Free: My Abuse Is Over

By W R Queensborough

When it's time to get out...get out.

Seven compelling fictional dramas. One true-to-life dilemma - how to escape abusive relationships.

What is it that keeps victims trapped within abusive relationships? Why can't they just leave? Is it guilt? Are they afraid of worse to come? Or are they more afraid of being alone?

And what of the churches? Are they a help or a hindrance? Can those in authority be counted on to bring light to the victims' darkness? Or are some carrying dark secrets of their own?

Whatever the answer, people like Laney, EJ, Krystal and Brooklyn are going to have to find a way to reclaim their lives and navigate their way out. And before they get out they first need to get their minds out. Because if they don't, the consequences may yet prove fatal...

Stories:-

MOMMY WON’T BE HURT ANYMORE

She is convinced she can change him. She is convinced they can be a happy family. She is wrong.

NO EVERETT, NO

Question: If a boy grows up witnessing his mother being consistently abused, what are the chances of him not becoming an abuser himself?
Answer: .........

THE FEAR OF FALLING

A married pastor’s beautiful friend is back in his life. She’s also in trouble. But soon, she may not be the only one.

IT WAS STILL ABUSE

A heated discussion between two preachers resurrects painful memories for someone close.

LONDON’S FALLING

A pastor who feels threatened by his wife’s successful ministry decides it’s time to take back control.

ROONEY RASHFORD LALLANA STURRIDGE

Don't be fooled. Domestic abuse can surface in the most unexpected places.

WHY GOD? A DREAM. A FANTASY. A NIGHTMARE (EXTENDED EDITION)

On their wedding night her dream meets his fantasy. It soon turns into her nightmare.

THIS ENDS TONIGHT

When a victim chooses to turn the tables, her abusers need to be scared. Dead scared.

These intriguing edge of your seat dramas are full of unexpected twists and outright shocks. Friendship and Betrayal. Love and Depravity. Life and Death. You will smile. You will get angry. You will struggle to put this book down. Order it now.

• Language: English
• Publisher: QB Sound and Print
• Release date: Aug 27, 2017
• ISBN: 9780993522628

Book preview

MOMMY WON’T BE HURT ANY MORE

Chapter 1

December 2015 - The Funeral

Laney had asked for a cremation. The family however had other ideas, especially her father, so her wishes were ignored. Still, at least it was a short service, which was itself unusual amongst the black community. None of the usual flowery tributes. No reminiscing over better days from times gone by. It was better this way. No one would have been brave enough to raise the subject. It wouldn’t come easily to the lips but was in everyone’s thoughts. No family friend wanted to raise the dark circumstances.

The funeral took place in the familiar surroundings of St Peters and St Johns, with its stained windows and hard mahogany benches, the same place where she’d been married. Yet the December gloom was a world away from the late summer splendour of their wedding day three years earlier. Furnishings that then had appeared grand and steeped in history now pressed home the emotional darkness of the occasion. The hymns chosen utilised notes from the very lowest of the musical scale, making the notes of the organ cling to the floor. The officiating minister tried his best to keep the service flowing, but it was a challenge to choose the right words given what had happened. He was as grateful as everyone else for a shorter than normal service.

At the cemetery the grey weather matched the occasion. The rain started to fall in light drops, but in no time became a downpour. Those attending pulled their coats tight as they made their way from their cars to the graveside. The wind and rain gave the minister the perfect excuse to cut proceedings short. He let the cemetery attendants finish covering the grave with the digger, again setting aside the usual Caribbean tradition.

Amidst the few braving the weather the six-year-old girl was out of place. She stared at the mound of earth growing in front of her. People described her afterwards as brave, no weeping, or other evidence of trauma. They never knew how many tears she had already poured out over the years. Her single tear at the graveside was barely discernible in the midst of the rain drops running down her face, except for the salty taste in her mouth.

As little Abigail stood there watching the remaining shovels of dirt being patted down, she turned and looked up to her godmother. ‘Auntie’ Phyllis stood beside her throughout the whole burial, trying in vain to shelter her with her favourite zebra striped umbrella. Abigail managed one word as she stared into Phyllis’ face.

Why?

It was a blow to Phyllis’ stomach to hear her goddaughter, the daughter of her best friend Laney, enquiring for reasons, searching for answers.

We don’t know Abi. But at least Mommy won’t be hurt any more.

Chapter 2

August 2012 - No Room for Doubt

"Laney, are you sure about this?"

About what Phyllis? Laney looked around at the many shopping bags placed around and under their table at La Chez Noire Patisserie, their favourite cafeteria. Too much stuff?

No. About marriage?

Laney’s brow furrowed as she leant back in her chair. Of course I’m sure.

Ok. Phyllis lowered her head and kept stirring her coffee.

Why are you asking me that Phyllis? And why now?

