Page 50 of The Day Shelley Woodhouse Woke Up
‘With who?’
As soon as I’ve said it, I realise my mistake. By asking who, I am perhaps indicating that I am sleeping with someone, or so David will say. He’s a master at twisting my words and manipulating my actions.
‘I’m not sleeping with anyone,’ I say, before he can pick me up on it.
‘Well, the two of you looked pretty cosy when I came downstairs.’
I try to work out who he means. Rake over the shift. Derek, the drunk girls, Liam. In between, there were other customers. But I can’t remember anything that would have looked even remotely like flirting.
‘David, I don’t know who or what you mean.’
He takes a step towards me and I shrink back, can’t help it. This is what our marriage has come to. We are like magnets, but I am turned the other way, so he repels me.
‘Liam.’
‘Liam? Liam went on a date with Dee last night!’
‘Then why were the two of you whispering together at the bar?’
I track back over the conversation, remember Liam leaning in.
‘He leaned in to tell me that he really likes her,’ I say. ‘Dee.’
‘No.’
He says this when he doesn’t like my reasoning, when he doesn’t agree. It’s so final, the way he says it, so menacing. He takes another step.
‘David, I have to finish my shift. I have to go back down there.’
I am trying to remind him, and he’s usually so careful, but there is something different about today. Maybe he’s had longer than usual to wind himself up, or maybe he’s just reached a point of no return, but I see in his eyes that he’s not going to be stopped. He keeps coming towards me, but I stop going backwards. There’s no point. He is bigger, stronger, faster.
And then something rises up in me, some latent instinct to survive, and I change my mind. Twist around and start moving away from him, towards the door, towards the stairs. If I can make it back down to the bar, I will be safe. At least for the time being. And then perhaps I can take Dee up on her long-standing offer to stay at hers. It’s time for action. Something has to change.
I don’t make it to the stairs, though. Not before he’s caught me by the neckline of my top, ripping the fabric and pulling me around to punch me square in the face. I feel my nose crack and there’s a warm wetness on my face. Blood. I keep moving, something compelling me. And then I’m at the top of the stairs, and I see, in an instant, that I am at once closer to safety and the closest I’ve ever been to real danger. And then he pushes me.
27
NOW
I’ve never been so relieved to see someone as I am when Dee’s head appears around my curtain the next morning. Dee will fill in the gaps for me, with me. She’ll let me know where I’ve been these past few years, and then I won’t feel like I’m flailing, like I’m lost.
‘I know it’s 2024,’ I say. ‘Tell me everything.’
She wasn’t expecting that, I can see. She’s thrown, and she doesn’t say anything for a few minutes. Of course, I think, the hair. I should have known from the fact that her hair was completely different. But people get haircuts, don’t they? I have to stop blaming myself. I didn’t remember, and that’s that.
‘How?’ she asks, and it feels like she’s trying to buy time. ‘Did someone tell you?’
‘I found out. It doesn’t matter. Why has everyone been lying to me?’
‘Oh, Shell. We haven’t been lying. We’ve just been waiting for you to remember. You were so adamant that this was what you wanted.’
I start to cry. ‘It was a shock. And I was on my own, in the family waiting room. I saw the date on the news. It was terrifying, Dee. I’ve never been so scared for my own sanity.’
Dee comes in close and holds me in a hug, but it’s awkward, because she’s leaning over and I’m sitting up, so she pulls away but keeps her face close to mine. She reaches out, brushes away some tears, but they just keep coming.
‘I’m sorry,’ she says. ‘I’m sorry, Shell.’
I remember the dream, then. Out of nowhere. Dee, with a baby.
