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Authors: Elizabeth Moss

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BOOK: Don't Hurt Me
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Since it was a Saturday afternoon,
the streets of Truro were packed with shoppers. As they struggled back to the
car park, Victoria suddenly gave a shout of recognition and pushed sidelong
through the crowds to a group of teenagers, sheltering from the wind on the
steps of a snooker club. After a hurried conversation, she dragged Julia
towards them, presenting her to a boy of about sixteen with mischievous blue
eyes and spiky blond hair.

  
‘This is Chris from my school,’ she
said shyly.

  
Julia shook his hand, smiling
warmly. ‘Nice to meet you at last, Chris. I hear you’re quite a good dancer.’

  
The fair-haired boy shrugged,
colouring slightly at the compliment as the other kids jeered and shoved him.
He glanced sideways at Victoria, a secret message seeming to pass between them.
‘There’s a travelling fairground at Treliske this weekend. We’re just heading
up there on the bus. Do you want to come too?’

  
Biting her lip, Vicky looked back
over her shoulder at Julia. Her eyes pleaded. ‘May I?’

  
She hesitated, not wanting to seem
like a spoilsport but a little uncertain that Marshall would approve. She did
not see any harm in the suggestion though, as long as things did not get out of
control. While they were out together, the girl was her responsibility. For a
moment, she even considered phoning Marshall to ask his permission.

  
Then a tide of rebellion rose
inside her and she gritted her teeth, deciding not to bother. She was
Victoria’s step-mother now, she reminded herself darkly. That must surely give
her the right to make a simple decision like this without having to involve
Marshall.

  
‘Okay,’ Julia agreed. ‘But I’ll
take you there in the car and we can go to the fair together. It is my
birthday, after all.’

  
Victoria grinned. ‘Great.’

  
The other kids trailed off to the
bus station, apparently preferring to stick together. Chris and Victoria came
with her in the car, sitting in the back seat, holding hands and whispering all
the way. Driving up the crowded hill road towards Treliske, Julia glanced in
the rear view mirror and saw them exchange a brief furtive kiss. She smiled to
herself, her grim mood falling abruptly away. The wind seemed to have died down
and even the sun felt hotter on her back as they parked and walked back to the
fairground.

  
Wandering through the fair, the two
teenagers soon found their school friends again and stood in a huddle with
them, discussing where they should go first. Victoria seemed delighted by their
sudden change in plans, hanging onto Chris’s shoulder and gazing about herself
with excited eyes. There was a brightly-coloured Ferris wheel at the entrance
to the fair, dodgem cars, a ghost train, stalls offering goldfish as prizes,
and a hall of mirrors. For Victoria, this was definitely a more interesting way
to spend a Saturday evening than sitting curled up on the sofa alone, watching television.

  
Julia glanced at her watch,
frowning at how quickly time had passed. ‘We ought to let your father know that
we’ll be home late,’ she murmured to Victoria. ‘He might worry otherwise.’

  
‘I’ll text him,’ Vicky nodded,
pulling her mobile phone out of her shoulder bag and promptly keying in the
message. ‘There, that’s done. Come on, Chris. Shall we try the dodgems first?’

  
He looked at her teasingly. ‘Girls
against boys?’

  
‘Why not?’ Vicky laughed.

  
Julia shook her head, protesting
noisily at suddenly finding herself being dragged towards the dodgems by an
enthusiastic Victoria. ‘Oh no, not this,’ she wailed as the girl pushed her
into the cramped seat of a battered red dodgem. ‘I hate these things. Honestly,
I’d be much happier just watching.’

  
Climbing behind the steering wheel
of a black dodgem in rather better condition than theirs, Chris and his
short-haired friend waved their fists in mock defiance. Then the bell rang and
their car lurched under the accelerator pedal, jerking Julia forwards, hair
swinging wildly across her face. She gripped the side of the car for support,
shrieking first with laughter and then alarm as Chris appeared out of nowhere
and rammed them broadside.

  
‘First blood to us!’ he yelled
triumphantly, spinning his car away into the melee.

  
Victoria put her foot down and gave
chase, her face determined, and soon caught up with the boys’ car. The black
dodgem shot forward as she bumped it violently from behind. She howled with
delight, ramming them again and again while the boys tried in vain to turn out
of her path, groaning at each impact.

  
‘Give up yet?’ she shouted after
them, that steely glint in the girl’s eyes reminiscent of Marshall’s own
persistence.

  
It was almost dark by the time they
staggered back to the car from the still humming fairground, laden with soft
toys Chris had gallantly won for them both and a goldfish in a small plastic
bag of water which Victoria held gingerly aloft as she climbed into the front
seat.

  
‘I’m going to call him Rascal,’ she
announced sleepily to no one in particular. ‘He can live in my bedroom next to
my spider plant.’

  
Dropping Chris off at his parent’s
bungalow on the outskirts of Bodmin, they drove back along the dark winding
lanes towards Moor’s Peak. The CD player in the car was switched on and they
listened in easy silence to a compilation of soft rock ballads from the
eighties and nineties. The music reminded Julia of her own teenage years, those
first painful relationships with their ecstatic highs and lows. She smiled to
herself in the darkness. If only things could have remained that simple, she
thought wryly, turning onto the drive which led up to Moor’s Peak. Now her life
was so much more complex, a place of compromise and unexpected problems where
every solution only seemed to bring fresh complications.

  
Pulling up outside the front steps,
Julia was startled to find the door already open. Coming out of the shadows in
a dark shirt and black jeans, Marshall approached the car in quick angry
strides, the dark brows frowning heavily.

  
‘Where the hell have you been? I’ve
been half out of my mind, wondering what could have happened to you both.’

