She should have been beautiful.
She was a petite brunette of twenty-three of 5'2". Her shoulder length, auburn hair framed a delicate elfin face with green eyes, a button nose and a pair of soft, ruby-red lips. Her figure was slim, yet had all the curves in the right places covered by a short sleeved T-shirt and a knee length denim skirt.
She should have been beautiful.
Her left eye was swollen closed and was surrounded by an angry purple bruise. Her forearms had several small circular scars, about the size and shape of a cigarette end and a slight lump on her right side showed the result of a badly healed broken rib. She walked with a stoop and kept her eyes on the ground as she moved. Her face wore a haunted expression and never smiled. That smile that had, in the past, brightened an entire room.
She should have been beautiful.
Lynne finished packing her suitcase and closed the lid. Then she sat on her narrow bed and looked around the room. It was sparsely furnished, just the bed and a single battered wooden locker. The only decoration was a small crucifix screwed to the wall above the bed head.
There was a tap at the door and a woman's voice said, "They're here Lynne."
She stood up, grabbed the small case and opened the door. Her new friend, Sybille stood there. About 45 years old, she was a blousy looking bottle blonde, somewhat overweight and a cigarette permanently in the corner of her mouth. Her eyes could have been a vibrant blue, but they had seen too much and had lost their lustre. She smiled, "Are you okay love?"
Lynne tried to return the smile, but could not. She was too nervous. She took a deep breath and then nodded.
Together, the two women made their way to the front door of the building where three men stood waiting.
Two of the men, although somewhat larger than Lynne showed a clear family resemblance. The other was a blond man of about 5'10". Broad shoulders and a well toned body with strong well-defined musculature. He obviously worked out on a regular basis. His face was masculine if not classically handsome. But the entire package presented quite an imposing figure.
The older of the other men started to smile when he saw Lynne walking towards them, but his expression turned dark when he saw her face and arms as she came closer. He swore, "Bastard!" He started to shake with rage, "That bastard! Let's find him and kill him!"
The blond responded, "Hang on Brian. The important thing is to get Lynne home. We can think about what to do about Jimmy once she's safe."
Struggling to get his temper under control, Brian was forced to agree. The important thing was to get Lynne home.
Lynne stopped in front of the trio, looked at Brian and burst into tears. He took his sister in his arms and whispered soothing noises as she sobbed uncontrollably.
He managed to calm his little sister sufficiently for her to be led to where his car was parked. Before she climbed in, she turned and looked back at Sybille stood in the doorway of the women's refuge and said, "Thank you."
Sybille smiled briefly and replied, "Don't take this the wrong way, but I never want to see you again," then she returned back inside and closed the door behind her.
Brian took the driver's seat and Tommy sat next to him, leaving the back seat for Nathan and Lynne.
The young man regarded her silently as she sat next to him. Lynne sat with her head bowed and stared at her hands as her fingers intertwined. He had always held a candle for her and it pained him to see the woman he remembered as a happy-go- lucky person with a sparkling personality in such a despairing state.
Her brothers in the front did not dare to speak, if they did then their collective rage would make them spew forth their hatred for the man who had done this to their baby sister, and both knew that the last thing she wanted to hear about was Jimmy.
Nathan too was raging at the changes Jimmy had wrought in Lynne, but he managed to keep his emotions in check so he could at least talk to her. He reached out to touch her shoulder; Lynne saw his hand out of the corner of her eye and without conscious thought, flinched away from him. He recoiled as if he had been bitten, "I'm sorry Lynne," he said, "I didn't mean to scare you."
Lynne looked back at him. She hated what she had become, scared to feel the touch of a man, even one as innocent as what Nathan had attempted. She knew he would not hurt her and she also knew that he had always had feelings for her, but still, she couldn't stand the touch of a man's hand. Her mind always jumped back to the feel of Jimmy's hand as he punished her for real or imagined transgressions.
Her mind floated back. At first he had been an attentive and loving husband, but then one day that had changed. He had been made redundant from his job and had been unable to find another. Depression set in and he had started drinking. She remembered the first time he had ever laid his hand upon her. He had come home from the pub, drunk and they had started to row. Once again, he had spent the housekeeping on drink and he had slapped her.
He was instantly contrite and apologetic and swore never to do it again. Lynne had believed him and forgave him that little slip. But it did happen again, repeatedly and each time he was just as apologetic and each time she forgave him.
The slaps had turned to punches and kicks. His dinner was late, punch. She stayed out too late, punch. She accidentally broke his favourite beer glass when she was washing up, kick. On that occasion he had broken her rib and she had been too frightened to go to the hospital, so it had mended badly leaving the misshapen lump on her side.
He started to tell her how stupid she was, how ugly she was and how worthless she was. And in time, she started to believe him.
Her sex life with him was something she had come to fear and hate. On the rare occasions when he was able to perform, he would force himself on her. Thrusting his tongue into her mouth and physically making her perform oral sex. His rancid breath and unwashed body nearly made her sick, but she had to maintain an air of enjoyment or risk another beating.