Why now?

Yeah, why is my best friend, my chief bridesmaid, asking me three weeks before my wedding whether I’m sure or not?

Phyllis was at a loss for words. A shopping trip was the perfect chance for a girlie catch up to make sure everything was on track. Now, sitting in the cafe, the pace had slowed although the place was three quarters full. The London Olympics on the small television screens added to the buzz of excitement.

The question had been niggling Phyllis more and more as Laney’s big day drew nearer. She’d dropped little hints along the way. Is his family coming? What do you know of his background? Is Abigail okay with it? Laney had an answer for every question. Some answers sounded weak, but they were still answers. She herself had only met Phil once, and that was by coincidence. He had called off every planned meeting at the last minute. There was something that left Phyllis uneasy.

Phyllis he’s the answer to my dreams. Laney was desperate for her best friend to be happy for her despite any misgivings. Phil is charming, a gentleman, and he loves me. He pays attention to me. He showers me with gifts and complements and text messages. And he pays attention to my other needs if you know what I mean. By now Laney was purring.

So, no worries, no doubts?

Phyllis you know me better than anyone. Better than I know myself sometimes. I was never meant to be alone. And now I can pour out my love to someone who loves me.

And what about Abigail? Is he okay around her?

Listen, I’ll be honest, Phil had a hard time with becoming a father for the first time in his fifties. Which man wouldn’t? I understand that, but now we’ve moved on. We’re going to be a happy family.

Phyllis noticed Laney still didn’t answer this question. But she already felt guilty about quizzing her so close to her big day. For years they had shared ideas of what it meant to her to be married, more so as they approached forty. Despite her reservations Phyllis backed off. Just give her your support and your blessing, she thought.

Go for it girl.

Phyllis gave Laney her biggest smile, reached out, and squeezed her best friend. Laney squeezed her as tightly. Her best friend’s approval was all Laney needed for her own doubts to settle, at least for the time being.

***   ***   ***

Phil never gave them a second glance as he strode through the sitting room. Laney’s cheeks flushed as she looked at Phyllis sitting next to her on the small sofa. Place names were scattered over the coffee table with a plan of the seating arrangements for the reception, now just a week away. Phyllis stared at Laney, then dropped her head again, moving more bits of paper. She held her peace for a full thirty seconds before raising her head again.

Seriously Laney. What on earth is that about? Laney’s cheeks brightened even further. I mean, please explain. How are you not seeing this?

Phyllis please don’t start.

Don’t start? Me, don’t start?

You don’t understand. He’s just not bothered with things like this. It’s just a guy thing.

Laney, the guy is rude. He has serious problems. Think about what you’re letting yourself in for.

Phyllis, keep your voice down. I don’t want to make things worse.

Worse? How is it going to get worse? And how is he coming into your house with attitude, when we are sitting here planning his wedding. Can’t you see?

Just drop it.

Phyllis jumped up and grabbed her jacket. Laney I can’t do this. I’ve got to get out. I’ll call you tomorrow.

As she opened the door to the hallway she came face to face with Phil. Their eyes burned into the back of one another’s skulls. Laney’s heart stopped as she gazed, torn between her lifelong best friend and her soon-to-be husband.

Excuse me. Their shoulders crunched as she stormed past. As the front door closed Phil stormed into the kitchen, trailed by Laney.

What on earth is wrong with you? How can you treat my best friend like that?. She’s my chief bridesmaid at our wedding.

Your wedding.

What do you mean by that?

Your bridesmaid. Your wedding. He continued putting away items sitting on the draining board.

What do you want from me? I’ve tried to include you but you’re not interested. Apart from your mother and your father you’ve told me nothing about your family. We could have invited them all.

Elaine, I would appreciate you dropping the subject. Do not question me any further.

Well I’m sorry but I want—

Phil flung the ladle he was holding at the wall, removing a large piece of plaster, and making every part of Laney jump and shake. Phil glared, as angry with her as he was with himself for losing control. But the mention of his father. Robert McInery was dead. To him at least.

She should have known that.

Laney stared at the lump of plaster, and at the bent ladle. One week before the biggest day of her life. Seven days away from the moment she had longed for. It might as well have been seventy years.

Chapter 3

September 2012 - The Wedding

"Elaine Angela Forrester, wilt thou have this man to be thy lawful wedded husband, to live together in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou love him, comfort him, honour and keep him, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him so long as ye both shall live?"

I, (cough) I will.

The cough in the middle of her short sentence caused the congregation to laugh out. They thought she had planned it. They had no clue. How could they?

The dream was finally here. As the church doors of St Peters and St Johns swung open Laney took nervous first steps to Here Comes the Bride played on the oldest working pipe organ in the town. The small church was packed with work colleagues and friends she kept in touch with from church. People were craning their necks to glimpse her, smiles on their faces, mobile phones in their hands.

