To Catch a Butterfly Page 24

  She pulled her knees up and curled into a ball. She could only imagine what Catherine was thinking. Two days. How long would it be before Frank would let her leave the house? She sobbed until she fell into restless sleep.

  CHAPTER EIGHTY FOUR

  Catherine jumped at the sound of the doorbell; she hurried from the kitchen and flung the door open. “Oh Christ, Helen!” She put a hand to her mouth at the sight of Helen standing there, dark black bruises under her eyes.

  “I can’t stay long.” She immediately began to sob and Catherine took her hand, pulling her gently into the hallway. She looked into Helen’s eyes, her own, full of tears. “What has he done to you?” She gently took Helen in her arms and held her, her tall frame protective over her, like a willow draping, a shelter from the rain, from the storm. “Please don’t go back to him, stay here with me.” She cried, kissing the top of Helen’s head. She guided her into the living room and sat her on the sofa, kneeling in front of her. “I knew something was wrong, I just knew.” She felt her chest closing in, “What did he do?”

  “I can’t stay, he’s gone out and if he gets back and finds me gone, he’ll go mad.” She slipped her hand into Catherine’s. They both knew the risk she had taken to be there.

  “Helen, I beg you not to go back to him, I’ll look after you, I’ll always look after you, I promise you. I love you Helen, I really love you.”

  “I have to go back, he’ll kill me, he’ll kill my parents. I just had to see you.” She stood up, her head ached. Her heart ached.

  Catherine pushed herself up, they held each other and Helen lifted her face towards Catherine’s, their lips meeting, hardly touching. They closed their eyes and for just one moment there was nothing else. Just them, just the two of them.

  “Do you really love me?” Helen spoke, then pushed her lips harder against Catherine’s, their kiss was long, passionate, their hearts exploding, their bodies aching.

  “Yes.” Catherine finally answered, breathing quickly, her eyes searching Helen’s. “I really do.”

  Helen ran her hand through the back of Catherine’s hair, she could feel her body trembling as she reached up to kiss her once again, this time it was different, she wanted more, she slowly slid her hand up Catherine’s back and felt Catherine arch slightly as Helen’s hand moved up to her neck. And then she stopped.

  “What the hell’s going on, how come I feel like this about you. What does it mean?” Helen pushed her head into Catherine’s chest. “I want you to take me to bed.” She looked into Catherine’s eyes, “I want to make love with you.” She spoke softly, her whole body tensed and longing.

  Catherine’s eyes filled with tears, she slipped her arms around Helen’s waist. “I could take you to my bed right now and the only thing holding me back is that I don’t want to complicate your life Helen. And I don’t want you to be in any more danger than you already are, by coming here.”

  They looked at each other, “I just know I need you near me.” Helen whispered. “One day we’ll be together won’t we?” Her eyes searching Catherine’s face.

  “One day.” Catherine held her close, closing her eyes.

  And then she was gone.

  CHAPTER EIGHTY FIVE

  For the next few months they stole afternoons together, talking of a future they could only dream of. They laughed and they cried, Helen cut her hair and Catherine healed her wounds.

  They drove to secluded beaches in Catherine’s little green sports car, she took photographs of Helen skimming stones and Helen took photographs of her dipping her toes in the sea, picking flowers and leaning up against a tree, smiling, happy. They picnicked in the woods and walked in the rain. And then Catherine would drop her at a bus stop and Helen would return home. Back to the monster.

  She had got a job at a café three days a week and Catherine would come in, sit by the window and drink coffee, smiling at Helen when no one was looking. She watched her work, talking to the customers, smiling. All the while Catherine knew that her clothing covered bruises left by her bastard husband.

  Catherine never went to her house, never phoned her and Helen kept every gift that Catherine bought her in a box under Catherine’s bed. “Maybe one day I won’t have to hide these at your house.” She would say.

  “One day.” Catherine would say. “One day.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTY SIX

  “My car’s going into the garage this afternoon, there’s something wrong with the gears.” Catherine told Helen as they sat drinking coffee in Catherine’s living room, “I could meet you on Wednesday if you want, by the fountain in town?”

