Broken (30 page)

‘My conscience,' replied Hilda, her black eyes fathomless.

Hannah, who hadn't taken her eyes off Mattie, suddenly dived forward and pulled at the scarf, which fell open enough to expose a blotchy dark purple section of bruised flesh.

‘Oh my god. Oh Jesus.'

‘Get off,' hissed Mattie, stepping back quickly.

‘Jesus,' repeated Hannah, sitting down hard on her chair.

‘You must help,' Hilda said to her. ‘You must stand by her.'

‘That's enough.' Mattie pointed first at Hilda and then Hannah. ‘You, and you. Get out. Both of you. Out now.'

‘This is your pride talking,' said Hilda, not moving. ‘Push it to one side and talk with your brain instead.'

‘Who are you to talk?' spat Mattie viciously, wanting to injure someone, anyone. ‘You've got the damn gall to drag my sister into
my
business
but where were
you
when
your
sister needed you? Well? Where were
you?'

Hilda went pale, her eyes standing out even more darkly.

‘Yes, that's right. You're a hypocrite, aren't you? And what's more –' Mattie stopped abruptly and stared at Hilda. Her pale, rigid face looked much more lined than usual and even though she hadn't dropped her gaze, her hands were clenched at the table edge, the whitened knuckles sharply delineating ridges of bone that rose from the wrinkled flesh. Mattie walked forward slowly and then flopped down onto her chair. What was she doing? What had she become?

‘I don't understand any of this,' said Hannah despairingly.

Mattie glanced at her sister and then back to Hilda. ‘I'm so sorry. God, I am so
so
sorry.'

‘That is all right. You were just lashing out.'

‘But that's unforgivable,' whispered Mattie. ‘You were only trying to help. Even if I think it's misguided . . . that's no excuse.'

‘I understand.'

Mattie felt the tears well up in her eyes and could not muster the willpower required to keep them at bay. Instead, they spilt over and then suddenly everything, all the emotion of the past few days, maybe even the past ten years, spewed up to the surface and gushed forth. And she buried her head in her arms on the table and started to cry. Not the soundless tears she usually cried, but huge gulping sobs that shook her body and throbbed through her aching head. Even so she felt Hannah draw the scarf all the way off, and she heard her quick intake of breath.

‘Jesus Christ.'

‘Yes,' said Hilda shortly. ‘He did it.'

That made Mattie cry even harder, and she felt she'd never be able to stop. She cried because she felt betrayed, and vulnerable, and humiliated, but most of all she cried because she simply couldn't help it. It was like a dam wall had broken and all her restraint was pouring out with the torrent. And after years of smiles and shrugs and subterfuge, it was suddenly out in the open and there was no way she could rein it back in again. They wouldn't let her, and besides, it probably wouldn't fit. Not anymore.

‘How did you know?' Hannah asked Hilda in a shocked whisper.

‘I suspected, from her face sometimes. I have seen it before, you see. But I did not know, not for sure, until Sunday night. I heard him yelling at her – yelling and yelling. And throwing her against the wall. And her screaming.'

‘Jesus.'

‘Stick by her,' said Hilda forcefully. ‘No matter if she stays with him or not.'

‘What do you mean? Of
course
she won't stay with him.'

‘Ah, you're thinking this was the first time, hey? But men like that do not wait ten years and then lash out. He is a cat, and she is his toy. This was not the first time, and it probably will not be the last.'

‘Are you saying that he hits her regularly?' asked Hannah disbelievingly. She shook Mattie's shoulder roughly. ‘Mattie, stop it. Stop it now. Tell me this never happened before.'

Mattie heard her, but only from a distance. It was as though Hannah was talking at the end of a tunnel, so that while her voice floated through the words made little sense. Her sobbing had started to abate but as it did, pain started to come. Pain in her throat, which had already been dry and sore, pain in her swollen eyes, pain in her head, which felt as thick and heavy as if she had the flu, and pain in her mind, which flinched away from the knowledge that Hannah and Hilda now knew.

