Hunting BLind: It's Every Family's Deepest Fear

by Richardson, Paddy

  Like when Dad told the worst story. She heard him start up. She knew what was coming, felt her face get hot, felt her insides squirming about. Everyone laughed, even Mum, though she tried to stop when she saw how Beth was feeling about it.

  ‘Kids,’ Dad said. ‘What you go through with them. Like this one. She was about three at the time. I heard this scraping noise in the middle of the night. Sounded like some animal had got in and was trapped somewhere. I went all through the house, nearly fell over her. She was right by the front door, face down, moving her arms and legs up and down like a little frog. I got that much of a fright. Her eyes were wide open but when I waved my hand in front of her face she didn’t so much as blink. She was mumbling something about swimming. Swimming. Ellie’d been taking her down to the pool and she was mad keen on it.’

  ‘Did she remember anything about it in the morning?’ Holly asked.

  ‘No,’ Mum said, ‘not a thing.’

  ‘That wasn’t the only time, either,’ Dad said. ‘Remember that time we found her trying to open the back door? ’

  ‘It could be quite dangerous,’ Holly said.

  ‘The door was locked,’ Mum said.

  ‘When did she grow out of it?’ Holly asked.

  ‘Still does it,’ Dad said. ‘You should see her when she’s supposed to be drying dishes.’

  ‘Stop it, Andy,’ Mum said. ‘It only happened a few times. Apparently it’s fairly common. It stopped when you were around five, didn’t it, Beth?’

  ‘Mmm,’ she said. Her throat felt choked up like she might start crying. Sometimes she hated Dad. Really hated him.

  ‘And now this one’s at it.’ Dad pointed at Gracie.

  ‘Really?’ Holly said.

  ‘Only once or twice.’ Mum reached over and brushed her hand over Gracie’s hair. ‘Only when she’s tired or excited about something.’

  Ward hadn’t said anything. Beth quite liked him for that. At least he wasn’t getting into asking questions and teasing her. Maybe that’s why she looked over at him. To see if she could work out what he was thinking.

  Everyone was looking at Gracie and he was watching as well, his eyes narrowed and kind of blank. Mum stroked Gracie’s hair and he was staring and his mouth wasn’t smiling like it usually was.

  Beth breathed inwards, quite sharply, and he was smiling again.

  She thinks about that at night sometimes, about the way he was looking so intently at Gracie and Mum, his eyes hungry, like a prowler staring in through a window trying to work out how to get in. It makes her scared and maybe she should tell someone but what could she say, probably she’s wrong, everyone else likes him so what’s her problem?

  11.

  He came into the house with Andy. He held out his hand so politely and you could see right away he was nice by the way he smiled at her and Beth and Gracie. Gentle and straight and honest, you could tell.

  Andy always asked him to Sunday dinner after that first time but he said he had other things on. She’d see him outside the school. In the afternoons when Beth had sports till late and Ellie picked her up he’d be there and he’d give them a bit of a wave but he never came over. She was worried maybe she’d said something wrong, made him feel unwelcome. She didn’t want that. She wasn’t all that good with people but she liked to think she made any guest they had at their home feel comfortable.

  But in the end he came for dinner again. At first he seemed distant, as if he wanted to be friends but didn’t quite know how, as if he was shy. But she liked that. She likes men to be quiet. Doesn’t like men who are pushy and loud, it makes her anxious as though she wants to curl up inside herself. Maybe it’s because she’s always lived round here, hasn’t ever been away other than the odd week or two. She’s not even used to going out that much. It’s always been just family. Mum, Dad and Ellie. Then Ellie and Andy and Beth and Gracie.

  She thought she’d taught herself to be happy. She’s been unhappy in the past but things are different now and most of that is because of finding the church. And they’ve got this nice new place and the garden to keep her busy. She does her bit for the church, she’s on cleaning and flowers and she likes helping with the cake stalls and all that, it makes her feel part of it. There’s plenty to do. Her life was as it should be. A wife and a mother.

