Page 10 of Indie

“Who did this to you?”

Indie’s voice was gentle, but I didn’t miss the command in his tone. Or how I knew there was no option of not telling him. And for a moment, I thought about the answer I could give. I was mugged. Attacked by a stranger. I walked into the door. I fell over. Those rich brown eyes never left mine, focussing somewhere deep inside of me, somewhere he could see what I was thinking.

“Tell me the truth, Spuggy.”

“My ex.”

That was all I could say. For a moment, I couldn’t look at him. I didn’t want to see the pity or the disgust on his face. But he gripped my chin again, and now I had to let him see me. His face was still, his lips pushed together, his expression almost blank. No hint of emotion. No sympathy, no anger, no disdain. He was perfectly stoic. And frighteningly calm.

Beside us, his father coughed, the sudden noise making me jump and Indie dropped his hand.

“Well now,” Mr Carter croaked, his voice dry and raspy. “What’s all this then?”

Now all words had disappeared, and I scurried away.

*****

“When are you coming for your kids, Emmie?” My mother’s voice crackled down the phone, the signal dropping in and out as I drove home.

“Ernie says I can do another shift.”

“You did one last night.”

“I know. I need the money, mam.”

“You’re working double shifts in the hospital. And now at Ernie’s too. How do you have no money?”

“I just don’t, mam.”

“It’s Gaz, isn’t it?”

I paused. A second too long.

“Jesus, Emmie. Why do you still have anything to do with him? You need to tell him where to go.”

I knew that. I’d tried. We were no longer together. But getting rid of him was easier said than done. More so when he was the father of my kids. And harder still when he knew he could waltz in and take whatever he wanted. There wasn’t a thing I could do to stop him. Not even the police had helped, going to them only making things worse. I should be thankful he at least didn’t want to live with us anymore, that the kids couldn’t see what he was doing.

“I just need to do another shift or two at the garage. Then I’ll be ok till next payday.”

Shrill voices shouted in the background, playful and happy. My heart swelled, then burst instantaneously.

“Nanna! Nanna! Can I have some sweets?”

It was Lily’s little voice I could hear.

“Of course. They’re in there.”

My stomach fluttered, the deep ingrained flush of guilt. Guilt for the things I couldn’t give them. For the lifestyle they missed out on when they were with me. For the second-hand clothes and second-hand toys I bought, so that they had something to wear and something to open on birthdays and Christmas. Luke was growing older, and whether he realised, he hadn’t let on yet. But soon it would come. I’d already seen the occasional look of resentment he would shoot me.

“They can stay another night, Emmie,” my mother said quietly, a note of resignation in her voice.

“Thanks, mam. Really. Thank you.”

Another night and I’d be better able to cover the angry cut on my face.

“Was that him?” Ernie growled, his grey eyes darkening when I walked into the office at the back of the little shop on the forecourt.

I bit my lip, immediately regretting it, pain rushing to the battered skin.