True Love Ways
by Bill Robertson
Genre: Drama
Swearwords: A couple of strong ones.
Description: A flash story about the sad reality of domestic abuse.
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Louise walked down the corridor, cutting through the milling crowds of teenagers. Her high heels clicked rhythmically on the scarred linoleum tiles, marking her stride. She could feel the eyes of some of the boys sweep over her as she passed by; they burned through her clothes like lasers. Louise ignored them; she had become accustomed to the stares and the furtive attempts to peep down her blouse while she helped with their work.
As she reached the staff room door she paused to look at her reflection in the little square of glass. She winced inwardly at the dark clouds gathered under her eyes. She looked again, wondering if anyone could see the bruises through the makeup. Graham was usually so careful, landing his blows like a skilled sharpshooter, always careful to avoid the places people might see. Last night had been different though, he’d been out on the beers all day with his mates off the rigs, celebrating being back onshore again. As a result, his aim had been off a little – although his tongue had been as sharp as ever.
‘You’re nothing but a fucking slag,’ he’d hissed at her as she lay cowering on the floor. She knew better than to raise her hands in defence – not after he’d landed her in hospital that time. ‘I know you mess about with other blokes while I’m away. I’ll catch you at it sooner or later – just you wait, you fucking hoor!’
As always, Louise denied his allegations. She loved him, she told him. He apologised later after he’d sobered up a bit. He always did. Crying like a wee boy. It was stress at work, he told her, he’d had too much to drink and it made him paranoid and he’d lost his temper, he was so sorry – he’d make it up to her, he promised.
The pale reflection was too difficult to make out clearly. Maybe she should have called Julie and told her she was too sick to come in but Julie had already told her that questions were being asked about the number of sick days she’d taken this year. She would just have to brazen it out.
She took a deep breath, grasped the handle and went in.
Swearwords: A couple of strong ones.
Description: A flash story about the sad reality of domestic abuse.
_____________________________________________________________________
Louise walked down the corridor, cutting through the milling crowds of teenagers. Her high heels clicked rhythmically on the scarred linoleum tiles, marking her stride. She could feel the eyes of some of the boys sweep over her as she passed by; they burned through her clothes like lasers. Louise ignored them; she had become accustomed to the stares and the furtive attempts to peep down her blouse while she helped with their work.
As she reached the staff room door she paused to look at her reflection in the little square of glass. She winced inwardly at the dark clouds gathered under her eyes. She looked again, wondering if anyone could see the bruises through the makeup. Graham was usually so careful, landing his blows like a skilled sharpshooter, always careful to avoid the places people might see. Last night had been different though, he’d been out on the beers all day with his mates off the rigs, celebrating being back onshore again. As a result, his aim had been off a little – although his tongue had been as sharp as ever.
‘You’re nothing but a fucking slag,’ he’d hissed at her as she lay cowering on the floor. She knew better than to raise her hands in defence – not after he’d landed her in hospital that time. ‘I know you mess about with other blokes while I’m away. I’ll catch you at it sooner or later – just you wait, you fucking hoor!’
As always, Louise denied his allegations. She loved him, she told him. He apologised later after he’d sobered up a bit. He always did. Crying like a wee boy. It was stress at work, he told her, he’d had too much to drink and it made him paranoid and he’d lost his temper, he was so sorry – he’d make it up to her, he promised.
The pale reflection was too difficult to make out clearly. Maybe she should have called Julie and told her she was too sick to come in but Julie had already told her that questions were being asked about the number of sick days she’d taken this year. She would just have to brazen it out.
She took a deep breath, grasped the handle and went in.
About the Author
Born in Perth and now living just outside Aberdeen, Bill Robertson has created a large body of work showcasing a tendency towards the darker side of life and stories which leave an indelible impression on the reader long after the final word is read.
An active member of Aberdeen’s Lemon Tree Writer’s Group, Bill’s work has appeared in Journeys, an anthology of work from the group, and most recently in a chapbook, Himself by the Seaside. He has performed some of his stories as part of the Word and New Words festivals and other events around the north-east. He has also self published two e-books: Reindeer Dust, a short Christmas story, and When the Revolution Comes, a collection of linked short stories concerning an uprising in a fictional eastern European country. A number of his stories have featured on the website http://www.shortbreadstories.co.uk, where he has been chosen as the featured Friday story a number of times and has won a number of competitions with his short stories and flash fiction pieces.
If you would like to hear an interview with Bill and listen to him read some of his work, please go to this link to hear Bill’s appearance on Mearns FM's Smith on Sunday show. You can also keep up to date with Bill’s work by visiting http://www.billrobertson55.wordpress.com, where he often shares work in progress as well as finished stories.
An active member of Aberdeen’s Lemon Tree Writer’s Group, Bill’s work has appeared in Journeys, an anthology of work from the group, and most recently in a chapbook, Himself by the Seaside. He has performed some of his stories as part of the Word and New Words festivals and other events around the north-east. He has also self published two e-books: Reindeer Dust, a short Christmas story, and When the Revolution Comes, a collection of linked short stories concerning an uprising in a fictional eastern European country. A number of his stories have featured on the website http://www.shortbreadstories.co.uk, where he has been chosen as the featured Friday story a number of times and has won a number of competitions with his short stories and flash fiction pieces.
If you would like to hear an interview with Bill and listen to him read some of his work, please go to this link to hear Bill’s appearance on Mearns FM's Smith on Sunday show. You can also keep up to date with Bill’s work by visiting http://www.billrobertson55.wordpress.com, where he often shares work in progress as well as finished stories.