Naive Retribution

by Dawson, H A

  She thrust down the glass dishes, banged closed the cupboard door, and stomped up the stairs. Once in the bathroom, she rested her hands on the basin, fought her welling eyes and heaving chest, and avoided looking to her reddened and anguished face in the mirror. William was not willing to relent and was going to force her to speak to Luke. He had seen through her pathetic masquerade and ignored her excuses. Rubbing her hands across her face, her chest rose and fell.

  ‘Jade,’ William said, ‘please come out.’

  She looked to the door, voiceless.

  ‘I know this is hard for you. That’s why I’ve come home early.’

  ‘You needn’t have bothered. I’m not doing it.’

  After a moments silence, William requested the door was opened. Relenting to his demands, she shuffled across and moved the latch. He eased it open and his agony lined his face. It reminded her of the time, years previous, when he had spent days and weeks trying to end her self-destructive behaviour and replace it with something more conducive. Her self-esteem had dropped to an all-time low, and she had grown tired of blanking out her trauma with drink and drugs. She wanted to be clean and lead a better life, but she didn’t have the strength to seek a solution alone.

  William swept Jade into his arms, and she felt the reassuring beat of his heart. Back then he had been her only support, and nurtured her through difficult moments, when her words were filled with venom, and her anger and hatred infiltrated her blood, her actions, and her decisions.

  Jade’s shame lined her face. The moments when she had either hit him or fired hurtful accusations were too many to count, and remained with her with a desperate clarity. At the time, she sought the power it provided. Her reasoning was bizarre, not something she could understand, but more importantly, she still did not know why William had tolerated it.

  ‘Why did you put up with me when we met?’ Jade asked.

  ‘Because I loved you.’

  ‘But how . . . why?’ Jade asked. ‘I was horrible to you.’

  He eased a strand of hair from her face. ‘We had good moments too. Remember when we went off to London for the weekend, and your heel came off you shoe just as we’d arrived at the restaurant.’

  ‘That wasn’t funny.’

  William grinned. ‘You did an abysmal job of trying to hide it. Don’t take up acting.’

  ‘Okay, so what about the time you tripped up in the River Island store, and you fell into that woman’s arms. The look she gave you was a corker! I wished I’d had my camera.’

  ‘You didn’t help, laughing the way you did. She thought she’d been set up.’

  Jade led the way, returning down the stairs. ‘I was convinced she was going to slap you.’

  ‘Me too. Why do you think I backed off? I was only trying to apologise.’

  ‘By putting your hand on her arm. Dumb idea. She thought you were trying to touch her up.’

  ‘She was over-sensitive,’ William said. ‘Do I look like a pervert?’

  Jade studied his face. He had naturally thick hair, which had a wild, unkempt feel about it when he grew it long, but as it was, it had been razor cut to a short length, softening his strong jaw and angular features. He could not be described as handsome, and lines had already set around his mouth and eyes prematurely aging him, but there was something appealing about him, something she could not place.

  ‘Don’t answer that,’ he said with a glint in his eye. ‘I don’t want to hear it.’

  ‘I was just wondering what perverts are meant to look like.’

  ‘You’d be able to tell.’ His expression turned serious and he clutched her hand. ‘Please don’t let this sicko get to you. That’s why we’re hiring Luke Adams. He can do the worrying for us.’

  A shiver descended her spine. ‘I’m . . . I’m not sure I can go through with it.’

  ‘You can. I’ve seen how strong you are.’

  ‘And how weak.’

  ‘Okay, that too. But that’s the very reason you’ll do this. Neither of us want to see you go through that again.’

  She pulled away. ‘That’s the very reason I can’t do it. What if my memories return? What if I find out I did something horrible? Things are likely to get worse before they get better.’

  ‘Not necessarily. It could be over in a heartbeat.’

  She held her breath, then forced out her words. ‘I don’t think the drawing refers to my two brothers.’

  ‘What makes you say that?’

