Nobody Knows (18 page)

A week later he emerged from his own private hell and unleashed his rage against the world. First his family and the woman who had ruined everything for him. That was the day he made the decision to cut them from his life completely. Cut out all the bad and then he could get the good back. He had a lot of work to do, but he would get there. He was still young and resourceful and, more importantly, he had money saved for a rainy day. And today it was pouring.

That night he told Gillian exactly what he thought of her. With a well-timed slap, a punch and a kick, Joel let her know exactly where she stood. When she returned ten days later she was visibly terrified of him. Yet another accomplishment for him, and after only six weeks of living under the same roof, after that night Joel flew to the Gold Coast for some time off and to escape the nightmare.

That was six years ago now. When all that happened Joel had naïvely believed it would only take six months to fix his broken, unrecognizable life. It was now six years later and things were just as bad, if not worse than they had ever been. And he was more miserable than he had ever imagined possible. Even the booze couldn’t dull the pain and fill the emptiness that controlled him.

Chapter

Twenty-Three

Gillian

Adele was my angel. From the moment she had seen her son, her only child, kick me, their relationship dissolved. From what I have managed to extract from Adele over the years, she and Joel had had a huge argument when she returned from the hospital to collect the girls some clothes. She had disowned him until he sorted this mess out. He never had. Selfishly, I thought that was the end of not only my relationship with Adele but also my children’s. But Adele was better than that. She stood by us in ways Joel never knew. I would often find random deposits into my bank account. We were invited for dinner at least once a week and the presents just became out of control. Any excuse to buy one of the kids a new pair of shoes or outfit, Adele took it. Without a mother of my own, Adele became the only person I trusted enough with the truth. Even with my best-friends, I just couldn’t bring myself to admit how bad my life had become.

These days I had a key to her house and we were welcome any time, day or night. The one night I had taken the kids and checked into a motel in the middle of the night, Adele had been so furious at me she had gone out that afternoon, purchased a set of bunk beds with pink quilt covers and had unicorns painted on the walls so that the girls always had a home. Even if it couldn’t be at our own place, we always had a place at Adele’s.

Quietly I let myself in, trying not to disturb anyone. It was the middle of the night. Joel had come home a little before midnight and now had music blaring from his bedroom. Lucas had woken first, but it didn’t take long before we were all awake wondering what on earth was going on in there. But when the CD changed and I heard a female giggling, I knew things had gone too far. I didn’t care if he was cheating on me. It didn’t bother me in the slightest, but I was not going to let the kids see some cheap bimbo emerge from their father’s bedroom while they were munching on their toast in the morning. I wasn’t doing it for Joel. I was protecting our kids from our reality, and so I had done what I needed to do—packed the kids in the car, complete with tomorrow’s school clothes, and driven them to a safe place.

“Bianca! Charli,” I whispered, trying not to wake Adele. “Go jump into bed, girls. It’s late.” They were so tired and still half asleep that together, hand in hand, they walked down the hallway and when I checked on them five minutes later they were sleeping soundly curled in the bottom bunk together.

Lucas was another problem altogether. Something had shaken him. He was wide awake and frightened. I had tried putting him into his bed and reading to him but nothing helped. Exhausted, I crawled into the single bed beside him and snuggled down. I stroked his hair softly and after a while he drifted off to sleep on my chest, his steady breathing calming me.

“Everything okay?” Adele asked, poking her head in the door.

“Yeah,” I whispered back, pointing to Lucas, making sure she knew he was asleep.

“Good night.”

“’Night, Adele.”

I knew every time we snuck into her house, or arrived while she was still awake, she was agitated and worried, afraid that Joel was in trouble or causing more chaos. Each time we slept in her spare rooms I could feel her eyes scouring me, looking for any signs of abuse, but I had gotten better at hiding it. And so had Joel. He knew how to hurt me and hide the bruises. And we both knew that I was too pathetic and weak to tell anyone about them. That meant I would have to admit that I kept going back. Like an idiot, I kept going home to my abusive alcoholic husband. It was definitely not something to be proud of, and not something I wanted to advertise.

