Trying Not to Love You - Part Ten

Chapter Ten

The next night Sonny was walking home from the bookies, five hundred pound up after a ridiculously positive day courtesy of the horses. With a swing in his step and a smile on his face, and a bottle of vodka and a large pizza in his hands, he was looking forward to eating, drinking, then sleeping, tonight would be a night that he’d actually get some rest, he was sure.

As he almost skipped down the path to the farm he saw something in the distance, he wasn’t sure what. It was dark but there was something moving to his left. With the recent damage that he was more than convinced was sabotage, he had to investigate. As he got closer he realised it was Martha, stooped over something.

                “You ok?”

When she looked up he almost gasped at the pained expression on her face, “Portia.” She nodded at the dog in front of her. He’d not seen the animal until that moment, because she was barely moving and it was dark.

He felt genuine pain for her, and the animal, whilst he wasn’t that keen on pets, the two farm dogs were cool, and he’d taken to throwing sticks around the yard for them when he was bored, “What happened?”

                “I don’t know. She didn’t come in for her dinner so I thought I’d look for her.”

He dropped the pizza and vodka onto the soft verge, “is she alive?”

                “Barely breathing. I’ve got to get her to the Land Rover, but I’m too scared to move her. She’s heavy, and what if I hurt her?”

Sonny sighed; she was such a gentle and good person, “I thought nothing scared you.”

She laughed, “that’s just bravado, I think I’m petrified fifty percent of my life.”

                “Grab my stuff, I’ll carry her.”

Picking up the pizza and vodka she offered, “haute cuisine hey?”

                “Needs must!” He grunted as he lifted the dog into his arms.

The Land Rover was parked at the end of the lane, the rear door open, it was hard, but he managed to slide her onto the duvet that was laid out ready.

Then he turned to see Martha still terrified, “get in the back with her, I’ll drive you. Just need to tell me the way.”

She paused for a moment, wanting to exert her independence, but he was taking control and it was a relief to have someone else for five minutes.

They reached the vet and Sonny once again lifted Portia and carried her into the surgery, the team were awaiting their arrival. The vet wasn’t optimistic; the dog was in a terrible condition.

                “Let me see what I can do. Call me later.”

She shook her head, “I’m going to hang around...just in case.”

Sonny looked at her; she was being so brave wanting to do right by the animal, even though she was tired, sad.

                “Come share that pizza with me,” he looked at the vet, “we’ll be outside in the car.”

                “I’ll drive you back.” She offered, “I’m disturbing your evening.”

He shrugged, “was going to be me, a pizza and an Ian McNabb book. I’m not missing anything.”

Martha studied him as he opened the pizza box, “I’d not had you down as a reader.”

He placed a finger over his lips and gave a loud sshh. “Don’t ruin my street cred, ok?”

An hour later she’d drunk a chunk of the vodka in desperate glugs direct from the bottle that didn’t help, and had also helped him demolish the pizza, when the vet emerged.

                “She’s ingested vast quantities of something toxic, we’re not sure yet. I’m not sure she’s going to make it, she took it a while ago, it’s already well into her bloodstream.”

                “She’ll die?” As Martha asked the question with a shaky voice, Sonny came to stand behind her, placing a supportive hand on each of her upper arms and squeezing gently. He expected her to brush him off, push him away, but when she seemed to lean in to her he was surprised.

                “We don’t know Martha quite honestly. She’s on a drip; we’ve emptied her stomach and sent her blood off for analysis. If we can find out what she’s eaten there may be something specific to help her. Go home, I’ll call you, ok?”

Sensing her reluctance, Sonny responded, “thanks, she’ll call in an hour if that’s ok?”

The vet nodded, as Sonny forced her towards the car.

                “I wanted to stay,” she insisted as he drove the Land Rover towards the farm.

              “I know,” he glanced at her, “but you can’t do anything. You need to rest; you can only wait to see what happens. Being here won’t help all your other battles, will it?”

She hated admitting that he was right; it was far easier to be sullen and silent.

He chuckled, “you are one stroppy mare, aren’t you?”

Scowling at him, she rolled her eyes, then looked out the window at the dark night. But when his fingers found hers, squeezed them. She didn't fight it.

                “I owe you for the pizza, I ate most of it.”

Sonny shook his head, “not at all. You’ve been more than generous the last few months.”

Climbing out of the car, she looked across to him, “thanks. For helping me out...again.”