  Jade shook her head as sickness rose to her throat. She pressed her hand to her upper chest and fought for steady breaths.

  ‘Have more memories returned?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘So it’s just an sense?’

  She nodded.

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘There are times when I hate my amnesia. If it had never occurred, I wouldn’t be like this. I would have known what I had done and I would have recovered years ago.’

  As soon as the words slipped from her mouth, she regretted them. If she had done something with far greater implications, as she feared, then it was possible that she still may not have recovered from her ordeal, then the truth was better left obscured.

  She glanced to William, waiting for him to comment, but he said nothing, and kept a straight face and shuffled around the kitchen.

  ‘You’re meant to reassure me,’ she said, searching.

  ‘Jade . . . I have done, many times. I can’t keep saying it.’

  ‘I need to hear it.’

  ‘Kath said you’ve nothing to fear.’

  ‘Did she?’

  He nodded.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

  William did not respond and looked to her with puzzlement, as though wondering why it mattered so much to her.

  ‘Do you believe she told the truth?’ Jade asked.

  ‘Of course. Why wouldn’t I?’

  Jade remained silent and pensive. Kath could have lied. She may be protecting someone, or even herself. Without her memories, there was no way for Jade to determine the truth.

  She could trust no one, not even her sister.

  Maybe William was right; maybe Kath was her stalker. She had been trying to form a relationship for months, years even. Did she have a need, something she hadn’t, as yet, been able to broach? Perhaps, since she had been rejected so many times, she had chosen to be more assertive. It seemed likely.

  Jade paced the room, spoke nonsense to William, and made attempts at her various pastimes as a means of distraction. Nothing worked, and the closer four o’clock came, the less she was able to keep still.

  ‘Maybe he’s not coming,’ she said, rubbing her hands across her arms.

  ‘He’ll be here.’

  She stared onto the street, and each time a car approached the house, her heart skipped a beat.

  ‘I think I’m going to be sick.’

  ‘You’ll be fine, and I’ll be at your side. Try not to worry.’

  ‘Easy for you to say. Are you sure we’re doing the right thing?’

  ‘Absolutely.’

  Just a short distance away, a cat skulked in the undergrowth, and a few doors down the street a window cleaner grabbed his belongings, deposited them in the rear of his van, and returned for his ladders. Unable to gather strength from the visible tranquillity, Jade turned around, her arms pressing against her abdomen, and looked at the time, it was two minutes to four.

  She skipped to the landline phone and checked for messages, then did the same on her mobile. Nothing. She hurried back to the window. A woman pushed a pram down the street and a small boy clung to her skirt.

  ‘He’s not going to come any quicker if you’re watching for him,’ William said

  Another car passed, then another. The second moved slower, and there was a man inside peering at the houses. The car stopped next to the drive.

  ‘I think he’s here,’ Jade said.

  Her pulse raced. Stepping back so as not to appear desperate, she peeked through the window an
d studied her old school friend. Even through it was twenty years since she had seen him he hadn’t changed a great deal. His hair was fine and mousy-coloured, he was slim but with a little extra weight around the middle, and he had a high forehead and slightly asymmetrical features.

  She hurried to the door and thrust it open.

  ‘Luke,’ Jade said, ‘good to see you. You’re looking great.’

  ‘You too. How are you keeping, aside from this stalker business?’

  ‘Good. You?’

  ‘I am. I’ve just become a father.’

  After offering her congratulations, speaking a little about old times and having introduced William, they moved into the lounge with drinks. Keen to get on, Luke placed a recorder on the table and retrieved a notebook and pen from a leather satchel. Aware that the interview was about to start, Jade stiffened, her arms locked at her side and her focus was lost.

  ‘I’ll try to make this as pain free as possible,’ Luke said, catching her eye, ‘Can we start by going through the messages?’

  Jade nodded.

  ‘What form did they take?’

  ‘They came on my mobile phone. It started a few weeks ago. I wondered if it was someone I knew, but I can’t imagine anyone I know doing something like that.’

