Whisper My Last Goodbye Read online

  Phew, this was a lot to take in for Harpur, it was all going way too fast. He wanted to meet her, video chat with her, she wasn’t sure. Ramming her phone back into her pocket, she decided to stew on his message for a while before replying to it. She needed Bridget’s advice first. She’d know what to do in a situation like this. Quickly, she stubbed her cigarette out and went back into the house. Joseph was still sat at the table eating his breakfast and he was oblivious to her newfound excitement. Harpur checked the clock again. She was going to be late if she didn’t get a move on. Her counsellor was a busy man and if she turned up late for her appointment with him, there was a good chance he’d turn her away. She needed someone to open up to, someone to listen and give her some advice. Now Dessie was back on the scene anything could happen, she was vulnerable and in need of two loving arms to hold her.

  Joanne stomped into the kitchen and ragged her fingers through her hair. She yawned and walked over to the kettle. “Do you want a brew Harpur?”

  “No, I’ve already had one. I’ve got to get ready now anyway. Make sure Joseph is on time for school, don’t be late again or you will be getting another letter home about it.”

  Joanne rolled her eyes. This was her son and she was sick of Harpur telling her what she was doing wrong. Every day she moaned at her regarding the way she was bringing her son up. Who was she to talk anyway after what Sam had told her about his childhood? This woman had no room to talk. People who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones, so the saying goes. Joanne had told her this too. Oh yes, one night after a few too many they had locked horns and a few home truths were told. If Neil hadn’t been there to restrain Harpur, she would have knocked her block right off. It took weeks for that argument to blow over and it was touch and go if Joanne was going to be made homeless. Sam had gone ballistic at his girlfriend when he found out what had happened and warned Joanne that if she ever disrespected his mother again he would not be held responsible for his actions. You see, Sam was a mummy’s boy, her word was gospel and he always felt the need to protect her. Even as a small child when his father was pummelling his fists deep into her body, he had tried to help her. It was such a shame he had to witness this and somewhere deep in his memory bank he would never forget the torment his father put his mother through. Harpur left the room and hurried upstairs to get ready.

  *

  “I thought you weren’t going to get here on time Harpur. A few minutes more and I would have had to cancel your appointment.” Mark was an older man. around fifty-five years of age. Bald as a coot, he had the most overgrown eyebrows Harpur had ever seen in her life, coarse bristles and long grey hairs grew in all directions. Even his nasal passage was hairy. Wouldn't you think somebody would have told him about his personal hygiene, told him to trim all the hair that made himself look presentable.

  Harpur composed herself and gasped her breath. “I’m sorry Mark. I just got caught up at home and lost track of time. Anyway, I’m here now aren’t I?”

  Mark sat faced her, a notepad placed near him and two glasses of water on the desk. The room was only small and the two chairs were positioned facing each other. Mark made sure he could look his client in the eyes when he spoke to them, see their pain, help them release any emotions they were storing. From the window in the room you could see trees in the distance, lots of greenery and large branches swaying about in the wind. Harpur made herself comfortable in the brown leather chair and twiddled her thumbs nervously. She was always like this at the start of her session and it took a while before she could open up and talk about her problems, her fears, her traumas. Mark coughed to clear his throat and looked over at her. “So, how have you been? It’s been a while since we have spoken. Has everything been alright since our last session? I know you have been struggling lately and I thought you would be here sooner to see me.” Mark dipped his glasses low and looked her in the eye as he continued. “You know I never judge the people who come here and whatever you tell me stays inside these four walls.”

  Every time she’d been here to see him, he always started every session with the same old spiel. Harpur knew the crack inside out and just nodded to let him know she understood that everything she spoke about was confidential. Mark led the conversation and got her started. “Last time you were here you said you were ready to talk about your past, the violence and the man who nearly ruined you.”

