Chapter Eight

The Consequences of Violence

Savannah’s eyes fluttered open. Her cheeks were sticky from crying herself to sleep. For one fleeting, blissful moment, last night’s events did not exist. Like all good things, this moment did not last, and the unbidden images of Jeremy holding the knife with a deranged, twisted grin banished the peace from her mind. In the gloom, these images were all she could see.

As best she could, and fighting against her shaking frame, she got up and dressed for school. The best thing she could do was get on with things (if she could manage to) and try to avoid having a breakdown at school.

One thing that brought her comfort was that it was Friday, though she was too numb to be enticed by the prospect of a recovery weekend. However, she briefly considered that perhaps she and Lauren could do something, go away somewhere… far away from home.

Then she remembered - the chances of that were low. Lauren was still in a mood with her.

‘Fuck,’ she muttered to herself, trying her best to push that pain away, too, in an attempt to escape the persistent wish for Lauren’s company and conversation.

She checked her phone; there were messages, but none from Lauren. She felt a tug in her gut and launched her phone onto the bed. She clutched her head in her hands, her mind replete with the beliefs that everything was too much, that it wouldn’t get better, that it would always be like this…

She sat down on the end of her bed, determined not to cry, hard as it was to avoid. She had never felt worse - how could her father do that to her? She didn’t care that he was drunk, that didn’t make a difference. If he could stop himself doing such abhorrent things sober, he could do so drunk. Or, perhaps it had been a matter of time before he was tipped over the edge. Perhaps him doing something like this was an inevitability.

She couldn’t bring herself to care about rational explanations (or any explanation at all) at this moment. To her, all that mattered was the reality that her father had slashed at her with a knife and that slash was meant for her chest and… had she not dodged it, it could have been fatal. The intent was there, and that cut far deeper than the wound itself.

She ran a hand over her cheek. The cut was plastered; she removed the dressing and gently stroked the gash.

As she did so, she felt something snap in her chest. She clutched at her ribs, the pain of the betrayal unbearable. She lay back and her tears ran in colourless, crystal streaks into her hair. A wave of nausea hit her, her head and chest ached. Her mind was in a haze, as though a dense fog had descended, only penetrated by Jeremy’s psychotic grin.

Her heart yearned for him to return, for him to become the father that he’d never been, to forgive him, to have him hold her as he’d never done, even when she’d been a child, to have him kiss her on the forehead and tell her it was all going to be okay… he would never be capable of that. That in itself was another dagger to her heart.

She couldn’t alleviate her grievances, either. There was no Lauren around to aid in processing her grief.

‘Does anyone even care anymore?’ Savannah sobbed to herself, voice breaking.

She fell back into her bed, and wrapped herself in her duvet, crying soundlessly into her pillow. After an eternity, sleep came - she needed it. Not because she was tired, but because the pain of being awake was too severe to cope with.

*

‘Harm her EVER again and I will make sure you pay for it in the most painful way imaginable,’ the text message read.

Jeremy necked his double rum in one gulp and signalled to the bartender for a refill. The message took a while to soak into his drunken, clouded mind. The screen of his mobile phone was fuzzy, to the extent that he could barely make the text out, much less identify its sender. It was late in the evening, and he had returned to the same pub he had frequented prior to last night’s drama. He guzzled down the refilled glass the bartender placed in front of him.

Why should he care about what he’d done? The bitch deserved it. His daughter or not, no one had the right to question him in such a way. He was sick of the brats disobeying him, particularly that one, and commanding him in his own home. Perhaps now they wouldn’t be so bold. He was certain that, at the very least, hurting Savannah would have Lyra back in his grasp; she wouldn’t dare speak against him now.

If I’d wanted to kill her, she’d be dead by now - I’d have done it long ago, he thought to himself.

The reality was, while he did not regret his actions... he was petrified by them. That was the true reason he’d spent this entire night in the pub despite winding the entire day away there - not only had he sobered up more than he’d like, but he was also balls-to-the-wall terrified, and the single way that he could evade that fear was to drown himself with a surge in alcohol consumption. What scared him most was his desire to finish the job; it was becoming as irritating as an itch he had the inability to scratch.

He’d been alive a long time and never before had he felt so volatile; never before had he felt like a passenger in his own body, his sadism controlling him, his violent urges the main motivator for his behaviour, his mind blank and unthinking, only awakening to deal with the consequences of his actions, rather than preventing them in the first place. Not that he’d try. If he had those urges, he’d sate them. Someone else would have to clean up the mess.

