by Linda Green
‘We were all there for her,’ he says.
‘Oh, I’m not saying you didn’t support her. I’m sure you did. I mean professional help, all the counselling and stuff you can get nowadays.’
Joe looks at Lee. Neither of them say anything.
‘What is it?’ I ask.
‘Look. Lee obviously hasn’t told you, and I appreciate his discretion, but perhaps it’s best you know that Jess was put under psychiatric care for a while after her mum died.’
‘Oh. Oh, I see. You mean she had some sort of breakdown?’
Joe nods and looks down. ‘I think it’s important that everyone who’s going to be supporting her after the birth is aware of that. Just so we can all keep an eye on her.’
‘Yes, of course. Does this mean she’s going to be one of those girls who gets postnatal depression? Only I’ve heard them talk about that on the radio as well and there’s a lot of help they can give for that nowadays too.’
‘No, I’m not saying that at all. I just want us all to be looking out for her. I want to make sure we don’t miss any of the warning signs. I’m sure Lee would agree.’
I look at Lee. His eyes are dark, his face contorted. I know that face. I know it all too well. He didn’t know. Jess must have kept it from him. And now there is going to be a terrible scene.
‘Oh, look,’ I say. ‘We haven’t pulled the crackers. Here you are, Joe, grab the end of this!’
Joe and I have just put our paper hats on when Jess comes back in.
‘Are you OK, love?’ I ask.
‘Yeah, I’m fine, thanks.’
‘I’ll get your dinner out of the oven. Our Lee popped it in to keep it warm for you.’
I put it down on the table in front of her. ‘Don’t worry if you can’t manage it all, just do the best you can.’
She looks up and sees Lee. He is staring at her, his jaw set, his brows heavy. She frowns and looks straight back down again. Fiddles with the napkin in her lap.
I have to do something. I have to lighten the mood. I don’t want everything spoilt again. Too many Christmases have been spoilt over the years.
‘Anyway. Happy Christmas,’ I say, raising my glass. ‘To new beginnings.’
The glasses clink softly against each other. There are a collection of mumbled happy Christmases. No one says anything for a while after that. We eat quietly, accompanied only by the CD. It is when Johnny Mathis gets going with ‘When a Child is Born’ that I look up and see that Jess and her father both have tears in their eyes.
‘There’s more stuffing in the oven if anyone wants it,’ I say. Nobody says anything. I get up anyway and bring it over. On the way past, I press skip on the CD player and Paul McCartney’s ‘Wonderful Christmastime’ comes on. Somehow I don’t feel it would be appropriate to sing along.
PRIVATE MESSAGE
Joe Mount
25/06/2018 8:05pm
I should have seen the signs. That’s what I keep torturing myself about. When I look back, they were there, I just didn’t want to see them. Like when you didn’t come to your mum’s grave that Christmas and I put it down to you being tired. Or when Lee didn’t pour you any wine, without even asking you. I thought it was your decision. I thought everything was your decision. I didn’t believe any man could make my daughter do something she didn’t want to. I mean, it’s not like you were one of those delicate little things, is it? You always gave as good as you got. I should know, I was on the receiving end of it enough times.
I suppose I did notice that you’d changed, but I simply thought it was you growing up. That marriage and motherhood had calmed you down, made you less fiery. My little girl had become a mum – of course she’d be different. That’s what I told myself.
And now I know what was going on – well, some of what was going on, I’m steeling myself to hear the rest of it at the trial – I realise that it was all part of it. And I am sorry, so sorry, that I didn’t realise and step in to help you. If I’d known, I would have come round there straight away and got you, brought you back home. Barricaded the bloody doors and windows to keep him from ever getting to you again. But I didn’t know. And you didn’t tell me. And that is why I will be visiting your grave in a few weeks’ time, on the anniversary of your death. And why I will be sitting in a courtroom in September, listening to how that bastard destroyed you and took your life. I trusted him, Jess. The stupid fool that I am trusted him, because he was always so polite and well turned out. And even when Sadie came to talk to me, my first thought was that you were on the verge of a breakdown again, not that he was pushing you to the brink.
I am dreading the court case, Jess. At times I don’t know how I will possibly get through it. But I will be there every single day and I will listen to every single word, because no one is ever going to pull the wool over my eyes again.
Jess
Sunday, 25 December 2016
We sit in silence during the short journey home. It makes it worse, the knowledge that whatever he has got to say to me cannot be said in the car. Something happened while I was out of the room, I knew it by the tone of Angela’s voice when I came back in and the way my dad squeezed my hand when we left, as if he was trying to say sorry for something that I didn’t even know about yet. And, most of all, I know it because of the way Lee looked at me at the table and has barely spoken to me since.
I think Dad must have said something about Mum, about what happened to me after she died. I don’t know exactly what, but anything was too much. I chose not to tell Lee about it because I was scared it would put him off me, to be honest. And I know that if Dad did say something, it’s only because he worries about me, but I am still bloody furious with him. It is something that happened to Jess Mount and I am not Jess Mount now. I am Jess Griffiths, and it’s got nothing to do with her. Nothing at all.