‘Mattie? Tell me this was the first time.
Tell
me. What about the children? Does he hit the children?'

Mattie stood up, pushing the chair back so roughly that it toppled over and fell with a crash. The scarf slid off her shoulders to the floor but she ignored it. Because she had to get out of here, get away from the questions and the attention, escape. She folded her arms across her chest and started backing away ‘Excuse me.'

Hannah turned on her chair to watch her. ‘Where are you going?'

‘Just – away'. Mattie reached the lounge-room door.

‘Let her go,' said Hilda. ‘Give her a few minutes alone.'

Mattie fled to the bathroom. She stood before the vanity unit and then suddenly realised that she hadn't measured out her three steps to get there. She laughed at herself scornfully for even noticing.
Forget it.
It doesn't matter, it's only steps – it means nothing
. She stared at herself in the mirror but couldn't concentrate.
It does matter
. Quickly and quietly she backtracked to the lounge-room doorway and started again, this time doing it properly. Then she closed the door behind her and returned to the vanity, now seeing her reflection clearly.

She was a mess. Hair damp and tangled, nose running, eyes tiny and red under swollen, puffy lids, her face blotched and shiny. Mattie took a facecloth from the side of the bath and wet it thoroughly before laying it flat against her face. She couldn't tilt her head back because her neck was still too sore, so she stood straight and felt the facecloth leak water that dripped steadily down the front of her windcheater.

After a few minutes she took the facecloth off and threw it into the bath where it slapped against the enamel, sounding very much like the back of her skull when it had hit Max's picture. Mattie stared at the facecloth for a second and then shook her head. What was happening to her? Why was she falling apart like this? She took a deep breath, and another. Then she dried her face off with a towel, dabbed it against her chest, and ran a brush gently through her hair. It didn't make a huge difference, but it did make her look a bit more presentable. Last of all she washed her hands, hard, and mustered up every ounce of her energy in order to walk back out into the kitchen and try to minimise the mushroom cloud that was spreading over her exposure.

Hilda and Hannah stopped talking as soon as she came back into the kitchen, and both turned immediately to look at her. Hannah, now with a cup of tea in front of her, had been playing with the end of her plait, a sure sign she was distressed. As she sat down, Mattie tried to give them a reassuring smile but it folded in on itself and collapsed. She took a deep breath instead.

‘It's okay. I'm fine. And I'm sorry about before. All that crying. I don't know what came over me, I really don't.'

‘Maybe it all just caught up with you,' said Hilda. ‘But I shall leave you to discuss it with your sister. I am sorry if you think I stuck my nose in, Mattie. But I would do it again. And I will stop by either tomorrow or the next day. See how you are.' Hilda bent forward suddenly and
gave her a hug, which Mattie returned stiffly. She waited until she heard the front door close before turning back to Hannah.

‘Well, I'm sorry anyway You know I don't usually act like that.'

‘Whatever,' said Hannah dismissively. ‘Perfectly understandable. I just can't believe that . . . no, doesn't matter. But we need to get organised. Hilda's been telling me some background, about your type of . . . situation. And I think –'

‘Before you go any further –' Mattie held up a hand as she interrupted – ‘you need to know that this isn't as bad as it looks. Yes, I admit we had a fight, and I admit that Jake hurt me – but I hurt him too. I left him for starters, and he's absolutely terrified that our marriage is falling apart. So he's been drinking more than he should and naturally that hasn't helped matters. But these conclusions that Hilda's been jumping to are simply not –'

‘She said you'd say all that,' said Hannah, glancing down at Mattie's neck and visibly flinching.

Mattie put a hand up to her throat self-consciously. She opened her mouth but it dried before she could speak so she closed it again and swallowed painfully.

‘She also said that it'll only get worse.' Hannah sat back and looked at Mattie with angry bewilderment. ‘So for god's sake, Mattie, don't start making excuses for him. If he's so worried about your marriage, why is he doing
that
?' She pointed at the bruises and then let her hand fall as she shook her head. ‘No, there's
no
excuses. That's abuse. And we need to call the police.'

