The Woman at 72 Derry Lane

by Carmel Harrington

  She pulled her mother’s cardigan out of her wardrobe once more and pulled it around her, falling to the ground. She rocked back and forth, crying with shame for the mess she’d gotten herself into.

  Chapter 13

  STELLA

  ‘You’d better come inside.’ Rea looked at Stella standing in her doorway, the poise and composure that was normally in place crumbling with gratitude. Her vulnerability made parts of Rea ache.

  ‘Thank you.’ Stella stepped inside and Rea closed the door behind them.

  ‘Oh, what a beautiful hallway,’ Stella remarked, as she looked around her. The hall floor had original flagstones in black and white, the walls were painted a pristine white and when she looked up to the high ceilings, the original architraving and cornicing was in pristine condition. ‘So many of the original features in our house next door have been tampered with over the years, it’s incredible to see yours intact. Just stunning.’

  ‘It’s nice to see it appreciated,’ Rea replied, genuinely flattered by her words. ‘I’ve lived in this house my whole life. As have two generations before me. So we’ve managed to keep it as it was when it was built. This house is a bit like an extra member of the Brady family.’

  ‘There’s a lovely feel in here. I can sense there was a lot of love in this house. What a beautiful home to grow up in.’

  Stella thought about her own childhood home. There was a lot of love there too. Once upon another time, she had been lucky. She had known love. But she also knew that she’d never get the chance to go back and sit at her mother’s kitchen table again. That version of her childhood home was long since gone to her, with all in it.

  ‘Yes, I am lucky. I daresay I’ll be the last of the line to live here, though,’ Rea said.

  ‘That’s such a pity,’ Stella sympathised.

  ‘It’s life,’ Rea replied, gruffer than she intended to. She hated to think about this house being sold to a stranger. She knew what they’d do. They’d tear down walls, creating big open-plan spaces that had no business in a house like this. She liked her rooms defined. Why everyone felt the need to share everything these days she’d never understand. From social media to living spaces. All on display for the world to see. It was too much.

  Stella ran her hand along the picture rail in the inner hallway, admiring the yellow wallpaper that hung above it.

  Rea couldn’t wait to see her reaction to her front reception room. She proudly led her into the large, highceiling room. She opened the curtains quickly and the beautiful room was transformed as the light flooded in and brought it to life.

  ‘Oh Rea, how beautiful.’

  Rea said, ‘My parents always brought their visitors into this, the “good” room. Whether it was the parish priest calling for tea or great aunts and uncles visiting from the country, they’d all be brought here.’

  George and she had continued this tradition. As she always said, no matter the state of the rest of the house, if you had one good room, you were sorted for any surprise visitors.

  ‘Well, I’m honoured to be in your good room,’ Stella said, smiling, and then took a seat, perching on the edge of the sofa. This was partly because her back and thighs were still bruised and partly because she was so nervous. Coming here was a huge deal, but when she’d brought that package around the other day, there was something familiar about Mrs Brady, though they’d barely spoken two words to each other before. Stella couldn’t quite put her finger on it but she just knew instinctively her gruff neighbour was someone she could turn to and trust.

  That didn’t stop her from having the feeling she was about to jump off a high precipice into the great unknown. The hidden dangers lurking in the dark made Stella shiver.

  But she couldn’t stay on this cliff’s edge one more moment. She realised that if she didn’t find the courage to leave, if she didn’t find a way to do it, she might find herself pregnant and trapped forever. Or, worse still, her children would live their lives in constant danger. Matt’s mood swings came fast and frequent and he was losing control of his rage. The good part of Matt, the part that she fell in love with, no longer seemed to exist. Hyde had won.

  When he had left for work this morning, she’d spent hours pacing her polished hardwood floors, planning, plotting. How she could leave was the hard bit. He had worked hard over the past year to cut her off from everything. She had no family and no money of her own, aside from their joint account. While running out the door sounded like a very fine plan, she would need a few things in place first of all.

  When she had woken up this morning, she was alone. A note from Matt told her that he’d already left for the office. She’d showered and dressed slowly, taking her coffee out to the garden. She watched the trees from next door that had grown like weeds over the past couple of weeks tumble over their side of the wall. Matt was furious about the state of Mrs Brady’s garden, often ranting about it the odd time he ventured out back.

