by Dawson, H A
‘Could be. It fits.’
‘How does that make you feel?’
Bitterness crept into her voice. ‘It doesn’t surprise me. Jade was an angel in their eyes. They’d have done anything for her.’
‘Would he have done the same for you?’
Kath jerked. ‘I thought we were talking about Jade. You know, it makes sense now. Dad must have been covering for her. What a rotten bitch! How could she do such a thing? She deserves what’s coming to her.’
Luke watched and listened. She was anxious, and could not spit out the words quickly enough. She also seemed to be getting hot, and her skin at her neckline was turning patchy red.
‘I’ve tried so hard to be nice to Jade,’ she continued, ‘and for what? What do I ever get out of anything? Jade was such a princess . . . could never do wrong. Take the other day. We had agreed to go for a drink and she tried to escape without been noticed. Does she think I’m stupid or something, or is it she doesn’t think I’m worth speaking to? Just because I’m not as rich as her, doesn’t mean I’m less worthy.’
‘What has she actually done to hurt you so much?’
Kath jumped to her feet and glared. ‘Nothing! She’s done nothing!’
‘Is that the problem?’
‘What?’
‘Should she have done something?’
Kath hurried to her kitchen door, holding it open. ‘I think we’re done here.’
Luke tried to calm her down, but she wasn’t happy, so he signalled Imogen to assist. Her jovial manner and convivial approach lightened the atmosphere, and very quickly, he felt as though he was in the position to resume the interview. However, before he had a chance the telephone sounded. Kath answered and a brief conversation ensured. It was bad news; she wasn’t offered the job she had hoped for and despondency spread across her face. Imogen voiced her sympathies, and with kind and motivating words attempted to keep her upbeat. Nonetheless, it was evident that the lack of a job offer had hit her hard.
‘Up until a few weeks ago everything seemed to have turned around,’ she said to Imogen, ‘I had a great job and a wonderful family. I was even seeing more of Jade, which, believe it or not, is what I want.’
‘She means a lot to you then?’ Imogen asked.
‘She’s the only family I have. I thought I saw signs we were starting to re-connect. Evidently, I was wrong.’
‘Why do you say that?’
‘A few weeks ago it appeared she’d stopped making excuses to meet, but then, out of the blue turned me down claiming she was going to play tennis. I hung around in the clubhouse for the entire evening, waiting for her. She never turned up. It was all lies.’
‘Do you know why she does this?’
‘She just doesn’t want to talk to me.’
‘Why do you think that is?’
‘I don’t know. We’ve never gotten on, but we are family. She matters to me. I’ve tried to force her hand, but nothing works. I think she’s thick-skinned or something.’ Kath held her head in her hands.
Luke checked his notes as the women chatted. He was starting to sympathise with Kath and it was turning him against Jade. That was not good news. He needed a more assertive approach and could not be drawn into taking sides.
‘Jade told us you once said, “If I can forgive and forget, I’m sure you can.” What did you mean?’
Kath flinched. ‘I never said that.’
‘She was certain you did . . . at the tennis club. She said it’s emblazoned in her mind.’
‘If I did it was a mistake. I was probably angry with her over something.’
‘Why would that be?’
‘She always makes everything so difficult.’ Kath stiffened, her neck extending. ‘She cuts me out and lies to me. I’ve told you all this.’
‘Even so, you must have had a reason for claiming you’d forgiven her.’
‘I don’t remember saying it.’
Luke raised his fist to his mouth. She had regained her composure; it was pointless pursuing the matter. ‘Did you get along with your family?’
Kath held a cold stare. ‘I didn’t want them dead, if that’s what you mean.’
‘And your mother?’
‘You know about my conviction. There’s nothing more to be said.’
Luke hesitated. She had the same look in her eye that she had when she spoke of her dismissal from work. She felt hurt, betrayed and unloved, and consequently suffered deep within. He considered Jade’s account of their family life and how Kath was so often reviled, and suddenly felt a need to hear her explanation of events.