Shrugging he walked around to her, “no problems, just glad to be there when you needed me.”

Moving towards the house she turned and offered, “some people are grateful for help, see?”

It left him shaking his head in wonder at her cheek.

A knock woke him in the morning, at least he presumed it was morning, after leaving Martha the previous night he’d finished the bottle of vodka, and the end of a bottle of whisky. Then he’d not slept until god only knew what time. Yet again her words had thrown him back into memories that he tried to forget. What was it with that woman?

Struggling to his feet, he pulled on a pair of joggers and came down the stairs slowly, he was barely focussing.

                “She died. Three o’clock this morning.”

Sonny struggled to open his eyes properly, and before he could respond Martha seemed to take in the situation, “sorry Carter, I woke you up.”

He shook his head, “need to get up anyway. Sorry about Portia. How you feeling?”

Giving him a watery smile she offered, “not great. I’ll miss her, but not as much as Tessa...or Dad. I’m dreading telling him.”

He nodded awkwardly, “Thanks for letting me know.”

She sighed, “this isn’t just a ‘thank you’ conversation.”

Suddenly Sonny felt nauseous.

                “She was deliberately poisoned, antifreeze. She’d ingested a load of it.”

                “Was there some in the garage or one of the sheds? Did she find it there somewhere?” There had to be an innocent explanation for this.

Shaking her head she placed her hands on her hips, “yesterday some man, called himself John came around. Asking to buy the top field.”

                “No change there. Isn’t there someone every week asking that?”

Martha sighed, she’d presumed he’d believe her, but he obviously didn’t. “He said something as he left, usually they leave a bit gutted, but he was angry, aggressive almost. As he went he snapped, “think you’re safe here with your big drive way and your angry dogs. But you’re not! You should reconsider.” She shook her head in frustration, “when I looked around the back, where I found her, there were two empty antifreeze bottles...it was where he’d parked his car.”

                “Shit!” This was too close, Sonny was furious. Who the hell was this John who’d made threats? “Can you describe him? Do you know what he looked like?” How the hell could he face Carl later knowing that he’d let this happen? He hated that he’d let down his defences, and he hated that Martha had been crying, he could see that her eyes were still puffy.

She shook her head, “never seen him before, shorter than me, dark hair, ratty eyes...”

His own eyes widened, “ratty eyes? What the fuck does that mean?”

It wasn’t a funny time, but they both burst out laughing, “well they’re small, black...a bit like Sean Penn’s.”

                “Sean Penn the actor?” He tried to picture him in his mind but failed.

She nodded, “but not as good looking, and darker hair...”

                “You are useless! You’d be no good on Crimewatch, can you imagine the photofit?”

Rolling her eyes she stepped back a little, “well anyway...” She looked down her nose, trying to be haughty, but failed. Then closed her eyes when he laughed again, “anyway, I was wondering whether this was more sabotage...like the fences. Do you think one of these property developers is doing this? Should I go to the police?”

Sonny sighed, not a conversation for now, that was for sure. “Give me a chance to put my ear to the ground, ok? I move in different circles to you.”

It was all he could offer her.

He didn’t come back to her with any information and instead she had to break the news to her father, not something she was looking forward to. And the house was melancholy without the collie leaping around the place. Tessa the Alsatian was half the dog she’d been so she was subdued too. She’d wondered about calling the police, but now the time had passed, they’d wonder why she hadn’t reported it sooner.

                “Time’s been good to you.”

Martha froze at the sound of the oh-so familiar voice to her right. She’d been nervous since Portia was killed and so she’d become even more vigilant in the nights, checking and rechecking the property. Normally she took Tessa with her, but the other dog was subdued, hiding in her bed, pining for her friend.

Slowly she turned to see the man she’d feared for so long, lounging against the fence post less than ten metres away.

                “Scott.” The single word was laced with venom, she hated him, there was no secret in that. But she didn’t want to antagonise him, not that badly anyway.

                “You shouldn’t have come back.”

She rolled her eyes, glad that in the dark he could barely see her, “you had the chance to speak to me the other day. Why are you here?”

He laughed, a haunting sound in the dark, “you think I’m going to let the town gossips see this?”

That scared her, but she wasn’t about to let him see that, “see what? Come on Scott, we were over a long time ago. Can we exchange pleasantries then go our separate ways?”

                “You humiliated me. Jilted me publicly, embarrassed me in front of everyone, I don’t get over that easily.”