  ‘Have you given your number out to anyone recently?’

  ‘No. When it started, that was the first thing I considered.’

  ‘What about shops or online purchases?’

  ‘Erm . . . maybe.’

  ‘Can you try to remember for me?’

  She tried but her mind was fog. She shook her head in dismay.

  ‘Okay, never mind, but if you do remember, let me know.’

  ‘I will.’

  ‘Did you keep the messages?’

  ‘I deleted a couple. I’ll forward the rest to you.’

  ‘Thanks. That would be good.’

  ‘They’re very general. I doubt you’ll see anything useful in them.’

  ‘You said on the phone that the stalker seems to know things about your past. Why is this?’

  Jade’s pulse quickened. She reached to her bag for the drawing and passed it across. ‘I found this in my bag a few days ago. It appeared after I’d been to the supermarket.’

  ‘And after you’d been with Kath,’ William interjected.

  Frowning, Jade looked to her feet.

  ‘Kath is Jade’s sister,’ he continued. ‘I asked her about the stalker, but she was quick to deny it.’

  Luke looked between them, pensive, and then back to the drawing. ‘Do you have any ideas what the word denial refers to?’

  She pressed a cushion to her middle and shook her head.

  ‘But you think it’s something to do with the fire?’

  ‘It has to be.’

  William touched her thigh. ‘She suffers dissociative amnesia.’

  ‘Oh, right. How far does it extend?’

  ‘Up until the other day, I only knew the facts, but then . . .’ her eyes flitted, searching for reassurance, ‘. . . then I remembered my little brothers’ screaming out my name. It was horrible. I let them die in the fire. “Jade, Jade,” they cried. I . . . I . . . saved myself.’

  She yearned for a compassionate response, something more than a cold stare to dissolve her self-reproach, and had not expected his silence. It was a similar experience to visiting the doctors. She hoped for an equally worthy solution.

  ‘So your amnesia relates only to the fire,’ Luke said eventually.

  ‘It’s patchy . . . selective. I can’t remember much during the proceeding couple of weeks, or immediately after. What I do remember is insignificant, like doing homework or laying in bed.’

  ‘When it first happened did you know who you were?’

  ‘I did, although at first I felt like I was dreaming. It was as though I was detached from my own body. It was very confusing.’

  Luke nodded, encouraging her on.

  ‘In many ways, I felt as though I’d taken on a different personality and started doing things I would never have done in the past.’ She glanced at William. ‘I acted out of character.’

  ‘What did you do?’

  Jade turned away. She had hoped Luke wouldn’t be so direct and craved a vague answer to form in her head.

  He stared, waiting.

  ‘Unless, it’s relevant, I’d rather not talk about it,’ she said lowering her gaze.

  ‘This stalker may not be connected to your family’s troubles. I am going to have to explore all aspects of your life.’

  ‘For now I’d like to stick with the issues with my family. I’m sure that’s what this note refers to.’

  ‘Okay. But we may have to discuss this later.’ Luke looked through his notes. ‘I’d like to go back to the fire. Where was Kath that night?’

  ‘She was staying at a friend’s house.’

  ‘Can I have the address?’

  ‘I doubt they’d be able to tell you anything. It’s a long time ago.’

  Luke was waiting, his pen poised.

  ‘It was 16 Dunstan Avenue, Misthill. We lived at number one.’

  ‘And she was there all night.’

  ‘So I believe.’

  ‘Of course . . . sorry.’ He flipped over a sheet of paper. It was filled with scrawl, and a phrase near the bottom was ringed. Jade could not see what it said.

  ‘I’ve read that your father admitted to starting the fire. Do you know why?’

  Jade’s body quivered and her skin turned itchy and hot. ‘I only know what I’ve been told . . . that as he couldn’t provide for us he had decided to take us with him to the next life. He said we were his responsibility.’

