Runaway Wife. Margaret Way

his laugh and the light in his cold grey eyes it had sounded as though he believed it.

      Now she had to escape. It wouldn’t be simple, but she had thought it through. She couldn’t continue to allow Colin to abuse her. She had to reach safety.

      She’d made one previous attempt, seeking the aid of a girlfriend, but Colin had quickly convinced her friend she was experiencing “problems”. He was a doctor, after all. But now she was ready.

      She was frustrated by the fact she simply couldn’t move out of the house and take an apartment somewhere. She knew Colin would find her. Teach her a lesson with his clever, damaging hands. Part of her even believed he might kill her if she expressed her fervent desire to be free of him. She had to go so far away it would be difficult to trace her.

      She already knew the place. Koomera Crossing in far Western Queensland. There could be nowhere more remote than the Outback. She knew the name of a woman who might help her cope with the crippling fear she’d been living with. An absolutely steady woman who’d impressed her every time they’d met. A woman not all that much older than herself. Highly intelligent, caring, a doctor now in charge of the Koomera Crossing Bush Hospital.

      Her name was Sarah Dempsey. Laura had met Sarah many times at various functions she and Colin had attended in their role of “perfect” couple. Laura had formed the opinion Sarah Dempsey was a strong, supportive woman, unusually kind and sensitive. The sort of woman who might help her win back her life. Or at least provide the safety net she desperately needed until she felt strong enough to stand on her own two feet.

      CHAPTER ONE

      SARAH had given her a list of three rental houses that were available in the town. She could make her own choice. It was Sarah who had come along to pick out the reliable used car she was driving. She could have bought a new one from the considerable cash stash she had with her, withdrawn from her private account, but she didn’t want to draw too much attention to herself. Sarah had helped immensely by introducing her around as an “old friend”. It had instantly assured her acceptance in the town.

      In the course of a few days Sarah had become her friend and confidante. A sister in arms. Laura knew from the moment she’d laid eyes on Dr Sarah at the hospital she’d made the right decision finding her way to Koomera Crossing. Simply by talking over her sad situation with someone who seemed eminently qualified to listen and offer strategies for change had made her feel so much better about herself.

      Laura felt reasonably normal, though she never lost the feeling of being in jeopardy, or visualizing Colin’s angry face many times a day. She knew with a certainty Colin would have begun tracking her, most probably through some investigation agency, but she’d been surprisingly adept at getting away. How had she allowed him to make her feel so incompetent when all her life up to that point she’d been regarded as very bright? Such was the pain-inducing power of the domineering male.

      Now, with Sarah’s help, she was beginning to stop blaming herself for the disastrous failure of her marriage. She was beginning to see Colin had worked so hard to instill in her a sense of worthlessness he had almost succeeded. Sarah’s opinion of Colin as a sociopath, a condition in which he considered himself beyond the normal rules, was that he was the one who truly needed counselling.

      Laura was young, inexperienced, grieving for her father, lonely for her mother—ill-prepared to cope with a man like Colin Morcombe with his anger and aggressions.

      As soon as she felt stronger and more confident Sarah would encourage her to do something about her situation. Liberate herself from Colin and the bonds he had forced on her. Divorce him and change her life.

      It sounded simple but Laura, the victim, like all other victims of abuse, knew it wasn’t. She had suffered far too much emotional damage living with Colin, but she wasn’t beyond repair. Though Colin had tried so very hard to break her she had found the strength to make her escape.

      But for how long? Colin would come after her. Hadn’t he near convinced her there was no way out?

      All this Laura thought as she drove around the town, looking for the best place to live. Koomera Crossing boasted a picture-postcard town. It was very neat and clean with a lot of picturesque colonial buildings, but the majority of the houses she drove past were humble compared with what she’d been used to.

      Her own family home, the house where she had grown up, now sold to family friends who had always admired it, was a gracious “Queenlander”, set in a large garden, a luxurious tropical oasis, that had been her mother’s pride and joy.

      Laura and Colin had lived in a starkly modern edifice—she’d never thought of it as “home”—with a commanding view of the river and the city. An architect friend of Colin’s had designed it. There had been much talk of clean, open spaces, energy flow and creative processes—about which, for all the notice they took of her, she knew nothing. When she had attempted to say what she liked both men had shrugged her and her opinions off. The client was Colin. Not his wife. Her needs—warmth, colour, comfort—were just too “precious”. Traditional was out. What they got, to Colin’s delight, was a massive white pile. Geometric and pompous.

      “Let’s keep the whole thing white,” Colin had suggested, as though she had any say in the matter. “Inside and out. You have to think modern, darling. Not that Gone With the Wind old barn you came from. Try to look happier. Most women would be very excited about living in our house. If you want a bit of colour you can get it from steel and glass. Glass has a beautiful blue-green edge.”

      The houses she was driving past, cottages with tiny porches, would have fitted comfortably into their living room, with its giant sofas and huge abstract paintings—mostly black, silver or charcoal on white.

      “Challenging,” Colin had said, the self-deluded art connoisseur.

      “Why do we need a living room so big?” she’d been brave enough to ask.

      “For entertaining, you silly goose. That’s if you ever become confident enough to try it.”

      They rarely had entertained.

      “You poor kid, stuck with this!” her friend, Ellie had said, giving the interior a quick, assessing look. “Gee, after what you came from you must be finding all this very different?”

      “Challenging.” She’d laughed with good humour, giving an excellent imitation of Colin’s ultra-confident tones.

      She knew Ellie wouldn’t have been fooled. Ellie was a very independent person, very sure of herself. She held her own with Colin. Needless to say Ellie had been one of the first to be struck from the list.

      Laura wasn’t concerned where she’d be living now, as long as it was clean and safe.

      Twenty minutes later she decided where she wanted to live. It was a modest dwelling, by far the smallest in the street. She supposed it had originally been a settlers’ cottage, constructed of timber and corrugated iron with a small front verandah to keep off the powerful glare of the sun and the rain. She had to wonder just how often it rained out here on the desert fringe.

      The cottage was painted white, with sunshine-yellow shutters and trim. It was surrounded by a low picket fence hung with masses of Thai Gold bougainvillaea in abundant flower, giving the place a delightful welcoming look. Whoever had lived in it previously had maintained a pocket handkerchief cottage garden filled with bright yellow and white paper daisy flowers and a dazzling blanket of waxy pink flowers with sparkly silver-pale green leaves backed by tall, rather regal-looking lilies, the heraldic cream and orange blooms swaying slightly in the breeze.

      There didn’t appear to be anywhere to garage the car. Indeed, the whole cottage wasn’t as big as the six-car garage Colin had insisted upon to house his collection of classic cars and her Volvo. A safe car for a “truly dreadful driver”. She’d soon stopped driving Colin anywhere because he heckled her so much. It had been equally grim in the kitchen, where he’d told her constantly she’d never make a living as a chef.

      She remembered the first and the last time she