The Silenced Wife

by Collette Heather

  ‘Yeah,’ Linda said, knowing full well that his dark humour was hiding his bruised heart.

  ‘I just want to do what’s right by Becky, I want to be there for her. I felt a bit guilty when I was keeping vigil at Joyce’s bedside at the hospital, but I just wanted to be there for her when she woke up. I got rid of the temporary nanny when Joyce came home. It’s just me and Becky now. And Joyce, of course.’

  Yes, thought Linda. And Joyce. Poor old Joyce. Aaron had explained to them that the fall must have triggered her dormant insanity – a hereditary condition from her mother’s side. As a teenager, she’d had a spell in a mental asylum and this tragic accident had brought all her problems to the fore. Her mother’s suicide hadn’t helped either, triggering her madness still further.

  What a mess she was in, Linda thought sadly. Despite everything, Joyce was so lucky to have such an amazing, understanding, intelligent man looking after her.

  ‘Can I nip upstairs and see her?’ Linda asked.

  ‘I’m not sure that’s such a good idea. She’s having one of her episodes. She gets violent and when she gets like that, I’d rather that she stay alone in her room. She’s attacked her own daughter twice now. She may not be able to walk, but if you get too close, she’ll go for your throat, or your eyes. She does calm down, but I find it best to leave her when she’s like this. I’ve sedated her, but I haven’t knocked her out completely, or restrained her; I find that practice cruel.’

  ‘Well, I’d still really like to see her.’

  ‘I’ll come with you, then,’ Aaron said, getting to his feet. ‘I haven’t checked on her for twenty minutes, I’m due to go up and see how she’s doing.’

  ‘I’d rather go alone, if that’s okay with you. She might respond better to me if I’m alone.’

  ‘Well, if you’re sure.’

  ‘Quite sure.’

  ‘She’s so unstable, just please, be careful, and keep your distance. Any problem, just ring the bell next to her bed or scream for help, okay?’

  ‘Okay.’

  Linda left the bright sunshine of the garden behind her and entered the house. She walked up the stairs, trailing her hand over the tracks of the stairlift that Aaron had had installed. There were wheelchair ramps everywhere in the house, he really was so caring and thoughtful.

  It was dark up in Joyce’s room as the red velvet curtains were drawn and she was lying on top of the made-up bed wearing pyjamas. The room had a desk overlooking the back garden with her wheelchair before it. On top of the desk was a thick, leather bound book and a pen. Next to the desk was a bookcase brimming with books. Aaron said that Joyce loved to read, and he kept her well-stocked.

  ‘Hello Joyce. How are you feeling?’

  She winced at her own stupid question, but Christ, what the hell else was she supposed to say?

  Joyce only gurgled in response. The poor woman still couldn’t speak, having never regained her voice after that horrific accident. Their eyes locked in the gloomy bedroom and Linda shuddered; Aaron was right, she did just look so crazed. She struggled to sit up but kept flopping back down on her back. Her breathing was heavy and distressed.

  Linda took a step towards her. Joyce shook her head.

  ‘No? You don’t want me to help you to sit up? Do you want to come downstairs? I’ll get Aaron and he can carry you to the stairlift. It’s a beautiful day. Becky’s playing with Bertie in the garden.’

  Joyce shook her head and pointed to her desk.

  ‘You want to sit at your desk?’

  Joyce frantically shook her head. She pointed again, stabbing at the desk repeatedly with jerky movements.

  ‘You want something from your desk? A book to read?’

  She nodded to the first part of that question and shook her head to the latter. Linda wandered over to the desk, her gaze falling on the leather-bound book. Gently, she traced her fingers over the surface of it before resting the flat of her palm against the cover.

  ‘You want this?’

  Joyce nodded and Linda picked it up to carry it over to her. She started shaking her head again and pointing first to the book, then to her.

  ‘Oh. You want me to have it?’

  Then Joyce stared up at the ceiling, and she screamed. The sight of it turned Linda’s blood to ice, for she did it silently. It was the most disconcerting thing that she had ever seen.

