Bruised Faces and Broken Hearts Chapter Three- Need You to Help
TWs for domestic violence and r*pe
Holby, England (Dec 2017)
Madilyn Keogh sighed wearily as she walked into the hospital complex. It had been late last night that she had received a phone call from her youngest son, desperately pleading for her to come to Holby and help him.
During the call, she had been heartbroken to hear how bad of a state her former daughter in law was in. She had never quite understood what had happened between Dylan and Sam, she had a feeling that another man had been involved but that didn't matter. If Dylan said that Sam needed her then she would move hell on earth to help. In her line of work, she'd treated many mothers who had suffered at the hands of their partners. She herself even knew firsthand what it was like. No one should have to endure the hell that abuse created.
She entered the reception area of the emergency department and approached the desk. The man behind it had his back to her but soon noticed her waiting.
"Hello. Welcome to Holby City Emergency Department, how may I help you today?"
"Hello, my name is Madilyn Keogh and I'm here to see my son Dylan."
The man whom according to his name badge was called Noel nodded and turned to a porter, asking them to catch Doctor Keogh and tell him to come to reception. She thanked Noel and sat down in the waiting area.
After a couple of minutes Dylan appeared next to the reception desk. She gave him a warm smile as she approached him which, as usual, he didn't repay. His attention seemed to be split and she soon noticed that they seemed to be the centre of many of his colleagues' attention.
"My break just started," Dylan started, unable to relax whilst he was being watched by so many. "Maybe we could go talk in the staff room?"
"I think that would be a good idea."
He started towards the main department area and she followed. The many eyes of those watching them moved as they did.
"Are you sure that's his mother?"
"Well, that's what Max said anyways."
"Are you sure he's right? I mean, she looks pretty young for that."
"I don't think he'd make that up."
"I wouldn't put it past him if I'm honest."
Two young women, one ginger and one with shorter and darker hair, were sitting at a workstation in the middle of the department, watching her and Dylan intensely as they walked to the staff room. Madilyn chuckled to herself. If one thing was the same in every hospital, whether it be in Ireland or England, it was that gossip spread like wildfire.
The staff room was luckily empty and now out of the watch of his colleagues, Dylan instantly relaxed. He busied himself with making coffee and Madilyn settled herself on one of the worn sofas.
"So how bad is it?" She took a mug of steamy coffee in her hands as Dylan sat down opposite her.
Dylan shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know but it is bad. She's scared, jumpy and too quiet for Sam. There's definitely something she's hiding and her explanations don't add up, I think she's quite aware that they don't." He looked down at his mug, clearly hurting at the thought of Sam suffering."
"So what do you want me to do?"
Dylan looked up in confusion, having been pulled from his thoughts.
"Well, you obviously asked me here to help so what's your plan Dylan?"
"Talk to her," he said, "I know that I've tried but maybe she'll listen to you. You might know what to say to her better than I would, given the circumstances."
She nodded in agreement. "Very well. When does your shift end then?"
"Six, though I'll probably end up running over as usual." He glanced down at his watch, "and talking of running over, my break finished two minutes ago."
He quickly gulped down the last of his coffee before adjusting his stethoscope and heading for the door. Before he left he turned to his mother one last time.
"You don't mind waiting do you?"
"It'll only be a couple of hours, go." He gave her a small smile before disappearing into the department. She brought her book out of her bag. Taking another sip of her coffee, she settled down for a quiet afternoon.
She leaned heavily on the wheelchair as she moved it back to its place in the corridor. She was tired; both physically and mentally. The constant need to be on edge was taking its toll on her, and it was all the fault of one person.
Tom had walked her to work that day and had informed her that he'd be there when she came off shift. There was no freedom. He was becoming more and more paranoid as the days went by. In his mind, he was convinced she was cheating on him and would be damned if she went anywhere without him.
He already hated her going to work without him there watching her. Tom had been forced to quit working in the medical profession two years ago, just before the consultant had fired him for his excessive drinking. On one hand it had given her a tiny bit of safety, being able to be alone at work, but on the other, with no job to occupy him, Tom had fallen further into his destructive habits.
