Nobody Knows (9 page)

I wandered down to the lake and started around it. It was a bright sunny day; the breeze was refreshing on my face. The lake was dotted with people rowing, kayaking, and fishing in the shallows. There were kids riding bikes along the edge, dads running nervously behind making sure there were no falls or spills. I dodged a young lady with blue hair as she zoomed past aggressively on her roller blades.

I walked for almost two hours before I made my way back to the car. I had made some decisions about what was going to change. My biggest problem was getting Joel to put his ego aside and listen. The truth was I was afraid of Joel. In all the time we had been together I had only seen him truly pissed off once, and all I had wanted to do then was duck for cover. When Joel was in a bad mood I was petrified. Not just for me, but for my girls as well.

Chapter Ten

“Would you keep your bloody voice down? The girls are in bed,” I snarled under my breath.

Joel was in the middle of yet another drunken rant. I could barely understand a word he was saying. He had come stumbling through the door at quarter to ten. He’d missed dinner with his family, but luckily he hadn’t missed drinks with a client.

“Don’t you dare tell me to keep my voice down! This is my house. If I want to yell and scream when I come home, I damn well can!” Joel boomed fiercely.

“Your house?”

“I pay for everything, so yes, it is my house!”

“And what do I do?”

“That’s a very good question. What the fuck do you do?”

“You’re kidding me, aren’t you?”

“Do I look like I’m telling jokes here?” he slurred angrily.

“I look after
your
daughters. It’s not like you’re ever around to do anything for them!” I countered.

“I can’t be here! Someone has to work.”

Sighing, I found myself softening. “You still don’t get it, do you?” I shook my head. It was the same argument we had been having since Charli’s birth. “They would be happy without the money. We don’t need fancy cars and holidays. Your daughters need their dad. They want their dad. They would be perfectly happy to spend an afternoon in the park down the road just playing on the swings with you. That’s what is important to them.”

Staggering towards me, Joel grabbed a hold of my arm roughly. He squeezed it, instantly making it sting with pain. I tried to wriggle out of his grasp but he held firm. “We don’t all have the luxury of sitting on our fat arses all day. Some people have to work. And my job, that’s the job that keeps you in the lifestyle you had no problems settling into.”

We were standing face to face now. Joel’s cheeks were red, his eyes half closed, and the stench of bourbon was heavy on his breath. “Well, I’ll get a job and go back to work and you can stay at home all day,” I offered. I knew I was treading on dangerous ground, but if that’s what his big problem was, it didn’t seem like rocket science to make it better.

“Don’t be stupid!” he snapped, releasing my arm and pushing me away from him.

I wasn’t expecting the shove, and fell backwards into the corner of the granite kitchen bench. A shot of intense pain seared through my body and I slumped over.

“Who the fuck would give you a job?” he continued. He grabbed my chin and forced my eyes to meet his.

This time I managed to wriggle out of his grasp. Stepping away from him, I wrapped my arms around my stomach protectively. “I could get a job doing lots of things,” I answered meekly, my resolve faltering under the pressure.

The decisions I made earlier were now just a memory. I wasn’t game to push Joel on anything at the moment. In all honesty, I just wanted this to end. I was praying Joel would give up, go to bed, and just pass out. I didn’t want to talk to him or even be near him when he was drunk. And now was definitely not the time to be making decisions or forcing him into something.

“Don’t you get it? No one would hire you. You have no skills and you are nothing!” He was mad. If it was possible, steam would have billowed from his ears.

“That’s what you think,” I mumbled under my breath, immediately regretting saying anything at all.

Instantly he was back on me, his hands pinching my collarbones. When he started shaking me violently, I couldn’t help but whimper out loud. Tears were streaming down my face like a waterfall.

In the years we had been together, and through all the ups and downs we had faced, Joel had never been physically abusive to me. I had received more than my fair share of emotional abuse, but he had never laid a hand on me. Now I was shaking on my own. My legs were barely holding me up.

“Fuck off! You think someone would employ you? For God’s sakes, Gillian, you’re pregnant again. Remember? Who would hire someone that is up the duff?” Tiny bits of spittle flew from his mouth and covered my frightened, tear-stained face.

