Authors: Rebecca Barber
“You’re fucking kidding me, aren’t you? How am I supposed to give you my side of the story if you don’t tell me what you are referring to?”
“Your wife is in hospital with a broken wrist, concussion, and some interesting art on her neck. Would you like to offer any suggestions of how that might have happened?” he teased.
Joel sat frozen to the spot. With those few words his worst fears were confirmed. Gillian had blabbed. “It’s not what you think,” he panted, clinging to any truth he could remember.
“It never is,” Sergeant Butcher replied heartlessly.
So Joel began the longest three hours of his life. Twice he asked to use the bathroom and twice he was told to keep going. As the minutes ticked over to hours, Joel told the Sergeant more than he intended. He confessed about the broken wrist and the kick to the knee and slamming Gillian against the wall and holding her there by her neck.
After a while Sergeant Butcher blurted out, “Why did you do it?”
“At the time, it made me feel better. Like I had some control again. Like I mattered. Like I was important,” Joel admitted, smiling sadly up at the officer in front of him. “So, what happens now?” he asked, not really fazed.
“You will be charged with assault. We have offered your wife an AVO against you,” he stated plainly.
“Did she take it?” Suddenly the world snapped back into focus and Joel realized the size of this mistake. Then he was wondering if he could ever come back from his.
For a long time he had been sinking into a black hole with no one to pull him out. He had tried different women and bottles, but nothing had been able to pull him out of the endless funk. For the first time in years his world was no longer blurry. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand the seriousness of what was happening, but rather simply appreciated it. Someone was going to help him, not that he would admit that he needed it, but these charges could make things better. Make him a better man. A better father. A better husband. A better person. Better for everyone.
“We couldn’t speak to her when we went to the hospital. She was still in surgery,” Sergeant Butcher said blankly.
The sergeant just watched the words sink in and the light come on in Joel’s eyes. He had baited him into asking, “If you haven’t even spoken to Gillian, how do you know about this?”
Smiling, satisfied, the sergeant said nothing. He just stood up, scooped his things, and headed for the door. Just before he slammed it behind him, he looked at a very confused and bewildered young man. “Your daughter,” he offered, with an eyebrow cocked quizzically as he walked away.
For a long time Joel just sat there picking at his fingernails, still shocked at the revelation. He had assumed that his big mouthed wife had reported him, but was gobsmacked to discover that it was actually his own daughter who’d blabbed. He wanted to ask why. He wanted to understand it but the more the thoughts bubbled and stewed in his head the more he realized he didn’t want to know. There could be nothing more heartbreaking than hearing the reasons why your daughter reported you to the police. Even though he knew he deserved it, hearing it aloud would make it real. And as much as he hated himself in that moment, hearing that was too much torture even for him to bear. Gillian had brainwashed his kids against him.
After more than forty minutes alone with his thoughts, a prospect more terrifying than a cramped jail cell with a big tattooed guy named Rocco, Sergeant Butcher reappeared to collect him. He was fingerprinted, formally charged, and then released until his court date.
Standing alone on the concrete steps of the police station, Joel felt more ashamed than he had ever been before. Being humiliated and fired from his job was nothing compared to this all-consuming guilt and torture. Payback would be his. Even if it was Charli who had contacted the police, Joel knew Gillian had put her up to it. She was stupid. How could she think Joel wouldn’t put it all together? Gillian was so afraid of him she would use his own daughter to run to the police and squeal on him. Revenge would be bittersweet. Hurricane Joel was coming and no matter how low Gillian ducked, it wouldn’t be enough.
Twenty-Seven
Gillian
As I started to come out of the anesthetic I felt like I had not only been hit by a bus, but that it had backed up over me and run me down time and time again until I was well and truly squished. My mouth was dry and my tongue could have been substituted for sandpaper. And I was alone. I wasn’t scared to be alone, the silence was eerily comforting, but at the same time it was lonely. I didn’t expect anyone there, but I wished someone was. My mum. Most days I was okay, even with everything that was going on in my life. I tried not to think about the fact that I had no family and how I wished my dad was here to kick Joel’s arse. Or that Mum was here to help me when the kids got sick and tell me that it was okay. And I hated that my children never knew how wonderful their grandparents were. That they were brave and they had adventures and they loved. They never saw what love was supposed to be like. But lying there, alone in the unflattering hospital gown, I wanted nothing more than my mum to curl up beside me and whisper stories to me. Stories of faraway places with people I would never know and things I would never understand. Instead, I only had the incessant beeping of machines and shoes squeaking on the linoleum floor in the hallways to keep me company.
Feeling sorry for myself, I closed my eyes and tried to drift off to sleep. I knew I should have been grateful for the time to myself—being a single working mum with three young kids wears you down—but I missed my kids. I didn’t want them to worry about me. But I didn’t have time to worry for too long. There were still enough drugs in my system to send me back into a deep slumber.
A bony elbow to my stomach woke me hours later. Lucas was climbing up on my bed, not really sure where to tread or where to touch. One arm was in a plaster cast and the other had tubes coming out of it.