  Harpur swallowed hard as her windpipe tightened. She wasn’t sure if she was ready or not. Was it too soon? Was she ready to face her demons? But how long could she keep this torment locked away inside her, it was eating her up each day, messing with her head, destroying her. No, she had to get it all out, release the pain, put her past behind her. Her eyes gazed out of the window and she began to speak for the first time about her previous relationship. Although it was so long ago it all seemed like yesterday to her. She was constantly pulling and scratching at her skin as if it was burning her, irritating her. “I feel like a fool now when I look back at what he put me through. I’m angry at myself that I let it happen. I don’t ever want to be weak like that again. He could have killed me you know. That’s what he always told me and I believe he was capable of it too. He said he would put me six foot under. And if I’d stayed with him I would be in a morgue by now.”

  Mark’s voice was calming. He knew his job well and had many years of therapy under his belt. “You were younger then and probably knew no better. That man took advantage of your good nature and bullied you. He wanted to control you. No woman ever belongs to a man, you know that.” His words became soft and endearing as if he understood what she had been through. “If someone loves you they must earn your trust and your love, it’s not something given to them for free. They have to earn it, deserve it.”

  Harpur’s eyes squeezed together tightly, she could see her abuser’s face right there in front of her. She visualised the misery he put her through. He was there large as life in her mind’s eye. She could feel his presence, his warm breath creeping up her skin as if he was stood next to her, listening to her every word. Sucking hard on her gums she continued, her fist curled into tight rounded balls at the side of her thighs. Her tone changed. Rage filtered through every vein in her body and her eyes bulged out from their sockets. “He told me it was all my fault and I deserved everything he did to me. I wasn’t a bad person, Mark. I did everything to make him happy. How dare he treat me like that after all I had done for him. If I ever set eyes on him again I would plunge a knife deep into his heart. Honest, I would torture him like he done to me.”

  Mark reached over and gripped the small glass of water. He’d never seen this side of Harpur before and he was starting to feel uncomfortable. He passed a glass of water over to her and spoke. “What did he do to you?”

  Harpur wriggled about in her seat and her nostrils flared. The emotion was pumping up inside her, rising to the back of her throat, palms sweating, clothes itching her skin. The words were hanging on the end of her tongue and Mark knew he had to be calm and let her take all the time she needed to get this out of her system. “It was late and he’d not been home for days. Nothing new there though, he was always going AWOL. He was like that, he treated our house like a hotel. I was just his skivvy when I think about it. He just used to stroll in and get a bath, get changed and sit down for a few minutes before he was back out again. He hardly said a word to me unless it was verbal abuse.”

  Mark held his head to the side and twisted his black pen around his fingers. He was intrigued. “Where had he been all the time he was missing, did he tell you?”

  Harpur spoke in a sarcastic tone. “He said it was ‘none of my fucking business’ and if I carried on interrogating him he would ‘shut me up for good’.” Mark sat back in his chair and crossed his legs. It was her turn to talk now and he waited eagerly for her to continue. “I was asleep in bed and he must have sneaked into the house without me knowing. I’d told him we were over earlier in the day and he just left without saying a word. He took it quite well,
or so I thought. Honest, I was overjoyed and thought I’d seen the back of him for good.” There were a few seconds silence. She was gathering her thoughts, ready to proceed. “I heard a few sounds coming from outside my bedroom and I just lay listening, thinking it was my mind playing tricks on me. I was always hearing strange noises throughout the night. Anyway, it all went quiet again and I settled back to sleep. The sounds had stopped.” Harpur played with her fingers rapidly, she was cracking her knuckles. “He must have moved so quietly into the bedroom because I never heard a thing, nothing, not a sound. I remember waking up and I was wet, liquid dripping from my head into my eyes. That’s when I saw him stood over me. All I could see was the whites of his eyes, the stale smell of tobacco. The fumes from the liquid were choking me,” her eyes were wide open and her breathing was rapid, she sucked in large mouthfuls of air and she was doing her best to get this out.