‘I’d like to hear your account of the situation,’ he said softly.
‘Would you?’
‘Yes I would.’
Kath took a deep breath. He leaned back into the chair.
Chapter 17
Mid 1990’s
Kath’s ankle turned. She yelped, slowed her pace to check it was okay, and continued pounding the disintegrating concrete, away from the house. The track was unused by road traffic and had not been maintained for years, and it showed. The edges were crumbling, floating debris littered the surface, and the potholes were numerous, in some cases extending the width of the road. Taking more care with her footsteps, and either weaving around the depressions or stepping over them, she continued on to the park.
Her head pounded after her argument with her father and Jade, and she wanted silence. She willed the continuous criticism of her behaviour to stop, along with the chastisement and the lack of understanding. She tried to block the sounds. Their fury saturated her thoughts, she was useless, scum . . . worthless.
Kath passed through the park gates, proceeding along the path around the perimeter, and kept her head low, avoiding making eye contact with a group of older men and women playing bowls. A few people were present, some with a sense of purpose and walking a direct route, others taking a late afternoon stroll and meandering, and whilst they didn’t encroach on her space, their presence was oppressive. She wanted solitude, away from judgement and their prying eyes, she carried on, marching to the disused bandstand.
It was a three-sided rectangular brick structure with a roof. At the front, was a short wall, a metre or so in height, and there was a gap in the centre. Given its location, and the fact it provided the occupants with a view of the playing fields, it was the perfect spot for hanging out, and thus was often occupied by youths. Unfortunately, today was one of those days, and not wanting to be sociable, Kath avoided taking the left path and continued down a main walkway. She strode towards the greenhouses.
A woman and two girls in their early teens headed along the same path, walking towards her. Their chirpiness rattled. The girls oozed effervescence and the woman, presumably their mother, laughed alongside. Then she wiped something from her daughter’s face. There was no animosity. It was evident that they had the perfect family life and it was nauseating.
They didn’t have a clue what it was like in the real world. They probably had pots of money, and a wider family who were supportive and gushing with compliments. It was unlikely that they had ever experienced difficulties, and the girls, for certain, wouldn’t know what it was like having a sick mother or a father who worked away. If they did, it was unlikely they would cope. No one could.
Kath’s shoulders slumped and her head dipped, and she shuffled along, arriving at the rear of a large greenhouse. It had been a few months since it was used for its intended purpose, as like much of the park it had struggled from a lack of funds. As a result, some of the panes of glass were shattered and the nearby flowerbeds empty. Having said that, some maintenance had taken place, as weeds were sparse. However, there was no beauty about the place, no colours and textures and no gentle scents.
She opened the glass door and stepped into the warmth. There were trestles extending along the length at each side, and paving stones forming a path in the centre, and bar a few scattered pots, there was little else present. Grateful for her isolation, she crouched down and s
at in a gap on the floor, leaning against supportive framework. By her side was an empty drinks can with sweet and chip wrappers, evidence of a previous visit. Her stomach churned; she needed food, something to fill the emotional hollow.
Craving to be segregated from her thoughts, Kath closed her eyes, but instead she was drowned by a wave of dark clouds. No one understood her; her father found her disruptive and wanted to quash her concerns rather than address them, and her mother cared for no one but herself. She was selfish and entirely absorbed with all that was wrong with her. Why couldn’t she think about what she could do, instead of her incapabilities? There were still plenty of opportunities and her life was by no means over. She may not be as physically able as many, but she had her mind, her thoughts and her brain. She could learn something new, she could make herself useful at the community centre, and she could socialise with friends. Instead, she wallowed, day in, day out, focusing only on the pain. It ruled her life; it was beating her into submission. She was better than that, at least she should be.