  ‘Joyce?’ she called softly. ‘Joyce?’ she said again, louder this time.

  Joyce just continued to scream, her hands balled into fists, her eyes bulging and her face red.

  Slowly, Linda backed out of the room.

  Out in the hallway, she flopped against the wall, badly shaken.

  Joyce was completely off her bloody rocker. She opened the book and it was filled with handwriting. Joyce’s writing. The spidery scrawl was almost illegible and Linda had some difficulty making out the words. Only then did it occur to her that she had been given her diary.

  She opened a page at random in the middle of the book and began to read:

  In the kitchen, Aaron greeted me with a bright smile, and immediately he strode over towards me, catching me completely by surprise when he planted a kiss on my opened, stunned mouth.

  I looked over at Becky, who was sitting on the floor by the French doors, playing with her teddy and another bear I didn’t recognise. If she had seen the kiss, she didn’t seem to mind. My heart tripped in a mix of confusion and hope – if Aaron was kissing me in front of Becky, then surely he had swiftly moved into “boyfriend” territory? But if that wasn’t the case, then the signals he was throwing off to Becky were just flat-out cruel.

  He continued to smile warmly at me, going a long way to allaying my panic. I had chosen to stay the night, after all. I had knowingly let my daughter sleep in his house.

  By God, I really do think we’re in the realms of a relationship…

  That fact was as exhilarating as it was terrifying.

  ‘Excuse me a sec, better check on the bacon.’

  He hurried over to the oven, and I sniffed the air. It did smell great in here, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the smell of sizzling bacon, making my stomach growl.

  I wandered over to Becky and crouched down next to her. ‘Hey sweetie, who’s that you’ve got there?’

  ‘Doodoo.’

  ‘Doodoo, huh? He’s a nice bear.’

  ‘Doodoo is another relic from my childhood. I found him stashed away with the board games in a cupboard upstairs,’ Aaron called over to me as he turned the bacon in the frying pan…

  Linda shut the book, feeling vaguely guilty for reading Joyce’s innermost thoughts.

  But she gave it to you. She wants you to read it.

  Even so, that fact didn’t sit easy with her; it felt too much like prying. She took it downstairs, carrying it out to the men on the patio.

  ‘What’s that you got there?’ Gary asked.

  Aaron, who had been watching Becky play, snapped his head round in Linda’s direction.

  ‘Oh, you found her dairy,’ he said flatly. ‘Did you read any of it?’

  ‘She insisted that I take it. And only a page,’ she responded guiltily. ‘Something about you cooking breakfast for them.’

  ‘Do you mind if I keep hold of that? It’s just kind of personal, I guess. She enjoys writing. She sits at that desk in her wheelchair and can write for hours at time. The last three weeks she’s been pretty much writing non-stop. I think it does her good, to get her emotions down on paper like that. But there’s some descriptions of sex in it, you know, with me,’ he said, his cheeks tinged with red. ‘Not to mention that Joyce has lost her mind and some of the diary is just violent ranting. It’s very disturbing to read, in places.’

  ‘Oh. Yes, of course, I understand. I didn’t mean to pry.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t think that at all. How was she? I should go up and check on her. Maybe I should sedate her some more if she’s distressed.’

  Linda shivered, despite the warmth of the day
. ‘Yeah, I guess you could say that she was distressed.’

  ‘You’re doing an amazing job looking after her,’ Gary said, ‘but don’t you think you should perhaps have her put into care?’

  ‘No,’ Aaron said flatly. ‘I love her, I wouldn’t dream of it. She belongs here, with me. More tea?’ he asked, getting to his feet.

  ‘Sure,’ Linda and Gary said unison.

  On his way past, he took the diary out of Linda’s hands. Fleetingly, she wondered what secrets would have been revealed within its pages, then she told herself off for being so nosey.

  The ramblings of a mad woman were none of her business.

  She turned her face to the warm sunshine, thinking of Joyce, upstairs screaming. What a mess that poor woman was in.

  Still, at least she and Becky had Aaron to look after them.

  THE END.