                “YOU humiliated me, you know that. You won, you won in the pub, and then you won after when you tricked James into telling you where I was. I owe you nothing, you hear? Nothing.”

He laughed again, “it was never enough. I want what you owe me.”

This was the irrational man she remembered, the evil, nasty bastard that she’d seen beat a man to a pulp. “I’ve nothing to give you.”

                “I want the land, the land your father has been keeping from me, and I want it for the price I ask for.”

                “We’re not for sale, none of the farm is.”

Scott grabbed for her upper arm, his fingers a vice-like grip around the soft flesh, “you WILL sell. Or I’ll take what I’m owed in other ways.”

                “I’m not scared of you Scott, I’m not that young naive girl you manipulated back then.” despite the strength in her voice, she didn’t have power behind her conviction, and she was quaking inside, the man was sadistic.

                “No?” He grabbed her other arm in a similar grasp, forcing her back against the fence. When she tried to push him away, tried to protect herself, he took both her hands in one of his which freed his other hand to drag at her chin, forcing her face up to his. He hovered just an inch from her face, hatred emanating from his every pore. “I always get what I want. Don’t you understand that?”

                “Is that what this is? You hate me because I left you? Am I the only one to defy you?”

He glared at her, then gave her a shove sending her flying into the hedgerow. By the time she pulled herself to her feet, she was alone, and only the roar of a retreating car was evidence that he’d ever been there.

Except for the bruises. She glanced at her arms the following day, purple marks that highlighted each one of his ten digits. Shaking her head she made for the foot of the stairs.

                    “Dinner will be half an hour,” she called out to Aunt Lucy. Saturday night was music night for her aunt, the church hall held a dance. So she ate dinner early purposely. And she didn’t provide ‘fancy’ food for her anymore. “Chicken casserole, your favourite.”

When her aunt appeared grumbling, she set the home cooked food in front of her.

                    “Where you going?”

Martha paused at the door, turning back to her aunt, “taking some of this to Sonny.” She didn’t know when she decided to do that. They were hardly friends, though fate had thrown them together on more than a couple of occasions, and Sonny had helped her out every time. It was the least she could do, and she did have excess of food and was away the following morning, it was logic wasn’t it?

The huff and the tut came as expected, then there was the roll of the eyes, and the muttering under the breath, “soft...just like your dad.”

Martha gave her head a shake, “for all your church and supposed goodwill you can be really hard Aunty, he’s on his own and I have extra food. Where’s all that Christian spirit you talk about?”

                    “He already has free lodging.”

She shook her head, “he’s not taking up any space, no one else would live there. It’s hardly the Ritz. And he has helped me out more than a few times around the place.” When her aunt raised an eyebrow, she looked down at the container in her hand, “do you begrudge him this? Or should I give it to Tessa? Is a dog worth more than him? I know she’s grieving, but really?”

Aunt Lucy had the good grace to look more than a little embarrassed, so smiling at that victory, Martha headed out to the yard.

She didn’t know if he was in, he could be anywhere, she hadn’t seen him for a few days. But she was feeling quite generous today. She was home in the morning, back to London for a snapshot at her life and she was counting the minutes.

He answered the door within a few seconds in a t-shirt and grey tracksuit bottoms, his feet bare, his hair on end, and his eyes still half closed.

                    “I woke you up, sorry.”

He smiled, “it’s fine, you ok?”

She nodded, “I was cooking...made too much. Wondered if you were hungry?”

Sonny sighed, “you are like my fairy godmother! I could eat a horse.”

                    “No horse,” she feigned a look of concern towards the field of horses. “But it’s chicken casserole.”

Smiling he rubbed at his tired eyes, “amazing. I haven’t had a good meal since the last one you handed my way. Is it good? I bet it is!”

She shrugged, “haven’t tasted it yet. Bit early for me, but have to cook early as old Lucy is heading out.” She paused for a moment, “she’ll be gone in half an hour. Do you want to come up to the house? Eat there? I’ve got a bottle of wine and there’s one of the Bourne films on later.”

Sonny looked at her for a moment wondering why this woman was being so accommodating. His room was anything but homely, and the thought of relaxing, being ‘normal’ for the night was more than appealing.

                    “Sounds amazing. Thanks.”

                    “Lucy’ll be picked up in about twenty minutes, head up after that?”

He smiled, “definitely.”