Semi-Detached by Elizabeth Ruth

Author:Elizabeth Ruth
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FIC045010 FICTION / Family Life / Marriage Divorce FIC018000 FICTION / LGBTQ+ / Lesbian FIC080000 FICTION / Multiple Timelines
Publisher: Cormorant Books
Published: 2023-09-16T00:00:00+00:00

Annie climbed into bed in her cotton pyjamas and tucked herself in neatly between the sheets. The milk glass shade of her bedside lamp lit the emerald-coloured wall on her side of the room. She was restless, and the Agatha Christie she’d signed out of the local library was not going to be enough of a distraction. Her bedroom door was shut tightly. She’d heard the men come in downstairs and begin pouring Scotch and dealing for contract bridge: twenty points in clubs and diamonds, thirty points in hearts and spades…. They’d be at it all night. She’d pushed her waterfall dresser against the door, just in case anyone stumbled in. The real trick, she thought, was how to get some sleep with so much on her mind.

Flipping onto her side, she hugged a pillow. Tonight at the club had sealed it; she belonged with Eddie, in Eddie’s world. If she’d had any doubts whatsoever, about Eddie or the life her friends led, she had none now. It was clear as consommé; despite their differences, she was like those girls in how she loved, who she could love. They shared a common nature. Did they see it in her too?

She ran her fingers across the dust jacket of the mystery novel on her bedside stand and glanced at the bedroom door where the dresser stood like a heavy-set man, blocking the entrance and exit. The windows were open an inch, and her coral pink curtains billowed in the breeze. There’s always a way out, she thought. There has to be. This was how her mother must’ve felt, desperate to escape a life she knew would otherwise destroy her. Until now, Annie had supposed that running away was a cowardly act. The better path would’ve been for her mother to have shown more moxie standing up for herself, and stayed with Annie no matter what, but she was beginning to see that running was survival. The worst thing about living in fear wasn’t the moment of violence itself, those moments were over fast enough, and she healed. The worst things were the hours and days and months of dread in between those moments, waiting on tenterhooks for his temper to erupt, blaming herself for not being able to prevent it, the shame of hiding the bruises and knowing that even if people knew what was happening at home, no one would save her. She understood her mother better now; a person can be broken and die in a thousand ways, not only physically. And maybe Frances hadn’t wanted to leave her behind at all? What choice did any woman have when her life was on the line? Annie choked back tears, tightened into herself like a woolly caterpillar. She was already halfway to a dying spirit unless she did something to stop it.

Downstairs, the men were laughing, shouting their game points at each other, her father’s deep voice in the mix. It would be so much simpler to hate him, she thought, to want him dead.

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