But Adele wouldn’t ask me for any details the following day. I think she preferred to not know. In her heart, Adele knew what he had done and she never pretended that it didn’t happen, but she didn’t discuss it either. I think it was easier to be nice to me and our kids to make up for Joel’s shortcomings then to confront them and admit that it was a real problem.

I slept fitfully. Lucas wasn’t a calm sleeper and the nights he was disrupted were his worst. He would toss and turn and scream out in his sleep. When I woke the next morning, I was curled up at the end of the bed, where his tiny feet couldn’t reach, but he was gone. Initially I panicked. But then I remembered that we were at Adele’s and she wouldn’t mind if the kids got up in the morning and made a noise. It was only Joel who was set off by that.

As I stretched out the loud cracking noise in my neck, back, and shoulders got my attention. I was aching from head to toe. I wanted to run the hottest bubble bath I could tolerate and lie there for a month. Even an hour would do. Just let some of the frustration seep out of me. Instead, I pulled myself together, ducked into the bathroom, and splashed some cold water on my face before facing Adele and the kids. Explaining what was happening to Charli was the worst. I could no longer hide the truth from her with lies and deception. She knew everything and saw everything, but my biggest concern was what she was repeating. No one needed to know what happened behind the closed doors of our home, but I understood that maybe Charli needed someone to talk to. Someone who’d understand. Someone who wasn’t me.

“Morning, Mummy.” Bianca smiled, bounding over and wrapping her skinny freckled arms around my waist. I couldn’t help but to smile back. She made me keep going.

“Hi darling,” I replied, kissing her lightly on her forehead. “What are we doing out here?”

“Nana made us pancakes for breakfast!” Bianca explained, sliding back in her chair at the bench and stuffing a huge forkful of pancake into her mouth, leaving a trail of sticky maple syrup across everything.

“Isn’t Nana wonderful?” I asked, silently mouthing ‘thank you’ to Adele. Only she noticed and still she remained silent.

“Lucas, have you had enough breakfast?” Adele asked, taking charge.

Being at Adele’s wasn’t only a safe haven from Joel’s abusive and hurtful attacks, but I was also allowed to take a break from being a single parent. Where Joel could have been helping, should have been helping, on those days we were at Adele’s she stepped up and gave me a breather.

“Come on, guys, eat up,” I encouraged, glancing at my watch. They had to be at school in less than an hour.

“Gillian, go jump in the shower. I’ll finish getting these guys organized for a school,” she offered helpfully. I just nodded. Somehow, Adele always knew what I needed.

An hour later, the kids were at school and I was in the office, but I couldn’t concentrate. Something Charli had mumbled in the car on the way to school really upset me. She had complained about her father, yet again, but it was the way she said it that hurt. She was only twelve years old, but in that moment she seemed older than I was. “Mum, why won’t Dad just leave? He doesn’t love us. So why do we have to be the ones that keep going to Nana’s?”

Although I had the same thought every day for the past six years, I never had an answer. Not once. But that too was my fault. I had never asked. But now was as good a time as any to make that change. And when my boss floated past my cubicle two hours later and I was still away with the pixies, I casually asked if he would mind if I took the afternoon off. When he had no objections, I was out of there as quickly as I could go.

The drive home was painful. Ten minutes of extreme torture—practicing what I wanted to say and imagining what Joel’s responses would be. I didn’t want to get hit again, but that feeling wasn’t a new one for me. Sadly. I thought about telling someone what I was about to do, but I was afraid they would try and stop me. This was something I had to do, not just for me, but for my three terrified, fatherless children.

I pulled into the driveway and there was a car I didn’t recognize, maybe that of the woman from last night. I didn’t remember it being there when we left, but then again it wasn’t important at the time. Summoning all the strength I possessed, I quickly sent a text to Heidi.

Gillian: At home. If u don’t hear from me in an hour. Call the police.

I knew she would panic, that was what Heidi did, but I had to tell someone where I was. If the past had proven anything it was that Joel was capable and willing to do whatever it took to get his way. No matter who or what he hurt along the way.

When I reached the front door I had to stop myself. I had gone to knock on my own front door. How pathetic was that? Opening the door, I felt a surge of rage and I was no longer scared. “I’m home!” I called out as bravely as I could.

