The Woman at 72 Derry Lane. Carmel Harrington
or two boys, Stella wanted to ask him. What then? Life isn’t perfect. There had been many times in her life that she wished for a do-over. How she wished she’d not fallen for him. A mere 386 days ago. Doesn’t sound like a long time, but it had become endless for her. Marry in haste, repent at leisure.
The night she met him, she’d been at her lowest. Weeks of being at home again had unleashed ghosts of her past. She found no peace, no matter how much she tried to block out the memories that haunted her. Everywhere she turned she saw reminders of a happier time and it paralysed her with fear.
So when Matt walked over to her that night, his head cocked to one side, with a big smile on his face, charm personified, he disarmed her. He said, ‘Will you give me ten minutes?’
‘For what?’ Stella was puzzled.
‘To find a way to make you smile. You look so sad. That’s not right.’
She saw compassion and kindness in his eyes. And she needed someone to care about her. She found herself nodding to the chair beside her, and he ordered two drinks for them.
And soon, over that first gin and slimline tonic together, he made her smile, then laugh and eventually her ghosts disappeared for a while.
Ten minutes turned into hours and when he begged her not to leave Dublin the following day, to give him a chance, telling her that life was too precious, that it could be snatched from you at a moment’s notice, she found herself nodding in agreement.
So she stayed, and within weeks they were in love. This charming, sophisticated man, who only wanted to take care of her. Whether it was choosing what she should eat or surprising her with a beautiful new dress, quite unlike anything else she owned in her wardrobe, he just wanted to look after her every need. And at first it felt good. Okay, the dress he bought her was slightly too tight, a size too small. But with a few adjustments to her diet, he told her she’d fit into it, in weeks.
He painted a fairytale life for them, which she now knew was built on lies and half-truths, but sometimes people only see what they want to. Stella allowed herself to believe in the possibility of a happy-ever-after. She blossomed under his loving care.
She winced as Matt touched her side, bringing her back to her crushing reality. ‘Oh, my darling, that still hurts you?’
She nodded, tears stinging her eyes.
‘Rest up, my darling. When you are back to your full health, we’ll start trying for that little baby boy.’
That was her lifeline. ‘Matt. I want a baby too. But my body has to be back to full health.’ She lifted her top and let his eyes rest on her bruised abdomen.
He looked away. He hated to see reminders of his temper, physical evidence of a side to his nature that he preferred to pretend didn’t exist.
‘Just give me another month, then we’ll start trying,’ she said.
He nodded, retrieving her contraceptive pill sheet and giving it back to her. ‘You’re right. Of course you are. Everything will be alright. You’ll see.’ He kissed her lightly and then left.
She waited until she heard his car pull out of the drive. She ran upstairs and hid her pill in one of her rolled-up socks, in case he decided to take matters into his own hands again. She had averted trouble for now, but it was also only a temporary solution. There was no way she could bring a child into a world like this. A world of pain and fear and sadness. Stella looked out her bedroom window, out towards the horizon, where the blue sky touched the ocean in the distance.
Was she strong enough to leave him?
Yes. For the sake of her unborn child, yes.
She’d need some help. There was only one person she could think of. Matt had been thorough over the past twelve months, taking care to isolate Stella from everyone in her life. He’d made her doubt her own sanity and her own voice. As a child, she’d been the outspoken one at home and now the only opinion that mattered in their lives was his. How had she let this happen?
No matter what she did, how hard she tried to please him, she would always do something that made him angry. No combination of words or actions on her part could ever placate the monster that lay within him.
She pulled her mother’s cardigan out of her wardrobe once more and pulled it around her, falling to the ground. She rocked back and forth, crying with shame for the mess she’d gotten herself into.
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