He didn’t know why he’d aimed to do it, but he’d had the intention to kill. If that had happened once, who was to say that it wouldn’t happen again?

‘Hopefully, my liver will give out before we find out if that’s the case,’ he muttered to himself. He cackled.

This rage… This loss of control… The black shadows that clouded his senses and left him powerless over his actions... It would be the end of him.

*

Lauren wasted no time leaving her English lesson that afternoon; Savannah hadn’t turned up to any of their lessons today. Lauren had texted her multiple times during the day but had received no reply. Savannah was no rookie when it came to truancy, but whenever she planned on, or was in the process of, missing a lesson, she replied to texts.

As such, her radio silence was causing Lauren to worry, even to feel guilty, though the latter was quashed - true, she had been blunt with her the day prior, but she’d had other things to deal with that didn’t concern Savannah, and she didn’t see it as unreasonable to expect that Savannah would take it on the chin, rather than getting all sensitive about it. And, if that was the reason she’d decided to bunk off school… well, the kid was getting a kick up the arse, that was for sure.

It was the end of the school day and, as usual, she planned to visit the Glasco-Masons and check on Savannah anyway, but she reasoned it was best to accost Alexis and find out what was going on in preparation.

She tracked down Alexis as her class filtered out of their maths classroom, as loud and patience-grinding as Alexis’s year always was (especially at the end of the school day, when they were at their highest volume and most agitating) and, resisting the urge to kick several in the shins on her way through, Lauren grabbed Alexis by the arm and pulled her around the corner, out of earshot.

‘Woah, woah, woah, what’s with the manhandling? I didn’t give you consent for that!’

‘What’s up with Savannah? She didn’t turn up to any lessons today or reply to my texts. Sure, I can understand her skipping a lesson, but she never doesn’t reply.’

Alexis sighed and fixed Lauren with an exasperated look which conveyed she believed such aggression was unnecessary. ‘I don’t know why you worry so much. She’s fine, she just had a bad night with Jeremy, that’s all.’

Lauren’s fingers went to her parted lips. ‘What? Did he hit her again?!’

‘Well, kind of, yes. Although... no, not kind of at all. Actually, he did sort of hit her, just…’ She looked up at the ceiling and moved her lips, trying to work out the mechanics. ‘... with a knife rather than his fist, so in a way... she’s not hurt badly!’ Alexis hurried, seeing Lauren’s face. ‘He was just pissed and they had an... altercation. She’s just got a cut on her cheek, that’s all. Jeremy’s been kicked out, Savannah’s probably been in bed all day or something, always does when she’s feeling sorry for herself. By now I’m sure she’s fine. Sorry, I did mean to tell you but… I forgot,’ Alexis shrugged.

Lauren shook her head. She felt another twinge of guilt for being so self-absorbed as to think Savannah’s pain and absence was her fault and that she was being her usual, sensitive self. The guilt mingled with fury at Jeremy. Still, she could have punched Alexis into next week. ‘How on earth could you forget to tell me that?!’

‘I don’t know, shit happens man,’ Alexis said, spreading out her arms with a nonchalant visage. Clocking the furious expression Lauren wore, she said, ‘she’s fine! Honestly, come on! Let’s go get Theo, then you can see her for yourself if you’re that bothered. I promise you, though, she’ll just be moping!’

Lauren glowered at her then gestured for Alexis to walk with her.

*

Savannah’s bedroom door creaked open and Theo crept in on his tiptoes - Savannah was still asleep and he didn’t want to wake her, but he was desperate to check on her.

Theo gazed at Savannah’s sleeping form. It was blatant, even to him, that something was wrong. Of course, he had no idea what Jeremy had done, but knew enough to suspect Jeremy was the cause.

Theo lay next to Savannah, extending one of his thin arms, and wrapped it around her.

This was enough to make Savannah stir and her eyes half-opened. She saw Theo and gave him a small smile before encasing him in her arms.

‘Are you okay, Savvy?’ he murmured against her. She nodded, shielding her face from him.

Theo murmured and lay quiet. Savannah, with no intention of going back to sleep, lay there unmoving and unfocused, staring into space. She let the moments slip by, just her and Theo.

After a short while, her door opened once more, and the form of Lauren slipped in, her face a mask of concern. Savannah opened her eyes again and they softened - as implausible as it was, she felt Lauren had heard her pleas for support she’d made this morning. She smiled as an unfamiliar warmth (that was becoming strangely familiar the more time she spent with Lauren) stirred in her chest.

‘Hey, Theo?’

Theo extricated his head from her.