She looked elegant in her wedding gown. The attendants at Wedding Belles had excelled at finding her a dress to suit her fuller figure. Her makeup was understated, enough to give her caramel coloured skin a glow that radiated. Her hair swept down her back and shocked those who only ever saw her in her customary braids. She held tight onto her dad’s arm as she floated along the aisle towards her groom. So perfect, to the eye at least.

The knot in Laney’s stomach had been growing tighter for days. Now, as she stood in front of the altar beside her husband to be, she wanted to rip her stomach open. On that same morning while they were waiting for the cars to arrive, cousin Aisley had said it was the same for her leading up to her wedding. It was only natural, normal wedding day jitters, nothing more. What cousin Aisley didn’t know was how Laney had asked her mother Bernice a few days earlier if she thought she was doing the right thing.

***   ***   ***

Well Laney my girl, three days to go and you will be Mrs McInery. How do you feel?

Everything is more or less done. Spoke to the florist this week, the caterers, the photographer. Everything is in place. Just as I always imagined.

That’s great Laney, but tell me, how do you feel?

Laney never could hide from her mother’s intuition. It would have been okay for Laney to simply say ‘fine’ or even ‘nervous’. Instead Laney lifted her head out of her mother’s lap, and looked into her eyes.

Scared.

Mother Bernice, as she was known by her church family, looked into the eyes of her only child and saw a scared and lost little girl. The wrinkles on her forehead deepened as her light brown eyes narrowed.

Scared? Why are you scared? The look on Bernice’s face made it even harder for Laney.

I shouldn’t have said anything. Another three days, only another three days. She lowered her head back into her mother’s lap, hoping her mother would resume the therapeutic combing of her hair. However, her admission opened a door that meant there was no going back.

Laney, what’s wrong? Why are you scared?

Mom, did you ever wish you had another child?

Not really dear. Sometimes I wondered what if you had a brother or a sister when you seemed lonely. But it meant I could give more attention to you. And to your father. But back to the point Laney. Why are you scared? Are you alright?

I don’t know if I can go through with this.

Look at me Laney. Laney sat up, head bowed. Laney, look at me. Laney turned towards her mother. Tell me what’s wrong. Her soft spoken manner was always so reassuring.

"I don’t know what it is Mom. I am seeing another side to Phil I don’t like.

In what way?

He is so jealous and controlling. It’s causing problems at work, and he’s getting angrier at home.

I’m sorry to hear this Laney.

If he’s this way now what about when we’re married?

Have you told him how you feel?

I tried, but he wouldn’t have it. Just got angry.

Bernice’s disappointment turned to concern. Laney, has he ever put his hand on you? On Abi?

No mom. If anything it’s the opposite. When he’s angry he goes quiet. Laney paused. I think that scares me even more.

Laney, you’re not supposed to be scared of your future husband days before you get married. It’s not a good sign.

Mom, do you think I should call it off?

Call what off? Neither of them heard when Laney’s father, the semi-retired Bishop Ezra Josiah Forrester, seventy-three-year old pioneer of New Dawn Pentecostal Assembly, entered the lounge. He sat in his usual armchair. Call what off?

Laney looked at her mother for inspiration. Go ahead dear.

Laney repeated what she told her mother. All the way through Bishop Forrester sat in silence with his elbows resting on the arms of his chair, forming a steeple with his fingers under his nose.

That’s when you came in. I was thinking about calling the whole thing off.

The faint ticking of the large clock hanging over the fireplace was the only sound heard for what seemed an eternity. Finally Bishop released a deep sigh.

Elaine, do you have any idea of the shame I have had to endure? The humiliation I have suffered over this whole sorry episode?

Laney’s head bowed, heart sinking. At forty-one years old her mother was the only one who had the power to rekindle the little child in her. And only her father could make that child helpless. Bishop Forrester continued.

"My ministry was respected the world over. New Dawn has become a beacon amongst all the churches. We have been talked about, written about. I have had letters from abroad commending us for the great work we have done in promoting the gospel and reaching out to the world.

"And now when the church should be making preparations and looking forward to her golden jubilee celebration, the news comes out that the daughter of the bishop has sunk to the lowest depths and got herself pregnant. A thirty-seven-year old woman, brought up in the fear of the Lord, has allowed herself to be consumed by the flesh and has borne a child out of wedlock.

And now the one thing meant to remove some of the reproach of the situation, you want to call off three days before it takes place? Elaine, how much more do you expect me to have to suffer?

The strength drained from Laney’s arms as she became paralysed with despair. This isn’t right! It can’t be right! The room closed in on her.

Turning to Bernice, Bishop asked, And Mother, you would have gone along with this? Bernice was every bit as heavy and as wrung out as her daughter. For a second eternity, the clock ticked on.

