It didn’t matter anymore; we were free. Nearly.
Hand in hand we set off again, a couple of shoeless waifs and strays. I silently prayed; please let someone be in at the neighbour’s house, please. I didn’t know their names; how particularly humiliating for this to be our first formal introductions. A couple in their forties or thereabout, whom I’d only ever waved at in passing from time to time. But as the imposing grey granite house came into view, I heard the inimitable rumble closing from behind. It was possibly still a few hundred metres away, thankfully out of sight; obscured by bends in the country lane. I couldn’t let you catch us. We couldn’t go back now. Or ever. Irreversibly, you had overstepped even your concealed mark, and poor Jack; Jack had witnessed, heard far too much. Things that would without any doubt inhabit his conscience for the rest of his life.
I clutched Jack’s cold arms, yanking him up to me. And ran.
‘Jack, quick, we need to hide; we need to find somewhere to hide. I can hear his car, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.’
At the first opening, I trudged through thick gummy bog as the ground tried to suck us under. The cold sludge squelched between my toes as we slipped and stumbled on. Sheer bloody resolve mixed with terror allowed us through. We continued down the edge of the field before I plunged us both deep into the thick hedgerow. The week before, Jack and I had stood the other side picking cobnuts. Those same branches scratched at sore arms. Biting at my purple bruising. The first drops of blood appeared and smeared against Jack’s taupe trousers. His little face, horrified, as he tenderly touched my bottom lip, holding up his finger to show me: we matched. He appeared so abnormally calm but I could feel his heart thrashing out of time against mine. But we were together, and alive.
‘What we doing, Mummy?’ he eventually whispered. ‘Is Daddy goin’ to get us? Is he goin’ to hurt us, Mummy?’ I heard him; I didn’t know how to answer. I didn’t know the answer. I couldn’t afford for him to feel safe just yet. I didn’t want to frighten him either. I bit my tongue as it longed to reassure him.
‘Shush, darling. We need to keep very, very still. Shush now. It will be okay as long as we keep very quiet, very still.’ Words no three-year old could possibly be expected to understand. Let alone the circumstances. ‘Like a game of hide and seek. It is so important we keep very quiet. Try not to move, Jack. Try your hardest for Mummy, please.’
As I kissed the top of his head I heard the murmurs of a silent cry. Then a whimper. I held and squeezed him as tightly as I could without crushing his small icy body. As from somewhere behind, slithering over us, came the shadow of your dark car, ever so gradually creeping by. I stopped breathing. It slowed to a forbidding stop. No sound. I couldn’t even hear us breathing. I couldn’t feel our heartbeats. I waited, we waited, not a word was uttered between us. We both fully understood the importance of what hung on the next few moments. Shivering, as I felt my body temperature rise. Freezing, yet sweating. Still silence.
I caught the release of a car door. Then, more silence. I gripped Jack firmer. I could feel your cool anger through the bracken. Could you smell our fear? I couldn’t see anything through the density but your closeness was palpable. Standing a few feet away on the other side. A few menacing inches away. The smell of your aftershave assaulting my senses. I held Jack’s head tightly to my chest, shielding his ears. I pictured you in my mind’s eye; with one narcissistic foot touching smooth tarmac. Leaning on the immaculate roof of your low-slung Porsche. Scanning the area, listening. Attentive and waiting. Just another sick game for you. A game you needed to win. But I needed to win more.
Jack unsurprisingly let out the start of another terrified whimper. I stifled his mouth with my hand, hoping he hadn’t been heard. Clasping his cold cheeks in my hand, I kissed the top of his head, staring into his blue eyes, silently pleading him to hold on. Trust me. I couldn’t speak; it was far too risky. We crouched together for what felt such a long time, holding our breath as if submerged under water. We needed to resurface soon. We couldn’t go on for much longer. Jack especially.
I heard movement from the other side. You were out of the car. Your self-assured footsteps prowled to my left. Making their way towards what I could only imagine to be the field entrance. Where we’d lumbered through just moments before. Could you make out my footprints? Why hadn’t I thought of that? Holding an already fully constricted Jack, I somehow managed to squash us down even further into the abrasive undergrowth. As if without bones. Desperately attempting to time any noise of our movement with the noise of your leather soles on the tarmacked lane. Please, God, someone help us. Please, let us be invisible.
Your X-ray eyes surveyed our proximity. Glaring in our direction, directly at the shrubbery. I could feel them. I didn’t dare look up. I didn’t need to. Just one further malevolent step forward and I was sure you would see us. We were drowning, held down by your presence, your being. Sinless fear. Dark and darker. I felt myself slipping. I felt Jack slipping; his body became a dead weight. Was it the shrubbery? Was it the terror? Or had we finally passed out? A trickle of sweat and a further sniffle from Jack hurled me back to the moment.
What were you waiting for? Enjoying the moment? Knowing you didn’t need to move. Standing watching us. Biding your time. Laughing at our pathetic actions, our attempts to escape your prison. I pictured you looking at the boggy field entrance; understanding your dilemma, trying to decide if it was worth ruining expensive shoes for. Looking at my bare footprints, realising you didn’t need to do anything. You simply needed to wait. Prolong our agony and wait. It would soon be dark. I couldn’t survive without you for much longer, could I? Why spoil the fun? After a few moments your footsteps retraced. We took a gulp of air.
Then, the words, ‘I know you are there, Eve,’ stole my heart.
I was beaten, with no choice but to relent, despite my resolve to escape. My fear for Jack. The cold air, our isolation, thieved our options. I convinced myself it was only me you would hurt. Not Jack. But then Jack was your weapon. Your pawn. You knew the only true way to hurt me, to control me, was to hurt Jack. But with no phone, in the freezing plummeting temperatures, I would have to walk into the lion’s snare. I hated myself for it. I was trapped. As always. I dragged exhausted legs back through the field entrance and surrendered. You were sitting in the car, reading a newspaper, until your eyes met mine in the rear-view mirror. I saw you smile. Jack sobbed as you climbed from the car to greet your family, looking to my feet in disgust. Your car had not long been valeted. You calmly strode towards us shaking your head, tutting.
‘You took your time, Eve,’ you said, reaching out. ‘Come to Daddy, Jack. What has your mummy done to you?’ You clasped Jack’s waist, and he dug his feet into me, tightening his grip around my neck. I swayed him away from your touch.
‘Don’t touch him,’ I reproached.
‘Stop being so fucking stupid. What else will you do? Catch a bus maybe? Call a friend? Your parents perhaps?’ You smiled in a sympathetic manner; a true impressionist.