Read Somewhere Only We Know ....... Online
Authors: Leanne Burn
Tags: #life, #sex, #life story, #romance sex, #soundtrack to your life, #romance adult erotic
My life
settled back into routine. If anyone noticed the faded bruises they
didn
’
t say anything and for
that I was grateful.
The family
still fussed and everyday one of them popped to see me. Karen rang
and called regularly and I started to relax and breathe again. I
decorated the house. It was maybe a bit of a pointless task but it
was therapeutic for me and even if I
didn
’
t stay there much
longer it would save Karen
’
s
family the job. I still hadn
’
t decided what I was going to do about a home for me and
the kids. A phone call one Friday afternoon decided it for
me.
Keith rang me at work. It was the first time
I had heard his voice for weeks and my stomach dropped when I heard
it. He asked how me and the kids were, he had made no effort to see
them since the Sunday of the plants and I thought that that was why
he was ringing me now.
“
I
’
m moving away
Caz
”
he went on
“
do you want the
house?
”
“
Yes
”
I stammered
back into the phone.
“
Good good, well I need some
money to start up again, I can
’
t leave with nothing, so if you give me £5,000
I
’
ll get my name taken off
the mortgage and the house is all
yours
”
.
“
I
’
ll see what I can do, but you know I
haven
’
t got any
money
”
I said in
reply.
“
Well hurry up and
make your mind up otherwise we
’
ll have to put it on the
market
”
. He rang
off.
On the way
back from the child-minders I called at my mam and
dad
’
s and told them what had
happened.
“
Well at least you
know he is going
”
my dad
said.
“
And
it
’
s your home,
you
’
ve done a good job with
what you are in now, but that
’
s a nice little house you bought
isn
’
t it? Look, me and your
mam have a bit saved, we
’
ll
lend you the £5,000 until you are back on your
feet
”
. My mam agreed.
“
And to be honest there
wouldn
’
t be a lot of profit
in the house if you did sell it and then there would be all the
legal costs
”
. It all made
sense. I picked up the phone and left Keith a message on his home
phone.
When he
called me back later that night, he was smug. I was buying him out
of my own house and he was laughing, where was the Keith I had met?
This wasn
’
t him, he
shouldn
’
t have wanted a
anything off me, this house was going to be his
children
’
s home and since I
had left he hadn
’
t even
bothered giving me a penny.
We arranged that I would get the house back
at the end of the month, 2 weeks away. I called Karen and told her
the news, she said she would let the family know, her Auntie Maude
would need long term around the clock care so the house was being
sold to pay for it. I told her to thank the family, I had only been
there a matter of months but it had been a huge help to me and the
kids.
This time on
moving day I wasn
’
t on my
own. I took the kids to my Granny
’
s where her and one of my cousins would look after them
until I was back in the old house and sorted. My mam, dad, Karen
and Dave helped move all the bags and boxes along to the other end
of the village.
Keith had
called the night before to give me the keys. He said the house was
tidy but not up to my standard of course and that when he was
settled he would send me his address. As soon as I handed over the
envelope with the money in he was off, he
hadn
’
t even bothered coming
in to see the kids.
The house
was a tip when we let ourselves in the next day. It smelt to the
high heavens, that old smell I remembered so well from the flat,
piss soaked. He hadn
’
t
hoovered and there was a thick layer of dust everywhere. My mam
snorted but said nothing. There
wasn
’
t anything a bit of
elbow grease wouldn
’
t put
right.
That night, when the kids were back in their
rooms, I roamed the house. There were memories everywhere, some
good some not so, but this was our home now so I was going to have
to put the demons to bed. The whole place looked shabby, just like
me I thought, but a
lick of paint would do the trick, and maybe
get the carpets cleaned. As I locked up that night I felt happy,
this was a new beginning for us and I intended to give the house
lots of good memories to store in its old thick walls.
When a
letter from the mortgage company arrived a few days later alarms
bells started ringing. The mortgage was in arrears by 3 months and
it looked as though Keith hadn
’
t taken his name off the deeds. After a sleepless night, a
phone call confirmed my worst fears. There was arrears of over £500
plus the next payment was due in a matter of days. I asked them if
they could bear with me until I had sorted everything out and they
said I had one month and then if a recovery plan
wasn
’
t in place they would
have to take further action.
I rang Keith
at his work. He no longer worked there and they had no forwarding
information. I felt ill. When I got home that night I pulled out
all of the other bills for the house, gas, electric, telephone.
None of them had been paid. I didn
’
t know what to do. I rang my bank. I had already opened an
account in my name for my wages to be paid into, I explained the
situation and although they were sympathetic they
didn
’
t hold out much hope of
me getting a loan to cover all of the arrears.