We pull up outside the apartments. Lee gets out, slamming the door behind him. He comes round and opens the door for me. Usually, he would give me a hand, as I now find it difficult to get out of a car in anything resembling a ladylike fashion, but he doesn’t tonight. He stands there and watches me struggle. As soon as I am out he locks the car and strides off towards the front door. I think for a moment that he won’t let me get in the lift with him, that I will either have to wait for it to come back down or drag myself up the stairs, but he holds the button for me until I am in.
To be honest, I wish he hadn’t. I’ve never seen him like this before and I have no idea if it’s safe for me to be in there with him. It’s like standing next to a volcano just before it erupts. My body is preparing itself for a fight-or-flight response, but my brain keeps reminding me that, at five months pregnant, I am hardly in a condition to do either. I stare straight ahead, avoiding even glancing at his reflection in the mirror in case it tips him over the edge. I sigh as the lift doors open, then I step out and wait for Lee to let us in. I can almost hear the steam hissing out of him. I realise that this could be it, the point where he blows his top and hits me for the first time. Maybe it is all about to start, and here I am walking into the apartment after him. There will be nothing I can do at all once I am inside. If I scream, no one will hear me. I will be on my own.
The door shuts behind us. I try to brace myself for whatever is about to happen. He turns and looks at me, as if waiting for me to say something.
‘Tell me what’s happened. Please tell me,’ I say.
‘I think you’re the one who needs to tell me a few things. Starting with the truth.’
‘Is it about what happened after Mum died?’
‘I don’t know, Jess, you tell me. I don’t seem to know anything about you.’
‘I had to go into hospital for a bit.’
‘A psychiatric hospital, apparently.’
‘Yeah. I had a bit of a meltdown, that’s all. I wasn’t thinking straight.’
‘So why the hell di
dn’t you tell me about it?’ He screams it at me.
I cower back against the wall. ‘I didn’t think it mattered. I was fifteen. I don’t know anything about you when you were fifteen.’
‘You know that I wasn’t in a psychiatric hospital.’
‘It wouldn’t matter if you had been. It wouldn’t change anything.’
‘You made me look stupid.’ He practically spits it out. His face is only a couple of inches from mine. I feel his breath against my face. If he is going to hit me, I wish he would just get it over with. Instinctively, I put my hands over my bump.
‘Look, I’m sorry, OK? I didn’t know my dad was going to say anything. He had no right to tell you.’
Lee grabs hold of my left wrist, squeezing it so hard it hurts.
‘So is there anything else you need to tell me, while we’re about it? Any more little secrets? Ex-boyfriends who are now in Broadmoor?’
‘Lee. Don’t.’
‘Why not? Scared I might not like what I hear?’
I start to cry.
‘Oh, that’s right, turn on the waterworks.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘It’s what women do when they want to get off the hook, isn’t it?’
‘I’m five months pregnant, Lee. It’s another Christmas Day without my mum and my husband is shouting at me. Perhaps that might have something to do with it?’
He puts his face right up against mine. ‘You lied to me, Jess. You made me look stupid. And I am telling you now that you will never do that again, do you hear me?’
I gulp and nod. He lets go of my wrist and heads for the bedroom, pulling the door shut behind him.
I slump to the floor in the hallway, sobbing and shaking. It is happening. He is turning into the monster I told myself he could never be. This is where it starts, where it changes. And maybe it is possible to get from here to murder in six months. If that’s true, then what the hell am I doing still here? H gives me a little kick, as if to remind me of the reason.
If I run now, Lee will find me, I am sure of it. And if he does, I have no idea what he will do to me or my baby. No. I need to stay here. It’s the safest place for H to be. I don’t think Lee will hurt him while I am here.
And maybe it will be better once H is born. Maybe Lee will change. People say parenthood changes them. Perhaps I can still stop this. All I have to do right now is protect H. He is all that matters. As long as he is OK, then everything is fine.
I drag myself up off the floor, take my boots off and hang my jacket on the hook, removing my phone from the pocket as I do so. I head for the bathroom. The tiredness is crushing me but there is no way I am going to bed until I know Lee is asleep. I will not risk him starting up on me again.
I have a wee. Still, even now, I am surprised when I see my bump in front of me. It is not neat like Sadie said it would be. It makes me look like I am massively bloated. I can’t see past it anymore when I look down. I am not the girl Lee fell for. Maybe that is why he’s being like this to me. I wear maternity knickers and bras. I change into leggings and baggy jumpers as soon as I get home. I am too tired to go out and too tired for sex, though sometimes that doesn’t seem to bother him. Mostly we have sex at night with the light off, as if he can’t even bear to look at me anymore.
I wash and dry my hands, put the toilet lid down and sit heavily on it before picking up my phone. I read Dad’s post with tears running down my cheeks. I wish I could call him right now. Tell him everything and have him come and pick me up. Have him chase the monsters away like he used to do when I had nightmares as a kid. But I also know I can’t go back home. It is the first place Lee would come looking for me. And I will not put Dad through any more trauma. He has had enough to last a lifetime.
