Not a word needed to be spoken between them. It was as if a forgotten connection had been re-established between the estranged couple, transcending the need for verbal communication. There remained just inches of clear space between them.
A final moment of hesitation, one last failed sanity check, then an embrace in the middle of the yard in front of the house.
Their lips locked and hands began to move, exploring bodies which hadn’t touched one another in years, hadn’t wanted to. Jeremy gently pushed her up against the side of Scott’s Vauxhall Zafira, his tongue exploring her mouth in the same way the girl’s tongue had explored his last night, and—
—and Scott flew through the front door and pulled Jeremy away from his wife. He threw him to the ground and kicked him in the gut, hard enough to roll him over. ‘Bastard,’ he spat. Michelle grabbed at him and tried to pull him away, but he swung around and slapped her across the face, just as he had done last night. ‘What the fuck is going on?’ he demanded, standing over her as she sank to her knees, sobbing. ‘Answer me! What the fuck is going on?’
Michelle looked up at her husband, then at her ex-husband behind him on all fours, struggling to get back to his feet. Her mouth opened and closed, but the words wouldn’t come. ‘I don’t…’ she said, ‘I didn’t…’ She couldn’t form full sentences, could barely even form full thoughts. Blood poured from her nose.
‘You bitch,’ Scott said. ‘How long have you and him been planning this?’
Already distracted, he was taken completely by surprise when Jeremy barged past him to get to Michelle again, his unbuckled trousers now around his ankles, his penis erect. Too stunned to react at first, as Jeremy reached for Michelle, Scott grabbed his shoulders and pulled him over backwards. He kicked him again, focusing his full fury on the man on the ground. Michelle staggered away, heading for the relative safety of the house.
Jeremy was still trying to get back up. Scott ran at him and punched him so hard he thought he’d broken his hand, catching him full on the side of his jaw and knocking him out cold. He stood over the unconscious, half-dressed man and shook his stinging hand. There was a noise behind him. He spun around quickly, expecting to have been locked out of the house, but the noise had come from upstairs. Phoebe was hanging out of her bedroom window, and she started screaming when she saw her dad. Seconds later, Tammy came flying out of the front door. Scott caught her and carried her back inside, throwing her down the hallway before slamming the door shut then locking and bolting it behind him and pocketing the key. She scrambled back to her feet and threw herself at him, pounding him with her fists. He tried to catch her vicious, flailing arms but couldn’t. He refused to hit back and instead just soaked up punch after punch until she was too tired to keep fighting.
The house was full of noise now: Michelle sobbing at the bottom of the stairs, Phoebe a few steps above her, howling too, and elsewhere George, forgotten, was screaming for attention. Tammy saw that Scott was distracted and shoved him away before bolting, looking for another way out of the house. He blocked her at every turn. ‘It wasn’t my fault,’ he tried to say, cornering her in the kitchen. ‘He attacked your mum… tried to force himself on her.’
‘He wouldn’t do that. You’re lying again… he wouldn’t.’
‘It’s true,’ Michelle said, wiping her bloody nose, desperately trying to cling onto Scott’s half-truth and avoid making any admissions of her own. She’d been as much to blame. She’d wanted Jeremy as much as he had wanted her, though now she couldn’t understand what had possessed her. She felt as if she’d been violated though they’d barely touched. Conscious they were staring at her, she wrapped her dressing-gown around her half-naked body. Her voice was hoarse with crying and tears flooded down her cheeks, mixing with the blood. ‘He was outside and I went to ask him what was wrong. He looked scared. I went to talk to him and he… I don’t know if he’d been drinking or what… he was wearing the same clothes as last night and—’
‘And you weren’t putting up much of a fight,’ Scott sneered.
‘You’re both lying,’ Phoebe said from the corner of the kitchen, away from the rest of them.
‘Did you not see him from up there?’ Scott said, no consideration for her feelings. ‘Trousers round his ankles, everything hanging out… dirty fucker.’
‘Scott!’ Michelle said.
‘What? Don’t you dare criticise me, you bitch.’
‘Don’t talk to Mum like that,’ Tammy screamed at him.
‘And don’t any of you talk to me at all.’
Michelle looked at him and he held her gaze for several seconds. But there was no concern in his eyes anymore, no love, just hurt and hate. She moved towards him, he backed away. ‘You have to believe me, Scott… I know how it looked but it wasn’t like that. I really thought there was something wrong. I went out to check on him and he… I don’t know what came over me.’
‘Well your ex-husband very nearly did,’ he said, emotionless.
‘We need to talk about this. For the sake of the girls and George, we need to talk…’
‘What’s there to talk about? I caught you in the front yard, about to fuck your ex-husband. That’s pretty much it from where I’m standing.’
‘I know, and I can’t explain it… it’s just…’
‘Just what? Come on, I want to hear this. Are you going to explain to me how it’s okay that you nearly fucked Jeremy just now?’
‘I swear, I didn’t plan anything… But there was just something about the way he was, the way he looked at me…’
‘Oh, fuck, was it love at first sight all over again?’
‘Don’t take the piss out of me, Scott.’
‘Then don’t treat me like a fucking idiot. You’re telling me you just felt like having sex out in the open with your ex because of the way he looked at you? So you’ve not had any feelings for him for years, you just changed your mind this morning? Or was it last night? Did something happen before I came back in and caught him slagging me off? Was he touching you up while I was out of the room?’
Michelle gasped. ‘Don’t talk to me like that. Don’t say things like that in front of the kids. You shouldn’t—’
‘You’re criticising me? Don’t waste your breath,’ Scott cut across her, the contempt in his voice clear. He leant closer so that only she could hear him. ‘I saw everything. I was watching from the moment you went out there. I know what happened. I know what you did, what you wanted to do.’
‘No, Scott, I swear… I didn’t do anything to…’
He grabbed her throat, squeezing tight enough to leave red finger marks, almost choking her but not quite, knowing just the right amount of pressure to apply because he’d done this plenty of times before. ‘Save your breath. Go and see to George and get out of my fucking sight.’
She did as he said, running to the stairs, keen to shield her son from the chaos. On the other side of the kitchen, Tammy straightened herself up, ready to attack Scott again. ‘This is all your fault…’ she started to say. He lifted a hand to hit her and she cowered away, the moment seeming to last forever. He eventually lowered his fist.
‘Get upstairs and get ready for school,’ he said, the unnatural calm in his voice now somehow more frightening than the anger he’d shown seconds earlier.
‘I don’t want to go to school,’ Phoebe sobbed. ‘Not now, not after…’
‘Both of you get upstairs and get ready for school before I really lose my fucking temper. Now!’
They did as they were told, fearing for their safety. Scott could be intimidating at the best of times, right now he was downright terrifying. Neither girl had any doubt he’d hit them if it came down to it. They’d seen what he’d done Mum enough times.