We make idle chat, delaying and putting off the very point of my two closest friends being here. I’m worried my past is about to dirty my present, soiling its purity and changing it forever. I jump up and pad to the bottom of the stairs. From here I can just make out if Jack’s bedroom door is still closed. It is. I return to the warm shadows of my sanctuary, wary of my quickening heart rate. I open my mouth like some kind of gulping monkfish but nothing comes out. The room takes on an icy chill, yet the fire still burns.
Ruan wanders back, balancing plates, while he samples a forkful of cake.
‘Okay, you two, so this is what you’ve been patiently waiting for, the juicy gossip.’ They glance at each other. ‘It’s fine. I can understand where you’re coming from.’
‘No one understands where Bea’s coming from – even she doesn’t get that,’ Ruan interrupts. Bea slaps his leg, scowling at him.
‘Go on,’ she urges me.
‘Can I just say, despite my flippancy, this really is so tough, I can’t possibly relay how badly I didn’t want to discuss my past? I or we, me and Jack, needed desperately to move on, to push it all to the backs of our minds. But obviously, I no longer have the choice. Poor Jack, he’s already been through the unthinkable.’ Neither Bea nor Ruan move or speak, both studying me with despondent eyes. Whilst I appreciate the care, the sympathy hurts all the more.
‘I’ve been silly not to have explained before now. Selfish, I guess, too.’ Even so, as I prepare to disclose I’m only too aware of how skimpy with the details I propose to be. No more lying, just withholding details; especially the darkest ones, the depth of my pain with it. Unsure who I’m protecting – them or me? It could alter their perception of me, forever. How would I cope with this?
‘Even Jack hasn’t spoken much on the subject, since we arrived in Cornwall. It was supposed to be a clean break. I hope you can both understand. On a daily basis, I see, behind the eyes, the damage our past has done to Jack.’ Sometimes he reacts to situations, people, in a certain manner, slightly out of context, but I understand why. But does he? Although I’ve always reassured him he can talk, he hasn’t. ‘He’s needed the time to heal and grow.’ The memories will always be lodged deep in the emotional brain; anticipating, lingering just in case. Filed away like a ghastly nightmare. As if it were a disturbing horror film we’ve shared, since then we’ve striven hard to distort the images, sounds and words. A temporary fa?ade, a sleeping monster. Smaug.
‘Oh, Eve, has it really been so awful for you both?’ Bea breathes out.
‘To be honest, I’m not even sure where to begin. I can’t quite find the words.’ I turn my attention to the amber flames of the fire, reaching high up the chimney. ‘Perhaps, if I begin with the end, the last time I saw Jack’s…’ The word glues itself to the back of my throat. But it’s who you are.
Bea bails me out. ‘Him, Eve, him. We know who you mean. Go on.’
I nod. ‘You must have thought it odd, I won’t have him mentioned or named. You don’t need to answer that, by the way, I know. I see it in your eyes.’ They both nod. ‘The thing is, we didn’t simply part company. Things happened.’ I’m trying to get to that last night we saw you, but my words seem so small in comparison.
‘I must stipulate, it was anything but a normal relationship, ever. I speak on both our behalves. It was vile. He was, is, vile. The calculating, unscrupulous rule of his rendered our lives hell. He was also cunning, powerful, exceptionally shrewd and an engineered social god. Eventually, he did leave, but not in the fashion you suppose he did, or in the way I’ve expressed. To be honest, if I dare use the phrase, the fine detail here isn’t necessary. It would take too long to substantiate, for one thing. Nor am I up to it.’ Here I go again, shut-door policy. Although I may now benefit from some support, as I did last night, ultimately I’m alone with this. You. I’m also far too ashamed to entirely divulge.
The room is quiet except for the crackle of the fire and the hum of Jack’s music. Am I betraying him all over again? He should be down here, involved in this conversation, but I don’t want him to be. I cannot contemplate yet another embezzled night for him because of you, bastard of a so-called father. I want to leave him in blissful ignorance, for all I can.
‘Did he hurt you, Eve?’ Bea softly enquired.
‘I’m not sure hurt pays it justice. This is the problem – anything I relay to you can’t possibly do it justice. Not when you’re existing as we did seven days a week.’
‘No, of course not. I understand.’
I know she’s being kind, but those last words are the precise ones to shut the door. How can anyone understand unless they’ve been in a comparable situation? I smile at her; she’s sincere in her concern. I am grateful for this.
‘There’s no simple way of saying this.’ I look at Ruan, who has finished his cake, now removing the remains of imaginary crumbs from his mouth with the back of his hand. ‘So, the last time we saw him. We were already divorced, had been for some time. Dragged through the family courts, the financial courts, you name it.’ I shake my head. ‘Another story. Then, out of the blue, one night, he turned up at our house, forced us into his car.’ I see Bea open her lips to speak but I press on. I need to spit this out. ‘Things happened, he crashed the car. Then vanished,’ I splutter. It’s out, the first time I have ever articulated this story. Done. I take a long breath in, filling my lungs with resigned air.
Ruan sits forward, rubbing his forehead. ‘He crashed the car?’
I nod. ‘Left us for dead.’
‘He left you for dead? Jack’s dad did? What, on purpose?’ Bea struggles.
The expression on Bea’s face smacks of reality. How have we lived alone with this for so long? ‘Jack’s father, yes, Bea. Crashed the car then left us. Ran off into the night. We were badly hurt and alone.’ I taste metallic terror as the memories of the night flash at high speed through my mind, a train pummelling tracks through a Tube station. Blurred images everywhere. I’ve opened one of the doors, now the flashbacks pick up pace, as the smell of burning rubber, the sound of screeching tyres hammers at my consciousness. My chest tightens; I fight to breathe. Someone is sitting on my chest. I breathe out but cannot breathe in, my torso constricts with the grip of the seat belt. Tighter and tighter. The oxygen leaves my head as it floats away with the images. I’m struggling. Drowning, submerged under deep icy water. Shivering.
Breathe. Breathe. In through the nose. Five. Out through the nose. Seven. Count, for God’s sake.
‘Eve?’ A low and distant mottled voice calls. Bea’s voice. But it’s so distant. ‘Eve?’
Heat everywhere. I’m burning now, on fire. I try to stand; if I get myself moving, I can break the hold of panic. A soft hand takes mine. ‘Sit back down, Eve,’ she gently advises. But I need to walk. I clamber through to the kitchen, open the back door; the cold air slaps my face. Leaning in the doorway, I begin to slow my breathing. I stand in silence for a while, looking out into the dark. Are you there? Smirking, high on my low? I slam the door, treading back the few steps until I’m back in the front room. Safe. But for how long?
Ruan kneels down in front of me clutching a glass of water, offering it to my lips, as if I’m a small child. And that’s how I feel. Again.
‘Thank you.’ I take a grateful sip. Silence. ‘That was the last time we saw him.’
‘Eve?’ Bea shakes her head. ‘Sorry, nothing,’ she says.
‘It’s okay, Bea. What were you going to ask me?’
‘You said he forced you, so he took you against your will? So he what – kidnapped you? Then there was a car accident?’ probes Bea.
‘Not an accident. I meant what I said – he crashed the car. I can’t be completely sure he intended to kill us, but my heart tells me he did. But, yes, he took us against our will. Call it what you like.’