‘Why don’t you go downstairs and watch TV so Lauren and I can talk?’

His body sagged. ‘But-but-but, I want to stay with you and make sure you’re alright,’ he said, stubbornness diluting the sadness in his tone.

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Savannah gave him a stern, but sarcastic, look. ‘Come on, do as you’re told, you cheeky thing.’ Theo looked miserable, so she changed tack and smiled. ‘Go on, I promise I’m fine. I’ll be downstairs shortly, okay?’

He still refused to budge. Lauren grinned by the door and Savannah sighed. ‘Fine, if you go downstairs then tomorrow I’ll buy you a nice big bag of sweets. How does that sound?’

He leapt from the bed. ‘Yeah, please! Can I have skittles?!’

Savannah half-smiled. ‘Yes, you can have skittles. Go!’

He left the room beaming from ear to ear. Lauren ruffled his hair as he launched past her. She watched as he bounded down the stairs, then shut the door and faced Savannah.

Savannah, still smiling, was shocked to find herself weeping. Lauren was there, arms enveloping Savannah as she let loose her lament, where they remained for an hour.

Eventually, the tears stopped, and Savannah regained some composure. She was exhausted; that single cry had sapped her of all her remaining energy. Her limbs leaden and heavy, she removed herself from Lauren’s arms and rested her head on her pillow, lying on her side. Lauren lay down next to her.

‘Do you want to talk about it?’ she asked, her expression soft and considerate. ‘Alexis told me - well, more mentioned briefly in passing - what happened.’

Savannah hesitated and was on the verge of shaking her head, but Lauren spoke again. ‘It’s good to talk. If you don’t, everything you feel just stays in your body and becomes toxic. When you eventually do come around to talking about it, it’s a thousand times worse. Particularly with shit like this. You know I will lie here with you as long as I need to and let you sob for as long as you need to.’

That almost set Savannah off once more. Uncertain as to whether she could bring herself to talk about everything, and doubting her ability to put the immense pain that she felt into coherent words, she was reluctant to open up. But, she could trust Lauren, so she agreed. ‘Okay.’

Lauren pulled the blanket up to her shoulders. Savannah gave her a quizzical look. ‘Well, I assume we’re gonna be here a while, so I may as well get comfortable. So, take your time. I’ve got all night, and so do you, actually - Lyra’s home, she took a couple of hours off from work so you didn’t have to look after the others. So… why not start by walking me through what happened last night?’

Eventually, Savannah steeled herself and began. ‘Well… the first time, I got Theo all settled and made his dinner and all of that… then I was making our dinner and Je-Jer-,’ her breath hitched; just saying his name was like taking a dagger to her own heart.

‘He came home. He was… hammered, as per usual, staggering all about the place... I’d told him to sleep it off and once again… he didn’t like that. He started spouting off essentially the same stuff he was screaming the night before… that he-he- regretted…’

She whimpered and took another few seconds to settle herself. Lauren placed an encouraging hand on her arm, intensifying the warmth in Savannah’s chest as it fought against a potent, frozen darkness.

‘He said that he regretted that I’d been born, that he could kill me and fix that problem, which is when he picked up the… k-kn-k...’ She snapped her eyes shut, Jeremy’s demonic grin swimming into her mental view. ‘Then he said… ‘there's no Lauren to protect you now’... and he swung. He aimed for my chest but I managed to move back in time and he got my cheek instead… then… the rest is, like, hazy... but he was on the ground - I’m not sure how he ended up there - and I vaguely remember… hitting him with a pan, I think. Next thing I know, I’m lying here in bed.’

The warmth in Savannah’s chest penetrated the darkness within her and she already felt ten pounds lighter. But, something more plagued her.

‘I suppose… I kind of brought it on myself because of what I’d said the night before about us being better off without him, all of that…’

Lauren shook her head and gripped Savannah’s arm with an urgency. ‘Listen to me - do not think that. You did not bring this on yourself. Not one fibre of you deserved what he did. No parent should ever speak to their child the way he does, never mind the rest of the stuff that he’s done over the years. And now he’s decided he can take a knife to his own bloody daughter?! The twat will rot in hell for the rest of existence for this, Sav, because it’s his fault. You understand me?’