  ‘Lazy old bat, she should be ashamed of herself. It’s bringing down the price of houses on this road,’ he spat.

  ‘We don’t know her situation; maybe she isn’t able to garden any more. Who knows what goes on behind closed doors?’ Stella replied.

  Matt looked at her quickly, to see if she was having a dig, so Stella smiled at him sweetly, thinking, ‘to hell with you, you judgemental bastard’. He might control her every move, but he would never control her thoughts.

  That’s my girl, her mam cheered. That’s my girl.

  Looking at the trees, Stella thought that maybe next door was her answer. Her gut, her every instinct told her that despite the gruff exterior, Rea was a good person. It had to be her who called the Gardaí each time. That showed she cared, didn’t it? She said to call around for a cup of tea and a chat. It seemed like a very definite thing to ask. She wanted to help her. She was sure of it.

  So before she had a chance to talk herself out of it, she found herself knocking on her neighbour’s door.

  ‘I was surprised to see you,’ Rea said. ‘A nice surprise, I might add, but one I wasn’t expecting.’

  Rea looked at Stella closely, taking in how agitated she seemed, her hands wringing in her lap. ‘You have a look of someone with something on her mind. Spit it out.’

  Stella nodded, then cleared her throat. ‘Can I be frank with you?’

  ‘I’d rather that. I’ve little or no patience for anyone who beats about the bush.’

  Stella smiled, warming even more to this woman; while she was what many would call brusque, her eyes were kind. ‘I should have practised what to say. Sometimes finding the right words is difficult.’

  ‘When you get to my age, that’s something that comes with the territory,’ Rea smiled.

  ‘Oh, I doubt that. You’re not so old.’

  Rea smiled at the compliment.

  ‘First of all, please don’t be offended by this question, but I need to ask it all the same,’ Stella said, leaning in.

  Rea brushed aside her apology, ‘You don’t know me, so I would think you have more questions than answers.’

  Somehow even before she spoke, she knew the answer, ‘Can I trust you? I need to be sure that you won’t repeat this conversation to anyone.’

  ‘When you say anyone, I assume you mean your husband. I’m not to say anything to him?’

  ‘Yes, I suppose that’s it in a nutshell,’ Stella nodded.

  ‘You can say what you like here. Think of it as a confessional.’

  ‘I gave up believing in God a long time ago,’ Stella replied.

  ‘I’ve a pretty up and down relationship with her myself too.’

  ‘Her?’

  ‘Why not?’ Rea said.

  Stella smiled, thinking that she liked that idea a lot and liked Rea even more.

  ‘Well, leaving God and confessionals aside, would you take my word for it, that you can trust me?’ Rea asked.

  Stella felt her shoulders sag with relief, nodding. Her heartbeat accelerated so rapidly she thought it woul
d jump out of her chest and bounce clear across the floor, right out the door.

  ‘I wondered if it was you who called the Gardaí last week,’ Stella remarked.

  Rea hesitated. But then thought, sod it, in for a penny, in for a pound, as her George would say. She nodded, ‘It was. And I don’t regret it either.’

  ‘Thank you. I’m ever so grateful.’

  ‘No thanks needed,’ Rea exhaled.

  ‘But there is every need. You don’t know how much it meant to know that someone cared enough to make a call, not to give up, despite the fact that it may appear that I’ve perhaps given up on myself.’

  ‘I won’t lie, I have wondered about that. You always send the Gardaí away.’

  ‘Yes.’ Stella’s face flushed with embarrassment.

  ‘I nearly didn’t phone them. I mean, I’ve called them four times this year already for you. Each time, I’ve watched them leave. Nothing changed. He’s still there, abusing you, behind closed doors.’

  ‘What changed your mind?’ Stella asked.

  ‘I’ve always been tenacious. I don’t give up on things, even on those that might seem like a lost cause.’ Rea flushed as she realised the irony of those words. She gave up on herself, on her family, didn’t she?

  Stella winced at Rea’s description. A lost cause. But she supposed she must seem that way to her and, in truth, that’s what she was.