  She never knew until she had them how much she’d love her own kids. That was part of it really, part of the trouble. Because having the girls made her so scared. What if she couldn’t be a good enough mother? What if she didn’t give them what they needed? The right food, the right kind of attention, she never did all that good in school, she’s not clever but she wants the best for them. And that other awful fear she has; what if she lost concentration for just one minute and something happened? You hear about it all the time on the TV, some terrible accident because someone wasn’t paying attention properly. Like that little kid got drowned in the bath and the mother was right there, only turned her back a couple of minutes.

  Andy’s a good man. He joined the church as well. To please her more than anything else, she knows that, but he’s stuck to it, stuck by her through all the bad times she’s had. He’d do anything for her and the girls. But now when she’s with him in bed she can’t wait till he’s finished and gone to sleep. Because then she can move very quietly, very carefully away and lie on her back, stretch out a little, careful not to touch Andy, lie there with her eyes wide open, smiling into the dark, going over it, every bit of it.

  She can’t help it. She’s in love.

  That first time. She knew right back then, that first time, though she didn’t want to see it.

  I didn’t come back but then I had to.

  In church I had to look at you. I couldn’t help it. When I saw you picking up Beth from school I wanted to come over but I knew I had to stay away. I know I should stay away from you, Ellie.

  That second time he came to dinner. She was already so aware of his sweet, polite, yearning smile and his voice and his hands and the long stretch of his body, it felt like the air in the house was rushing and snapping about her. She felt nauseous, her head and heart rushing.

  He came into the kitchen, picked up the plates then put them down again very carefully, one by one on the bench. He had his head down, he was right beside her. She stopped beating the cream. She was shaking. He put his hand on her shoulder, he had tears in his eyes, and he said it.

  I have feelings for you, Ellie. Strong feelings.

  Her hands flew up covering her mouth. She shook her head. You mustn’t say that.

  She tried to put it out of her mind but every time she was in church she felt him behind her. She tried to pray but she couldn’t and in the end she waited for him outside and asked him to please come again for dinner, and his eyes lit right up and he nodded.

  Gracie was watching TV, Beth was in her bedroom doing homework and Andy was in his office on the phone. He followed her into the kitchen. She shut the door. He said Ellie and she walked across the kitchen to him, it seemed such a long, long way and then they were kissing. Kissing. Lips, tongues, the warmth and softness and moistness of his mouth. Moving closer and closer, she was pressed hard against him gasping. Couldn’t bear to move away, to move her body or her mouth away from him.

  You lifted up my skirt pulled me up so my legs were around your hips.

  She can’t help it. She can‘t.

  Andy goes away on the boat. She waits until it’s dark. The girls are sleeping and then he comes.

  You come out of the bush, through the door into my bedroom and I am naked. I undo the buttons of your shirt, one by one, bend down and kneel, take off your shoes, your socks, reach up and undo your belt, your zip. I hold you in my mouth. I am someone else, someone shameless and crazed and helpless.

  I know you love me. I know we’ll be together.

  She believes him when he tells her in the end it’s going to be just her and him and the girls. They’ll go somewhere new, start over together. He makes her brave. Brave and strong.


  Gracie already loves him. He’s good with her, brings her things. Lollies, picture books. That gingerbread lady he said he made though she knows that was just teasing, he can’t cook a thing. He says he’s trying to get Gracie used to him and he plays with her, rolls around with her on the floor. He’s like a big kid sometimes and it makes her smile. Beth isn’t so easy but she’ll come round. In time she’ll come round.

  We have to take this slowly. Keep it quiet until we can work out the best way of doing it. We have to make it as easy for everyone as we can.

  She knows it will happen.

  12.

  After he goes, she creeps across to the other side of the house to check on the girls. Beth is on her back stretched across the bed. When she’s sleeping she’s still a little girl. Gracie’s snoring slightly, a low, soft rasp, she’s just getting over a cold. The duvet is pushed back, her chest and arms are uncovered. She’s wearing her shell bracelet, she must have got out of bed and put it on after Ellie tucked her in and turned out the light. Ellie doesn’t like her wearing it all night because it’s on an elasticised band that’s a little tight and it leaves a raised, red mark on her wrist. Better not to disturb her, though. Better to let her sleep. Ellie eases the duvet around her shoulders.