I had only
just moved back into our home and already I was losing it. How
could Keith have done this to us? For the next few days I fretted
and fretted. I thought about going to see my Granny, but I
wasn
’
t her only grandchild
and if she did it for me then she would have to do it for the rest
of them too. I didn
’
t want
to ask my mam and dad, they had already paid Keith off for me, so I
continued to fret, hoping that something would magic out of thin
air. I couldn
’
t eat and
I
couldn
’
t
sleep.
When the
bank rang me at work I almost collapsed. They said that they had
put my loan to the underwriters and they had decided that they
would be able to help me. If I went into the branch and signed the
documentation I would have the funds in my account straight away. I
took the rest of the day off work and did just that. When I got
home I wrote cheques out for all of the outstanding amounts, there
would be a small amount left over to keep in my account and God was
I going to need it. Mortgage, bills, loan repayment and
child-minder fees. I would be lucky if I had a spare penny at the
end of the month never mind a few pounds. But the house was
mine.
Keith
hadn
’
t taken his name off
but the mortgage company were aware of when I had left the house
and when he did so if he did decide to come back and try to take
the house off me, he wouldn
’
t have a leg to stand on.
Over the
following weeks I still didn
’
t feel any better. My eating was poor and I was light
headed and tired. I woke up in the middle of the night one night in
a cold sweat. I can
’
t
remember if I had had a nightmare but as I lay there in the
darkness a sudden thought hit me.
I
hadn
’
t had a period for
months. I put it down to the stress I was under, but the light
headedness, lack of appetite and when I thought about it I had been
nauseous, this all spelt out one thing. I was pregnant. Not
Michael, we had been careful. Keith. In all that violence and hate
and fear I had got pregnant. I didn
’
t stop the tears as I lay in the darkness. What the fuck
was I going to do?
The next day went by in a daze. I needed to
be sure I was pregnant, so I detoured to the supermarket on the way
home and bought a home pregnancy kit, swerving the small chemist in
the village where the purchase of a pregnancy kit would send the
local gossips into amber alert.
It
wasn
’
t until the kids were
tucked up in bed that I got chance to do it. I had deliberately not
had a wee for hours and decided that I would wee into a pot and use
both tests if need be.
The little
window showed 2 little pink lines immediately.
“
Fuck, fuck,
fuck
”
I thought to myself.
Test number 2 - same outcome. I sat on the toilet in the bathroom
with the little sticks covered in wee and rocked. I rocked and
rocked and when I couldn
’
t
think of what else to do. I rocked some more.
This
wasn
’
t happening. I
didn
’
t want this this and
the thought that I didn
’
t
shook me. All my pregnancies had been a surprise, but I had never
once thought that I didn
’
t
want them. Even the one long ago when I had been so young and I
didn
’
t have the guts to
stand up and say what I wanted. I had wanted all of them. This was
different. I didn
’
t want
this thing. I didn
’
t want
Keith
’
s thing. How it had
been conceived put paid to that. I felt like I had a monster
growing inside me and the longer it stayed there, the bigger it
would get and in the end it would kill me.
I shuddered.
Pulling up my knickers and jeans, I gathered up the evidence of the
monster
’
s existence, took it
downstairs and threw it in the bin.
“
Tomorrow I would make plans to
sort it, the quicker the better
”
. I opened the fridge door and did something I never did, I
poured myself a huge glass of wine.
At the
doctors a couple of days later, I was back into
3
rd
person mode. I spoke in clipped tones, saying I knew I was
pregnant, didn
’
t want it and
wanted to arrange a termination. I produced another pot of wee and
waited patiently as the doctor did the test. When he confirmed what
I already knew, he asked if I wanted some time to think about it, I
replied as politely as I could, that no, I
didn
’
t need time I just
wanted it over. If he was shocked at my non-plussed attitude he
didn
’
t show it.
He asked me
to go back
into the waiting room while he
made a phone call.
On my return
into his surgery, he gave me a slip of paper. It had an appointment
date and time on.
“
Caroline,
I have known you a long time, I saw you through your last 2
pregnancies and I saw you a few months ago when you needed time off
work. I would never recommend that you went through with this
pregnancy if it was not what you wanted. What I am asking you is to
talk to someone. A counsellor, a friend, your family. You
don
’
t have much time. From
the dates you have given me I think that you are already about 10
weeks pregnant. But please don
’
t do something in anger that you may well regret
later.
”
I was
shocked, Dr Mayer had always seemed so aloof and professional,
uncaring even.
“
Okay, I
will
”
I said, but I
wouldn
’
t. I needed the
monster out and Dr Mayer had just taken me another step nearer to
that happening.
Life went on
as normal around me. I went to work, but
wasn
’
t really there. I
looked after the kids, but wasn
’
t really with them. I saw my Granny, mam and dad, but
didn
’
t hear a word they
said. I was on automatic pilot. I counted the days down to my
hospital appointment, I needed an assessment first and then they
would give me a date for
‘
monster removal
’
.