  Rea continued, ‘And I suppose I’ve been worried about you. It’s hard to sit back and ignore the sounds that creep over the garden wall and in through my window. And that night, well, I was terrified that he’d …’ Rea couldn’t finish the sentence.

  Stella shivered and her side ached as her body gave further resonance to Rea’s statement. She said, ‘I need you to know that I am grateful. And I know you think I’m crazy that I sent the Gardaí away, but you see, it’s quite complicated.’ Stella looked away.

  She had become a walking cliché, the battered wife saying it’s complicated. Next she’d be saying he only hit her because he loved her.

  ‘I’ve no doubt that it’s all kinds of complicated. And I know that we’re all told that relationships are worth fighting for. But that doesn’t mean that you should let your marriage become your own version of Fight Club.’

  Stella looked at her in surprise.

  ‘There’s a line in that movie I love and hate. “This is your life and it’s ending one moment at a time”,’ Rea said.

  ‘Oh,’ Stella replied, lost for a better response.

  They sat in silence for a moment, then Stella asked, ‘You said you loved and hated that quote. Why?’

  ‘I love it because it’s a simple truth. I hate it because it’s my truth.’ Rea’s eyes blinked away tears and Stella felt hers do the same. This woman, who she didn’t really know, had summed up exactly how she felt. She felt understood without the need to explain. She felt connected to this woman.

  ‘There are people who could help, you know. Organisations. Refuges. If you ask me, he needs locking up.’ Rea tried hard not to seem judgemental. Was her voice too harsh, too critical? Probably. George always said she didn’t do a very good first impression. She appeared gruff and hard, when in truth she was soft and warm. She didn’t want to frighten the woman away, not when she was reaching out for help.

  ‘I want to leave him,’ Stella said.

  ‘Good for you.’ Rea had never been so glad to hear a statement in her whole life. Maybe this one had more about her after all.

  ‘I want to run so badly, to somewhere so far away that I never have to see his face ever again.’

  ‘Then why don’t you? He’s at work. You’re not chained to the house. Just pack a bag and go.’

  ‘He’s clever. He’s backed me into a corner. I don’t want to knee-jerk run and then end up in another corner. I need to sort some things out first.’

  ‘Like what?’ Rea asked.

  ‘I’ve got no money of my own. Everything is in his name. We have a joint account but I’ve no access to it. He has all the cards. He gives me money for groceries each week and that’s it. He monitors my calls, my email. My diet. He’s also got my passport.’

  ‘A control freak.’

  ‘Yes. With a temper if I don’t do as he wants,’ Stella sighed. ‘I don’t want anything of his. But I had money when I married him. Money that my family worked hard for. We didn’t have much and it doesn’t seem right that I leave without it.’

  ‘Okay, that I understand. But can’t you fight for that money, from a distance? Get a lawyer and let him do the dirty work for you.’

  ‘I could do that. And I will do if I have to. But to my reckoning, I’ve a few weeks to try and get a handle on things, before he …’

  Rea watched the girl before her tremble, unable to finish the statement. ‘Before he hits you again?’

  She nodded, looking so broken, lost and very alone that it made Rea’s stomach flip nervously for her.

  ‘Matt has told me over and over that I’m all alone without him, that I’d not last a moment on my own. He’s right about one of those things. I don’t intend to prove the second.’

  ‘You’ve got nobody?’ Rea asked. When Stella nodded, Rea felt something give deep inside of her. The girl’s face looked so sorrowful and bereft and she recognised how that felt.

  ‘I have family living in France. That’s where I’ll go,’ Stella shifted her weight slightly, wincing in pain as she did.

  ‘Do you need medical attention? Are you hurt?’ Rea was annoyed with herself. She should have asked that straight away.

  ‘It hurts a little, but nothing is broken.’ Stella lifted her white shirt and revealed a symphony of purple bruises on her St Tropez tanned skin. ‘Funnily enough I can take the physical pain easier than the pain of his words.’

  Rea noted that he had been careful to hit her between her neck and ankles. Not a mark on her face. What she wouldn’t do for a few minutes alone with him.