She just wanted it to stop. She wanted to feel safe, to be loved by someone who truly meant it.
She reached up to the chain that sat hidden under her clothes and rubbed the ring that it held. It was a reminder to her of a past when she'd been happy, when the man who told her he loved her truly meant it. When the man whom she loved wouldn't hurt her or make promises that never came to be. She'd told Tom it was her mother's wedding ring, he'd only have let her keep it that way, but it wasn't.
Dylan.
Why couldn't she tell him? She used to be able to tell him everything. Under the cover of darkness he'd hold her close in their bed and they'd exchange their deepest secrets. There had never been a time, even in their darkest of days, that she'd never felt she couldn't go to him.
Maybe it was because so much had changed. Maybe it was because she'd hurt him, pushed him away, made him feel like she was replacing him. The hurt in his eyes had been evident when he'd told her he was leaving as the first snow of 2012 had fallen around them. She didn't deserve to have him care after all that.
But somehow he still did, and she honestly couldn't understand why. Deep down she just wanted to run to him. He had and would always be her safe harbour but she just couldn't risk it.
Tears started to brim in her eyes, another display of the sheer amount of hurt that had consumed her. Her feet instantly brought her to the staff room; somewhere quiet, somewhere away from people.
Sam fell backwards against the lockers as her tears finally fell. She was tired of hiding, but it was all she could do.
Madilyn's attention was drawn from her book by the noise of someone entering the staff room. It was Sam. She didn't notice that she wasn't alone and instead collapsed against the lockers in tears. Carefully Madilyn made her way over to Sam who was shaking from her tears and gently spoke to her.
"Oh my Sam, are you okay?"
On realising that she was in fact not alone, Sam stared at her ex mother-in-law like a deer caught in headlights before trying to hastily make her way to the door. Madilyn swiftly took her hand and instead guided her over to the sofa.
"Do you want to talk about what's bothering you?"
Sam shook her head. She began to rub her eyes with the back of her hand until Madilyn handed her a tissue. They sat in silence, the only sound being the occasional sniffle from Sam desperately trying to get her emotions under control, until Madilyn felt that Sam was calm enough for a conversation.
"Now then, you look a bit better now."
Sam's tears were nearly all gone, her eyes were no longer fearful and she was now just anxiously watching Madilyn as she spoke.
"You're probably wondering why I'm here, I don't think you've ever seen me out of Ireland if I'm honest."
Again, Sam shook her head. "You're here for Dylan."
"Yes, I am. He asked me to come here to help him with something."
Sam gave out a small, yet still tearful laugh, "Dylan needs help with something?"
"I know, you wouldn't expect someone as independent as him to ask for help, would you?" Pausing for a moment she considered how to word what she needed to say. It was very likely that she'd only have one shot at it if she wanted to persuade Sam to listen.
"He's worried about someone, he thinks that they're in a dangerous situation and need help to sort it out. He's already tried to help them himself but he's at a dead end as to what to do now. In his eyes, I might be able to help this person."
Madilyn, on seeing that she had Sam's attention, decided to go for it.
"To them their situation probably feels impossible, being hurt by someone who should love you is soul crushing and can make you feel trapped. Asking for help becomes unspeakable but it is truthfully the best thing you can do. Once you tell someone you don't have to fight it alone, trust me I know."
Sam scoffed at her defensively, "And tell me, what would you really know about that?"
Madilyn, unfazed by Sam's outburst, simply turned to face her.
"Because I was that person once." She watched as this caught Sam's attention. "I was once that person who wouldn't ask for help. I was scared of what would happen if I did in case they found out."
Sam didn't react. For a moment they sat in silence before Madilyn spoke again.
"Have you ever met Dylan's father?"
Sam shook her head and Madilyn smiled ever so slightly.
"Well, I'm glad of that. I wouldn't want you to anyways."
