Eloquent Silence (12 page)

Read Eloquent Silence Online

Authors: Margaret Weise

Tags: #mother’, #s love, #short story collection, #survival of crucial relationships, #family dynamics, #Domestic Violence

BOOK: Eloquent Silence
8.05Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Before long their two cousins of a similar age, Kate and Molly, daughters of Conrad’s sister, Erika and her husband, Max Brown, had made it known that they would enjoy the getting of some religion as well.

Sandy-haired and ruddy-faced with a little beer-gut beginning to grow, Max used to bring his daughters to town while Erika stayed home with her other smaller daughters. Very generously, Max offered to collect Annie’s girls and take them to the church. Then he would return to have a coffee with Annie while all the little girls partook of religious instructions, a little social activity organized in the name of a family outing.

This worked well for a little while but as the weeks went by, Max became more and more friendly until, almost bursting with friendliness he informed Annie,

‘While the kids are all away it would be a good time for you and me to have a little cuddle and get to know each other a bit better. We’d have the best part of an hour. Conrad’s always off playing cricket or golf or bowls. Who’s to know?’

He sidled up to her ponging of stale sweat and maleness, his heavy face darkened with blood. She took one look at his big crooked teeth and for a moment her mind went blank with horror. His straggly whiskers hid a weak chin and an indifferent face.

But the main abhorrence she felt was towards the fact that he was her brother-in-law. Nor was she about to give Conrad any further ammunition for his regular fits of jealousy.

‘Do you think I’m crazy, Max,’ Annie replied haughtily. ‘Come to think of it, are you crazy?’ She threw her hands up in disbelief that any man could be so stupid as to foul his own nest in this way. But then, Max had never shown a propensity for much nous. Not the brightest light in the chandelier, are you, Max, Annie thought as she stared at him in disgust.

‘Just our little secret, Annie. Come on. Be a sport.’ He placed a weather-beaten hand on her shoulder as she passed him to go outside and be visible to anyone passing by the street should he not desist.

‘No way. Give over or I’ll tell Conrad and Erika. You’d better be getting down there to pick up all those little girls. Just remember I’ll rat on you if you don’t call a halt to this foolishness.’ Annie was nervous about the whole incident, aware that Conrad had never taken her side in any matter and would not be about to start now with one of his family.

Unfortunately this threat was not enough to make Max pull his head in.  Each Sunday morning the sham was repeated until Annie could take it no longer and informed Conrad.

Hopefully, he would have a quiet man-to-man talk with Max and put an end to the whole shemozzle.

However, Conrad was not of the disposition to take the easier way offered and slammed out the door. He thumped noisily down the steps and banged the door of his pickup as he prepared to back out of the yard at a million miles an hour. Off he went to confront Max in front of his wife, Conrad’s mild-mannered sister, Erica.

Before long he came storming home, throwing himself down in front of the television. He refused to speak to Annie, clutching the television remote control in his big-knuckled, grimy hands fresh from working on the machinery in the yard.

The phone rang and she answered, knowing already that she had been assumed to be in the wrong.

The usually placid Erica was furious with her and siding with her ever-loving Max.

‘Conrad said you said Max propositioned you. How dare you stoop to such lies? You’re nothing but a bloody little troublemaker. Max won’t be picking your children up for Sunday School in the future, you can bet your life on that.’ Bang.

‘Who was that on the phone?’ he asked rudely.

‘Erica. She seems to have taken the attitude that I’ve been leading Max on until he got a bit excited and let him make a fool of himself.’ Annie was grossly mortified as of all the family, Erica was the one she had the most time for. Now Erica would look at her in the light of being a scarlet woman and their relationship was as good as ruined.

‘I told you I wouldn’t put up with any nonsense,’ Conrad said through the usual clenched teeth. ‘You’d better apologize to Max and Erica for causing him to step out of line.’

‘In a pig’s eye I’ll apologize,’ she snorted on a wave of disgust.

Thank God for that thought Annie as she slunk away to lick her wounds. Tried and found wanting as usual. Always the one in the wrong. Always take the side of the opposition, Conrad, that’s a good husband.

––––––––

D
istant flashes of similar experiences ran through Annie’s head as she waited to be free to move away from her captor. She shifted uncomfortably from leg to leg as she felt his head on her abdomen, myriads of thoughts and memories rolling through her mind as she tried to think of a way to go on living this horrifying life. Her mouth smiled at him in forgiveness but her eyes despised him.