  “Okay, what time?” Helen reached over her and set down her coffee mug on the half moon table next to her.

  “Whatever time you can make it, I’ll wait for you.”

  “You would, wouldn’t you, wait for me I mean. You’d wait hours and hours if you had to.” Helen took her hand and ran her thumb across it.

  “I’d wait years and years if I had to.” Catherine replied.

  “I know you would.” Helen said softly. “And that’s why I love you.” She reached a hand up to Catherine’s face.

  Catherine kissed her fingers. “I love you too.”

  Helen smiled. “Have you only ever been with women?” She asked, moving closer to her.

  “Yes, luckily they don’t burn us at the stake anymore.” She grinned.

  “But men must have asked you out on dates, I mean you are very attractive, you really are.” Helen’s eyes sparkled.

  “I’ve been asked out by a few, but I guess I knew I was gay when I was about nine. I fell hopelessly in love with a girl who lived down my road, I used to fix her bike for her.” Catherine smiled at the memory.

  “How sweet. Did she break your heart?”

  “She did. She rode off on that bike with Jimmy Mulgrew.” They both laughed.

  “I’d better go soon, it’s nearly lunchtime, I’ve got a million things to do at home.” She kissed Catherine gently and slowly and then again she was gone.

  Helen arrived home to the sound of Frank’s digger engine running in the back yard, chucking out smoke as it stood there. Helen stepped outside and went over to it, as she got nearer she heard Frank cursing to himself. She made her way round the digger forks and saw Frank standing in a six foot long freshly dug trench.

  “What’s going on?” Helen asked.

  Without hearing her, Frank looked up, “Jesus!” He scowled at her, “You shouldn’t creep up on people like that, what the fuck are you doing?”

  “Sorry, I thought you saw me.” Helen peered into the trench; he was neck high and covered in dirt. She felt drops of rain falling. “What are you doing?”

  “Baking a fucking cake, what does it look like I’m doing, where have you fucking been anyway?” He reached up and tried to pull himself out. The rain spattered on the ground and his hands slipped. “Fuck, pass me that ladder.” He pointed over to a wooden ladder standing propped up against the rickety shed that stood a few feet away.

  Helen turned and looked over to where he pointed. “Why are you digging a big hole?” She looked back at him.

  “To fucking bury you in, what do you think it’s for, pass me the fucking ladder woman!”

  Helen hesitated, looking at him; the rain began to fall harder.

  “What are you waiting for? Get the fucking ladder, Jesus it’s not fucking difficult!”

  Helen stared at him, his face, angry, his words, evil, she slowly turned, hesitated and then pulled herself up into the digger, looking at him all the while.

  “What are you fucking doing!?” He screamed at her, his face contorted with anger.

  Helen sat there for a moment watching him. Confusion in his eyes, the noise of the engine blocking out his obscenities,

  “What’s my name Frank!?” She shouted at him, the veins in her neck bulging, her heart thundering, fast, heavy, thumping in her chest. “What’s my name?!” Her hands shook uncontrollably, her head dizzy, nausea welled up inside her, her mouth
dried instantly, the moment consumed her.

  Frank’s expression suddenly changed, “Come on, just get the ladder!” As he spoke, he grasped at the top of the hole, his hands slipping in the mud, he desperately tried to get a foothold, he kicked his foot hard into the wall of the trench, trying to make a ledge so he could step up and out, but his boot slipped again and again, he looked up at Helen who stared at him, he had seen her face full of fear before, seen her cry, but right now something was different, she looked different, with rain in his eyes he could feel his chest tighten with fury, and it took everything he had inside of him not to scream at her, he forced a smile. “Ok very funny, now get the ladder.” His voice shook.

