Laura Ch. 05

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shandal
shandal
290 Followers

"Barbara I told you we shouldn't get involved, besides you saw, there is someone else involved, and we don't know the whole story. Just leave it."

"I can't. I'm so worried. Tomorrow I am going to go next door and see if I can do anything."

"Well don't be surprised if you're told to mind your own business."

*

Laura stood there trembling, Roberts arm around her shoulder, holding her still against his side as he hissed in her ear "you little bitch, so that's your bit of rough on the side" and watching as Chris got in the cab and it drove off "Well say goodbye to him my love, because if you ever see him again I'll not only kill you, I'll make sure he has a bad accident and never walks again. Should be easy to arrange, just a swerve of a car into him and he won't look so tall sitting in a wheelchair."

Tears ran down her cheeks as she looked out at the now empty street, and then she felt Robert's arm leave her shoulders and suddenly her head exploded in pain and she collapsed to the floor.

"Bitch, you stupid bitch" he screamed as he bent over the figure on the floor hitting and slapping her around the head and face, easily getting past the feeble attempts that Laura put up to defend herself.

Grabbing her feet he pulled the nearly unconscious woman across the room and out through the door to the kitchen where he picked up a kitchen chair and throwing it across the room carried on screaming abuse at her as she lay in a heap on the tiled floor.

The wooden chair bounced off the cupboard and across her, hitting her hard across her arm and side, a bolt on sharp pain lancing through her ribs.

"You think you can play around on me with that big pile of shit. Well I'll teach you both." and kicking the chair off her, leant down and pulled her up by her hair to sitting position and hissing in her ear "You belong to me until I get fed up with you. Do you understand? You live by my rules, and if you don't I'll make sure lover boy's life is hell. And I can do it. I have friends who can do it. Do you understand bitch?" And with a mighty push on her head he got up and left the room as Laura's head hit the corner of the end cabinet and she passed out on the floor, blood dripping from the wound in her scalp where it hit the sharp corner.

*

Storming out the house Robert got back in his car and headed for the bar. Red hot anger ran through his veins and as he drove, his hands tightly gripping the steering wheel, shouting out loud to the empty car "Bitch. Bitch, fucking little bitch."

Suddenly with a screech of wheels he turned the car around and returned to the house, storming back into the kitchen, bending down to grab by the hair the now unconscious woman, and raising his hand to hit her again.

Realising his hand felt wet and sticky he held it in front of his face and saw the blood. The dawning washed like cold water through him that she was bleeding from her head and was unconscious, her limp body un-responding to him.

Sitting back on his heels, he sat watching her as she lay there not moving unsure what to do next, realising that this time he might have gone too far.

After a while shaking and scared he stood shakily up using his hand on the kitchen counter to steady himself. A drink, he needed a drink and then he would decide what to do next.

*

One glass of wine had turned into a couple of bottles as the nervous man stood drinking unsure what to do, praying that she would be awake when he returned to the house. He couldn't call an ambulance as that would entail too many questions, the same if he called a doctor. Best to leave it and see what happens, she'll probably be OK when he returned home later, and turning around to the bar with a trembling hand held up the twenty pound note and waved it at the bar man as a signal to order.

*

Laura groaned and turned on her back, her legs stretching out and hitting the leg of the kitchen table, her head was pounding and the swellings and bruises on her face felt tight and throbbed painfully. Slowly she moved her hand up to her head, gingerly touching the place where it felt like a spike was poking in her scalp and winced as her fingers found the wound and lump that was pulsating with every beat of her heart as the blood flowed through her body.

Uncomprehendingly she looked at her fingers she had touched the wound with, seeing the blood staining her skin, sticky and wet, and laying there on her back on the cold floor she sank back down into the sweet blackness of oblivion.

*

The barman looked across at the agitated man holding onto the top of the bar as he stood opposite him ordering another glass of wine.

