Chapter 54

Olivia tried to hear past the sound of blood rushing through her ears.

It had taken every ounce of energy she possessed to pretend that everything was normal when Logan was nearby. Well, what passed as her version of normal now. Different parts of her body seemed determined to foil her plan before she'd even had the chance to try and execute it.

Her heart was beating so hard she felt it might break out of her chest. Her legs were trembling beneath her plain black trousers, and she was keeping her hands busy washing the same two plates over and over again.

She had to try and listen for the tell-tale sound of the front door closing. She'd only noticed a couple of weeks ago that Logan didn't lock the front door behind him when he went to collect the wheelie bin from the kerb.

The bins lived around the side of the house, so for just a few seconds, he was out of sight of the unlocked front door. Was it enough for her to get to the end of the path and away without Logan seeing her, giving her an extra few seconds before he realised the house was empty?

Her footwear wasn't ideal. She only ever wore flip-flops now. Her outside shoes had been locked away a long time ago.

She briefly wondered if she should remove them altogether before she started running. But that wouldn't work. The gravel from the borders that had been blown onto the path would have her crying out in pain and slow her down. No, she just had to go as fast as she could with them on. She couldn't risk him hearing her before she even got out the gate.

Who was she kidding? She probably wouldn't even make it to the gate. She shook the doubts away. She had to make it.

She dared not think of the consequences if he caught her. Her life had become much worse after the last attempt. She was sure if it happened again, he'd likely beat her to death. But the end of her life wasn't even the worst thing that could happen. At least in death there would be an escape.

The worst thing was the fear. Every living minute was spent in fear of angering him or doing something to set him off. The worst thing was her life continuing exactly as it was now.

Her body tensed as she heard the front door open. She held her breath as the door closed behind him.

Closed but not locked.

She headed for the front door and stood to the side, sneaking a glance through the plain glass panel.

He walked up the path to retrieve the bin. She shot back behind the solid door. If he saw her standing there, he'd know she was up to something.

She heard voices so she snuck another glance. It was Martin, a widower in his early sixties from across the road. Although she couldn't hear the words being exchanged, she guessed from the body language and his occasional glance to the front door that Martin was enquiring after her.

Please, Martin, not today, she pleaded silently. Her courage was in danger of deserting her at any second. Any delay was increasing her fear of failure. Her fear of being caught. The courage to actually execute her plan was fading.

The voices raised in farewells, followed by the unmistakeable sound of the wheelie bin being pulled down the path.

She pressed herself against the wall as her trembling hand reached for the door handle.

His shadow passed the front window. He had reached the edge of the house. Just another couple of seconds until he was at the farthest point away from the gate and out of sight.

I can't do it, she thought as nausea rose inside her. Beads of sweat broke out on her forehead. She couldn't go back now.

She pushed down the handle and bolted out of the front door. Despite the trembling in her legs, she reached the gate and flew through it. She turned left and began to run. She had no plan except to keep moving until she found somewhere to hide.

She was out of the house; she was free.

She didn't stop. Maybe she should knock a door. But who would believe her? She was crying, shaking with fear.

She heard Logan call after her.

She didn't stop. She had to knock a door. She had to make someone understand what was going on. Vera at number ten would help her. Three more steps and she'd be at the gate. She could hear Logan behind her. Running, calling her. Just another couple of steps.

The front of her flip-flop caught on a raised slab. She staggered and fell.

She cried out as a strong hand grabbed the back of her neck.

‘Nice try, Mom,' Logan said with amusement in his voice. ‘Scream once and I'll break every bone in your body,' he continued as he lifted her from the ground.

She looked desperately around the street, but there wasn't a soul in sight.

‘Come on now, Mom – let's get you back home,' he said, pulling her right arm up behind her back to force her back to the house.

Her eyes stung, and more tears fell as she realised the futility of resisting. She was being returned to prison, and she knew it was only going to get worse.

As helplessness engulfed her, she just hoped that the inevitable beating would be bad enough to be her last.