaze to Christine. ‘I don’t expect Banks will agree to a seventy-five per cent claim, but you always ask for more than you expect.’