***   ***   ***

During the reception Laney drifted in and out of attention. She recalled the events surrounding them getting together as if they had taken place yesterday. She had begun to question if she would be single all her life. Her twenties whizzed by but she had never been unduly concerned. Career, home, independence all came first, then marriage and family. Thirty was a bombshell. She had nobody, never had been anybody serious, and no prospective somebody.

Laney considered herself attractive but not stunning. Maybe only Phyllis, her best friend, was truly stunning in Laney’s eyes. She had seen her with nothing on and she looked amazing. Even without a trace of makeup she still exuded beauty. And yet Phyllis was still alone. Laney glanced at her chief bridesmaid sitting next to her, and Phyllis smiled.

Thirty started to hurt, and each year after intensified her loneliness. At thirty-five she tried dating sites, but they were a waste, and bordered on desperate. Moments were slipping out of her hands like grains of sand. Never to be a wife. Never to be a mother. But then, enter Phil McInery.

Laney turned and looked at Phil. When she first saw him she was at once smitten. She never worked out for sure what it was about him she liked the most. His blond hair swept back, highlighting his well-defined cheekbones, his smile revealing perfect pearly white teeth. Maybe it was his Irish brogue over that creamy voice. No, it was his eyes. Midnight blue eyes that shouted ‘I want you’ and whispered ‘Warning’ at the same time. Eyes that came alive and drew her in whenever they talked face to face, but could also seem cold, even when he was smiling. She had been assigned to be his mentor after he started at GSUK. Despite being sixteen years older he had been fine with it, and she was more than fine with it.

She recalled how Phil wooed her after he joined the company, and how elated she felt that at thirty-six and a half years old she was in a serious relationship, the only serious relationship she had known.

Laney also recalled the shock less than a year later after her doctor confirmed what she thought was impossible, but had still feared during those days after missing her period. It couldn’t be true. They had only made love once, that last night of the week long residential. She couldn’t be pregnant. The second man she had ever slept with, there’s no way she could get caught so easily.

Laney, smile. This is your day girl.

The impromptu photographers clicked away at the blushing bride. They never saw behind the dress and make-up, never saw her thoughts. She drifted again, remembering going to see Phyllis, and collapsing in a heap on the floor as she told her the news. She remembered how Phyllis had proved to be a pillar of strength in those following months. She attended clinics with her and supported her when she plucked up the courage to tell her mother and then her esteemed father and bishop.

Memories came like a flash flood on what was supposed to be the happiest day of her life. Anyone could have excused her shedding a tear that day as she stood at the altar, or sat around the reception table. It would have appeared so romantic. They would have been way off the mark.

Chapter 4

November 2013 - Change

Laney sat at her desk for the final time getting ready to go home. From the age of sixteen she had worked at GSUK rising from office clerk to Head of Accounting. While waiting for her lift home she took one last look around. She would miss everything about her job. Her own office, so rare in the days of open plan. Her luxurious mahogany desk she picked out personally on promotion, without working how they would get it from the ground floor.

Most of all she would miss her colleagues. They were her extended family. These were people whom she developed great affection for, and the feeling was mutual. Even though it was her last day she waited until most of the staff had gone, not wishing for a large scale goodbye. She was going to struggle to carry home the flowers and gifts from friends sorry to see her go. She fought the tears that wanted to roll down her cheeks.

Phil had made the office unbearable. His jealousy had begun to poison the atmosphere at work while his insistence at home that she needs to look elsewhere became unbearable. There was no point arguing as he always had a way of making it ultra-personal. And when he wasn’t tearing down her character with insult after insult, he was giving her the silent treatment. He could go for days without speaking to her and barely speaking to his own daughter. That’s what hurt the most. Treating Abi like that was uncalled for. Whatever issues he had with her was one thing, taking it out on Abi was one step too far.

That evening Laney went through her wardrobe, planning what to wear for her first day in her new job as Head of Finance at CTI. She held her new black Versace suit matched with her Burberry blouse up to her neck as she posed in front of the mirror. She adjusted and readjusted her dreadlocks and flirted with herself turning one way and then the other, each pose made with her best Kim Kardashian pout.

Laney hadn’t always been this confident in front of a mirror. She grew up from her early teens conscious that her body shape was larger than the images that flooded screens and magazines promoting the ideal woman. Mention of her beautiful face and engaging smile were in her words ‘a polite way of saying I’m fat.’ Even recent attempts by segments of the fashion world to appreciate plus size models did little in her mind more than label her as someone who needed a special category to be considered beautiful.

She thought about how strange it was that it was Phil who had first made her feel truly beautiful for the first time. He paid her attention and compliments in equal measure in the first year of them meeting. Now he criticised her body far more than he complemented her, despite