‘Jesus, I love you and the kids,’ he sobbed, his voice cracking as he held his bull-necked head against her and moaned in sympathy with himself.

‘I know,’ she whispered bitterly. And all I feel for you is fear and loathing.

‘You mustn’t leave, Annie. If you do it will cost the partnership a lot. I will have to write you off as a partner and I’ll have to pay a lot more tax if it’s a single income. And were in partnership, also, with Arnold and Bertha. It would cost them big bickies, too. Arnold would be livid.’

Where he previously been enjoying his regular tantrum, suddenly he had realized that the  letting off of steam he indulged in so compulsively could cost him serious money. This was a different matter, one to be regarded as noteworthy.

‘Do you think for moment that will keep me bound and gagged for the rest of my life, Conrad? It’s not worth it to me,’ Annie told him, backing away out of reach.

‘Obstinate bitch.’ His temper again flared, but she was out of reach and running around the back of the house to where he would not find her until he had cooled down a little.

She was afraid that he was one of the ones who loved their wives so much that they had to resort to killing them in order to control them.

What he attempted to do, what he thought he achieved best; was to wreck her and then try to make it all right. To build her up into a whole human being again, perhaps even built up enough to believe that things would improve, stabilize, normalize.

Each time he appeared to think he had made it all right, but every time was a step further towards the train crash.

Every time he simply took another slice out of her soul until there was little of any worth left.

Later, when she thought it was safe, she returned to the kitchen to find he had settled down. Her face was damp, swollen with crying and flushed with distress. He saw none of this, but smiled at her lovingly.

‘Hi, sweets. You were a long time out in the lavatory. Will be good when we get an indoor toilet. Should be next year, they say.’

Tongue-tied, she tried to move warily past him and could think of nothing to say to him. He grabbed her firmly and planted a kiss on her tear-stained cheek.

‘Tonight’s the night, hey, Darls?’

––––––––

H
e bathed while she perched in the compulsory position she was forced to take when the mood was upon him, sitting on the side of the bath tub. This was his ultimate sign of approval—to invite her to watch him bathe. For the rest of the night she would be the world’s greatest wife and mother.

Later, he made numerous phone calls to his customers. He ate his dinner and actually praised the onion gravy. All was well for that night. The moment had passed and been lived through. He had intercourse rapidly, unemotionally, then he slept contentedly, the sleep of the just man who has done a good day’s work as an admirable husband and father.

At 2a.m. he woke and reached for Annie, shaking her by the shoulders to wake her from her deep slumber. This was one of his less endearing traits, to wake her from a deep sleep for intercourse no matter how difficult her day had been.

Her long brown hair fell in a heavy sweep across her face. Surprised and still half asleep, she asked, ‘What’s wrong?’

Nausea hit her like a hammer. She leapt out of bed and ran to the bathroom, violently ill for the third time in as many days.

She washed her face and drew a clean nightgown over her thin, gaunt body. After bearing her children she had been softly rounded but her plump healthiness had disappeared as a result of the ever-increasing anxiety and strain.

‘What’s the matter with you now,’ Conrad asked in disgust as she crawled back into the double bed.

‘I don’t know. Must be something I ate,’ she told him briefly as she pulled the bedclothes over herself. She felt an irrational desire to burst into a fit of the giggles. If only it was something I ate! How easy that would be.

‘Come on. Let’s get on with it,’ Conrad said, slipping his hands beneath her nightgown.

‘Oh, no, Conrad, not now,’ she pleaded, trying to turn her back on him as further waves of nausea threatened to engulf her again.

He held her firmly to him and began to kiss her roughly, his stubbly chin rubbing hard against her bruised mouth and cheek.

‘My mouth’s still sore from that clout you gave me,’ she said, pulling away as best she could.

‘I told you not to mention that again. Come on, love. Don’t just lie there like a log! Let’s have a little smooch,’ he persuaded, tugging at her shoulder. His voice was sharp, irritated. She should know by now that he must be obeyed at all times, but especially in the bedroom.

‘Leave me be. I’m sick,’ she begged, starting to cry, knowing he was utterly heartless and would not give up easily. Now was definitely not the time for a sparring match, the moment to tell him of the suspicions she had about a new life. She was cold and sick and doubted if she would be able to get back to sleep easily.

