Tom fell silent, meeting me only with his anger and bitterness. His grey eyes pierced the darkness, narrowed on me.
“I’ve been patient, Grace,” he said again, this time through gritted teeth.
“I was thinking of moving away,” I said suddenly, blurting out the words. The card from the funeral home burned like a sigil in my pocket.
“Moving away?” he asked, sounding baffled. Then he laughed, hoarse and cruel. “You’re a farmer’s wife. Your life is here, in the dale – with me.”
I bit my lip, almost piercing it enough to taste blood.
“I’m not any farmer’s wife, Tom,” I said bluntly. “And I’ve made no promises to you.”
“You’ve been promised to me since we were kids,” said Tom. “Who will you be with, then, if not me? Some bloke from London, like you were talking about with Mavis? Get your head out of the clouds, Grace. She’s filled your head with daft ideas.”
He’d heard, then. He already knew, and he’d kept his mouth shut, biding his time.
Without warning, his hands were on my waist, pulling me to him. He pressed my body against his, letting his hands roam my hips, my backside, before he riddled my neck with hot, needy kisses. I shoved him away as hard as I could, but he stayed firm, only squeezing me tighter to him.
“Get off me!” I cried. “I don’t want you, Tom! I’ve never wanted you!”
I kneed him as hard as I could in the crotch, and he let me go instantly, staggering back and coughing hoarsely as he clutched his groin.
“You nasty witch,” he choked out.
I fumbled in my purse for my key and held it in between my fingers, ready to slash him with it if necessary. But Tom coughed and spat on the ground, straightening himself. He took off his flat cap and ran a hand through his hair.
“I want you to get out of here, Tom,” I said.
“You’re grieving,” he said, placing his hands on his hips. “You’re not thinking straight now, but you will. You’ll come around.”
“I won’t, and if you come near me again –”
“I can be patient,” he said, as if he couldn’t hear me at all. As if he didn’t want to hear me; only himself, and his own selfish needs. “I’ll be round in the morning to tend the animals.”
He turned and staggered back down the path, muttering to himself, without so much as a goodbye. I didn’t wait a moment longer. I got the door open andslammed it shut, bolting it for good measure. Tom’s sudden aggression turned my stomach, and I didn’t feel safe in my home any more. The lights flickered, casting shadows over the portrait of my father’s face above the hearth. The wind howled down the chimney, like a ghostly call, that made my back stiffen with fear.
I gazed about the dilapidated house and realised with a sinking, awful feeling that I didn’t recognise it any more as home. It had become the pile of rubble where I tended to mother, and nothing more – now it was a shell, waiting for me to rot away inside it. A freezing cold chill wove its way around my body, coming in like threads through the gaps in the crumbling bricks and mortar. How long before the roof caved in?
And Tom would be back in the morning, with his persistence and his aggression and his awful tongue on my neck. Still shaking, I wondered what happened to that boy I used to know – but it didn’t matter now. Nothing mattered. I had my health, and I had some money – only a little, but enough – in an account that I could access when I got to the city.
I decided, there and then, that I was leaving.
My breaths came quickly as I rushed upstairs, throwing some of my clothes and my essentials into a tattered suitcase and a beaten leather bag. The rain and wind picked up outside as I packed, urging me on; hurrying me, before I could change my mind. A crow twitched its head in my mind’s eye, watching me curiously, as I threw my luggage together. A harrowing wail came down the chimney of my mother’s bedroom as I zipped up the suitcase. While I struggled down the stairs with it, acrashing sound came from the room with the bathtub, making me scream. Glass shattered against the stone flooring, and the wind howled throughout the house, washing me away down the stairs.
I flew from the front door like a madwoman, pulling my case behind me. As I turned, I saw a tree branch had smashed through the upstairs window, bent as it was by the wind. The cows groaned in the field beyond. They’d join Tom’s heard and forget all about me.
I ducked my head into my coat and fought my way against the wind as I struggled along the cobbled path to the main roadway, where I would take the long lane to the station. There’d be an evening train. It wasn’t too late.
I could do this. I could really do this.
Even if he slammed the door in my face. Even if the card turned to mulch in my hands and fell between my fingers, as if it never existed at all.
I was going, and I wasn’t coming back.
Chapter Two
Nicholas
Another restless night.