Sam's words were barely a whisper but they caught Madilyn off guard. The painful memories that she had repressed for years flooded back for vengeance.
"What did he do?"
Belfast, Northern Ireland (1981)
Her face stung and her eyes watered as his hand flew into her chest. The sheer force of the pain sent her stumbling backwards, tripping over her own feet as she tried to regain her balance.
He roared loudly, making her wince as the shrill noise rang through her ears.
"YOU UTTER BITCH"
Within seconds of getting up he was on her again. The endless shouts of abuse were coupled with countless punches and scratches. She could feel her face swelling and there was definitely some blood trickling down from her nose.
She didn't try to run, she couldn't leave them alone with this monster, so instead she stood there as her husband hit her. The man who was meant to love her, meant to cherish and care for her. She sometimes wondered how it had come to this. How had the outgoing, charming boy from England that she had fallen so desperately for turned out to be such a monster?
She braced herself for more punches but they didn't come.
The bang of the door signalled that he'd grown tired of the beatings and had most likely left to find more alcohol.
She stood up using the wall for support, wincing as pain shot up her body. Her reflection in the mirror was a sorry sight. Her eye would definitely be bruised by tomorrow, the swelling already making it harder to see.
She bent down to pick up her glasses which were miraculously not broken. She delicately placed them back on her face, hoping they wouldn't bother her injuries too much, when she finally saw shadows at the door.
She mustered her best smile, "How long have you been standing there for?"
They didn't answer. They didn't need to, she already knew.
They'd been there the whole time.
She sighed, pushing her glasses up onto her to rub her eyes. It had been nearly three decades since then but the feelings of fear, pain and guilt had never lessened. After taking a deep breath, she composed herself and returned to Sam who was just staring back at her.
"He used to hurt me; punching, hitting, making me carry out demands I didn't want. He belittled me and made me believe I was worthless. That I would only ever be something with him."
"What made you realise that it was wrong?"
"I think I always knew but I was scared of what would happen if I tried to get away. That's how they do it. They trap you in a vicious cycle of fear so that you'll be too scared to even try to leave. That was the hardest part, leaving, but once I did everything got better."
Madilyn realised that Sam was no longer looking her way and was fidgeting with her staff card. She reached over and put her hand on Sam's arm, hoping to relax her slightly.
"Once I told someone, they helped me to get somewhere safe and sort everything out. It may seem like the entire world is telling you no but listen to what you want. You can get help, if you want it then it will always be there, you just need to ask." She gave Sam a soft smile. Maybe she would finally feel safe enough to talk.
Sam continued to fidget but after a few moments she finally spoke.
"I think…" Sam mumbled, "I think I need you to…"
Sam was interrupted by a noise and they both turned to see a figure approach the staffroom doorway.
"Hey Sam, they need you for a moment before you go home. Something about paperwork, I think."
Sam's eyes darted between Madilyn and the person as if, to the older woman, she was checking that it was okay to go.
Madilyn patted her arm gently. "You go sort out that paperwork before it gets too messy, I know what that's like. Once you're finished I'll still be here so we can finish talking." Sam stood up and looked at her one last time before she reluctantly left with the man.
Madilyn sat back onto the sofa. They were close, she was sure of it. Had they had a couple of minutes longer she was sure that Sam would have confirmed Dylan's suspicions.
There was something off about that man. Even though he wasn't in some form of work clothes, which in itself was odd to her, he didn't look like the professional people who usually worked in a hospital. If someone that scruffy had turned up to work in her department in that state they would be in for a good old fashioned dressing down.
That look. The way Sam had turned to her was stuck in her mind. She jumped up and practically ran out into the department past Dylan and into the ambulance bay.
Her eyes shot around as she desperately tried to see her. Her attempt was in vain, they'd already gone. Dylan appeared at her side, confusion etched on his face as he watched his mother panic.
She felt so stupid.
Sam had needed her help then.
That was him. That was Sam's abuser.
His nails cut into her wrists as he dragged her home with her struggling against him. The threats he'd made scared her into obeying him, knowing all too well what fighting back could lead to.