I knew I had stunned Joel by announcing my arrival, because behind the dead bolted door I heard crashing and swearing before a tirade of giggling from someone I didn’t recognize. Each day when the kids and I returned home we usually snuck in the house, careful not to aggravate him, but today I had loudly declared I was home.

“Who gives a fuck, Gillian?” Joel greeted me, emerging from his room with only a towel tied loosely around his waist.

“Shut up, Joel. And sit down. We need to talk. Now!” I directed, pointing to the sofa.

“Fuck off,” he replied politely, turning his back on me and heading back to his bedroom and his skank.

“Joel!” I snapped, raising my voice. “Sit the fuck down and listen.”

Taken aback, he did exactly as I said. Trying to compose myself, I sucked in a deep breath and glanced at him. He had scratches on his shoulders, more than likely from the woman in his bed. A few days’ stubble on his chin. Gone was the toned body and the flat stomach, and instead his beer belly hung over the towel gathered at his waist. For the first time I noticed his man boobs and saw what he had really become. He wasn’t even recognizable as the confident, courageous young man I had met and married all those years ago. Now he was nothing more than a bitter bum with no direction and no dreams. In that moment, as I saw the hopelessness in his eyes, I couldn’t help but wonder if I had been the one to suck the life out of him, or if he had imploded all on his own.

“Hurry up, Gillian. What do you want to say that you think is so goddamn important?”

“You need to get out.”

“Excuse me?”

“You need to leave. Move out.”

Bewilderment was written all over his face. I had never spoken to him like this before. I wasn’t sure if it was what I was saying or if it was the fact that I was saying it that stunned him into silence, but for a long moment nothing was said. My words hung heavily in the air between us. Then before I knew what was happening, he was on me.

Joel’s hand was at my throat and I was gasping for breath. He pushed me backwards until I was squished between his body and the brick wall. His breath was in my face and I could smell last night’s booze session. But this time I wasn’t afraid. I had to stand up to him. “What gives you the right to tell me to move out of my house?” he snarled, squeezing tighter on my throat.

I couldn’t focus properly. My eyes had tiny black dots fading in and out as I struggled to breathe. A piercing scream loosened Joel’s grip. The woman emerged from his bedroom wearing only a g-string and when her eyes locked on mine, she let out a deafening squeal, causing Joel’s concentration to falter.

If I thought she was going to help me anymore than that, I was sadly mistaken. Instead, she grabbed her denim purse from the kitchen bench and ran out of the house as fast as she could, tears streaming down her face. As she pulled open the front door, she took one last look at me, her wide frightened eyes filled with apologies.

Taking the opportunity to respond, I reached up and wrapped my hands around Joel’s, clawing at his fingers, trying to pry his hands loose. “Joel, your children don’t want to come home while you are here. You scare them,” I pleaded. But if Joel was enraged before, watching his young date run away only infuriated him further.

“Well, then they can fuck off. I paid for the damn thing. What have they ever done to contribute?” he spat.

“They’re your kids, Joel. They don’t need to do anything for you.”

“We aren’t even sure they’re mine, are we?”

“What are you insinuating?”

“You’re a whore, Gillian. So who knows who the father is?”

“You’re fucking kidding me, right?” I was fuming now. After everything else, all the fights, the bitter words, the punches, and the complete neglect, now he was denying they were even his children.

“You tell me?” He squeezed my throat again savagely before pushing my head so it banged the wall hard, leaving me seeing stars.

“Joel, please,” I whimpered, knowing that this was going to get worse before it got better. He looked me straight in the eye, the first time he had done that in years, and dropped me in disgust. Instantly my hands rubbed at my neck. That was going to leave a mark, but now wasn’t the time to wonder where my turtlenecks were stored. “Our kids can’t go on like this. They’re too scared to live in their own house in case they upset you. Please, just get out. Give them a chance to have a normal life. Get your shit together, then come back and be a father.” I found myself begging, something I had promised myself years ago that I would never do.

“Fuck off, Gillian. This isn’t about your kids at all. You want my house. That’s what it all comes down to.”