Sally narrowed her eyes at him. “Wait there.” She walked into her office and dipped her hand in her bag for her purse. She removed a fifty pound note, left her office and handed to Jack. “There. Wouldn’t want you being out of pocket, would we, Jack?” She turned back to her office, and mumbled loud enough for the team to hear, “Wouldn’t want your arse squeaking any louder than it does already.”
She heard the team laugh, and she struck an imaginary finger in the air, imagining her partner’s glare aimed at her retreating frame.
CHAPTER NINE
Sally spent the next hour celebrating Dorling’s arrest with the team. Feeling reservations on her part, she headed for home after consuming one glass of white wine. The team remained at the pub, engrossed in their jubilation of yet another case completed successfully. Sally pulled into the parking space at her flat then walked the hundred yards or so to her door. She stopped dead when she rounded the corner and saw the front door of her flat. Damn! Darryl. What the hell does he want?
Her ex-husband was banging on the door with his clenched fist, shouting out her name, and demanding to be let in. Two thoughts crossed her mind: either ring for backup and get him arrested for disturbing the peace or usher him into the flat before her neighbours got pissed off and called the police themselves.
Not wanting to feel uncomfortable with her new neighbours, Sally sucked in a large breath and approached her ex-husband. “Darryl? What are you doing here?”
He swayed a little when he turned to look at her, obviously drunk. “There you are. Sally, my darling wife! Come ‘ere.” He reached for her, but she slapped his hand away.
“I asked you what you’re doing here, Darryl?”
“I’ve come to see you. What a silly question, dearest,” he slurred, his voice rising. His eyes screwed up as he tried to focus on her.
Reluctantly, she pushed him through the front door ahead of her, glancing over her shoulder to see if any of her neighbours had come out to investigate the noise. Luckily, none of the neighbours had stirred.
Once she was inside, the old feelings of wariness she’d thought were buried suddenly resurfaced. She herded Darryl into the small living room then rushed past him into the tiny kitchen to put the kettle on. She knew that the only solution when he was in this state was to force gallons of black coffee down his neck. She returned to the living room to find him swaying in the centre of the room, repositioning his feet every few seconds as he surveyed all four corners of the living room. “This is shit.”
“I agree.” She left the room to prepare the coffee when she heard the switch sound on the kettle. Keep calm, girl. Let him say what he likes. You know what happens when you challenge him. With her inner voice’s instructions foremost in her mind, she returned to the living room and placed the two mugs of black coffee on the small table. She invited Darryl to sit in the only comfortable chair, volunteering to sit at the small table herself. But Darryl dropped lopsidedly into the other chair around the round table and just stared at her. Sally pushed his cup towards him.
“Why?” he asked.
“Because it looks as though you need sobering up.”
“Not the damn coffee.” He struck the mug with the back of his hand and sent it hurtling across the room, where it hit the newly painted wall.
“That’s enough, Darryl,” she said, fear causing her voice to tremble.
“Is it?” he snarled, baring his sparkling white teeth, which he’d recently spent a fortune on, in spite of their hefty debts.
“What do you want? Why are you here?”
“I want you. You’re my wife. You belong to me.”
Sally shook her head and let out her breath slowly. Keep calm. Don’t let his temper escalate. “You’re wrong. I don’t belong to anyone, Darryl. I’m my own person. I also have a decree absolute stating that we’re no longer husband and wife.”
He leaned over the table, his face inches from hers, until she had the courage to pull away and recline against the back of her chair. Her heart raced, outrunning her thoughts. Experience told her what to expect when he was drunk and angry.
“We were married and remain married in the eyes of the church. I won’t let a shitty piece of paper come between us. You hear me?”
“I don’t want any trouble, Darryl. You have no right being here. The judge went out of his way to tell you to leave me alone. All I want to do is get on with my life, a stress-free life from now on.”
“We can do that together. Live together as a married couple again. Why not?” His brow furrowed deeply.
“It’s over. We’re over. Why can’t you accept that and just get on with your life?”
He rose from the table. Her stomach muscles clenched nervously when he moved towards her and towered over her. She stared ahead, focusing on the kitchen doorway instead of being drawn to look at him. He shuffled back and forth, as if trying to decide what to do next, then thankfully, returned to his seat. She swallowed, remoistening her dry throat.
“Why?” he repeated. “What went wrong?”
You name it, you did it. Anything and everything from gambling, drinking, womanising to frittering away all our money on ‘dead-cert money-making ideas’ your loser friends insisted you should invest in. “It’s simple. We fell out of love. There’s no need to search long and hard to find a reason, Darryl. We simply grew apart.”
“I didn’t. I’ve ached for you every day since we parted. A pilot’s life can be a very lonely existence. You just couldn’t get your head around that.”
“Is that why you turned to work colleagues in your times of need?” She flinched when the words emerged from her mouth. If she could have bitten her tongue in two at that moment, she would have happily done so as she watched his eyes widen in anger.
“You’re wrong. What are a few drinks after a long flight?”
“It wasn’t the drinks that concerned me. The selfies the pair of you took screwing each other this way and that were your undoing. They pushed me over the edge.” Shit! Now you’ve riled him. Why don’t you learn to keep your mouth shut?
He stood, tipping his chair backwards. He marched towards her, quickly covering the divide between them, and grabbed her jacket lapels before she had the chance to escape. Darryl hauled her to her feet. Their noses, as well as other parts of their bodies, touched. She made a point of staring into his angry eyes as she felt his erection grow against her thigh. Please no. Not again. Don’t let him hurt me. All the police training she’d been through over the years seemed to dissipate at that instant, just as it had deserted her throughout their abusive marriage. For once in your life, stick up for yourself. Don’t let him harm you anymore. Her inner voice demanded action, and she followed through on that advice.
She pushed at his chest, catching him off-guard. He toppled onto his backside on the floor, dazed. She leaned over him and shouted, “No more. You’ll never lay another hand on me. Do you understand?”
Darryl appeared to relax, but she refused to drop her guard, thinking that he was playing a trick on her. Finally, she backed away and dropped into her chair again. He gently got to his feet, still swaying a little, and returned to his chair.
“I’m sorry. Why can’t we just talk and try and work things out?” he pleaded softly.
“Because it’s over. O…V…E…R. Over, Darryl. When are you going to realise that?”
“But I still love you. I can’t switch my love off like a light switch. You love me, too, right?”
Sally looked him in the eye and shook her head slowly. “No. I don’t love you. Over the years, you’ve destroyed any respect or love I ever had for you. The truth is, I fell out of love with you a year after we got married. I didn’t have the heart to tell you, though. I’m not as stupid as you think I am. I knew you were screwing half the stewardesses on your trips, but I was so engrossed in my own work that I chose to ignore it. But those selfies brought everything to a head, and I could no longer put up with your womanising ways. I think half the time you believe you have the right to dip your dick where it suits. I have news for you, Darryl—you don’t. For my own safety, I had to call a halt to it. Haven’t you noticed over the past few years how many times I refused to have sex without you wearing a condom? I was scared of what disease you might infect me with. Yes, that might be an OTT reaction, but the thought of you screwing every stewardess you came into contact with used to fill me with disgust. I no longer have to face such fears, now that I’m single.”