“Mummy?” he asked, wiggling up my chest.
As I came out of my daze I was surprised to find how heavy he was these days. He had grown up so fast. “Hey,” I murmured with a smile, genuinely happy to see him. “I missed you guys,” I told them, forcing my eyelids apart. I opened my arms up and Bianca and Lucas dived in. I hugged them tightly to my chest, feeling a mixture of relief and appreciation. It was when I opened my eyes and spotted Charli leaning sadly against the door frame with tears streaming down her face I knew something had happened. Something major. Something bad. I felt it. It wasn’t just written all over Charli’s beautifully tormented face; in the pit of my stomach I just felt it.
“Who brought you down to visit me?” I asked nervously, needing to get to Charli as soon as I could.
“Nana did,” Bianca explained. “We went for ice cream then we came to see you.”
“Did you really? Bianca, Mummy needs a drink very much. Would you be able to take Lucas and go see if you can find Nana and ask her to get Mum a drink?” I asked pathetically, knowing there was a jug of ice water on the table behind Bianca’s head.
“Okay, Mummy.” She grinned, one of her teeth still missing. I watched as she reached out protectively and took Lucas’s hand before skipping off down the hallway with him.
Charli didn’t move. She watched them go in stoic silence. Then she turned back and looked at me and burst into tears. She crumpled. I watched in horror as she slid down the door frame a broken girl. “Charli,” I cried as my heart broke. “Please, sweetheart, come here,” I beckoned. I was trying to get out of bed, fighting the sheets and the blankets and the gown and the tubes but they were winning. My daughter needed me and my bed was holding me hostage. “Charli,” I begged, as tears took hold of me.
I watched and prayed as she climbed up off the floor and used the bed to steady herself. She was as white as a sheet. Her usually captivating, wide innocent eyes were now just haunted and hollow. Something had stolen the life from her and I was paralyzed with fear. As soon as her trembling hand reached the bed, I reached out with my broken wristed arm and pulled her to me, pushing through the excruciating pain as it coursed through my arm.
“What is it?” I asked, clutching her to my chest, stroking her hair, doing anything I could think of to calm and reassure her.
“I…I did something,” she gasped between gut wrenching sobs.
“It’s okay, Charli. Nothing you have done can hurt you. I promise,” I said, sucking in a deep breath and silently praying that I could live up to that promise. “Just tell me what’s happened.”
“It’s Dad.”
“What about Dad? What did he do?” I asked, completely blindsided.
I was sure the kids had been with either Adele or at school since I had been in hospital. Adele knew how I felt about Joel being alone with the kids and, as she had seen firsthand what he was capable of, I would have bet my life on it that she wouldn’t have taken them to see him. I doubted even Adele would have seen him. I was at a complete loss as to what could have happened.
I watched in silence as Charli swatted her tears away. Even though I was desperate to know, I knew I couldn’t push her. As much as it was freaking me out, Charli was the most important thing. I watched as she struggled to gather her thoughts before exhaling heavily, “I told…told the police,” was all she managed to get out before collapsing heavily in another fit of tears.
My heart shattered into a million pieces. My already fragile daughter had broken. She was lying in my lap, nothing more than the shell of the vibrant young woman she was becoming, a babbling incoherent mess.
“Told the police what, sweetheart?” I asked, forcing my voice to remain stable. A million thoughts raced through my head, none of them good.
Sniveling, Charli looked up at me with fright. I could feel her trembling against me. She was a mess. That was the only way to describe her. A complete and utter mess. “I…I told them that he hurt you,” she cried again. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Mum,” she kept repeating between sniffs and sobs.
And there it was. The truth was out now. No going back. My own daughter had more courage and more tenacity than I did. She had done what I should have. I was weak and I knew that, I had always known that, but Charli was brave. And now it was destroying her.
“Don’t you apologize,” I said stubbornly, lifting her face to look me in the eye. “Charli, you did the right thing. You know you did, or you wouldn’t have done it. And I should have. I should have been the one to tell them what he did. But I was too scared.”
“Mummy,” she cried again, squeezing me tighter and not letting go.
“It’s okay,” I reassured her, not really certain of whether it was. Charli would be all right because I would never let anything happen to her, but I knew Joel. I had known him a long time and I knew there would be repercussions. I would bear the brunt of his fury, but it didn’t matter. The truth was out there now. Nothing he could do would ever take that away. “You did the right thing. Everything will be okay.”
In more pain than I could stand, I wriggled out from under Charli and brought her up beside me. By the time Adele returned with the Bianca and Lucas, Charli had managed to cry herself to sleep in my arms, just like she had when she was six months old.
“We brought you a drink, Mum,” Bianca said, handing me the bottle of water proudly.
“I got the straw, Mum,” Lucas added, sticking a blue straw in my hand. “I got to choose.”
