Escape From Evil - Cathy Wilson [99]
The only good news I could draw from my situation was that Daniel was a lot younger than I had been when I’d witnessed the attacks and bullying against my mother. He was barely two. I prayed they wouldn’t scar him, as I was scarred seeing her being set alight and raped in front of my eyes.
Sexually, at least, Peter had left me alone since we’d arrived in Bathgate. In fact, we had barely had sex at all since I’d started to show at around three months pregnant. A year ago it had really bothered me. A woman wants to feel desired by her partner. I’d struggled to shift the four-stone pregnancy fat and I blamed that for his lack of interest.
Now, though, I was grateful. I couldn’t imagine anything worse than him touching me. Ironically, I too found myself using Daniel as a means to an end. Focusing on his poor sleeping, I would take Daniel up to bed around half seven, read him a story and do my darndest to fall asleep on his little single bed. The way I saw it, Peter loathed child noise so much he’d never rouse me if I was in Daniel’s room, in case he set the crying off. My son, unwittingly, was protecting me, like a car alarm or, I was sad to appreciate, a human shield. Even though there was no danger to him, I felt bad using him like that. But it worked. I was amazed how often I got away with that, actually. By the time I’d emerge, it would be morning and Peter wouldn’t be surfacing for a couple of hours.
I thought I was being so clever, making sure I wasn’t available for sex at night. I assumed Peter didn’t have the appetite of a younger man, so all I had to do was keep out of his way. I was wrong. There was nothing wrong with Peter’s libido. He was just saving it for someone else.
One night I put Daniel to bed and did my usual thing of snuggling up next to him. Usually I’d sleep through the night. On this occasion, I woke. My head felt incredibly cloudy, but I could hear voices downstairs, so I went to investigate. Peter was there with a woman, a slim, young blonde. She was dressed casually, in jeans, trainers and a sports top, but I knew this wasn’t right.
‘Who’s she?’ I asked him.
‘This is Lisa.’
That didn’t help much.
‘What’s she doing here? It’s late.’
Peter glared at me. ‘That’s none of your business. Fuck off back to bed.’
I did as I was told, but instead of going to our bed I made my way back to Daniel’s room. I was struggling to keep my eyes open, but it seemed important that I stay awake. Ten minutes later I was sure I heard two sets of footsteps making their way up the stairs. It was hard to tell. I felt as if my ears were packed with cotton wool. It was very disconcerting, but not as disconcerting as picking up the unmistakeable noises of Peter having sex – and a woman screaming.
I didn’t dare investigate. I put a pillow over my ears and desperately hoped that Daniel wouldn’t wake up. Then I closed my eyes and gave in to the unusually powerful urge to sleep.
The next morning Lisa was gone and Peter didn’t mention anything. A few nights later the same thing happened, except this time Lisa arrived before I’d put Daniel down. I felt a lot more alert than I had the last time I’d seen her. Ignoring the risk, as soon as Peter went to the toilet, I said, in no uncertain terms, that she wasn’t welcome in my house.
The girl shrugged. ‘Not up to you, is it? You’re not the one paying me.’
Paying her? What for?
Then Peter returned and told me to get rid of Daniel and come back. I said I wouldn’t.
‘All right, the kid can stay as well.’
I was out of there before he’d finished speaking. When I finally made my way back downstairs, I froze in the doorway. They were already having sex. Peter saw me. ‘Come in and watch. You might learn something.’
Typical of him, the bastard. I tried not to look at the vicious way he was smacking the girl’s back and bottom with every thrust into her or pulling her hair and making her scream with pinches and arm-twists. She was squealing like a cornered