Pretenders. The

by Zaza, Agatha

  ‘Edmund, where you going?’ Jasper demanded, standing up and following his brother to the door, stopping inches from Ovidia. ‘Or is that also a big secret?’

  ‘Jasper — not now,’ Anne hissed.

  ‘You can’t just go,’ Jasper barked. Ovidia’s stomach coiled at the force of his voice. ‘No wait, you can. You can keep your whole life a secret from me. I’m just your brother.’

  Edmund still didn’t answer. For a moment she was afraid of him, the look in his eyes was unlike any emotion she’d ever seen him in.

  Ovidia gripped the door. She shut her eyes tightly, trying to shut out reality. She was not going to move, she declared silently.

  Edmund whispered gently, ‘Let’s go, let’s go now.’ She felt him prying her fingers loose from the door frame, still unable to open her eyes. He gripped her wrist much too hard; she winced.

  ‘Hey, you’re hurting her,’ Holly said, and Ovidia opened her eyes to Holly springing from her chair towards her. When Holly got to her, Ovidia brushed her hand away and looked at the others for help.

  John stood, but Ovidia saw Anne grab his hand and pull him down, shaking her head when he looked at her.

  ‘No, Edmund, don’t make me go. Please,’ Ovidia said her eyes still shut. ‘You go, I’ll stay here. I need to lie down.’

  ‘Ovidia, you promised,’ Edmund gently yet firmly guided her into the kitchen.

  ‘I can’t do this!’ Ovidia insisted, the sound of rising hysteria in her voice. She could hear her heart pounding, and she felt faint.

  ‘We agreed.’ Tense and determined, Edmund tightened his grip on her wrists seemingly oblivious to the pain he was causing.

  ‘No. You just want him out of the way so you can get rid of me.’ Looking Edmund in the eye, she resorted to that desperate accusation.

  ‘You know that’s a lie,’ Edmund replied, looking hurt, his grip tightening on her arms.

  Ovidia yelped at the pain. Edmund had never hurt her before.

  ‘Leave her alone!’ John barked. Pushing past Anne, he darted forward and pulled Ovidia away. Edmund relinquished his grip without contest. Holly stood behind them, her hand over her mouth.

  Ovidia’s heart sank as she watched Edmund stare down at his hands. Ovidia saw then that they were bruised and scabbed from having demolished the playhouse early that morning. For the first time, she understood how unhappy he must have been.

  ‘I’m sorry, Ovidia.’ His voice came in a whisper. ‘But, we have to go now.’

  ‘Is this what he does to you? Is this why it’s a big secret?’ Jasper, who hadn’t moved when John had intervened, said.

  ‘It’s not at all what you think,’ Ovidia replied. She could see the assumption on his face and was offended that anyone could imagine that of Edmund. Taking Edmund’s hand, she nodded, and the two of them began what seemed to her an interminable trek to the front door and to the taxi waiting outside.

  32

  ‘Are we just going to let them leave? He might hurt her again,’ John asked as Ovidia and Edmund walked slowly up the stairs to the front door.

  Holly was shocked by her own inaction and that of those around her. The way Edmund had tried to drag Ovidia out had frightened her. She felt ashamed that she had not done anything. At least John had tried. It was only when John had pursued Edmund and Ovidia into the kitchen followed by Jasper, did she follow, too.

  ‘Ovidia,’ Jasper had said, as Edmund and Ovidia started out toward the taxi. ‘Didn’t I mean anything to you at all?’

  Holly’s heart had immediately begun to race, pulsating, sending blood much too fast to her head. In an instant, she was dazed and nauseated, tension building in her gut about to explode — she was confused.

  Neither Ovidia nor Edmund had reacted, continuing their journey with Edmund steering them away, perhaps a little faster, disappearing, and a door closing behind them.

  Holly could feel herself breathing heavily, quickly. She’d been unable to speak as they left, myriad explanations hurtled around her head, each more ridiculous than the last.

  But now she had found her words. ‘What did you mean — “mean anything to you”?’ She put a hand on her chest, but the feel of her heart racing frightened her, and she let her hand drop.

  Jasper didn’t reply. His gaze was fixed on the now empty corridor that Edmund and Ovidia had travelled down.

  ‘What did you mean?’ Holly repeated louder, in case he hadn’t heard her the first time, though she was sure he had.

  ‘You and Ovidia?’ John asked.

  Holly didn’t want her suspicions confirmed by John. She wanted Jasper to say it aloud, so she could hear it from him.

  Jasper remained frozen, looking down an empty corridor.

  ‘You and Ovidia?’ Holly echoed, her face contorting with emotion. ‘The woman with Edmund?’ She pointed in the direction that Edmund and Ovidia had walked, as if it could have been any other Ovidia.

  Jasper exhaled, a loud puff of air. To Holly, in lieu of words, it told her that he and Ovidia knew each other. That morning and afternoon, she realised, had been spent in the company of the woman who was responsible for the condition Jasper had been in when she first met him. Ovidia was the woman for whom he’d pined until he had nearly wasted away — physically and emotionally.

  Everyone was silent and waiting for an explanation. Anne’s mouth was open, her hands clenched. John’s hand was at his chin, rubbing it.