  “Breathe, take your time. You’re in a safe place he can’t hurt you anymore, just take your time,” Mark reassured her.

  Harpur continued. “His hand reached over and he ragged me towards him by my hair. All I could see was a bright yellow flame. One second it was there and the next it was gone. He sank his teeth deep into my face and his voice was chilling. I’ll never forget what he said to me...”

  Mark’s eyes were wide open and he was now realising how much abuse this woman had been through. He urged her to continue. “What was happening, did he let you go? What was he doing?”

  “No, I was his prisoner now just as I always was when he was twisted and off his head. He was sick like that, he enjoyed watching me suffer, to beg him for mercy. To let him know he was my master,” her feet bounced about on the floor nervously as she continued. “He held the lighter next to my face and he told me he was going to let me burn to death. He said he wanted me to feel pain like he’d felt when I told him I no longer loved him.” Harpur’s eyes started to flood with tears and she reached over to grab a tissue from the table nearby. She had to continue, to tell somebody how she was treated by her former partner.

  Mark was engrossed by this story and for a few seconds he forgot he was her therapist. “So, why did he stop?”

  Harpur snivelled and dropped her head low, whatever it was she about to say she was ashamed of. This wasn’t easy for her, this took guts, bottle to expose her suffering. Harpur kept her head low and didn’t lift her eyes once. “He told me if I sucked his dick he would let me live. I’m sorry to be so crude Mark, but that’s what he demanded from me. I couldn’t say no could I? I did what I had to do to survive. He raped me after that too, not that that was the first time he forced himself on me either. He said I was his and he could do what the hell he wanted with me.” A tear streamed down her cheek, rolling near her lip. This woman just needed a cuddle at this moment, someone to hold her. Her shoulders were shaking. “I just lost all sense of self-worth I suppose. I had nowhere to turn, nowhere to go. Nobody who would listen.”

  “Did you ever think of telling the police about him. They would have helped you, put you in touch with people who could have helped you get away from him.”

  Harpur snapped, did this guy think she was brain-dead or something? Had he ever lived in the real world where grassing was frowned upon by the community? She shook her head and let out a sarcastic laugh. “What, and you think the police could have stopped him? He was a law unto himself. They would have taken a statement from me and probably gone and had a word with him. I’ve seen it so many times before. A few women I have spoken to have all said the same. The police can’t protect you, nobody can when you’re in a relationship with someone who is tapped in the head.”

  Mark could see this was all getting too much for her and tried to calm her down. “And, your son. Did he see any of the violence?”

  Harpur covered her eyes with her hands. This was her jugular, the stuff that made her blood boil. Her bottom lip trembled and her hand slowly slid to the side of her head and started gripping her hair, ragging at it. “He didn’t care who saw what he was doing. Sam came in once and he spat at him and told him to close the door and to go back to bed. He was only six years old at the time - he was a child, innocent to the world. He was scared, shaking he was. His dad dragged him from the doorway and leathered him. I could hear the screaming from the next room and there was nothing I could do about it. I wanted to. God, I wanted to, but I just lay frozen, helpless to my abuser. I knew I needed to do something but if I would have moved an inch he would have left me for dead. I know you might think I’m lying about this Mark but on my life he would have savaged me if I had made a move to go anywhere.”

  Her words were hard to get out now, there was so much emotion, so much pain. “I know Sam has been affected by all this. He’s violent towards his girlfriend too. It’s all he knows. He thinks women should be treated like that and who can blame him after what he witnessed? He’s got a chip on his shoulder just like his dad.”

  Mark stopped her dead in her tracks. “But you moved on into a stable relationship and he never witnessed any abuse there did he?”

  Harpur sighed and shook her head. “No, never. Neil has never laid a finger on me or any of the kids. And if he ever did I would knock him out. I would never be treated like that again. I hate that I was never strong enough to stand up to that bastard and I let him rule my life.”

