Her Greatest Mistake by Sarah Simpson (19)

Before

I had lain still on the bed, eyes closed, wide awake, listening to the dulled tones from below in the study. An hour after I’d been locked in my room, you came back and unlocked the door. I knew you would if I didn’t create a scene. You wouldn’t see to Jack if he woke, not whilst entertaining your cronies and the mysterious overweight greasy man. Who was he? And who was the younger lad? I knew you were up to something, but why? Your career at Havers, Walker and Jenkins was all going so well. You didn’t need to be up to anything, whatever it was. I didn’t need you to be up to anything; it complicated my plans for escape. Made our home life feel all the more dirty.

I didn’t leave the room again, despite you unlocking it; I wanted you to think I was asleep; I didn’t need another argument. Not that being asleep would have stopped you; it wouldn’t have been the first time you woke me to be abusive. I contemplated using the key to lock my door from the inside. Chances were you would be looking for the fight. Then thought better of it. Eventually, louder voices and joviality in the acoustic hallway signalled their leaving. Not much longer after, I lay motionless in bed, my heart hammering, listening to your footsteps climbing the stairs, holding my breath as you reached the top, then stopped.

My brain starved of oxygen, my body became a stiff corpse for the moments you deliberated. Until your footsteps continued across the landing towards the spare room. Then, thankfully, the edge of light around the doorframe disappeared; you turned the landing light off. Thank God; I could fall to a version of sleep. I glanced at the alarm clock. Just three and a half hours probably before Jack would be awake again, ready to play. What had you all been talking about until the early hours? I should have made more effort to eavesdrop. I wanted to know but, then again, I didn’t. Jack and I led three distinct lives. Our one of playful love and shenanigans; our out-of-home pretend one with other normal people, and the one when Daddy was home. It was hard work. I hoped it was only apparent to me. That Jack was sheltered, others were ignorant. Only those who knew me really well could ever have suspected. But then, the people who knew me well were few and far between, or, more correctly, non-existent.

How had I allowed it to happen? My best friend, Sam, didn’t even get to meet Jack. In the end it became so very tricky and tiresome to divide myself between her and you. Too much juggling. I allowed our friendship to drift apart. It was my fault entirely. I took the easy option, if there ever was one to take. One day I hope I’ll have the opportunity to explain; maybe she’ll find a way to forgive me. With Sam gone, any other peripheral friendships didn’t stand a chance. My parents were isolated from me too. My doing again. I was so fervent in my need to protect them from my life, I fooled them into believing I was happy. In the end, Jack and I didn’t get to spend much time with them. It was not worth the stress and complications that always ensued. Worse still, I’d hear my parents talking of the exciting and enriched life Jack and I had, and it didn’t matter we didn’t get to see each other too often, as long as we were happy.

Undoubtedly we were. Not.

It was so much easier before Jack could talk; I could even visit my parents’ house. Eventually, as Jack became able to recount his day’s events, it became too dangerous. In the beginning, I stole precious hours at their home on the pretence we’d been to the park; nowhere in particular, nowhere verifiable. I made it my business to find out about all local events and activities, being potential alibis for my deceit. Knowing you would check them out. Being locked out of the house at night, or denied an evening meal, fuelled my eagerness to do this. But as Jack became more knowing, began to talk, I stopped visiting so often, unless I could justify beyond doubt my need to visit. Or if I knew you wouldn’t be home for at least a night and day, enabling me to pack in new, sufficient, exciting activities for Jack so he’d forget visiting Nannie and Grandad. On the odd occasion, I shamefully encouraged Jack to lie: it was a game, not to tell Daddy where he’d been. Hindsight showed me how downright peculiar this was but at the time it was my normal.

I returned to work, so we employed a child-carer recommended by a colleague of yours, despite my parents being delighted at the prospect of looking after Jack. By this time your parents were removed from the family picture. Since mother and son refused to back down on a matter unbeknown to me. Something to do with them turning down your offer of another trip to Spain. I can’t say I was too disappointed about this, despite it being completely unnatural and odd. You didn’t speak of them to Jack. You made reference to them from time to time, to affirm your embarrassment of them; how ungrateful they’d been. You intended not to have any further contact; they needed to learn the consequences of their actions. Did she think in the same way? Her denial of Jack and me made me assume so. Like mother, like son.

My parents decided to move to the sunshine. After all, Jack and I would be well looked after. How could I tell them we wouldn’t be allowed to visit? I didn’t; I agreed how wonderful it was going to be. I was genuinely happy for them. It also lifted the pressure a little. I’d stop feeling so torn, needing to make excuses about my infrequent, cut-short visits.

Lying in the darkness, my mind refusing to sleep, I thought back to the day they’d left. ‘Why do they need your help? How selfish, expecting you to give up your time and ruin Jack’s day. It’s his music group day. It’s simply unacceptable for him to miss. I cannot believe you’re even suggesting it. Selfish beyond belief,’ you retaliated.

My stomach knotted. I’d planned and played the day down for weeks. But Mum had innocently let it out of the bag the week before. ‘Eve, love, are you sure you want to bring Jack over next Thursday? We’d love you both to come, but it’s going to be extremely manic, cold too for Jack, with all the doors open and no heating.’

I’d felt my cheeks burn, my pulse accelerate; you’d quickly turned your gaze from Mum to me. She’d blown my cover. But then, how could she possibly have known it had needed to be kept secret?

‘Oh? What’s this, then?’ you’d enquired, trying to keep the antipathy out of your voice. But I’d been able to see it saturating your eyes.