  She gets back into bed, stretches her legs and arms, tries to settle herself into a position where she can feel comfortable enough to sleep. Her body feels tender; used up and loved. She can still feel the imprint of his fingers. It’s hard to sleep with all that’s going on twisting and spinning about in her mind. Sometimes she cries and cries and he takes her head in his hands, smoothes her hair back off her forehead.

  ‘I can’t bear what we’re doing to Andy. Holly as well. She’s a lovely girl. It’s not their fault.’

  ‘They’ll be all right. Everything will be fine.’ His voice is soothing, gentle.

  ‘What about the girls? I could never leave the girls. What if Andy won’t let them go?’

  ‘One step at a time, okay? We’re meant to be together, you know that. Just give it time.’

  ‘But we’re hurting people. We—’

  ‘Shh shh. I’ll look after you. Everything’s going to be okay.’

  She needs to sleep because she has to be up again in just another three hours. Has to be up and have the bed stripped and sheets changed, has to start getting the breakfast ready. Andy’s bringing tourists home for bacon and eggs and they’ll be here by eight at the latest. Has to have the house right, herself right. Showered, dressed, lipstick on and smiling.

  She’s always pretending now. At home, at church, and she doesn’t like it, doesn’t like that at all. Basically she’s an honest person, she’s never lied before, not about big things, only little lies to stop people getting upset. But now all she does is lie.

  I’ll look after you everything’s going to be okay.

  What is she going to do? Oh, God help her, what should she do?

  In the end she sleeps, wakes with the sun on her face, the alarm jangling. Into the shower, under the steaming, stinging water. Dries her hair, a little make-up to brighten herself up a bit, hide the shadows beneath her eyes. Her jeans and blue shirt, the yellow sweater.

  She hauls the sheets off the bed, rolls them up, carries them down the passage to the laundry. The tiles feel cold beneath her feet, she should turn the heating up. She opens up the washing-machine lid, pushes them in, measures the powder, presses the buttons.

  It’s turned blustery outside, the wind blowing tree branches against the windows. There’s a thud, a gust of wind in the passage. There must be a window open.

  She follows the passage along then down the few steps into the entrance lobby. Lobby. Such a funny-sounding word, she doesn’t know what it means really, but it’s one of the things she likes about the house, this square tiny room, mainly glass, where the sun comes in. When you come inside you feel that warmth and the plants in here do so well.

  The front door’s gaping open. The catch needs tightening and it sometimes blows open in a strong wind. Has to be locked. She must have forgotten last night. She pushes it shut.

  She walks up the steps again.

  ‘Beth,’ she calls, ‘Gracie.’

  Time the girls were up. She hears Beth in the bathroom, looks into Gracie’s room. Her bed’s empty.

  Probably watching TV. She’s not supposed to, but every now and then she tries to get away with it.

  She walks up the stairs towards the living room.

  ‘Gracie,’ she calls. ‘Gracie, where are you?’

  13.

  Dunedin, 2005

  ‘Hi, Elisabeth.’

  She stares up from the bed, her eyes wary.

  ‘I’m Doctor Anderson. You can call me Stephanie, okay?’

  Still that stare. Stephanie picks up the notes from the end of the bed. ‘I see you’re sleeping well and your blood pressure’s down. That’s good, you’re doing well.’

  The voice she’s learned. Calm and reassuring. ‘Elisabeth? Can you tell me how you’re feeling?’

  Her expression is learned as well. She’s practised exactly this portrayal of composure in the mirror. She waits, looking down at her.

  ‘Any time,’ Stephanie says, ‘any time you want to talk just ask for me. Okay, Elisabeth?’

  Elisabeth closes her eyes and shuffles her body around so she’s facing the wall.