Savannah looked at her, looking away as fast. ‘But… if I hadn’t stood up to him the night before… or last night… if I’d just let him go about the house instead… it wouldn’t have happened…’

Lauren turned Savannah’s head with a finger so that she had to look her in the eyes. ‘It was likely to happen at some point, all you have to look at for confirmation of that is that it did, and if it wasn’t going to happen to you, he would have pulled the knife on Lyra. Or Alex. Aaron. God forbid, he could have pulled it on Theo. But he didn’t, it was you, and I know that it’s little consolation right now, but it wasn’t about you. He’s desperate; he knows that you’re all better off without him, that he’s the problem. He’s determined to live in his delusion that you’re all deserving of the way that he treats you, so he turned to violence to compensate for that. Luckily... he chose the baddest bitch who was always gonna make sure he missed,’ she flashed a smile.

Savannah returned it, and the darkness and pain dissipated further. She moved closer to Lauren and went in for a hug, nuzzling her shoulder, allowing the weight to lift from her soul, at least temporarily. For the first time in a while, she felt some semblance of safety.

They separated after a few minutes and Savannah shrank back into the covers.

‘Go on,’ Lauren probed.

Voice breaking, she continued. ‘He’s my dad. It was… it wasn’t meant to be like this, surely? No one should ha-have parents that are violent or abusive in any way, should they? I know they say that when you grow up in an abusive household the abuse becomes normalised… and Alexis expects me not to feel like this because she doesn’t, but... it… everything with him… all the years of the same shit… it makes me feel like we’re all fucked before we even get a chance to live our lives because our parents aren’t able to cope and resort to taking their anger out on us as completely helpless children, y’know what I mean?

Like… we’re brought into this world and before we even know how to deal with anything, have any maturity, we’re subjected to horrendous, traumatic experiences at the hands of the people that are supposed to look after and protect us until we go into our adult lives… I feel like… it’s hopeless, you know what I mean? How are we supposed to trust anyone if our parents can’t be trusted? How is Th-Theo meant to go into the big, wide world after all of this? All because our dad is a monster?’

She took a brief pause and brought her thoughts together as the words she spoke expressed years-old views she never imagined telling anyone.

‘Obviously, I have this image of what my dad is supposed to be and how he’s supposed to care, look after me, make me laugh, take us all out together on family trips... while it might be unreasonable to hope that those expectations were met all of the time… it sure as hell would be nice for them to be met in some way some of the time, rather than having to deal with all this bloody shit from the man that’s always supposed to have protected and fucking lo-loved -’

She couldn’t help herself. Her voice broke and she launched into racking, terrified sobs. Lauren even began to tear up - she could understand where Savannah was coming from.

‘You’re doing amazing. Recognising all of this now and realising that it’s not okay and it’s not normal and that you deserve better… I am so, so proud of you. It’ll be okay, I promise. And it’s little consolation right now, I know that, but… if you can see the bottom, you’ve got no room to fall. Only up from here.’

*

Later on, Savannah showered, cleaned up her face, and pulled herself together. With no energy to make any more effort, she dressed in an oversized hoodie and tracksuit bottoms. After getting frustrated with it intruding her eyesight, she tied her hair into a high ponytail.

As Savannah trudged down the stairs with Lauren, the delightful aroma of Lyra’s homemade youvetsi filled her nostrils and her spirits lifted. Youvetsi, a Greek dish comprised of beef stew in a divine tomato sauce (which none but Lyra could replicate) with orzo pasta and cheese, was one of many Greek cuisines that Katerina, Savannah’s grandmother, had taught Lyra to cook when she was Savannah’s age. It was a Glasco-Mason favourite, not least because it was a rarity; the occasions they’d experience their mother’s delicious cooking were when Lyra took time off from work, and that in itself was a scarce phenomenon.

Savannah and Lauren rounded the bannister and walked into the dining room, where they found Alexis, Aaron, and Theo already waiting for their food. Theo hopped off his chair and ran straight for Savannah, almost knocking the breath out of her as he leapt into her arms. She thought she’d seen a flicker of scepticism cross Alexis's features, but it vanished before she could confirm it. Aaron, looking awkward, rose as well. He crossed the room and held Savannah in a tight, wordless hug. When they separated, he returned to his seat beside Alexis, who looked at him and raised an eyebrow but didn’t speak.

Savannah placed Theo back on the floor and he grabbed her hand and dragged her over to the seat beside his own. He pointed at it with his other hand and said, ‘you’re gonna sit there,’ then he pointed to the seat on Savannah’s left and turned to Lauren, ‘and you’re gonna sit there.’

Savannah and Lauren laughed and did as they were told. Theo waited until they’d sat down - more to make sure they followed his command than out of courtesy - before retaking his seat on Savannah’s right.