  Helen gripped the steering wheel and without taking her eyes from his she pulled herself upwards, and holding onto the roll bar she took a deep breath, as she took the first step down, she saw his face turn to fire, his fists, sodden with wet mud were clenched, his shoulders angled forwards, he began to nod slowly, Helen knew that he would hurt her now, without a doubt, he would really hurt her. She closed her eyes for a second and when she opened them, he was looking down; his shoulders were now rising and falling as he breathed deeply, just like a thousand times before. Just like it always was when he was about to lose control. Helen quickly reached back into the cab and deftly grabbed the controls, raising the forks, she looked blankly at him as he suddenly looked up, wet hair flicked across his forehead and his mouth opened, wide eyes full of sheer panic, Frank Samuels had never experienced fear in his whole life, never knew how it felt, just how to instil it into his wife, the wife that now instilled it into him, the wife that knew how he felt right at that moment, he tried to cry out, and then the forks smashed down, cracking into his skull. He dropped down like a rag doll thrown to the floor by an insolent child. Helen sat staring down at him. She knew he was dead. She turned the engine off, stepped over to the trench and looked down. Frank was laying awkwardly, his arms tucked under him, his legs cramped into the narrow space. Helen watched the rain tumbling down onto him.

  “Dug your own grave, you fuck.” She said under her breath. “You cruel, evil fucker!” She screamed. And for the first time since she’d married him, she wasn’t terrified of his reaction. He had no reaction, he would never hurt her again, never rape her, never leave her on the kitchen floor sobbing and begging him to stop kicking her, never spit at her, never make her shake with fear at the sound of his footsteps coming up the stairs. She shook her head, “You fucking bastard!”

  Then she felt her legs shaking, the cold rain hit her and she stepped back to steady herself, gripping the digger roll bar. She felt her chest tighten and she began to hyperventilate. She’d killed her husband, she’d killed him. He was dead. She stumbled into the house, her whole body shook and her teeth were chattering. She looked around the kitchen trying to think about what she was going to do. She finally sat down, with her head in her hands and screamed into them, muffled screams of panic.

  She sat there for two hours, her mind racing, sudden pains shot through her chest as the enormity of what she had done began to sink in.

  CHAPTER EIGHTY SEVEN

  Catherine rested her feet on her coffee table and closed her eyes as the sound of Albinoni’s Adagio drifted through the house, she tutted as the telephone rang, it was always the way, just as she’d sat down to relax.

  “Hello.” She answered cheerfully.

  “Catherine, it’s me.” Helen’s voice was almost unrecognisable.

  Catherine sat up. “Helen, what’s wrong?” She pressed the receiver close to her ear.

  “I’ve killed him.” Helen began to sob, heavy sobs down the phone.

  “What?!” Catherine wasn’t sure she’d heard it right.

  “I’ve killed him, he’s dead, I need you. I don’t know what to do.” Her voice was full of panic.

  “Where is he, Helen, where is he right now?” Catherine tried to sound calm.

  “In the yard, in the hole in the yard, he was digging a hole for me, he said it was for me, I hit him with the forks, I don’t know what to do, Catherine, I don’t know what to do.” Helen stuttered.

  “Okay, listen to me, I’m going to come over, I just need directions to your house from the road, is it off the dirt track by Elson’s Lane, is that the one?” Catherine’s voice was low.

  ‘Yes, yes, how quickly can you be here, I need you, what’s going to happen to me Catherine? I’m going to prison aren’t I?........... I need you here.”

  “I’ll be there very soon, just stay where you are.” Catherine suddenly remembered her car was in the garage, “Helen, I’ll be there as soon as I can, I’ve got to get a taxi, I haven’t got my car, don’t worry about anything, I’ll be there before you know it.”

  “Ok.” Helen replied.

  Catherine waited until Helen put the phone down and then pulled on her boots, grabbed her keys and purse, as she opened the front door sheets of rain swept across her porch. She turned back and pulled her long dark coat off of the coat rack, put it on and headed out. As she walked, she felt dizzy, it all seemed surreal, she headed quickly to the taxi rank, normally a fifteen minute walk, she made it in half the time. When she reached it, she was relieved to see two cabs sitting there. She asked the driver to take her to the King’s Head Pub, Helen’s house was a short walk from there; she didn’t want the cab driver to know her real destination.

