“Toys? Like dildos?” I chuckle at the aghast expression on her pretty face.
“Sometimes, but mainly he’d cuff me or tie me up, then use paddles, whips…” I look at her, trying to gauge if this is all too much for her. She gives me a nod, and I continue. “He used a chain on me a few times. That really hurt.”
Emma seems stunned for a second, then she takes my wine glass and places them both on the coffee table, then launches herself on top of me. She squeezes me in a hug so tight, I can barely breathe.
“Fuck, babe. Why’d you stay? He sounds like a prick.” Her voice is muffled in my neck as she hugs me.
“He is a prick. But I let him. It was all consensual. By the end, I knew that without him, I had literally nobody else and nowhere to go. So, I kind of decided to take the roof over my head and food in my belly at the expense of my body. A whore, yes, but a whore on my own terms.”I can’t look at her. I can’t see the expression of pity or disgust on her face. I push her away from me and get up from the couch, moving over to the window that looks out over the high street.
Emma’s silent. So silent that I jump when she wraps her arms around me from behind to continue the hug she started on the couch. The small act of affection and support does me in completely, and I can’t stop the tears that fall. I can feel her body shaking as she cries too, her tears soaking the back of my T-shirt.
It takes us a few minutes to calm down, wipe our faces, and blow our noses before we take our seats again, emotionally exhausted. I pick up my wine and take a much-needed mouthful.
“I’m going to have a thick head in the morning, and I don’t even care,” she says as she does the same. “So then, when you left, you came here? To Coventry?”
Taking a deep breath, I tell her the rest. I tell her about Rain and how he disappeared. How he’s my only friend, and I’m worried sick about him, at which point she thumps my arm and looks at me meaningfully.
“Ow. What was that for?” I growl at her.
She simply raises her eyebrows incredulously,and I think back over my words, smiling when I realise the source of her irritation.
“He was my only friend.” She nods in satisfaction with a smug smile on her face. “I left the night after he did, jumped a few trains to try and make sure if they were following me, they lost track of where I was, and then got a new pay-as-you-go phone the next morning, just in case.”
“In case of what?”
“In case they were tracking my phone.”
“The way ye say that like it’s normal is really disconcerting, babe.”
I’d been through my old phone and checked all the folders within folders within folders, but Dominic gave me that phone, and he knows some dodgy people, so I’m not 100% sure there wasn’t another way he could be tracking me. But I’ve done the best I can, and I’ve avoided logging into any of my old email or social media accounts to err on the side of caution.
“I was running out of options when I got this job. I’m pretty sure John knew I was up shit creek without a paddle and took pity on me, given he didn’t ask me a single question about my ability to actually do the job.” We laugh.
“Aye. He’s a grumpy sod, but he’s got aheart of gold, really.”
“Hmm. Apples and trees.” I ponder, giving her a meaningful stare. They’re not father and daughter, they’re uncle and niece. But they’re family, and she’s just as big of a softy as John.
“Aye, he didnae have to look out for me when I moved out of London and didn’t want to go back to Scotland. But there was nothing for me up there after I lost my dad, and his brother was the closest family I had.”
“What about your mum?” I ask, and almost immediately regret it.
“She died when I was a bairn. Aneurysm. I don’t remember her at all.” She shrugs nonchalantly, but I find it hard to believe she feels so casual about losing her mum like that. I decide not to push, though. I know how much it hurts to think about losing those close to us.
A sharp knock on the door announces the arrival of our food, and as we eat – the best meal I’ve had in weeks – our conversation shifts to some new show on Netflix she’s obsessed with. I shake my head when she asks if I’ve seen it, and I settle into a relaxing documentary about the Yorkshire Ripper.
Four
Nash
I’m drinking a stubby bottle of beer on the back of one of my brothers’ yachts as we head out for a few hours of sailing along with our close friends, Chris and Sam. We’ve all grown up together in this small village in rural Norfolk, and despite the age differences between myself, my brothers, and the lads, we all get along great.
The weather today is crisp and clear, and despite today having been planned for months – weather dependent, obviously – I’m honestly surprised Aidan is even here. I thought he’d cry off to spend time with Rain, his new partner. He turned up only a few weeks ago, but the two of them have fallen hard and fast for each other, tothe point where they’re basically an old married couple already. When Rain arrived beaten black and blue, Aidan called me over to his house to examine him and make sure he wasn’t at immediate risk.
I’m not normally one to indulge melodramatic notions, but when I saw the damage and pain inflicted upon Rain, I understood. He’d been beaten to a pulp and sexually assaulted by his ex-boyfriend, and I can say, in full and complete truth, that said ex-boyfriend is a vicious cunt. I’m not even sure if Aidan really grasps the seriousness of the state Rain was in. His bruising was some of the worst I’ve ever seen, his ribs were fractured, and I’m honestly surprised he didn’t have renal lacerations or even rupture. He was extremely lucky in the grand scheme of things, at least physically.
Mentally, I think it’s safe to say he’ll have a lot to deal with over the next few months and years with a therapist.
We motor the yacht down the river to Fenside Broad and haul the sails up. Almost immediately, the brisk winter wind fills the main sheet, and we’re off. The wooden hull of the boat cuts through the icy water like a knife through butter. Honestly, the talent of my brothers will never cease to amaze me. I’m book smart, sure,but I could never hope to build something this beautiful and powerful with my own bare hands.