  She held a taut arm to her front and her emotions tumbled. Her father had wanted her dead. Years on, it still seemed unbelievable. He had always seemed a decent sort of man, and she felt she had had a good relationship with him; he had praised her for looking after her mother and younger brothers, and he had rarely punished her. He had never showed signs he had wanted her dead. Never.

  ‘Jade?’ William said softly.

  She spun to face him, her mouth ajar.

  ‘Luke was speaking to you.’

  ‘Did you notice any signs of his depression?’ Luke asked.

  She shook her head, her words blocked.

  ‘Could it be because of what happened to your mother?’

  An image flashed into her mind. Her mother was in the bathtub, drowned; her eyes were wide, her face white and her lips blue. She spun around, Kath was there, and her sleeves and arms were wet. She was shaking, and her distress scrunched her face; she looked like an old woman and not her irksome little sister. Jade could not provide her with a consoling hand; her heart had been ripped out. All the years she had dedicated to helping her mother, and they had been taken in an instant.

  Jade turned to William. ‘I remember Mum’s death.’

  She slipped into his arms and buried her face into his shoulder, and she sensed Luke’s stare pressed into her skull.

  ‘Jade,’ he said, ‘I’ve read your mother wanted herself dead. Why was this?’

  She lifted her face from the warmth and security of William’s shoulder, and passed him a plaintive glance. It was time she told her story.

  Chapter 9

  Mid 1990’s

  The blue LCD on the clock radio displayed 6:32am. Swivelling her neck, Jade looked across to Kath’s bed. She was on her stomach on top of the covers, and wearing a short denim skirt, orange tights, and a jacket. Her makeup was smeared across the pillow and down her face, and her dyed black hair was ragged. Disappointed that once again Kath had disregarded their mother’s request not to drink, Jade turned away.

  She pricked back her ears, easing them from the pillow, and listened for movement in the next room. All was quiet. Grateful for a chance to get a bit extra sleep, she shut her eyes and relaxed her mind, but it wasn’t long before she heard a familiar whimper and groan. She thrust back the covers, leapt from her bed, and slid her feet in
to her slippers.

  Tiptoeing along the landing, careful not to wake her brothers, Brian and John, she stepped towards her mother’s room and poked her head around the door. Nancy was facing towards her and she was trying to move. Her breaths were short and swift, and her grunts incessant.

  ‘Mum,’ Jade said. ‘Are you all right?’

  Nancy’s expression was anguished and pain-stricken, her skin was a sickly grey colour, and her hair was coarse and rough. She was not yet forty yet looked much older since her rheumatoid arthritis had severely aged her. She moved like someone in her eighties, with no swiftness or verve and less strength than a small child. It was a distressing sight.

  Their gazes locked. ‘I need a pee,’ Nancy whimpered.

  ‘Can I help?’

  Her distress was evident. It was a weak attempt to push her away, but it was such a familiar sight that Jade could not to take her seriously, and stepped to her bedside and lifted the covers. She was about to help her mother upright, when she hesitated. Jade had done it many times before, and it never got easier for either of them.

  ‘Ready?’ Jade said.

  Her mother nodded.

  Jade slid her arms around her back, steadied her feet so as not to slip, and heaved. Nancy screamed. Jade jerked backwards in terror. She knew she had just added to her pain.

  ‘It’s my shoulders.’ Nancy rocked back her forth, fighting her tears, and with her arms tight by her side and bent at the elbows. ‘The pain never goes away.’

  Jade scrunched her face.

  ‘I can’t take any more.’

  ‘Do you want some painkillers?’

  ‘They don’t do anything.’

  ‘You should go back to the doctors. They must be able to give you something to help.’

  She shook her head. Grimacing, Nancy shifted her legs over the side of the bed. ‘Help me get up.’

  Her mother’s body was frail and cumbersome; her finger joints were red and gnarled, her knees were puffed up like balloons, and her toes were knobbly and set in a permanent bent position. Taking care not to touch her hot, inflamed wrists or jerk her shoulders, Jade helped her to an upright position. This time her mother did not scream.