  ‘I know this is very hard for you, but we’re here to help when you’re ready. I’m here to help you.’

  Stephanie closes the door, goes back to her office, checks her answerphone, checks for emails. Nothing from Mark. Nothing now for over a week. The weekend went past and he didn’t call or come over. Well, what did you expect?

  She’d phoned Wanda on Saturday. The film festival was on and they chose an Italian one that had had good reviews, went for a meal afterward to a new Indian place. That’s one of the things she can do now she’s working, eat out and go to good films. One of the pleasures of being single, as well. You can phone a friend and go out somewhere together. No demands. No expectations.

  She didn’t enjoy the film as much as she’d expected, somehow she couldn’t concentrate properly. The voices were dubbed and the words didn’t quite fit the movements of the actors’ mouths and she found that distracting and vaguely comical. Anyway, she wasn’t in the mood for one of those dark and brooding films, not after working so hard all week.

  The meal wasn’t that good either. Not enough chilli, too much cream. In the end she pushed away her plate.

  Wanda glanced across the table at her. ‘You’re quiet.’

  ‘Sorry. I’m probably not great company.’

  ‘Hard week?’

  ‘No more than usual.’ She grinned. ‘Maybe I need a holiday. Not that there’s any chance of that for a while.’

  ‘When’s the last time you actually had one? I can’t remember you having a holiday in all the time I’ve known you.’

  ‘I had a week off at Christmas.’

  ‘Yeah, and what did you do with it? Stayed in your flat and worked.’

  ‘It’s difficult to get on with my research while I’m at the clinic every day. Time off gives me some clear space to get on with it.’

  Wanda’s face was serious, her eyes unyielding. For once she wasn’t laughing. ‘How about a bit of clear space for yourself? You went straight from your other job into this one. You didn’t even take a couple of days off in between. You’ll burn out if you don’t watch yourself.’

  ‘I’m tough,’ Stephanie said lightly. ‘I’ll be fine.’

  ‘I’m serious. I’m saying this because you don’t actually look all that fine.’

  ‘I’m okay. Really. I just need some extra sleep. Maybe I’ll take a few days off soon. Wanda, totally confidentially, there’s something I’d like to talk to you about. We’ve got this new patient in. She came over from Public and I can’t get a word out of her. Elisabeth Clark. I just wondered if you’d had anything to do with her.’

  ‘I do remember her. T
oo well, in fact. She threw her dinner at me.’

  Stephanie leaned forward, ‘What happened?’

  ‘She refused visitors. Her father and husband kept phoning wanting to see her then one day they just turned up on the ward. I’m not actually sure what happened, whether she’d said she’d see them or whether it just happened without her agreement, but after they left she threw this huge hissy-fit. Chucked anything she could get her hands on including her dinner.’

  ‘Did she ever talk to anyone? Did anyone get through to her?’

  ‘No. But all the time she was throwing stuff she was yelling. That made what happened even more alarming because up until then she’d been so quiet.’

  ‘Was she just screaming incoherently or did she use words? ’

  ‘She screamed over and over she wanted to die and why didn’t they let her do what she wanted. Things like that. It was hard to pick up exactly what she was saying, she was so distraught.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘We had to restrain her, give her something to calm her down.’

  ‘Then?’

  ‘She went quiet again. Did what she was told, ate what she was given, slept but didn’t talk. Then one of the nurses found her trying to make a rope out of towels she’d taken out of the linen room.’

  ‘Yes, I read about that.’

  Wanda was watching her carefully, her eyes puzzled, ‘Why are you asking? Her behaviour’s not that unusual.’

  ‘I know. It’s just I’d hoped by now she’d be starting to respond to treatment. We’re not letting any visitors in yet because of what happened. We’re trying to keep her feeling as safe and secure as possible. Mainly bed rest, no ward meetings yet, she’s not ready for those obviously. The nurses go in, try to chat a bit and so do I, but nothing. She’s been on antidepressants getting on for six weeks now and she should be starting to show signs of feeling better.’