One day it came to a head. He had come home drunk as usual and started accusing her of being unfaithful. One of his drinking cronies had told him how she had been seen dancing with another man on one of her infrequent nights out with her friends. The story was a tissue of lies; she never would have dared do such a thing, much as she might have wanted too.
All of her entreaties fell on deaf ears. She could still remember his words, "You cheating slut! I'll show you what happens to wives who fuck around!"
He removed his leather belt and had given her a savage beating on her back and buttocks. She curled into a screaming ball on the floor, but still he hit her until she thought she would pass out.
Then he had calmly lit a cigarette and had applied it liberally to her forearms. The agony had been almost more than she could take.
Once he had finished, he had calmly stood back up, put his belt back on and said coldly, "Now, Bitch. I didn't want to do that, but I had to. You do understand don't you? You gave me no choice."
He then walked into the kitchen and called out matter-of-factly, "Is dinner ready yet?"
That episode had been the turning point for Lynne, she couldn't take any more. She was terrified that the next time he beat her up, he would kill her. Once, she had loved him, but now the only feelings she had were fear and loathing. So, the very next day when he went out to continue with the destruction of his liver, she had grabbed a small suitcase, filled it with her few clothes and headed straight for the women's refuge.
Nathan watched Lynne carefully as she sat deep in thought; his voice was thick with emotion as he asked, "Jesus, Lynne. What's he done to you?"
Lynne couldn't answer him, all she could do was sit and weep in silence.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++
It was a few days later. Lynne had been brought home to live with Brian and Nathan in the house they shared together. She had been given her own room and a rota for the bathroom worked out. Both men were careful to give Lynne all the privacy she needed. They knew she was very conscious about her body and the scars it carried.
Their evenings were spent listening to music or watching television in the living room. Sometimes Brian and Nathan would enjoy a beer, but Lynne never drank anything stronger than tonic water. However, this particular evening, Brian was forced to work late and so Nathan and Lynne had the house to themselves.
They were stood together in the kitchen and were just finishing off the washing up. Nathan had just rinsed out the bowl and turned to ask Lynne if she wanted a hand with the drying. She turned her head to look at him and as she did so, accidentally knocked a wine glass from the draining board onto the floor, where it landed and broke into several pieces.
Lynne stiffened as she watched it fall; it was almost as though it was slow motion. She looked back up at Nathan, but all she could see was Jimmy snarling in anger at her clumsiness.
Nathan reached out to see if she was okay, but what she saw was a fist flying towards her.
She screamed.
Lynne fell to the floor and curled into the foetal position, still screaming, "Please Jimmy! I didn't mean it! No!"
Nathan stood in shock. Never in his wildest imagination did he ever expect to see Lynne in the state she in now, "Oh Jesus! What's that bastard done to you?"
He crouched down next to her and tried to gather Lynne into his arms. She felt his touch and started lashing out wildly, desperate to escape the beating she knew was coming.
And still she screamed.
Nathan ignored her tiny, flailing fists. He forced her into a semi-sitting position and wrapped his arms around her firmly, "It's okay, it's Nathan. You're safe here. It's all okay."
Over and over he whispered those words as she sobbed and hammered against his chest. Eventually, she reached the point of exhaustion and her fighting and sobbing died down. She held her arms in front of her chest inside his embrace and she cried quietly into his shoulder. But still he maintained his steady soothing words.
Presently, her crying stopped and she stared into space dully. Lynne felt like a rag doll in Nathan's arms. Gently he picked her up and carried her upstairs to her bedroom. He laid her on the bed and covered her in a blanket and then sat down next to her and stroked her forehead. Her eyes slowly focussed on his face and she tentatively reached up to take his hand. She squeezed it gently, held it to her cheek and gave him a shy half-smile.
Nathan gazed down at her and smiled back gently, "You're exhausted," he said, "try and sleep a bit."
Brian arrived home later that evening and stood in the doorway to his sister's room. He saw her asleep on the bed and Nathan still sat next to her holding her hand. Nathan noticed the new arrival, and at Brian's look of askance carefully extracted his hand and left the room.
Back downstairs, Brian asked what had happened and Nathan recounted the events of the evening, getting more and more emotional as he spoke.
"She panicked because she broke a glass?"
By this point Nathan was shaking with impotent fury and tears flowed unbidden, "Oh Jesus Brian! You didn't see her!" his hand flew to his mouth as though he were about to be sick, "If I ever see him, I am gonna put him in a fucking wheelchair!"
Brian was shocked, he had never seen his friend like this, and the vehemence with which he spoke convinced Brian of his sincerity. He reached out to clasp Nathan by the shoulder and answered, "Join the queue."
Late into the night, the two friends sat together. Brian barely spoke, but he listened as Nathan poured his heart out. How he felt about Lynne, how it hurt him so much to see her like that, what he was going to do to Jimmy if he ever saw him. But mainly how he felt about Lynne.
During a lull, Brian said, "Do you think I'm blind? Do you think I didn't know how you felt? I know you better than you think Nathan," he paused, "I want to ask you a favour."