  Mark studied her and crossed his arms tightly across his chest. He wanted to know more about this women’s life because as it stood, she didn’t strike him as a candidate who would put up with any shit from anyone, she seemed streetwise, able to look after herself. “Did you ever try to fight back when he attacked you?”

  Harpur smirked and whatever she was about to say was amusing her. She looked him directly in the eye. “I suppose I became as bad as him in the end. I lost the plot I think and didn’t care what he did to me anymore. He shit himself when I fought back,” she let out a menacing laugh. “He didn’t know what had hit him. He was shocked let me tell you,” she shrugged her shoulders and she seemed in a world of her own as she continued. “I just couldn’t take it anymore. And if I was to die trying to defend myself, then so be it. I was dead inside anyway and I had nothing else to lose. Death would have been a godsend, rather than spending another second with that prick. I let him see exactly what he’d turned me into to. I scratched his eyes out, bit him, kicked him and launched everything at him that I could get my hands on. I wanted me back. I was sick of just existing. I wanted to live again. And if I was to die trying to get what I wanted then it was a fair price to pay,” she licked her lips slowly and her voice was low. “I stabbed him,” her eyes danced with madness and her breathing increased. Small balls of sweat formed on her forehead.

  Mark coughed to clear his throat, he’d never seen this side of Harpur before and he wasn’t sure if she was thinking straight. Was this just grief or was it something more raising its ugly head, he wasn’t sure. He urged her to continue, he was taking notes now, making sure he recorded everything for future reference. “I started to see his weaknesses and destroyed the things he loved most. Money was his Achilles’ heel. Yeah, he loved cash and the power it gave him. Usually, after he’d tormented me all night long and bruised every inch of my body, he was always sorry and wanted to buy me the world. He bought me everything to keep me by his side. And for a while it worked. I did believe he was sorry and I forgave him. He did the same thing with Sam too, he bought him all the top clobber and the best toys money could buy. I was a fool I know but at the time, I was oblivious to his ways and the way he treated me.”

  “Did you love him?”

  Mark’s question knocked her for six. She sat forward in her seat and gripped her knees with her hands tightly. She was taking what seemed like forever to reply, had he overstepped the mark? Was she even ready to go this deep into her previous relationship? After thinking for a few seconds she was ready to answer. “No, he was just there at the right time when I needed someone I think. I was young and mixed up and searching for something more. He was
older than me and he made me feel special when I was with him. Love never really came into it for me. I didn’t even know what love was. He told me nobody would ever care for me like he did and if I ever left him he would hunt me down and make sure he scarred me for life,” her eyes were wide open now and she held a serious look of concern in her eyes. “He said he would shred my face into ribbons, slice me up. So, in answer to your question I never experienced love with him.”

  Mark could see she was struggling with this topic and thought she needed a breather away from it. Harpur was staring out of the window and she’d dried up with any kind of conversation, completely switched herself off. “And how are things at home? You’ve been through a lot lately with losing your brother, it must be hard on all your family.”

  There was no stopping the tears now, the floodgates opened - this woman was heartbroken. She eyes stared out of the window. “I can’t believe he’s gone, Mark. Every time my phone rings I think it’s him ringing me for a chat. I think I see him in the street too. Am I losing the plot or what?”

  Mark shook his head slowly and he could see he had to tread on eggshells here. “It’s all a form of grieving, Harpur. Everybody must go through the same kind of stuff. Some people never get over the death of a loved one. I suppose they just learn to cope with it that’s all.”

  She snarled over at him and sighed. What did he know about the way she was feeling? Perhaps she should have held her thoughts to herself but the words just leapt out without any control over them. “Nobody is hurting the way I am. I don’t care what you say. He wasn’t just my brother you know, he was my best friend. We went through a lot together, stuff people like you would never understand. When I was at my lowest he was there to pick me back up and even when I was in an abusive relationship, he was the only person who tried to help me. He was willing to go to jail to help me. He told me so, he would have killed that bastard stone dead if I would have let him.”