“Thank you,” I said as I accepted the drink. I was parched and drinking through a straw wouldn’t have been my first choice, I just wanted to up end the bottle and down the lot in one long swallow, but Lucas had so proudly brought it back I had to use it. “Mmmm,” I murmured in appreciation, masking my desperation. After all, it was just a bottle of water.
Adele looked at me oddly over their heads. “She okay?” she mouthed silently indicating Charli.
Shaking my head sadly, I honestly didn’t know. I didn’t know if she would ever forgive herself for what she had unwittingly set in motion. I understood her motives and I loved her more than anything for it, but I knew what would happen from here. She hadn’t been able to see any further into the future. All she wanted was for it to stop. To stop having to run away in the middle of the night. To stop the bruises and the beatings and me being hurt. She was protecting me and I loved her more than words could ever describe for it, but now I needed her to let me deal with the rest. She wasn’t getting any more involved than she already was. Nothing was going to come back on her for this.
“Adele,” I asked as normally as I could muster. “Did the doctor say anything to you about when I can go home?”
“No, they didn’t. But I can go and find out if you like?”
“That would be good. I need to go home. Lucas and I have a half-finished game of tennis, don’t we, mister?” I asked, watching as he climbed like a monkey back up onto the bed. For a single bed it was suddenly very small. Charli stretched out asleep next to me, Lucas perched on the end, and Bianca stood beside me looking lost. “Come on, missy. Up you get.” As soon as the words left my lips, an enormous and generous smile consumed her and she scrambled up to join us.
“I’ll go see what I can find out,” Adele offered, tossing her handbag over her shoulder. “Lucas, you’re in charge,” she nominated, scruffing up his hair before disappearing out the door.
After pointing at everything in the room and asking what it all was, Lucas seemed to be satisfied just to poke my cast. Then out of the blue, Bianca sat up and said, “Mum, can we go home soon?”
“Sweetie, Nana’s just gone to find the doctor to see when I can go home, and then we are out of here. But if they won’t let me go today you still get to go home tonight with Nana,” I tried to explain.
“That’s not home. That’s to Nana’s house. I want to go to my house,” she pouted.
Trying not to upset anyone, I tried to explain as best I could, which, admittedly, was very poorly, “You can’t go home until I can. So, as soon as the doctor says that Mummy’s hand is okay to go home, then we will all go home together. We just have to wait.”
“How long?” She frowned, crossing hers arms across her chest defiantly.
“When Nana comes back we’ll know.”
I couldn’t help but scrutinize her tantrum as the words sunk in. She had started off sulking and annoyed, but as she began to understand what was happening her face softened and she came back to me. “When we get home, can I sign your cast?” she asked randomly. I was relieved. No more questions about going home or Joel or why we were here. Instead, she wanted to draw on my cast.
“Me too, Mummy,” Lucas chimed in.
“As soon as we get home you can both draw on it.” I knew I would have the best looking cast ever.
“Charli too?” Bianca checked. She was always looking out for Charli, and I had never been more proud of my kids. It didn’t matter what was happening, they were still amazing people. Somewhere along the way I must have done something right.
“Charli too,” I assured them, getting two wide toothless smiles in reply.
Although I had enjoyed the silence earlier, I wouldn’t have traded these moments for anything. Just us being a normal family. The simple things. It made everything else seem unimportant and petty. Even if it was only for a few precious moments when everyone was happy and healthy, it was the best part about being a mum.
Adele reappeared and told me that I would probably be able to go home tomorrow night. They wanted to check on everything and make sure the drugs had completely worn off before they sent me home. It took me almost an hour to convince the kids that I was fine and I would be home soon. Charli was reluctant to leave, so much so that she threw her first tantrum in almost three years. It was undeniably convincing. She was worried about me and about Joel finding out what she had done. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that there was a better than probable chance he already knew.
As I watched them leave, the silence once again enveloped the room. I missed them. Before I had found safety and peace in the silence, but now it was suffocating. Charli’s words repeated in my head and I couldn’t shake the feeling of dread. I loved her for what she had done and I admired her resolve and strength, but I now found myself praying feverishly that Joel never found out. I couldn’t help but wonder if he would turn on his own daughter once he knew, and that was the most sickening feeling imaginable.
I drifted off to sleep again, hoping to sleep dreamlessly through the night. I didn’t want to wake up and I didn’t want the nightmares. But predictably, they haunted me. Twice I woke with a start, drenched in a cold sweat, the monitor beside me blinking incessantly. A nurse appeared both times, alarmed by the buzzing noises of the monitor. The second time she appeared, she checked on me then disappeared before returning with a crossword puzzle book. Stretching out on the chair beside me, I wasn’t entirely sure what she was doing.
“Is something wrong? Should I be concerned?” I asked, glancing at the monitors, wishing I understood them.
“No, no my dear.” She smiled a wide, comforting smile. “You just seemed very jumpy and you need to get your rest. I thought I would just sit with you for a while. Now go on, back to sleep. And don’t let anything wake you. I’m right here and you’re completely safe.” Reassuringly, she straightened my blankets, re-fluffed my pillows, and turned the blinking machine away from me.