Kath ran her hands through her hair, exasperated, and stared at the algae on the glass. Why couldn’t her mother fight her rheumatoid arthritis? She knew she was in pain, and it was probably more than Kath had ever encountered, but it couldn’t be that bad, surely? She must be exaggerating. Was it that she enjoyed Jade’s attention? The thought lay heavy in Kath’s stomach.
Forlorn, she lifted her knees to her chest and her face scrunched, tightening with every difficult breath. She was superfluous to her family’s requirements, the middle child, the unwanted child, and she had no place. Her agony pounded her veins, burning the tissues within. She released an elongated moan.
Jade didn’t help. She enjoyed the power; it made her feel like she was mother. She bossed them all. Brian and John tolerated it, but she couldn’t. Jade may be a little older, but she was still an underling. She had no rights over her. Who did she think she was?
Footsteps sounded and the door squeaked open. Kath jolted and looked up through blurry eyes. It was Jade. She jumped to her feet, blinked away her tears and displayed an assertive front.
‘Kath,’ Jade said, ‘you have to come home.’
She pushed past, heading into the fresh air and stomping away. ‘I don’t have to do anything you say.’
‘You do. Dad told me to get you. Please . . . come home.’
‘Try and make me.’
‘Please . . . it’s Mum.’
Kath stopped and turned to face her. There was hesitation and distress in her eyes. Something was wrong. However, she wasn’t going to show a weakness. They didn’t care about her, so why should she care about them? She hurried forward.
‘Wait,’ Jade said, ‘Dad said-’
‘Who cares what Dad said . . . like I ever do what he says anyway.’
‘I can’t go home without you . . . he told me not to.’
‘That’s your problem.’
‘But Mum-’
‘I don’t want to hear it!’
Kath hurried forward. What had happened? Was she okay? These questions dominated her mind, and her earlier anguishes and drives forgotten. She should go home, yet at the same time, doing as she was told made her feel vulnerable and weak, and it was an intolerable feeling. She started to run, fleeing her own demons, and refusing to allow her softer, inferior side to dominate. She had to fight it. Anything else would only lead to pain.
In the background, she could hear Jade’s feeble cries. She tried not to listen and forced herself to move faster, wanting only to focus on the sound of her breathing pounding in her ears. But, it didn’t not deaden the sound. Even when Jade stopped calling out, her voice remained an irritating cry in her head.
She ran, weaving along alleys and streets, and stopped when she was sure her sister would not find her. Having found a suitably isolated place, she slipped to the ground in a bundle and waited for her gasps to stop and her heart to regulate. On the face of it, she appeared calm, but inside she was a torrent of emotions. More than anything, she wanted to go home. Eventually, she relented.
Darkness had descended and Kath had reached intolerable levels of loneliness. She was cold, hungry and desperate for a hug, and whilst she did not believe she would hear kind words or compassionate gestures, she at least hoped for a bite to eat and a warm bed. Wishing to creep inside unseen, she tiptoed past the illuminated windows, strained to listen for any sounds, and opened the door.
‘Where the hell have you been?’ her father’s voice boomed.
‘It’s not late.’
‘Jade told you to come home. Why did you disobey her?’
‘She’s my sister not my mother!’
‘None of your lip! Do you have any idea of the trouble you’re in?’
Kath rolled her eyes and tried to slink past. He blocked the doorway through to the hallway. She tussled. He gripped her arm and yanked her to the wall.
‘I don’t want one peep out of you,’ he said, ‘you’ll go to your room and stay there until you grow up. There’ll be no more liberties. You’re grounded until further notice.’
‘You can’t make me stay in. I won’t be a prisoner.’
‘Your mother’s had enough of you, and quite frankly, I have too. You’ll start showing a bit of respect, instead of being the ungrateful little cretin that you are.’
Kath rolled her eyes and puffed out.
‘We’re all sick of running ragged after you. You’re fifteen years old, yet act no more than five. It’s time you grew up. Jade will make you a list of chores and you’ll do exactly as she asks.’
