Trying Not To Love You

Part Six

Chapter Six

So ten minutes later Sonny tapped the kitchen door, then entered when she called to him.

                “Pizza?” Martha called from the utility room, off the kitchen.

                “Sounds great.”

He placed the bottle on the table then spotted two tumblers on the drainer. By the time she appeared with a frozen pizza to put in the oven, he’d poured two glasses, pushing one across the table towards her. She reached for it and he watched her drink a large slug, then shudder as she swallowed it, that made him laugh.

“Can I ask you a question?” Giving a nod Martha waited patiently for that. “What happened here? Why are you so talked about?”

She was quiet for a moment, and for Sonny the silence was painful. As if sensing that she stood and moved to the corner of the kitchen and put the radio on, she changed channels repeatedly until she found one that suited her mood, or that was what he presumed the nod of satisfaction was for, then she turned and announced, “I jilted the local golden boy.”

That caused him to prick up his ears, he’d really thought that Shirley was lying when she’d told him that, “you what?”

She laughed, “five years ago, I was due to get married. I saw the apparent love of my life...well let’s just say he wasn’t what I thought he was. I left after publicly confronting him...” he didn’t miss the shudder as she spoke, “and the town witnessed it all.”

He circled the rim of the glass with his finger as he thought about that, “so why are you the one under scrutiny?”

She shrugged, “because they know that I hated all the fuss, all the attention...and he didn’t say the nicest things about me. Personal. I have a little more class, you know?”

The bastard. Sonny was incensed; his case against Oldbury just kept growing and growing. “And he scares you?”

Martha did not want to go into this, not here, not now and not with a stranger so she shook her head, firmly. 

               

               

She’d not thought back to the night very often, not really. Though there were reminders everywhere she looked.  Scott Oldbury was the ultimate catch, and she’d been deemed mad for waltzing into the pub and telling him that she’d never marry him in front of all his friends, family and neighbours. But she’d had to do in front of them, because earlier that day she’d seen him personally beat a man who had his hands bound behind him into a pulp. Not a few punches, but boot kicks to a virtually comatose body on the floor. It had repulsed her, she’d thrown up afterwards, the dull thud of leather against flesh was a noise she could still remember vividly.

He was a dangerous man, she’d always seen hints of that, but when she’d turned up to his father’s home earlier than planned she’d seen more than she imagined possible. She’d spent the rest of day formulating her escape, knowing that this was the tip of the iceberg that she’d managed to pretend didn’t exist...until now. He wouldn’t take her leaving easily, and suddenly the confidence and commanding presence she’d found attractive, intriguing, now scared her.  Martha had never been scared in her life, not really, but suddenly she was petrified. No one knew she was leaving, let alone where she was going, and the safest way to get out of this was to have a showdown in public. He couldn’t hurt her in a room full of people. And if it hadn’t been for James, interfering, that would have been the last time she saw him. But it wasn’t.