Lyra came through with a hot, steaming clay oven and Savannah’s mouth watered as the aroma strengthened. Lyra passed around plates and waited for them all to serve themselves before loading her own. Her eyes were less fatigued tonight and she moved with more freedom, like she too had a huge weight lifted from her shoulders. In fact, by her standards, she seemed ecstatic.

Without bothering to speak, they dug in, savouring the delight Lyra had whipped up.

After twenty minutes, during which they ate in a silence only broken twice for fits of laughter when Theo spilled some pasta on his uniform, the lot of them sat back in their high backed, cushioned wooden chairs; relaxed, full, and in need of a nap.

It was exactly the tonic that Savannah needed: to be together with her family in a calm, warm, loving environment.

*

Once her children had been fed and watered, Lyra changed into one of her best skirts and a smart shirt, looking like the stunning, high-flying lawyer she’d spent her life working towards becoming. Without a goodbye, she grabbed the file she’d hidden in her handbag and snuck out of the house.

Earlier that evening, she had parked the car around the corner of the street, rather than in the driveway, so that the children wouldn’t realise she’d left. This wasn’t something she wanted to involve them in. At least, not tonight. Not when they had shared such a pleasant evening together. She could delay the news for a while.

She drove into town and parked her car a short distance from the local Wetherspoons pub. It was just after 11 pm, so Jeremy would doubtless be here. She’d told him to stay with a friend (over text) after his assault on Savannah, but she knew he wouldn’t be there. He’d be in the pub the duration of its opening hours. As it was a Friday, and these hours were extended, he’d have plenty of time to drown the sorrows she was to put on him.

She made her way to the pub, her immaculate heels clacking against the cobbles. When she reached the doors, she was slightly offended that the bouncers didn’t ask for her ID, but let it slide.

She wasn’t oblivious to the stares she received as she walked through the pub, past the youngsters who weren’t enjoying the effects of just alcohol that evening, and the elderly men who sat in the corners and spent all day in here if they could. She was far too classy for this place and each of the patrons knew it. Not that she believed it: inside, she’d rather be anywhere else and she wasn’t feeling at all confident. She was full of trepidation, her heart was pounding out of her chest, her palms were sweaty, and her brain was fogged and confused; her thoughts refused to come in cohesion.

Nevertheless, she continued to the darkest corner at the back of the pub. Here, her pathetic excuse of a husband sat, dozing off in a drunken stupor, his hair ruffled, and his clothes creased. Empty glasses teetered on the table around him in a haphazard line. He reeked of booze.

She sank into the seat opposite him. Her upper lip curled at his pungent odour.

‘Jeremy.’

‘Huh? Whosat?’ He lurched upright. It took a moment for him to focus, but he managed to regain some form of awareness. ‘Lyra? Wha’ are you doing ‘ere?’

Expressionless and silent, trying her best to keep her hands from shaking, she hurled the brown file onto the table. Jeremy shrank back into his chair, throwing a dirty glance at the file, his cocky smile slapped back on his face. ‘Wha’s this?’

Lyra took a deep breath and stared right at him, unyielding (even though her heart was going a million miles an hour). ‘Divorce proceedings,’ she answered, troubling to keep her voice steady.

‘Div-? Eh?!’

‘You heard me,’ she answered. ‘You attacked my daughter. Even without all the years of the other hell that you’ve put us through, there’s more than enough justification for divorce on that alone. This has been a long time coming and we both know it. I know that you’ll be selfish about it, but please do try to think of the children whom you’ve subjected to violent attacks.’

Jeremy gaped at her, his eyes popping out of their sockets.

‘I’ll take you for ever’thin’ you ‘ave, you bitch!’ he growled, rising from his chair.

As she expected, there wasn’t a shred of remorse - or even sadness - within him.

‘No, you won’t, I’m afraid. And, look, you’re proving my point - determined to take as much from me as you can rather than making it easier on everyone. All you’ve done is take from me - you can’t take any more, Jeremy, I’ve had enough. I’m going to pack up the rest of your things and drop them off at Rob’s tomorrow. And… don’t come home again, or I’ll call the police.’

With one last look of sheer disgust at her reprehensible husband, she left her seat and then the pub.

Lyra reached her car and released a tremendous sigh of relief. The culmination of their god-awful marriage was close. All the years of hell were at an end. From now on, it would just be her and her children. Part of her screamed for her to return to Jeremy, to apologise, and to tell him she wouldn’t pursue the divorce proceedings. She repressed it.

Tears fell as Lyra reflected on a feeling of joy she hadn’t experienced for decades.