Josephine Cox - The Runaway Woman

‘Oh dear.’ Lucy felt guilty. ‘She’s had a rough time of it lately, but I really thought she was dealing with her marriage break-up. The trouble is, our Paula hardly ever confides in anyone. She likes to think she’s invincible.’

Lucy went back over the past few months in her mind. While Paula’s husband, Ray, had tried his hardest to keep the marriage together, Paula seemed to be hankering after a life without him and, as ever, she was her own worst enemy.

‘Paula was the one at fault in the marriage, but she wouldn’t listen,’ Lucy admitted. ‘She obviously thought that Ray would forgive her, however she behaved. When he walked away from it all, she was shocked to her roots, and it’s such a shame, because he idolised her. And deep down I know she truly loved him. But now you’ve got me worried, Mary. I must find time to go and see her … make sure she’s all right. The thing is, I planned to check on Mum tonight. You know she’s been upset and ill since the fall, and I thought me going over to see them might give Dad a little break. And tonight was ideal, what with Martin working late, and Sam off out with his mates.’

The decision was made. ‘I’d best go and see Paula tonight, though. I mean, she’s the only one of us who doesn’t have anyone at home to talk things through with … not since Ray walked out. I can ring Dad from there. I’m sure he’ll understand.’

Mary was curious. ‘Is Paula’s marriage well and truly over then?’

‘Well, yes. From what I understand, she’s been served with the divorce papers, but she’s taking her time to sign them. The trouble is, ever since Ray left, she was certain he would never serve the papers. She was convinced that the two of them would get back together. Receiving the papers knocked her back a bit, though, being Paula, she would never admit it.’

A few minutes later, anxious to make sure her sister was coping, Lucy bade Mary cheerio and set off at a fast pace towards the bus stop, thinking that it wasn’t wise for Paula to show a brave face to the world when inside she must be devastated. No one could help her if she didn’t let them in. Lucy realised that her younger sister was still reeling from the end of her marriage. It was a huge, painful milestone in her life.

Knowing her sister’s unpredictable character, Lucy quickened her steps.

Having carefully manoeuvred his van into the narrow alcove, Martin went at the run down the alley, skipped up the two steps into Paula’s back garden, and let himself in through the back door.

Having seen his approach through the back window, Paula hid behind the kitchen door and waited to surprise him. She was wearing only a short, slinky slip; and a disappointed frown.

Entering the kitchen, Martin kicked out with his heel to shut the door. He then grabbed Paula and pressed her hard against the wall.

‘Ready for me, are you?’ His roving hands reached inside her slip.

‘Where the hell have you been?’ She pushed him away. ‘You should have been here ten minutes ago.’

Surprised at the vehemence of her tone, he gathered her to him. ‘Hey! It couldn’t be helped,’ he explained softly. ‘I had a last-minute complication with the electrics. It won’t happen again, I promise.’

‘It had better not, because if you ever keep me waiting again, I’ll bolt the door so you can’t get in.’

‘You wouldn’t dare!’

‘Huh! Don’t bet on it!’ Squirming from his grasp, Paula fled up the stairs, laughing and teasing as he chased her into the bedroom.

Anxious to speak with her younger sister, Lucy hurried down the street, her heels beating against the pavement as she neared the house. She thought of how Mary Taylor had described Paula as looking sad. Paula had best come and stay with me for a while, Lucy decided as she hurried along. It’s a pity she’s not full time at the petrol station because now it will give her more time to fret. I can’t leave her alone in that house, wittering and worrying, and making herself ill. But who can blame her for feeling miserable? What with the endless rows between her and Ray, then the difficult marriage break-up, and then getting sacked and having to find a new job.

When Lucy took a moment to compare her own life against her sister’s, she truly believed that Paula was worse off. While she, Lucy, had a husband and children, and a full-time job, even if it was hanging by a thread, Paula had none of these blessings.

She’s been through the mill, Lucy acknowledged, but she must know that I will always be here for her.

On arriving at the back door of Paula’s house, she stood on the step a moment, wondering what she might say. She reminded herself not to say that Mary had been talking to her. It would only cause trouble.

Bunching her knuckles to knock on the door, she was surprised to find it slightly open. Honestly! she thought. What have I told her about leaving the back door open? Anyone could walk in!

She gently pushed the door open, and was about to shout for Paula, when she heard the sound of voices from upstairs. One of them sounded like that of a man.

A smile crept over her homely face. Maybe Ray had decided to come home after all.

Though nervous about intruding, she made her way to the foot of the stairs, where she was shocked to her roots to recognise the man’s voice as belonging to her own husband.

She wondered if Paula had arranged for him to call round because of a problem in the house, but he had not said anything about that at breakfast; she would have remembered.

Think, Lucy! she told herself. Martin doesn’t always discuss the details of his work schedule. But if he was working at Paula’s house, surely he would have mentioned that?

Confused and a little apprehensive, she sensed that something was not right. Yet still she chided herself for allowing her imagination to run away with her. She told herself that it could not be Martin upstairs – she would have seen his van outside – and the voices were softly intimate, with the occasional childish titter of suggestive laughter. And yet …

Ashamed, Lucy tried to blank out the bad thoughts. She told herself that it could not be Martin up in the bedroom; and more shame on her for allowing herself even to think it.

It must be Ray, come home to talk things through, with the hope of repairing the marriage. Lucy’s heart lifted at the thought of a reunion between Paula and her estranged husband.

And yet that small, nagging voice in her head was warning her that something was not right here.

Having allowed suspicion to creep into her mind, she wondered whether she ought to make herself known. She was about to call up to them when there came a burst of familiar manly laughter. Lucy’s heart stood still.

There was no doubt in her mind now. The voice, the laughter … it was Martin, her husband.

For what seemed an age, Lucy stood transfixed, her ears assailed with a burst of intimate groans and excited cries, the kind only lovers might make.

As the stark realisation took hold, she could barely breathe. Although she promised herself that she was wrong, and this was not happening, she knew it was. As the lovers continued to laugh and whisper together, the truth was undeniable. It really was Martin and her sister, upstairs in each other’s arms.

Devastated, she turned to leave, wiping away her tears, but then a swell of rage flooded through her and shock turned to anger. No! She had to see them together. She needed each of them to look up and see her standing there. Only then would she be completely certain.