They arrived back at her flat and he threw her through the doorway. Her feet stumbled around beneath her as Tom slammed the door behind them.
"WHAT DID I TELL YOU," he roared in her face as she fought the urge to cry, "NO TALKING TO ANYONE OR ELSE YOU WON'T GET TO GO ANYWHERE ALONE."
Sam stared down at the floor, wishing that she'd finished telling Madilyn and that she could help her.
"Who was that anyway, and what did you tell them?" She didn't reply and wrapped her arms around herself in a feeble attempt for comfort.
"TELL ME!" He thumped his fist against the wall. Sam winced at the sound as her tears grew ever closer to falling. She snuck a look at Tom's face. He seemed to be trying to figure something out. His anger seeped out of every voice as he muttered under his breath.
"Ginger hair, glasses, Irish… Ginger hair, glasses…"
He stormed over to the bookshelf, pulling out Sam's old photo album. His hands fumbled through the pages, his temper making small movements hard. He froze on a page and his anger visibly deepened. Not giving a damn about Sam's book, he tore the page out and let the book clatter to the floor. He thrust the photo into Sam's hands and reluctantly she looked at it, knowing too well what it showed.
Christmas Day 2009. She was sat cross legged in front of a cosy fireplace with a small grey puppy curled up at her feet. Madilyn was leaning into the photograph from the armchair nearby with Graham, Layla and their families crouched around her. Dylan was sat over next to Sam.
"Dylan." Tom spat out his name mockingly. "Did you really think that running to your precious Dylan would help? I know you're stupid Sam but really, what makes you think he cares?"
Her heart fell at the sound of Tom mocking Dylan. She held the now crumpled photograph closer to her, trying to block out Tom with the happy memories.
"And why should he anyways, you made his life a misery."
She looked up in shock and fear at Tom's words.
"That's why he always drank so much, wasn't it? You were so unbearable that he had no choice but to drink to put up with you!"
Sam's arms fell limp at her sides, the photo drifting to the ground. Maybe, maybe he was right. Dylan hadn't drank as much before he had met her. It was only after they married that his drinking worsened. Whenever she came back from an army training week or a tour Afghanistan he would always be in a mood with her and sometimes barely acknowledge her presence.
She felt Tom come closer and to pull her into his arms but all she could focus on was Dylan.
Tom was right. How could he care? She'd cheated on him in some stupid attempt to get him to love her. What had she been thinking?
Tom's hands slipped under her shirt and rubbed soothing circles on her bare back. She let him lead her to their bedroom all the while realising that maybe he was right.
Her affair, their divorce, forcing him to watch her with Tom. No person could care for someone after they put them through that.
Tom's movements next to her caught her attention. She had been so wrapped up in his words that she hadn't noticed what was happening.
He was standing shirtless with his belt and trousers undone.
Before she could move he was on her, ripping off her shirt and throwing her onto the bed. He used his weight to restrain her by sitting on her legs as one hand held her hands down and the other removed her remaining clothes. No matter how much she thrashed against him and begged for him to stop he ignored her.
"JUST SHUT UP AND LIE STILL!"
His fist flew into her face and pain seared through her head. Her limbs grew weak as her body struggled to stay awake let alone fight back.
His breath sent cold shivers down her spine as he whispered in her ear, causing her tears to trickle down her face with the blood from her nose. She could feel his hands in places she hated them being but she had no way of moving them away. Once again she was here, with Tom using her for his own pleasure.
"Nobody can love you."
She winced in pain as he forced his way inside her.
"Nobody but me."
It was the pain that hit her first.
Then the realisation.
It had happened again.
Her breath was all broken. She gasped for air but still felt like she was suffocating. She could still feel his arms snaking their way around her, the throbbing in her head from where he'd knocked her out, and the worst one of all, the pain of him forcing his way into her. Her own body revolted her.
Her hand knocked against his and her stomach twisted violently. She slid down onto the floor, not wanting to be anywhere near the man who had taken everything from her.