Earlier in the evening he had noticed the smears of blood on the man's white shirt as he had handed over the money to pay for his drinks. Shirt slightly un-tucked and tie pulled loose around his neck the man looked unlike his usual immaculate self when he normally came to the bar. Tonight he seemed distracted and nervous. The barman assumed it must be something to do with the blood, maybe he had been in a fight, although looking at the man he would never have guessed he was the type to use his fists, he always seemed the glib type to talk his way out of trouble.

Just goes to show how wrong you can be about someone he thought to himself as he handed over another glass of wine and took the money, watching as the man shakily lifted the glass to his mouth and gulped down half the rich ripe red liquid.

*

Laura didn't know how long she had lain there on the floor, it could have been minutes or it could have been hours. Her body was aching, her head felt like a football that had been kicked repeatedly, throbbing and hot.

Carefully sitting up, wincing at the pain in her side where the chair had hit her, she looked around, listening frantically for any sign of Robert.

She knew she had to get out at once, the need to save herself the most paramount emotion giving her the strength to get first to her knees and then to her feet as she staggered out of the kitchen to the front door.

Opening it she carefully looked outside in to the dark night, and pulling her blood smeared jacket tighter around her she unsteadily walked out, closing the door to her home and her life behind her.

Shakily she walked to the end of the road, not sure what to do or where she was going, moving slowly with her head down, and dazed with pain, her feet instinctively took her along, moving her step by step on the first leg of her new life, to the one place she really felt safe.

*

Arriving home much later the drunken man weaved his way up the path from his car now parked haphazardly, half on and half off the drive, and into the still and quiet house. Calling out his wife's name he lurched from room to room, swearing under his breath as no sound of life answered back. Only the sound of his heavy breaths and plaintive shouts echoed back at him as he moved around, searching for her only to find himself alone.

The bitch wasn't anywhere, so turning around he aimed again for the bedroom where he fell across the bed and passed out.

shandal
shandal
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vietvetvietvetabout 14 years ago
I appreciate your comments:

I a m familiar with domestic abuse as my own daughter was a victim.

I realize that the victim doesn't very often press charges but the operator of the hospice could press charges for criminal trespass, or at least in the U.S.A., at least still at this time, but I think they are trying to change that freedom hear also.

shandalshandalabout 14 years agoAuthor
Note from author in response to vietvet

I researched the official guidelines that Police have to follow when dealing with a domestic. They cannot put the man overnight in jail unless he has caused actual physical harm, or the victim presses charges.

With battered woman they often refuse to press charges, and as pointed out in the chapter do not leave or do anything about their situation until about 35 incedents.

Police can issue warnings and log the domestic, they can offer the victim help in contacting shelters, but more than often the woman refuses.

In England woman die nearly every week, killed by their partner who has a history of abuse and police call outs.

Police in this country are hobbled by rules and regulations, and often are overworked with attendance to other incedents and paperwork. Thus domestic violence against woman not pushed as priority.

vietvetvietvetabout 14 years ago
Haven't finished yet:

Just have to make a comment about the cops and the hospice manager.

Haven't been to England, but was in Hong Kong when the Britt's still controlled it and the cops weren't pussies like these two sods.

The hospice operator could have pressed charges and had Robby boy put in jail for at least the night. So much for realism.

gramps14gramps14about 14 years ago
More?

I hope there is more to this and how she makes out in her new life.

Gramps

AnonymousAnonymousabout 14 years ago
So very believable!

The suspense is killing me! Fantastic story and so very realistic! You have truly captured the emotions of the characters and delivered a very realistic display of a battered woman! I truly hope that she finds happiness with Chris and that Trish gets what's coming to her and Robert is on the receiving end of a beating. I'm not sure if I would prefer to see him in jail or dead. I'm leaning toward dead. I hate that man! Thanks for writing and sharing this story with us!

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Laura Ch. 04 Previous Part
Laura Series Info

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