‘Christ, you’re a selfish bitch,’ he concluded as he flung himself over onto his side.

With an overwhelming sense of relief, Annie turned her back on him. It’s as if he must defeat and demolish me, she thought sadly. Insane control freak, unfortunately.

‘Who are you saving it for?’ he yelled into the darkness, waking David in the next room.

‘Tomorrow, Conrad. We’ll do it tomorrow,’ she promised with a wild edge to her voice as she got out of bed to soothe David, tired to mindlessness with the strain of it all.

She was still caught up in the paralysis of indecision, sick with dread and pregnancy, powerless and out of control.

––––––––

A
t daybreak they woke to teeming rain. Conrad threw his brawny forearm across his forehead and groaned.

‘Won’t be any harvesting today,’ he muttered, rolling over and promptly going back to sleep.

Annie lay quietly, trying not to draw attention to herself, waiting for the time to come to start the daily routine. At seven she rose to get the children ready for their day. David said he felt well enough to go to Kinder. She fed her children and they dressed, the girls in their blue uniforms and yellow blouses for school and David for Kinder in his checked shirt and jeans.

‘Isn’t Dad going to work?’ the little wisp of a girl, Ruth, asked anxiously. Her voice was barely more than a whisper, her eyes round in anticipation of  what would happen to her mother while they were all away for the day.

‘No, love. It’s too wet for him to work,’ Annie replied automatically, continuing to make the toast and cook bacon and eggs. Conrad had to have meat three times a day, meat at every meal. He showed no interest in what the other members of his family ate whether he was there or not.

Ruth, immediately agitated, slammed the bathroom door too hard as she went to clean her teeth. Conrad stirred and swore an oath, immediately silencing the family.

Sarah quietly placed her arms around her mother. The feel of her warm, protective little body brought tears to her mother’s eyes. Dear little Sarah, the other scapegoat in the household. Annie was cut to the quick every time Conrad referred to this little girl as a deadhead or dunce or thick or retarded. Both parents knew that Sarah suffered from a build-up of fluid in the eardrums that had to be drained every year. ‘Dumb’ was the very last thing that their daughter was.

If he had intended it to be a label that she would carry with her into adulthood, then he had succeeded by the time she was still in Kindergarten. The poison inside him that caused him to be so cruel was the very thing that had killed every shred of love or affection, not to mention respect, that Annie had ever had for him.

‘I’m not going to school today, Mum,’ was all Sarah said, her hands tightening around her mother’s sides.

‘Come on, Pet. It’s all right,’ Annie comforted the worried little girl.

‘I don’t want to leave you here by yourself with Dad,’ Sarah said protectively, beginning to cry, huge blue eyes tormented in her little face as she looked up at Annie.

‘You’ll have to go to school, my darling. I’ll be fine,’ Annie assured her with a tired smile and a hug, smoothing the blonde hair back behind Sarah’s ears.

Ruth emerged from the bathroom and whispered in a frantic, high-pitched tone,

‘Don’t stay here, Mum. Go to Grandma’s until you come to pick us up from school.’

David sat at the table, busily following the conversation.

‘I’ll stay home and look after you, Mum’ he said with determination.

Annie looked from one to another of her children, knowing their lives were spiraling out of control along with hers. She flashed them a quick, tired grin that didn’t take in her eyes. She was weary to her very bones.

‘We have to live an ordinary life, my little ones. We must pretend everything’s all right. And then one day, who knows, it might even become alright?’

Perhaps their emotional difficulties would end when Conrad became satisfied with his lot and ceased reaching for the stars in his grab to go from pauper to prince. If and when he found out that money did not automatically buy happiness and could realize that the condition came more from within than without.

What will become of us, she thought? Where do we go from here? Where do we start and how do we finish?

‘Come on, you twerps. I’m big enough to look after myself,’ she said with a show of merriment, her bruised-looking eyes glancing towards the bedroom where Conrad still slept. ‘Get your schoolbags and off we go.’

Other books

The Chessman by Jeffrey B. Burton
Cain by Huggins, James Byron
Miracle Man by Hildy Fox
Acts of Nature by Jonathon King
Inishbream by Theresa Kishkan
Mummy's Little Helper by Casey Watson
Sirenz Back in Fashion by Charlotte Bennardo
Meltdown by Andy McNab