‘Our son, Sarah. I’m Anthony’s father and you can’t change that. I know you’ve been seeing someone else. I’ve seen him arrive on his bicycle. That long streak of piss. He doesn’t look old enough to be a man. He’s not ready to be a father to Anthony. I’m his dad and no other man is going to take my place. Do you hear me?’
‘There’s no need to be insulting, David. You said that you would stay calm. You don’t sound calm to me. Anyway, you’re jumping to conclusions. No one is saying that Ronnie is going to replace you.’
‘Like hell he will,’ David said. The tone of his voice went up a notch.
‘You don’t want anyone else to be your da, do you, son? Come over here and give us a hug.’
With that, David lunged forward to grab Anthony. Anthony cried out, ‘Mummy.’
Sarah stood, pulled away and held Anthony close. ‘No. Stay back. Leave us alone,’ she called out.
‘You can’t stop me from holding my son,’ David shouted.
Anthony started crying. Sarah moved towards the door.
‘Where do you think you’re going?’ David shouted.
Sarah managed to reach the door. She opened it and put Anthony outside.
‘Run and knock for Sylvia,’ Sarah said. ‘Bang the door and shout until she answers.’
Anthony stood for a while, bewildered. She prayed that he could find the courage. David grabbed Sarah and threw her against the wall. She clung onto him so that he couldn’t follow Anthony. She shouted, ‘Help, help me, please,’ in the hope that someone would hear. David raised his fist and struck Sarah across the face. She felt the stinging blow as his fist tore into the delicate flesh above her eyebrow. She felt blood seep into the corner of her eye. Her heart beat rapidly in her chest and she feltterrified that he would continue to beat her until the breath was gone out of her body. He had completely lost control.
She felt two more blows to her head and tried to protect her face from his cruel hands. Her head became fuzzy and she had a ringing in her ears. Just as she felt she was losing consciousness, she heard another man’s voice. She felt David’s heavy body that had been pressing her against the wall, retreat. She lost all power in her legs and slipped down the wall onto the floor. Angry voices echoed in her head.
‘Get away from her, you coward. Evil bastard. Get out of here.’
She must have lost consciousness for when she came around, she found herself lying on Sylvia’s sofa with a blanket over her. Sylvia was holding her hand and speaking to her.
‘There, there, my dear. You’re all right now. You’re safe,’ Sylvia said, her voice calming and soothing.
‘Anthony?’ Sarah whispered.
‘Anthony’s here. He’s safe too. He’s a brave boy, your son.’
Sarah turned her head. It was John Hastings’ voice. The kindly neighbour from the upstairs flat.
‘Anthony kept knocking until I answered,’ Sylvia said. ‘It was a good thing for you that John came in from work just at the time that I found Anthony standing outside my door and an awful noise coming from across in your flat. I heard shouting and you were crying out. Poor Anthony was in tears. I took him in and John dealt with that wicked man who calls himself your husband. Any man who attacks a woman like that doesn’t deserve to have a lovely wife like you.’
‘Mummy,’ Anthony said and came to throw his arms around Sarah.
‘My brave boy,’ Sarah said and held him close.
* * *
Ronnie arrived at Sarah’s rooms later than usual the next day, Saturday. There was a biting wind and the sun was hidden from view, quite different to the previous day. The long, cold cycle ride from Whippingham had left him chilled through. Ronnie pushed his bicycle inside the main entrance and knocked on Sarah’s door. No answer. He knocked again, harder this time. Still no answer. Where could she have gone in this weather? A door opened behind him and Sylvia’s voice made him turn around.
‘They’re in here. Come and see what he’s done to her now,’ Sylvia said.
Ronnie saw Sarah, sitting in an armchair with Anthony on her knee. The boy wriggled away from his mother and rushed towards Ronnie. Ronnie lifted him up, and the boy threw his arms around Ronnie’s neck and sobbed.
He hugged the child to his chest and looked across at Sarah, whose head was still bowed down. He placed Anthony gently beside Sylvia, who took the little boy’s hand and guided him towards the kitchen with the promise of a biscuit. Ronnie moved cautiously towards Sarah.
He knelt down beside her and took both her hands in his. They stayed in that position for a while, without speaking. Eventually, he withdrew one hand, put the other under her chin and lifted her head very gently. He had to restrain the gasp that threatened to erupt from his lips.
Sarah had a deep cut across her eyebrow and although the blood had been stemmed, he could see that she had been hit with some force. There was redness around her right eye, which was partially closed. There were red marks on her neck. She didn’t say a word.
‘When did he do this?’ Ronnie asked.