‘You can’t make me.’
‘That’s where you’re wrong.’
‘I won’t do it.’
She wriggled free and ran to the outer door. But she did not get far before he had grabbed her arm, wrenching it backwards. She screamed, a self-pitying scream, as he pinned her against the door. The pressure of his grip on her arms slowed the blood supply, and her hands tingled. She screamed again, her heat rising to her face. She twisted, this way and that. He held her tight.
‘You do nothing but cause trouble,’ Greg said. ‘You either grow up or get out. We don’t have time for your antics and tantrums.’
‘If you treated me better, I wouldn’t act that way. Jade is so perfect in your eyes . . . the boys too. You play with them all the time.’
He stared, analysing.
‘You always have time for the others. I might as well not exist. It’s always wonderful Jade, or look what Jade’s done. What about me? Don’t I ever deserve any praise?’
‘You do not. You come in all hours, without a word to anyone as to where you are, and you disregard everything I say. You show no respect to your mother, and you never assist your brothers. You’re selfish, through and through, and no daughter of mine. Jade has to do-.’
‘I don’t want to hear it. I wish you were dead . . . all of you.’
‘My sentiments exactly.’
Kath’s adrenalin surged. Suddenly she was capable of anything, and fought with a newfound strength, kicking, punching, and tearing at his clothes as perspiration dripped from her red-hot skin, clouding her vision. Glasses rolled across the kitchen surface, a ceramic jar crashed to the floor, and a notice board and calendar tore from the wall. Greg tried to the pin her down. It was futile. Instead, he grabbed her hair, opened the door, and pushed her outside. She stumbled and fell.
‘It’s hardly any wonder your mother wants to kill herself. I hope you’re pleased with yourself.’
Kath gawked and the door slammed. Upstairs, the curtain moved. Jade’s face disappeared from view.
For days, Kath lived by her wits. She sneaked into her friend’s bedroom at night for shelter, and she was provided with a little food, but not enough to keep her sated. Her friend said she didn’t want to arouse any suspicion, which was understandable and probably for the best. The last thing Kath wanted was for her father to drag her home. More than likely, he would lock her in the house and that was not something she could to
lerate.
The days were the longest. Everyone she knew was at school, yet she didn’t see any point in attending. At the same time she didn’t want to risk being caught playing truant, so she stayed out of the city centre, away from cafés and the library, and loitered near her home. It was a monotonous time, and she longed for home comforts.
One day, she found herself observing her family home. Her father had departed for a job, and wouldn’t return for a few days, and Jade and her brothers were at school. Her mother was alone. It seemed like the ideal opportunity to go inside.
It was not easy generating enough courage, as her father’s accusation regarding her mother’s suicidal thoughts still reverberated through her head. Her mother was depressed, that much was true, but had it gone so far as to create suicidal thoughts? Kath wanted to believe her father had said it in a fit of temper, yet part of her refused to believe it. Unfortunately, it seemed to fit, and it was likely to be her fault. Kath could not deny she had a habit of upsetting people.
She slipped her hands into her pockets and started to walk away, determined not to cause her mother any more anguish. Yet something prevented her from leaving, and after striding a few steps down the street, she hurried back to the door. She didn’t stop to question why she was going inside, nor did she ring the bell.
It was quiet within, and in the air, there was an unsettling feel. The hairs on the back of her neck rose and butterflies danced in her stomach. Something was not quite right. Shouldn’t the television be on, or even the radio? And what about her mother’s movements? She couldn’t creep around her house at the best of times, given her arthritic joints, and even found something as mundane as coughing arduous. She said it rattled her bones, a curious comment.
With increasingly hurried steps, Kath progressed through the rooms. Her mother wasn’t anywhere to be found. She called out her name. Nothing. She checked in the kitchen to see if she had had breakfast, or made a drink. Nothing had been disturbed; there were no used cups by the sink and no crumbs on the surface.