I didn’t say anything. Things were deteriorating faster than I could have imagined. There was nothing I could say at this point that would make anything better, but I knew that anything I did say would just make it worse. Much worse.

Obviously fed up with my lack of fight, Joel pushed me away and I fell to the floor. By this point I was sobbing uncontrollably, cowering on the floor. Joel looked at me, shook his head, and stalked off. With a slam of the door I knew the tirade was over. For tonight, anyway.

After a long while I scooped myself up off the floor and stumbled back to the lounge. Staring in the mirror, I saw the huge red marks already showing on my shoulders. I knew tomorrow they would be deep, blue bruises. Not game enough to go to my own bed, I checked on the girls. Luckily they had slept through the whole ordeal. I returned to the lounge, curled up on the sofa, and cried myself to sleep.

I awoke the next morning stiff and sore. I was more bruised than I expected and the night curled up on the sofa didn’t help. The sun wasn’t up yet and the girls were still silent. I padded quietly into the kitchen and made myself a cup of hot chocolate, something I hadn’t had for years, but right now it was the only thing that could make me feel even slightly human.

As I swallowed the last mouthful of chocolate I realized I wanted a shower. I needed one. Dreaming of the hot water cascading over my aching body, I trudged slowly towards our bedroom. I know it was stupid, it was my home and just my husband on the other side of the door, but I was trembling again. I didn’t want to wake him. I shouldn’t have worried.

Taking a long, deep, calming breath, I pushed open the door and dared to enter. He wasn’t there. The bed was made but the room was empty. I walked into the en suite and everything was in its place, but no sign of Joel. I don’t know if I sighed in relief or in disappointment.

Stripping off, I stared at myself in the mirror. The marks on my shoulders and wrists were red and irritated. But it was the bruise on my kidneys from the collision with the kitchen bench that was the worst. I took my time in the hot shower, letting the steam fill the room. Stepping out of the shower, I stretched, trying to work the kinks out of my neck and back. I felt better. Not great, but slightly more human. At that point I figured it was as good as it was going to get today.

I was sitting on the edge of my bed wearing only my panties and bra, when Charli wandered in. “Hi sweetie.” I smiled, pulling her into my arms.

“Mummy, are we going to Grandma’s today?” she asked hopefully.

I heard her words, and reality sank in. I couldn’t see Adele today. She would know. She would see through any lie I told her.

“Not today, Charli. Mummy isn’t feeling very well this morning so we might just stay at home, if that’s okay?” Straight away I was overcome by guilt. Already I was letting my cowardice change our lives. I hated myself for it, but it was the best I could do for now.

“Are you okay, Mummy?” Charli asked, looking concerned. She placed her hand on my forehead, like she had seen me do before.

“Do you remember when Mummy was having Bianca?”

“When you got fat?” she asked, with all the honesty only a child could possess.

“Yes, when Mummy got fat. Well, Mummy is having another baby,” I told her. I needed to tell someone and Charli was going to find out eventually. “Would you like a little brother or sister?”

“I already have a little sister.”

“You might get another one.”

Charli looked thoughtful. “No, thank you. I already have to share my toys with Bianca.”

I hugged Charli tightly. She was so honest and straightforward. She was really the love of my life. Her beautiful blonde hair was wild and her pink pajamas were all wrinkled. “I need to get dressed. Can you go see if Bianca is awake and I’ll be out in a minute to get you some breakfast. What do you feel like?”

With her hands on her chin, Charli thought hard. “Pancakes,” she announced decidedly. Sometimes she was so much like Joel it was scary. Her decisiveness was a trait stolen straight from her father.

“Okay, I’ll make pancakes,” I agreed, watching as Charli skipped animatedly out the door.

Hurriedly I pulled on a pair of jeans and a shirt, taking the time to make sure all the marks were covered. I wasn’t planning on seeing anyone today, but I didn’t want to take the risk of someone unexpectedly showing up and seeing the bruises.

