Chapter 18: NOW - The Safe Room

Why hesitate? There’s a woman outside who needs my help. She’s bruised, freezing cold, and alone, and yet my finger hovers over the control button, hesitating. I met this person, I know she moved in recently and that she’s my neighbour. A good person would not even think about it, a good person would let her in right away.

Emily is a stranger. I don’t know where she came from and whether she has an ulterior motive. I wipe my sweating palms together. If I let her in, I could be letting anyone into my house. What if this is an act?

“Hello?” her voice crackles through the app. “Amber? Are you there?”

I bite my lip, fear still coursing through me. I haven’t trusted a stranger for nineteen years. Why should I believe her?

Then I sigh. Most people are good. Not everyone in the world is Peter Harlow. The moment at the party circles through my mind again. All that paranoia. I’m losing my grip on reality, becoming a cynical person. I pull in a deep breath and press the button to open the gates.

Emily thanks me in a breathless voice and hurries up the drive to the house. I open the door ready for her.

“My God, you must be freezing.” I take her through to the living room and grab a blanket from the sofa, wrapping it tightly around her shoulders.

Her thin body convulses with shivers and instinctively, I pull her in closer to me, rubbing her arms over the blanket. She’s drenched from head to toe from snow and ice, and her lips are tinged blue. I grab another throw from the armchair and drape it over her wet hair.

“Th-thank you,” she says, her teeth chattering loudly.

Sophie stands shyly in the doorway taking in the scene. This is a little grown-up for her, and I can tell she’s struggling to process what’s happening. She must know that Emily is hurt and afraid, which scares me. I don’t want Sophie to have these kinds of memories.

And I don’t know what Emily has brought into my house. Who hurt her? And is that person going to hurt us?

I turn to my daughter, trying to keep the fear out of my voice. “Sophie, why don’t you go upstairs and choose a nice fluffy towel for Emily?”

She nods gravely, taking the responsibility seriously as she walks away.

“S-sorry,” Emily says, watching Sophie go. “This is an inconvenience for you.”

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, now tell me what’s going on.” I regard the cut on Emily’s eyebrow and the bruising already forming around her eye. “What happened?”

She starts to cry and places her head in her hands.

“It’s okay,” I say. “I won’t judge you.”

But she shakes her head. “I can’t…”

“Was it your husband?”

A sob racks through her. She nods before lifting her head and sniffing. “Steve’s been all wound up since we moved. The upheaval makes him a little crazy.” She sighs. “He thought I’d been out to see a man.”

I look at her, taking in the thin slip dress, which could even be a nightie, the bruised face, the skin tinged with blue from the cold. Only a deranged man could do this to a young woman. Unfortunately, I’ve also had my fair share of dealing with a deranged man. Some of the fear is replaced by a sudden burst of rage.

“I’m going to call the police.” I stand to get my phone, but she grabs me by the wrist and pulls me back.

“No, please… please don’t do that! I don’t want to get him in trouble.”

I crouch down so that we’re face to face. “You begged me to let you in because you thought he was going to kill you! And you want to protect that piece of shit?”

“Amber, please. He’s still my husband. Just… can we just wait a little while. I want to get cleaned up.” She lets out a long, shuddering breath. “I’m so cold.”

“I’ll grab a first aid kit and see to your brow.” I frown. “I don’t know if you need stitches…”

She shakes her head. “It’s fine. I’ll be okay. I would ice the bruise but I’m already cold enough.” She smiles thinly.

“Once I’ve cleaned that wound you could get in a hot bath and I’ll find you some warm clothes.”

“You promise not to call the police?” She stares up at me with the pleading eyes of a tiny kitten. Something soft shifts inside me and I nod.

“I promise, Emily.”

Deep down I know there’s a chance I’ll break the promise. If at any point I feel like Sophie’s in danger, I will call them without feeling any sort of guilt about it. This is a safe house, but I know how relentless men like Steve can be. Mentally, I make a plan. The snow will cause problems if we need the police right away. But we can all hide in the safe room if we need to. It’s steel-reinforced and there’s a security screen to watch the cameras around the house.

My sweet girl walks in carrying a pink towel, her mouth open slightly as though still shocked by what she’s seeing.

“It’s okay, Soph. Emily’s okay, she’s just a little wet and cold. She had an accident on the way here, and we’re going to help her feel better. Why don’t you sit down on the sofa and watch your show for a little bit.”

Sophie doesn’t move; she remains staring at Emily.

“It’s okay,” Emily says. “I’m fine, I promise.”

This time Sophie smiles and does what I suggested. I give her a quick kiss on the forehead and gesture for Emily to follow me through to the kitchen. The harsh yellow glow of the lights turns her pale skin sallow. Under the bright glow I notice mascara stains running down her cheeks. I can’t help but wonder why Emily is wearing such a flimsy silk dress on a night like tonight. Even indoors I would be too cold in that.

I grab the first aid kit and set it out on the table, remembering the night when Mum tended to Dad’s black eye. The memory is too painful, so I blink it away, reaching for the wound cleaning wipes I keep in the kit. My first aid kit is extensive, including QuickClot bandages for gunshot wounds.

Emily wraps the towel around her shoulders and pulls the blanket tighter. She barely winces at the wipe, and I wonder if she has been through this before.

Her teeth finally stop chattering, but she speaks quietly, like we’re at church. “You must think so little of me.”

“I don’t judge.”

“I wouldn’t blame you if you did. We’re always told to leave a man like… like Steve. Staying is weakness.”

I move the wipe gently across her cut until it appears to be clean. Then I grab a dressing to apply. “I don’t think you’re weak. I don’t know your circumstances. All I know is that he’s violent and for that reason I don’t like him.”

“That’s fair. I don’t like him very much at the moment either.”

I sigh. “Are you sure you don’t want to go to the hospital? Did you fall? With the baby⁠—”

“I didn’t fall. The baby’s fine. I feel fine.”

“All done.” I move back from her face. “Do you want me to run a bath?”

She shakes her head. “I’m worried the hot water will make me bleed again. Could I maybe borrow some clothes? Is it okay to stay here a bit longer?”

“Why don’t you head upstairs to my room? I’d better stay with Sophie, but you can help yourself to anything in my wardrobe. There are warm jumpers in the chest of drawers.”

“This is so kind, Amber, honestly. I’m so glad I met you today.” Her voice cracks and she blinks away tears.

I give her hand a quick squeeze as she’s on her way to the hallway. “Emily, does Steve know you’re here? Is there any chance he might turn up here?”

She shakes her head. “He’s drunk so he’s probably passed out in the house somewhere.”

I’m not sure if that’s a comfort or not, but while she’s upstairs, I check the cameras outside to make sure he didn’t follow her. I still can’t shake the sour feeling in the pit of my stomach. Before Peter Harlow I never had good instincts about anyone. Honey was the one who picked up on tiny clues or seemed to be able to predict the future. I doubt Honey would have even answered the doorbell, she would have closed the curtains and pretended not to be in.

But I don’t like to think about my sister for too long. That pain is not one I can endure.