Mattie drew back, horrified. ‘The police!'

‘Yes, the police. Of course.'

‘I don't want to call the police!'

‘Mattie, he
assaulted
you. What, are you just going to let him get
away
with it?'

‘It's not like that.' Mattie shook her head. Her eyes felt sore and heavy and her head throbbed. She got up and took two painkillers from the medicine cabinet, swallowing them with water. Then she rinsed her hands off and stood against the bench, putting distance between herself and her sister. And her sister's suggestion.

‘Look, I understand you probably feel loyal to him. In fact, I understand a lot more now than I have before. Like why you moved out and took this unit. Why you went to Mum's last year. What I
don't
understand is – why didn't you tell me?'

‘It's not as simple as that.'

‘Didn't you trust me?'

‘It's not about trust.' Mattie shook her head. ‘This is
my
marriage. You don't tell me the personal stuff that goes on in your marriage, do you? So why would I tell you?'

‘But this is different.' Hannah looked upset. ‘This goes way beyond privacy. Look at you! He
hit
you. He's a
wife
-beater.'

‘Don't be ridiculous,' said Mattie derisively. ‘He may have a problem with his temper, but you're acting like he's some sort of criminal.'

‘Well, he
is
!'

Mattie folded her arms across her chest. ‘We're not going to get anywhere if you keep talking like that. Look, I admit there's a problem here and, yes, that's why I went to Mum's last year and that's also why I'm now living in this unit. But let's not make a huge deal of it.' Mattie paused when she saw her sister's expression. ‘Okay that wasn't put very well. What I meant was that it's under control.'

‘Under control!'

‘Yes. I'm handling things the best I know how.'

‘Mattie, you've got huge bruises around your neck. And goodness knows what other bruises you've got that are hidden. You're not
handling
it, you're just
surviving
it.'

‘I know what I'm doing,' replied Mattie stubbornly.

‘Does Mum know?'

‘No, and you must promise not to tell her!' Mattie jumped forward and grabbed Hannah's arm. ‘Promise you won't tell her! Or Stuart either. No-one!'

‘Mattie, if you think I can just go home and pretend this didn't happen, you're nuts. In fact, I've got a good mind to go straight over to Jake's office now and –'

‘No
!' Mattie screamed into her sister's face. Wide-eyed, Hannah recoiled and her obvious shock jolted Mattie, who took a step backwards.
They stared at each other for a few long moments and then Hannah's eyes flicked down to the bruises that ringed her sister's neck. Mattie slid into Hilda's vacated seat and put her head in her hands.

‘Mattie, look at me.' Hannah gently tried to pry one of her hands loose.

Mattie took her sister's hand and stared down as she covered it. ‘I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that. It's just you don't understand.'

‘You always say that. But then you never try to explain either.'

‘It's just so hard
to
explain.' Mattie took a deep breath. ‘Like, if I say it out loud, it doesn't even make sense to me.'

Hannah looked at her steadily. ‘Well, try anyway. Please?'

‘First, you have to know I really am doing the best I can. I'm not saying I haven't made mistakes here, but maybe they're mistakes I had to make to get to where I am now.'

‘And where are you now?' asked Hannah softly.

Mattie looked down at her hand as it held her sister's. She let her mind flit to the other night, when she had fled the unit and had watched Jake stand in the doorway as he searched the darkness for her. There had been none of the loving, laughing Jake there – just the silhouette of a menace so petrifying that her breath caught in her throat for fear of being heard. From there she moved straight to the visual image of her two children, faces pressed against the glass as they watched their mother scurry away, beaten and humiliated. And then, barely a week later, they heard her screams and then peered down a dark passageway to see her being choked by their father. And had to run back to bed not knowing whether she was alive or dead.

Mattie blinked, and the images faded. What was it that Hannah had asked her?
Where are you now?
She looked back up at her sister's face and flinched from the pity that she saw there, immediately letting go of her sister's hand and folding her arms across her chest protectively. She didn't want pity, not at all, it only made the humiliation worse.

‘Mattie?' prompted Hannah softly.