  “Shocking weather isn’t it miss?” The cab driver commented on the rain which bucketed against the windscreen.

  “Yes.” Catherine looked out of the window, trying to discourage small talk. She tipped him and jumped out, heading for the pub door and then turning away as he drove off out of sight.

  Her heart pounded as she approached Helen’s house. Helen opened the front door as soon as Catherine reached it and fell into her arms. “Thank God you’re here, what have I done?” She buried her head into Catherine’s chest.

  “It’s okay, I’m here now darling, I’m here now.” Catherine wrapped her arms around her and held her tightly, “We’ll work it out.”

  “We’ll have to tell the police won’t we?” Helen looked up at her. “I’ll go to prison for the rest of my life.” She said slowly, her whole body shaking.

  Catherine pulled her closer, “No, you won’t, we’ll work something out, have you rung anyone else?”

  “No, just you. Why?”

  “I just wondered. I’m going to go and see him, you stay here. Have you got a torch?” Catherine followed Helen’s pointed finger and picked up the heavy rubber torch that stood by the back door. She then sat Helen down and walked outside. The weather was worsening, the rain bouncing off of the ground. She walked over to the digger, shone the light downwards and peered into the hole. It was fast filling with rain, and Frank’s face was obscured by the pool of water that lay at the bottom. Catherine looked around, the pile of dirt stood next to the hole and she watched as the rain ran down it, causing a river of water that poured down into the six feet by two feet hole that Frank had dug. She looked across the yard, moving the torch back and forth, searching, looking, taking it all in. She looked back at the hole and the pile of dirt and then at the digger. And then she quickly went back into the house.

  “Do you know how to drive that thing?” She sat opposite Helen, wiping her face.

  “Yes, why?” Helen looked distraught.

  “Because I have an idea, but you’ve got to trust me, we have to trust each other completely. Do you trust me Helen?” She waited.

  “Of course I trust you, what are you going to do?”

  “We are going to fill the hole back in.” She paused. “And then I want you to drive the digger up and down the whole back yard, to cover up any trace that there was ever a hole there.” She took a deep breath and held her shaking hands together. “It’s raining so hard out there, I think if we do it right that we can cover up any sign that this ever happened.”

  “But, Frank is still dead and people will want to know where the fuck he’s gone.” Helen’s
head lowered, “We’ll never get away with it, I should just admit what I’ve done.”

  “No. Look, he’s just got what he deserved, he’s hurt you so many times and anyway, what the hell was he doing, digging a hole that looked like a bloody grave anyway?” Catherine took Helen’s hands, “We’ll get through this, we’ll cover it up and then we’ll disappear, we can go to France, my father has a place there, we can start there and then go wherever you want.”

  “But, we’d be on the run for the rest of our lives.” Her voice was empty, her tone, negative.

  “Look, if we do this right, they might never find him anyway, but once it’s done, we’ll get away and then we’ll have time to think about what we’re going to do.” She kissed Helen’s hands.

  There was a long silence.

  “Okay.” Helen got up and looked back at Catherine, “Okay, let’s do it.”

  And so, with the rain teeming down onto them, they filled in the hole, and Helen drove the digger back and forth, it’s tracks covering theirs, until all traces were gone. When it was done, she parked the digger over the top of where Frank lay, near where it usually stood. She wiped the steering wheel and climbed down. They stood staring, looking around. It was like it never happened. Except it had.

  “Okay, we need to get some things together, can you pack a bag, get your passport, anything you need, then we’ll go to my house and I’ll do the same, then we’ll be off.” Catherine’s mind was racing, she was trying to keep calm, but she knew from Helen’s face that she was terrified.

  “What about my parents?’ Helen began to cry.

  “Oh darling,” Catherine held her, “I know this so hard for you, but once I’ve figured out what we’re going to do, I promise you’ll see them again.”

  “Are you sure we shouldn’t have just called the police? We’re never going to get away with this.” Helen began to shake.