The Girl in Red by John Nicholl

Author:John Nicholl [Nicholl, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2019-03-17T16:00:00+00:00

Kathy was met by the unmistakable dank odour of chronic damp as she entered the small box room with its single bed, free-standing Victorian wardrobe and wooden chair. She thought she heard a faint scuttling sound coming from above the ceiling as she locked the door with a single turn of the key, wedging the high back of the chair under the door’s discoloured brass handle in the interests of security. She shuddered as she turned away, glancing into the grey-white street before closing the yellow curtains and slumping onto the lumpy, overly firm mattress, choosing to rest fully clothed on top of the bedclothes rather than climb under the thin quilt.

Kathy lay back, staring at the ceiling with unblinking eyes, and hoping that the noise of tiny clawed feet indicated mice as opposed to rats. She looked to each corner of the room, taking it all in for the first time. It was the least aesthetically pleasing space she’d ever entered, let alone stayed in. There was no doubt on that score. But so what? What did it matter? Her husband wasn’t there. That’s what counted. She repeated it in her head. She was safe. Her unborn child was safe. The monster man wouldn’t suddenly appear with his criticisms, threats or worse. There would no punches or kicks to bruise her vulnerable flesh. No cruel blows placing her baby’s life in danger as before. Perhaps she’d never see the bastard’s hateful face again, except in her flashbacks and nightmares. Maybe she really had escaped him this time. Perhaps she’d already won.

Kathy closed her tired eyes and tried to relax, picturing a black velvet hammock in a pitch-black room filled with unconditional love. By the time she finally drifted into sporadic sleep, forty minutes had passed and she woke several times in the coming hours, eventually rising to the sound of drunken singing at ten past one that afternoon.

She stood, stretched, picked up her coat, and made a brief but necessary bathroom visit, splashing her face with ice cold water to help shake off the residual elements of sleep. Kathy stared into the oval mirror above the white porcelain sink and decided she looked exhausted and drained yet somehow happy. There was less tension in her face. No fear in her eyes. Or at least none that she was willing to acknowledge. What would that achieve? Now wasn’t the time for doubts or indecision. She had to stay strong.

There were three male customers in the dimly lit bar when Kathy entered the room, in addition to the landlord, who was in the process of serving a pint of strong German lager to a grossly overweight, red-faced drunk in a poorly fitting business suit. She glanced at each man in turn, weighing them up, trying to read their thoughts before lowering her eyes as the landlord called out to her with the hint of a smile playing on his pudgy face.

‘Nice to see you up and about, love. Are you going

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