Covered head to toe in pancake batter and sticky maple syrup, due to Charli’s insistence on flipping the pancakes herself and Bianca’s insistence on pouring her own maple syrup, I texted Adele and told her I wasn’t feeling well. I couldn’t bring myself to call her. Under her intense questioning, I knew I would buckle. I would undoubtedly say something wrong and she would appear from nowhere, ready to help.

It was a full fifteen minutes before the phone buzzed to life, a record for Adele. I was hurriedly trying to clean up Bianca’s sticky hands that she had already managed to run through her mousy brown curls.

“Mum!” Charli squealed happily. “Can I answer the phone?”

I already knew who it was. The only person who ever bothered to call during the day—Adele. “Yes, Charli,” I called back, rushing as much as I could. I must have been too occupied trying to listen to Charli’s conversation that I wasn’t paying attention to what I was doing. Bianca was now in tears. I had been wiping her face with a face washer and must have rubbed too hard. Now she was crying. I tried to soothe her but she just screamed louder and louder.

“Grandma, did you know that Mummy is going to have another baby?” I heard Charli ask excitedly.

I didn’t know if I was glad I couldn’t hear Adele’s response or if I needed it. Scooping Bianca up in my arms, I forgot about her sticky fingers and rushed out to Charli. But I was too late. She was hanging the phone back up on the wall, as I came through the door.

“Grandma’s coming over,” she called over her shoulder as she skipped down the hall happily.

I didn’t bother to mask the defeated look that consumed my entire body. That was the last thing I needed today, but I knew calling Adele and telling her not to come over would only arouse her curiosity further. I would just go put some makeup on and a long sleeve shirt to hide the red welts on my wrists and I would survive. I had to.

“Great!” I faked, watching as Charli sat down on the floor next to Bianca. “I have to clean up the kitchen before Grandma gets here. Charli, can you please go and get dressed and make sure Bianca gets dressed too?” I called after her.

“Yes, Mummy,” she sang, breezing back into the kitchen. I watched with amusement as Charli picked Bianca up from under her arms and half dragged, half carried her towards the bedroom.

I cleaned up as quickly as possible and checked on the girls. They were both dressed, albeit in mismatched clothes, and were playing happily on the floor. The Barbie bucket had already been up ended but they were playing quietly. Bianca was chewing on Barbie’s leg while Charli fought her awkward shaped body into a pair of pants and shoes.

Taking advantage of their distraction I raced around the house and tried to get some jobs done. I threw a load of washing in the machine, wiped over the bathrooms, and picked up the toys from the family room floor. I was just boiling the kettle when Adele sauntered through the front door looking like she had just stepped from a magazine.

“Gillian,” she sang whimsically.

“In the kitchen,” I called back, taking the opportunity to wipe my face, take a deep breath, and adjust my sleeves.

Before she was even in the same room, Adele was asking, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It’s only just been confirmed. I’m seven weeks. I only found out a couple of days ago. I only had the chance to tell Joel last night,” I admitted. I had learnt long ago that there was no point lying to Adele, she always knew. I don’t know if it was a motherly instinct that she had developed over the years or just a sixth sense when it came to Joel’s shortcomings.

Adele hugged me tightly, stroking my hair as she did. Without knowing it, she had inadvertently pressed down on my aching shoulders and squeezed my kidney bruise. I must have let out an involuntary gasp, causing her to jump back, still holding my hand.

“What is it, dear?” she asked sweetly, sounding older than she was.

Adele had soft, delicate features that were always looking their best. She was always perfectly manicured and pedicured. She enjoyed weekly facials and I had never seen her without her hair styled and makeup impeccable, not even when she had shown up at the hospital in the middle of the night to pick up Charli the night Bianca had been born.

“No…no, it’s nothing, really. Just a bit squeamish, that’s all,” I lied.

“Must be a boy, then!” she exclaimed happily. “You had barely any morning sickness with the girls. When are you due?”

“Doctor says I’m due on October thirteenth.”

“Libran, then.”

It always amazed me how someone so prim and proper, someone who appeared at all the right functions and knew everyone there that was worth knowing, was so into star signs and astrology—something I neither knew nor cared much about.