Pieces of her clothes lay strewn across the floor from when he had ripped them off her body. The cold air nipped at her naked body acting as another reminder of the horrific thing that had happened to her. She pulled her shirt towards her needing something, anything, to cover herself with.
She crept into the sitting room in search of some more clothes from the washing, not wanting to risk waking Tom by looking in their room. As she pulled on some joggers her foot knocked against a piece of paper on the floor, it was the photograph.
Madilyn.
Sam remembered her talk with ex mother-in-law from earlier that day. She just needed to get away. Even if Tom had been right, even if Dylan didn't care, someone would.
She needed to find help.
She slipped her boots and hoodie on in near silence before carefully working her way towards the door. The shine of the keys in the door sent a spark of hope through her still fuzzy mind, Tom had left the keys in the door.
Her movements were tiny. She only dared to grasp and turn the keys in small bursts out of fear.
The door creaked as she slowly opened it. Light from the landing window contrasted against the darkness of her flat. The daylight gave her hope as she started to make her way towards the stairs.
She was so close, but it wasn't over yet.
Her body was pulled backwards as he grabbed her waist. How had he heard her? Why couldn't she have been quicker, if she'd left a few minutes earlier she would have been out in the streets with somewhere to hide and people to help her. She would have been safe.
She resisted against his hold, trying to break his arms apart and make a run for it. He grabbed at her arm and twisted it behind her back, muffling her mouth with his other hand.
"You can't escape me, you're mine and always will be mine. You Samantha Nicholls, are a weak, scared, useless waste of space."
"Just get away." She could hear Madilyn's words from earlier echoing in her mind, encouraging her to not give up. "You're not weak, you can do this."
"No." Her voice came out muffled and barely audible.
Tom snarled down at her. "What did you say?"
"NO I'M NOT!"
It took everything she had but she knew she was close to freedom. She was Sam Nicholls. She had fought in Afghanistan, seen some of the worst humanity had to offer. She wasn't the one who was weak, that was Tom. He relied on making others weak to feel strong. She was strong herself and she just needed to fight for a little longer.
She mustered her last ounce of energy and thrust her leg back hard, right into his balls. He stumbled back, groaning in pain. His arms fell loose, releasing Sam.
"YOU DISGUSTING LITTLE BITCH!" He screamed as Sam frantically rushed towards the stairs. Her feet missed the step and she crashed forwards. Sam frantically grabbed for the banister.
It was too late.
Instead her body crumbled over the banister, a searing pain exploding in her stomach. She flailed her hands desperately as her off balanced weight pulled her over.
"We could try the police?"
"No, I've told you already, without any more evidence, which we don't have, they won't do anything."
He reached up and ran his hands through his hair. This was difficult. It was almost definitely Tom and they both agreed on that, Sam's reaction to the situation couldn't have been clearer, but now they were at a loss at what to do. It was the worst feeling in the world, knowing that at that very moment Sam could be in trouble and he was just sitting at home doing nothing.
"Are there any social workers at the hospital who might know how to deal with this?"
"I honestly don't know." He was too stressed to think straight, his mind racing with thoughts of Sam, his Sam, being hurt by that monster.
He was interrupted by his phone ringing from his pocket. He answered it hurriedly, it could be Sam.
"Hello?"
"Hi Dylan, it's Connie." He sighed, whatever it was he couldn't be bothered with it. For all he knew, Connie wanted him to change around his shifts or prepare something for some meeting. He had better things to worry about.
"Yes, what is it?"
"I'm calling you because you're down as Sam's next of kin."
"Wait, what?" Dylan looked over at his mother, she was also listening in on the conversation and looked just as confused as him.
"You didn't know," Connie's voice trailed off, "Right…"
Connie's next words rang through his ears as his worst nightmare became a reality. His mother's eyes were filled with hurt too. Madilyn grabbed her jacket whilst Dylan dug in his drawer for his car keys. They needed to get to the ED as soon as they could.
Sam was hurt.
