Think, Eve, think. What to do?
It took me a while to remove myself from the chest and room. I glanced at the hallway clock over the galleried landing. I was taking far too long; I needed to get out. Why was it taking me so long to leave? I’d planned to leave hours ago. Still, you said you wouldn’t be returning until very late. I ran down the stairs, gathering and hurling belongings into the boot of my car. Not wanting to transfer my panic, I decided I would offer Jack refreshments before the start of our journey. My heart jabbing at my T-shirt, I couldn’t stomach any food, despite being aware of my cortisol-filled light head.
‘Come on, sweetheart.’ I held out my hand for his. ‘Milk and a biscuit?’
‘No, Mummy, want it in here. Please. This, my favrit bit!’
Normally, he wouldn’t be allowed to drink or especially eat crumbly biscuits in the sitting room. But this was time to mark new beginnings; new rules, or just fewer of them.
‘Why not, sweetheart? Why not? Mummy will bring it to you.’
I made sandwiches to keep us going; selected some other nibbles and drinks. Checked my bag for one final time, whilst willing Jack to hurry; I was beginning to feel exceptionally jumpy. I needed to leave, but didn’t want to unnerve Jack any more than absolutely necessary. What was the panic? I’d plenty of time, I reassured myself. Everything was packed, ready, all I could need, just in case. So one more mendacious act couldn’t possibly hurt.
I placed our shoes and coats next to the front door. Then made my way to your study. I’m not sure why but a gut feeling whispered in my ear to take your flash-drive. It was still there. You usually kept it under lock and key, with your mobile. Jack would still be a few minutes. I decided to check – no point in taking something to anger you unnecessarily, if it held no use for me. Your laptop was password protected, so I fetched the family laptop from the kitchen, booted it up and inserted the flash-drive. Hopping from foot to foot, willing the process to speed up. Finally, the option to open several files appeared. The latest with the date of the previous evening. I clicked it. One minute later, I closed it down as my body temperature soared; I couldn’t bring myself to observe any longer. I needed to get out of the contaminated house. You were evil, and the flash-drive could prove useful. Protection. Proof of something I didn’t want to know about.
‘Mummy’s just going to the bathroom, Jack. Then I’m afraid we need to turn this off.’
‘Oww,’ a small voice came back.
‘I know, sweetheart, but we’re going on a surprise adventure. Remember; a kind of holiday. How about that for exciting?’
‘Yay. But Daddy’s not coming, is he, Mummy?’
‘No, Jack, Daddy can’t come.’ Please help me God.
I was drying my hands upstairs when I heard it, the thump of the front door. No, please, no. You cannot be home, I silently prayed. I tentatively crept around the landing, then slowly moved down the stairs as my worst thoughts were confirmed. I could hear you, shuffling around in the study, muttering under your breath. What were you doing home?
‘Eve!’ you commanded. I didn’t need a scene. If I cooperated, you would leave again, I hoped. Then it struck me: what if you were looking for—?
‘Eve!’
‘Yes, Gregg, no need to shout. What is it?’ I took steps into your study.
‘Have you touched my laptop?’
‘No, why would I?’ I lied.
‘Because something is missing.’
I felt the beginnings of a blush. Why did I have to be such a bad liar? You moved from your desk to take my chin in your hand, tilting it backwards. Your lips a millimetre from my cheekbone, you snarled, ‘You’re a liar.’ I stumbled backwards; one sharp move away from snapping my neck in your grip.
‘Gregg, please. I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ Please don’t find my handbag, I prayed.
You released me and stalked back towards your desk. Picked up the glass paperweight, then hurled it at the oak door. You were losing control; you didn’t understand the alien feeling. It was more frightening for me too. As you turned without words and moved back towards me, I tasted each step draw closer.
Not now, not now, please. I’m so close to leaving.
The force of your recoil flung me to the remorseless floor; my already bruised ribs ached with repetitive strain. Don’t let go, Eve, don’t let go, you’re nearly there. I sheltered my face as usual, repeating: not long now, not long now. Do. Not. Give. Up. Now.
I opened my jaw and released it, to check my face was still whole. Through the haze I heard a small voice, shrieking from the doorway, then it froze. You froze. You didn’t want Jack to find out who you were, did you? Everyone immobilised. I took my moment. I somehow stood, swiped up Jack, scrambled through the hall, bouncing off walls, and managed to finally sling open the front door.
Jack held tightly in my arms, I ran as quickly as my bare feet would allow. Why hadn’t I put my shoes on first? Because time wouldn’t have allowed it. We ran, half focusing ahead and half with eyes behind us in fear you would be following. We had no time; we had to get away. We had nothing, Jack and I, nothing; no time to collect our things, no time to collect our coats. It was freezing outside but I don’t think either of us felt it, at that point.
I had no car keys, no house keys, no money, no bag, no change of clothes for Jack, no food and no phone. But then who would I have called anyway? I didn’t have anyone left to call. Not strictly true – there were people to call; it was more, no one was aware of my situation. Anyone I’d have called would have been deeply shocked, requiring explanations. Stories, the lies, years of covering up and more, all the unimportant matters I didn’t want to be concerned with.
I felt Jack’s chubby hands holding on tightly to my hair tied at the back of my neck. It pulled and stung but didn’t matter; at least I knew he was with me. He was heavy to run with but it didn’t matter either. He didn’t speak, neither did I, not for a little while. We just scarpered, clinging onto hope. I didn’t even know what I was going to do, or where I was going to go. I only focused on increasing the distance between us and the house. Listening all the time for the roar of your engine. I knew if I could keep moving at a pace, I would eventually reach our nearest neighbour; about two kilometres away. Once I cleared the immediate parameters, I would need to put Jack down; he quickly became too heavy for jelly-like legs. The fight or flight borrowed charge would run out at some point. But I was worried Jack would not be able to move his little legs quickly enough, especially without his shoes, on the cold harsh tarmac.
Eventually, I buckled and positioned him down in front of me, taking his tiny hand in mine. I peered at his pink frightened face. I didn’t have much time. I needed him to stay as calm as he possibly could. Not easy, especially as I was anything but calm. Focused and determined, but inside the panic gripped. He looked deep into my eyes. I recognised the expression: unadulterated fear and bewilderment.
‘It’s okay, Jack, Mummy knows where we’ll go. Everything’s going to be okay. Trust me, darling, please. I promise, Mummy will sort it. Please try not to be scared.’
He didn’t speak; he didn’t know how to or what to say. He simply nodded. I pulled him in for a hug. As I did, I noticed my bare arms, turning from a pinky red to a blueish purple. I hated to think what my face looked like. I wished I could have explained it merely as the effect of the extreme cold and inappropriate attire, but it was, I expected, more to do with the beating. The pummelling and the booting. A vile metallic taste of blood and a slow-motion flashback of hard knuckles to chin bone. A new form of attack. Just how far were you going to go this time, if it weren’t for Jack? Would it have been lights out for me?