The Doll's House

Dominic tells me to be quiet. He says he needs to work something out. Part of me thinks he wants to talk more, but another part is wondering if even now it’s too late for both of us.

Even within this madness, at times I feel it’s just him and me, the same way as we have been our whole lives. At others, I feel I’m here with a stranger, someone out of control. He’s quiet and still now, but I know he could turn back into the monster I saw earlier, the one who stabbed Alister Becon, the one I’m most afraid of.

I need my brother, and to get him back, I need him to talk. On my hunkers, I move until I’m flat against the attic wall, beneath the eagle, saying, more calmly than I feel, ‘Dominic, you were going to tell me why Alister Becon expected Martin.’

‘Was I?’ He sounds as if he can’t remember what happened a few moments earlier, his anger again replaced by confusion.

‘Yes, you were.’ I try to sound reassuring.

‘Your husband is a fool.’

‘Please tell me, Dominic.’

He pulls his fingers through his hair, looking down to the floor, a chilled edge returning to his voice as he says, ‘Alister had Martin keep an eye on you. He was never fully sure what you’d seen or heard back then, even if you were only a child. People were less guarded around you. You had gaps in memory, and he preferred it that way. This hypnosis business had him spooked. He wasn’t worried about either of us witnessing the attack on Mum, that was immaterial to him, but he had played his role in covering up the death of the baby. He couldn’t afford to take that risk. Alister Becon doesn’t like people or things he can’t control.’

‘When did you find out Becon had covered it up?’ But I can already guess the answer.

‘Mum told me before she died. She swore to Becon she would never tell anyone, especially Keith Jenkins. But Becon had come to see her at the hospital. She said she needed me to know.’

‘What has Martin to do with it?’

‘Money – he was feeling squeezed. Martin was Alister’s backup plan.’

‘How do you know all this?’

He stares at me, and I’m not sure but I think there are more tears in his eyes.

‘I’ve been watching everyone for months, since Mum became ill, you, Martin, Becon, Jenkins, Gahan, everyone.’ Again he runs his fingers through his hair, as if to calm himself. ‘I haven’t been able to sleep. I haven’t been able to do anything much, except …’

‘Except what, Dominic?

‘Sort things out, Clodagh. Mum might have shared some secrets with me, but she never said Dad’s death was suicide. Finding that out changed everything. I no longer had any other choice.’ He looks at Becon’s blood drying into the floorboards. ‘That arsehole thought he was using me, telling me how he was the good guy, blaming Jenkins for the affair, and Gahan for the rest of it. He figured I was like the old man, easy pickings. But he didn’t know I’d recognised him for the sick fucker he was.’

‘But he used you, Dominic.’ I know my words are dangerous.

‘No, Clodagh, you’re wrong. I used him. All along I was using him. One by one, each of them needed to pay the price.’

‘But I still don’t understand. He expected Martin today? This doesn’t make any sense.’ Again I know I am walking some kind of treacherous tightrope.

‘I made Martin send a text to Alister,’ Dominic says slowly. ‘He told him you’d worked something out. Alister would have known that meant something dangerous for him. The plan was that if you got too close to something, Martin would make it look like suicide.’

‘I don’t believe you.’

‘Believe what you like. It didn’t take much to get Martin talking. He was always a snivelling baby at heart. Clodagh, you were an easy target. It wouldn’t have been difficult for him. Goddamn it, you don’t think he loved you?’

‘No, not any more.’ I take a deep breath and exhale.

‘Money makes people do lots of things.’ The harshness is back in his voice. ‘Alister would have found Martin easier than most. I’d have killed him too, only Alister had to be next, then …’ He turns the bloodied knife in his hand.

‘Dominic, this is crazy. You need help, do you hear me?’ I move closer to him, pulling myself across the floor. ‘You’re not thinking right – you’re distraught.’ I’m pleading again.

‘I chose her over him, Clodagh. I kept her secrets.’

‘But you didn’t kill him, Dominic. You weren’t the reason Dad died. He killed himself. We were only children.’

‘Only children,’ he repeats, as if the words are alien to him. ‘Everyone killed him, Clodagh.’ The crazed look is back in his eyes. ‘Mum, Jenkins, Gahan, Becon and finally …’ He stops, as if he has already said too much.

‘Dominic, don’t shut me out.’ My voice is filled with the hurt of being excluded for years, the truth hidden from me for as long as I can remember.

‘Don’t you see, Clodagh? There is no other way.’ He tilts the knife again.