  ‘That bastard, how could a man do that to a woman, to anyone?’

  ‘He’s not a man when he loses his temper. He’s an animal. And each time he loses it with me, less of the man I married remains. I’m afraid that soon there’ll be none of him left.’ Stella took a deep breath and continued, ‘I know you don’t know me. I know that me landing on your doorstep is a terrible imposition. But I’m desperate. I don’t have anyone else to turn to.’

  It took Rea all of a nano second to reply. ‘Now stop that. I’m very happy you called in to me. What do you need? Because if it’s in my power to give it to you, it’s yours.’

  ‘Can I use your computer? I have one at home, but he monitors my use on it, checks my emails and transaction history. He’s got some kind of nanny spyware on it. I thought if I could use yours, I could set up a new email account and he’d never see what I’m up to.’

  ‘That’s a great idea. I have a fancy new MacBook Air. Arrived about a year ago from Luca, my son. He bought it for me so that we can FaceTime each other. I can’t make head nor tail of it. But it’s yours to use anytime you like.’

  So Rea wasn’t completely on her own as Stella had been led to believe. There was a son. ‘I can teach you how to use it. Would be the least I could do to say thanks. Also, would you mind if I had some post sent here? I’d have to use a different name, though, not my own.’

  ‘Oh you would, of course. If not you’d have poor Richie the postman all in a dither. In the meantime, what if he decides to use you as his punchbag again?’ Rea asked.

  ‘Then I leave as I am.’

  ‘Okay,’ Rea said.

  ‘I should get a few weeks’ reprieve, as he tries to win back my trust.’

  Stella, however, was long past the point of believing a single word he said. The only truth she needed to believe was the rage in his eyes when he hit her.

  Rea reached over to hold one of Stella’s hands between her own. ‘He seems to be losing his temper with you more frequently. The walls may be thick in these Victorian houses, but they are linked all the same
, so noise travels.… ’

  Stella felt her old friend shame come back to torment her. The embarrassment of knowing that the most horrific, dark, secret part of her life was silently witnessed by her neighbour was a difficult pill to swallow. ‘Yes, you’re right. He’s more Hyde than Jekyll now.’

  ‘You’ve got to get out of that house sooner rather than later. Do you hear me?’ Rea said, her voice rising in anger. ‘I firmly believe he’s going to kill you if you stay there.’

  There was a time when Stella would have disagreed with this. But things were different now. She didn’t plan on dithering. ‘I know. It’s hard when you are in the middle of it, to see a way out. He’s been chipping away at me for so long, I’ve forgotten who I am.’

  ‘Well then, that’s the first thing you have to work out. How to get back the Stella you were before he came into your life. As for being trapped, the only person who can hold you back, is you,’ Rea said.

  She stood up and walked to the door, saying, ‘I’d better make some tea. A large pot too. I think we’ll need it, to work through this mess. But work through it we will. Two heads are better than one.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Stella said, almost breathless with gratitude.

  Rea stopped at the doorway and said to her, ‘You were wrong about something else, you know. You’re not on your own. Not any more.’

  Chapter 14

  SKYE

  Patong Beach, Thailand, December 2004

  It was third time lucky, because we finally made it. Our dream holiday. Not Florida. Not a cruise. In the end, paradise for us lot was a month-long beach vacation in Thailand.

  We were on the south end of Patong Beach, on the island of Phuket. It was Christmas 2004, six years since we started that original fund, and had been disappointed many times, but all of that was worth it because the Madden family were finally here.

  We decided on an extra-long holiday, because Mam and Dad said it was a celebration of how proud they were of both Eli and I. He was already in college, doing architectural design, paying his tuition from the proceeds of his garden furniture sales. I like to think that all the slagging off I’d given him over the years, as he tinkered away with his designs, helped push him to be the best in his field. And he is, you know, the best. His furniture now graces the gardens of the rich and famous. It all started with Anne Doyle, her off the telly, the newsreader with the perfect blonde bob. ‘A fine woman, with a twinkle in her eye,’ Dad always said in appreciation when she lit up our TV screens. She came across one of Eli’s benches, fell in love with it and mentioned it on a radio interview she was doing with Ray D’Arcy.