‘Mum and Dad moving out on Thursday, you know, leaving for Spain the next day. Thought I’d go over and help them. Well, not so much help as just, say goodbye, before they leave. Jack will love it, the huge removals van. You know how he loves his trucks and vans.’ I’d grasped at straws. You hadn’t said a word, just gave the glimmer of a bogus smile. But you wouldn’t say anything with an audience, your silence had said everything I’d needed to know.

‘Don’t worry about that now, Mum. I’ll talk to you about it in a few days. Have you got everything you came with? It’s becoming cold and icy outside. You’d better get yourselves going.’ I’d begun to usher them towards the front door.

‘Yes, okay, love. Speak to you in the week.’ She’d bent down to pull Jack into her arms again. He’d giggled at the noisy kisses she’d planted all over his face. I’d felt you physically tense; I hadn’t dared gain eye contact.

Despite not broaching the subject again, you made sure we didn’t attempt to defy or deceive you. You chose to work from home that day. I hotfooted it around the house, clumsily picking things up unnecessarily, putting them down again. I watched the time tick away, knowing I needed to come up with a feasible plan. I really wanted to be there even though they didn’t expect me to be. Why did I feel so pathetic? It took a while to spit the words out. ‘I’m off now, to Mum and Dad’s. Leave you in peace, since you’re so busy. I’ll take Jack with me so you can concentrate. We won’t be gone too long.’

You were sitting with your back to me at your desk, your favourite seat in the house. You made a point of looking at your watch. ‘It’s 11.20, Jack’s music group is in just over an hour, so it’s not possible, I’m afraid. He can’t miss out because you want to see Mummy and Daddy,’ you scoffed.

‘It’s no big deal. As I’ve already said, Jack will love seeing the big vans, watching their furniture being loaded. I’ve already told him all about it.’

You held up a hand. ‘You do what you like, Eve.’

I scurried away despite my cortisol-engulfed shaky body. You’d taken it better than I’d anticipated. Not exactly a warm sending-off, but at least you hadn’t put up too much of a fight. I darted around gathering our bits and pieces so as to get away before you changed your mind. But I’d left Jack’s jacket and hat in the study with you. I should have been more prepared. I could hear you chatting on the telephone, so took my opportunity to sneak in behind without you noticing. But just as I picked up the clothing, you swivelled slightly in the leather chair, then began waving your arm up and down, signalling to put the items down.

‘Owen, this will have to wait. I’ll call you back in a few minutes. Don’t go anywhere, I’ll literally be a couple of minutes.’ You replaced the telephone to its base, before swivelling to me with antagonistic eyes.

‘Where are you going with Jack’s coat?’

‘You know where I’m going, Gregg. What do you mean?’

‘You’re not going anywhere with Jack.’

‘But you just said I—’

‘No. No, I said you do whatever you like, Eve.’

‘Yes, exactly. I need to leave now before—’

‘Yes, you run along to Mummy and Daddy. But Jack’s going nowhere. Like I also said, Jack has his music group, so I will stop what I’m doing, working, earning the money, because you’re too selfish, and I’ll take him myself.’

‘For God’s sake, why are you being so awkward? You don’t have to do anything; I’ll take Jack with me.’ I knew I’d just made matters worse.

‘Jack is not going to miss out just because he has a self-centred, irresponsible mother. Go, just go, enjoy yourself.’ You began to call, ‘Jack? Jack? Come in here with Daddy. Daddy will look after you today. Come on, Jack.’ I knew Jack would be oblivious, sitting engrossed with the Tweenies. I wasn’t going to win. With a thumping head, I turned, resisting the urge to clout his smiling face as I left the room.

I was so upset leaving Jack behind. Although they wouldn’t admit it, Mum and Dad would be sad he wasn’t there too. I’d make the obligatory excuses and get through the day. A bittersweet day: I was going to miss them, but I couldn’t have the relationship I wanted anyway.

It was dark and late when I returned home. The house was in darkness. I’d called only a couple of hours before to say goodnight to Jack, but apparently he was having too good a time to speak to me. As I approached the house, I could just make out the flickering lights cast from the TV, then your shadow appeared as you jumped up, the TV lights disappeared. A light appeared on the landing upstairs, then the house submerged into complete darkness. You’d gone to bed. I crept up the steps to the front door and attempted to turn my key in the lock. It was pointless; the top bolt you insisted upon was locked. I knocked lightly on the wood so as not to disturb Jack. I don’t know why I bothered. This wasn’t a silly mistake; you’d deliberately locked me out. Again.

It was frosty and freezing but at least I could shelter in my car. I slumped myself back in and attempted to call you on your mobile. It diverted to voicemail. I wrapped my coat tightly around me, I wasn’t sure if the shivering was from the cold, or the nervousness I felt inside. Or maybe it was anger in its purest form. After a couple of minutes, my mobile buzzed on my lap.

I replied,

Thank God they didn’t know the truth. I closed my eyes to avoid the inevitable tired and hopeless tears, just as a further text alerted me.

In a normal world, I’d have called a friend, called my parents, told them the truth. Left to stay somewhere, anywhere warm. But I couldn’t do that. I was not in a normal world. You had my bank cards again, so a B & B was out of the question. My world was horrid, insecure and unbearable. A world I was so ashamed of, I hated myself for allowing it to smother everything I was, everything important to me. A world that needed to end.

I remained in the car until the morning. My hands, feet and face being shades of pink, blue and white. Your silhouette eventually appeared behind the door, unlocked it without opening it. Your shadow stalked away from the glass panel next to the door. Upright and head held high. I sensed you humming your way around the rooms. Triumphant in your genius methods of punishment. Busying yourself with Jack as if all were normal.

Just another morning. Just another day. Another lesson taught. But for who? Me or Jack?