The Doll's House

21

‘Put them on.’

Ruby stood by the bed, under the glare of the sodium lights that had suddenly snapped on. It seemed part of her captor’s technique now to half blind her before opening the door.

She turned her gaze to the bed, where he had laid out a complete outfit for her. Knickers, tights, a short denim skirt, low-cut top, hoop earrings. A funky Saturday night outfit or a hooker’s uniform, depending on how you wore it.

‘Now.’

His raised voice made her jump. This time she kept her nerve – though her bottom lip quivered as she picked up the skimpy black thong – she was not going to give him the satisfaction of crying again. She undressed and dressed quickly, not wanting to be naked for long. Even so she faltered as she put the earrings in. Unlike the clothes, these were not new – they looked tarnished and old. Somehow they felt like death to Ruby.

‘Let me look at you.’

She turned to face him. At first he didn’t react, but then a smile crept over his unshaven features.

‘Good.’

He stared at her, enjoying the moment. All the while Ruby tried to swallow down the bile that crept up her throat.

‘As it’s Sunday,’ he continued cheerily, ‘I thought we’d eat together. I know how you like a roast.’

Ruby now spotted the tray on the table. It had drinks on it and two plates covered with plastic food warmers. Ruby didn’t want to play ball, but she was so, so hungry. He removed the covers to reveal a ready-meal Sunday lunch. It was a travesty of the real thing… but the gravy smelt good. Ruby sat down and fell on the meal, cramming great forkfuls into her mouth.

‘Don’t give yourself indigestion.’

He seemed amused by her hunger. She slowed her intake slightly, but was not about to let a feast like this go begging.

‘It’s good you’ve got your appetite back, Summer. You always were a good eater.’

Ruby paused momentarily, then carried on eating, trying to quell the fear rising inside her.

‘Don’t call me that.’

‘Why not? It’s your name.’

‘It’s not my n-’

‘What else would I call you?’

Ruby’s fork clattered down on to the table, gravy splashing messily around. Tears were already streaming down her face, her strength suddenly evaporating.

‘Please don’t do this. I want to go home. I want to be with my family -’

‘You are home, Summer.’

‘I want to see my mum and dad. And Cassie and Conor -’

‘WILL YOU FUCKING SHUT UP!’

As he bellowed this, he struck her hard across the cheek, the rings on his fingers connecting sharply with her cheekbone. She stumbled a little, falling back off her chair, but before she could hit the ground, he had hauled her back up, dumping her unceremoniously back on the chair.

‘JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP AND EAT – YOUR – LUNCH.’

His eyes were blazing as he screamed at her. Ruby froze, the thought that she might be only moments from a brutal death paralysing her completely.

‘Eat,’ he said more quietly, fighting to contain his rage.

Slowly, Ruby lifted the fork to her lips. But the cold meat now felt alien and unwelcome in her mouth. She held it there but didn’t chew it, powerless to do as she was told.

‘That’s better,’ he continued, placing a small greyish potato in his mouth. ‘Now let’s try and enjoy the rest of our lunch.’