  
She stared up at him, her face
draining of colour. ‘We went to a fair with some of Vicky’s school friends. I
thought she texted you to let you know we’d be back late.’

  
His mouth was a grim line. ‘I
haven’t checked my mobile all day. Why on earth didn’t you think to ring me on
the landline, speak to me in person?’

  
Still holding the goldfish, now
swimming frantically round and round its plastic bag, Victoria came round the
car towards them both. Her voice was high with indignation. ‘There’s no need to
shout at her like that, Dad. We were just having fun. It is Julia’s birthday,
after all. Not that you could be bothered to remember!’

  
‘Of course I remembered,’ he said
harshly and turned back to face Julia, his eyes flicking with distaste over her
newly cut hair with its rich copper highlights. ‘I had a table booked at
Antonio’s for eight o’clock. When you didn’t come back, I had to ring and cancel.’

  
Julia wanted to believe him, she
really did. But looking up into that unsmiling face, all she could hear was
Sasha’s malicious voice in her ear. No doubt he had rung his mistress back by
now, confirmed his plans to see her again soon. Meanwhile, like some
irresponsible child, she was being told off for staying out after dark. Had he
seriously expected her to stay at home on her birthday, playing the dutiful
wife while he enjoyed himself with another woman?

  
‘I had no idea,’ she said. ‘You
didn’t tell me.’

  
‘It was supposed to be a surprise,’
he grated, then spun on his heel and strode back into the house without another
word.

  
Her chin raised defiantly, Julia
watched him disappear through the front door, not entirely sure what to think.
‘It never occurred to me that he might be planning some sort of surprise,’ she
muttered, glancing sideways at Victoria. ‘I’m not psychic, what was I supposed
to think? He didn’t even wish me happy birthday this morning.’

  
Victoria slipped a reassuring arm
through hers. ‘Look, don’t get too worked up about it. He won’t be angry
forever,’ she said with unexpected
 
wisdom. ‘He’s got a temper, but he loves you, remember?’

  
The inaccuracy of that comment
nearly made her laugh out loud. Yet somehow she managed to control her reaction.
It would only upset the girl and make things a hundred times worse for her to
realise how shaky her father’s marriage had become.

  
They found Marshall in the kitchen,
standing over the table with his sleeves rolled up, pouring himself a whisky.
The dark head turned as they came in, his gaze moving over their armfuls of
absurd soft toys and shopping bags. Then he frowned at his daughter, his eyes
narrowing on the goldfish. ‘What the hell are you doing with that fish?’

  
‘Oh, I won him at the fair,’ Victoria
replied blithely, rummaging through the kitchen cupboards and emerging with a
large mixing bowl. ‘I’m going to put him in this until I can get a proper tank.
His name’s Rascal. He’s cute, isn’t he?’

  
‘Lovely,’ he said thickly, not
looking in her direction but staring at Julia instead over the rim of his
whisky glass.

  
Apparently oblivious to his mood,
Victoria twirled about, showing off her neatly trimmed shoulder-length hair.
‘What do you think? Is it okay for school? We went to the hairdressers together
and Julia had copper highlights done.’

  
‘So I see.’

  
Her face becoming flushed, Julia
turned to the teenager, helping her carry some of the shopping bags to the
bottom of the stairs. Even though it was unlikely he would be able to hear what
they were saying, she kept her voice to a whisper. ‘I think you ought to go up
to bed early tonight. Do you mind? Your father and I need to talk.’

  
‘You sure you’ll be okay on your
own?’

  
‘Of course.’ She kissed Victoria
goodnight with real affection. ‘Don’t worry. I can handle him.’

  
By the time she returned, Marshall
had vanished along the hall into his study, taking the whisky bottle with him.
Steeling herself to face another inevitable rejection, she followed him. He was
slumped on the ox-blood leather Chesterfield, long legs stretched out in front
of him, staring at the cold ashes in the hearth almost as though expecting them
to burst spontaneously into flame.

  
When she walked into the room,
Marshall glanced up at her briefly, then turned back to his contemplation of
the unlit fireplace, the glass of whisky in his hand tilting at a dangerous
angle. ‘So,’ he drawled contemptuously. ‘Who is it you’re seeing? Richard
again? Or have you found yourself a new victim?’

  
‘What are you talking about?’

  
His eyes flicked to the rich copper
tones in her hair. ‘You look very sexy, as I’m sure you’re aware. But it’s
hardly for my benefit, is it?’

  
Anger flashed through her as she
belatedly realised what Marshall was insinuating. How dared he suggest she was
having an affair behind his back? He was the unfaithful one in this marriage,
not her.

  
‘It’s my birthday,’ she reminded
him with icy emphasis. ‘I had my hair done as a present to myself. There was no
hidden agenda.’

  
He looked up then and his eyes met
hers, suddenly furious. There was a savagery in his voice that frightened her.
‘Do you really expect me to believe that, Julia?’

  
‘I don’t care if you believe me or
not.’

  
‘No,’ he agreed harshly. ‘I’m sure
you don’t.’

  
She realised her hands were shaking
and turned away so that he could not see them, staring out of the windows at
the empty blackness that was the moor. The winds seemed to have risen again,
howling at the thick walls of Moor’s Peak like a pack of wolves. She reached up
and drew the curtains firmly shut. There was an answering wildness in her own
heart that night which she dared not acknowledge.

  
What on earth had made her think
she could survive in such a
 
desolate spot, so distant from her husband they might as well be
thousands of miles apart? Marshall did not love her. This show of temper was
nothing but possessiveness, a desire to keep his wife in her proper place. She
wanted to throw Sasha in his face, let him know she knew all about his sordid
little affair, that it was not “all over” as he had promised. But she dared not
risk losing control and revealing how desperately in love with him she was.

BOOK: Don't Hurt Me
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