I flip back to my normal Facebook page. People are posting tributes to George Michael. For a minute I’m not sure if this is somehow in the future as well. I check on the BBC news website. It is real. He is dead. He was only fifty-three. Mum liked him. She used to play his CDs in the car and sing along to them. Apparently I used to do a really cute version of ‘Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go’ from my car seat.
I switch back to Facebook. Someone has posted a joke about it being George Michael’s last Christmas. It is not funny. None of it is funny. Everyone is fucking dying and it is starting to creep me out. I sit there for a long time, clicking on the links to George Michael songs to keep me awake. When I am sure that Lee must be asleep, I brush my teeth, remove my make-up and go to the bedroom. I push the door as gently as possible but it still makes a clicking noise as I enter. Lee has his back to me. If he is awake, he clearly doesn’t want me to know it. I get undressed and squeeze under the duvet. I lie on my side with my back to him; it is the only way that’s comfortable for me to lie now anyway. I put my right hand on my bump and whisper, ‘Night, H, love you.’ And with the other hand, I cling desperately to the bed sheet.
*
The first thing I see in the morning is Lee’s face smiling down at me. He has already drawn the curtains and the sun is streaming in so brightly that I have to squint to see him clearly.
‘Morning,’ he says. ‘I thought a Boxing Day breakfast in bed was in order.’
I look down and see that he is holding a tray with a coffee pot, mugs and a pile of croissants. I rub my eyes and sit up in bed, not sure that I am even awake. He is still smiling at me expectantly, as if last night never happened.
‘Here,’ he says, putting the tray down on my bedside table, taking another pillow and propping it behind me. He picks up a plate from the tray.
‘Chocolate or plain?’ he asks.
‘Er, plain, please.’
He puts a croissant on the plate and hands it to me, before picking up the tray and taking it round to his side of the bed. He gets back in bed next to me, still smiling.
I don’t know what to say or do. I’m scared that if I mention what happened he will flare up again. He looks over and sees me still staring at him.
‘Look, let’s just forget about last night,’ he says. ‘I think we were both tired and I know you’d had a tough day. How about we start Christmas again, from now, just the two of us? Well, three of us,’ he says, correcting himself.
‘But—’
He puts his finger to my lips. ‘Not another word. I don’t want you to worry about anything. Just take it easy. I’m going to be looking after you all day. You don’t even have to get out of bed if you don’t want to.’
He picks up his croissant and takes a bite. I am too stunned to say anything so I simply stare out of the window.
*
We are supposed to be going out for New Year’s Eve. Some bar in town with a whole crowd of people from work and their partners. I can’t think of anything worse, to be honest. I have never liked New Year’s Eve. I remember, as a child, begging Mum to let me stay up to see in the New Year. When, finally, she relented, I sat there listening to the bongs from Big Ben on television, expecting something amazing to happen afterwards. When it didn’t, when it was just a few people, one of them in a kilt, hugging each other, I turned to her and said, ‘Is that it?’
She nodded. ‘Afraid so,’ she replied. ‘Bit of a disappointment, isn’t it?’
I never really bothered after that. The last few years, Sadie and I have had film nights in. That’s where I’d rather be tonight, to be honest. Although I couldn’t possibly tell Lee that.
He comes into the bedroom looking every bit as good as he always has done.
‘Best get a move on,’ he says, seeing me still sitting on the bed in the leggings and jumper I have been wearing all day.
‘I don’t really feel up to it, to be honest,’ I say.
‘Why? What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing. I’m tired, that’s all. And if I go I’ll be half asleep by ten o’clock and I don’t want to drag you back early.’
‘No, you go. I don’t want to spoil your fun.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yeah. I’ll be fine. I’ll get an early night.’
‘I won’t stay much after midnight.’
‘Stay as long as you like.’
‘Right. I may as well make a move then, as I’m all ready.’
‘Yeah. Have a good time. Say hi to everyone.’
I don’t mean the last bit. I’m not really friends with any of them. They are not my type of people. Sadie was right – they are all up-their-own-arses PR types. None of them say anything more than hello or goodbye to me. They treat me like I’m inferior to them, just because I’m working on the front desk.
‘Will do. Happy New Year then.’
He leans down and kisses me on the top of the head. This wasn’t how I had imagined our first New Year’s Eve together would be. Not in a million years.
*
As soon as he has left, I pick up my phone to call Sadie. There’s a chance she might not be doing anything. Maybe she could even come over. She hasn’t been here yet. I didn’t see how I could invite her, after what Lee said about her. Even if I’d picked a time when he was out, I’d have been worried that he’d come back and find her here and the whole thing would kick off again. The phone rings a couple of times before she answers. I can hear a lot of noise in the background.
‘Hey, you,’ she says. ‘How you doing?’
‘Yeah, OK. A bit knackered, that’s all. Where are you?’
‘Work. I volunteered to come in, seeing as I didn’t have any better offers. How about you?’
‘At home. Lee’s, I mean. We were supposed to be going out but I didn’t feel up to it.’
‘So you’re having a quiet night in together instead?’
‘No. He’s gone. It was a work thing. I said I didn’t mind.’
‘Right.’
‘What time do you finish? Only I wondered if you fancied coming over for a bit.’