  ‘It was long before we met,’ Jasper said, his voice tremulous. ‘I haven’t seen her since then.’

  ‘For how long?’ Holly demanded, her chest heaving. ‘How long were you together?’

  ‘A while.’

  ‘It wasn’t a one-night stand, not a fling? You were properly together?’ Holly had to know, her overriding emotion was now that of utter humiliation. Her face reddened; she closed her eyes, feeling her skin burning. Holly stood clenching her jaw, her hands gripping the kitchen peninsula yet still feeling as if she would fall. She breathed in through her nose, filling her lungs, trying to tame the relentless lurching in her stomach.

  ‘Let’s go home,’ Holly said abruptly. No one replied. ‘I can’t stay here. It’s not like our being here was so important to them that couldn’t postpone wherever they were going.’

  Jasper and John looked at each other for approval.

  John shrugged. ‘I agree, absolutely.’

  Holly could see that Jasper was relieved. Had he expected her to scream or to make a scene?

  ‘Yes, let’s forget about Edmund. His little brother tells him he’s getting married and he runs off.’ He pulled her towards to him and, with his arm around her waist, kissed her on her ear.

  Holly flinched. ‘My bag’s in the cube thing.’ She pulled away from him. Jasper with Ovidia explained everything: the strained atmosphere, Jasper’s relentless fidgeting, his brother’s defiant attitude — Edmund hadn’t been ill or preoccupied; he’d been, what, ashamed?

  Jasper kept a hold of her hand. ‘I’m sorry. I should have had the courage to leave earlier.’

  His words sounded flat to Holly, as if he was just saying it to pacify her. She shook her hand free of his.

  She walked briskly into the annex. Once outside, she picked up her bag and clutched it, squeezing it to her chest, fighting back tears. Her worst suspicions were confirmed. He wasn’t over her, the woman that broke his heart. It was a subject they never discussed. Not even once had they talked about the cause of the pain that even now occasionally made him sink into bouts of unhappiness that lasted hours and sometimes days. In the worst of times, a whole day would pass in which they hadn’t spoken to each other, and she’d scrape uneaten food into the bins, and, in the bathroom, she’d catch the lingering odour of vomit.

  She’d wanted so many times to confront him about how he wasn’t doing anything to deal with the fugue he often fell into. But she told herself that John was a therapist and Jasper’s friend, so surely John was helping him resolve it.

  Holly told herself that ‘
this’ (she still wasn’t sure what it was) was such a small part of their feelings for each other that they could afford to overlook it. She repeated over and over again that time would take care of them, that the past would get further and further away until it was insignificant.

  ‘You and I have a lot to talk about,’ John was saying, as she walked back into the kitchen. ‘Of course, now’s not the time — but, shit, why didn’t you say something? Your brother’s with your …’ He stopped.

  Jasper was silent.

  ‘You’ve been lying all day,’ John said, as if reluctant to end the conversation. He scratched his head and went to where Anne stood and took hold of a corner of her blouse.

  ‘Shall we go?’ Holly asked. That was all she wanted to do now, escape, to leave Edmund and Ovidia and their silly, tasteless mansion. She glanced around — strange how the house now looked absolutely soulless.

  ‘Yes,’ John nodded and then shook his head. ‘I want to get out of here, too, but I still don’t feel right about just leaving. Edmund was being pretty rough with her. I’m worried he might do something.’

  ‘She doesn’t need us to worry about her,’ Jasper said, his teeth gritted.

  ‘Really? I see women in trouble every week, women whose husbands are unstable, on edge,’ John insisted. ‘All it takes is the right provocation, and he could really hurt her. Jasper, can’t you call them or something?’

  ‘I don’t want to call my ex-girlfriend,’ Jasper insisted loudly, his voice raspy. ‘Look, I don’t know what all this is about. I don’t understand this suburban mansion business, the kitchen extension, the Nordic garden set. Edmund never told me that he and my ex were playing house.’

  Holly felt a little better. Jasper just hadn’t known what to do. He hadn’t deliberately tried to deceive her.

  He took a few slow steps to one of the barstools, where he sat heavily as if defeated, weighted down. ‘I don’t know where he is or what he’s going to do to Ovidia. And I don’t think she’s my responsibility. So, Holly’s right, let’s get out of here.’ He slid off the seat and quickly backed away from the others, towards the front door, but stopped. Holly took a few steps towards him, following.

  ‘I mean look at this … all this. You know Edmund,’ his eyes appealing to John, ‘does any of this look like him to you? This guy goes to coffee competitions for Christ’s sake. What are our parents going to say when they find out? Am I supposed to join in, keep it all secret for him?’ Jasper stopped and planted his hands in his pockets. ‘Coming here was such a stupid idea. Let’s find a fucking pub and celebrate my engagement.’

  Holly nodded, she reached for him. He looked on the point of tears; she didn’t want him to cry, not the day after their engagement. Today was meant to be one of the happiest days of their lives. She scolded herself, but only briefly, at how quickly her anger at him had receded.

  Anne spoke so quietly that Holly could barely hear her. ‘You really should stay and wait for Edmund. He needs you.’

  ‘Needs me for what?’ Jasper sneered, moving before Holly could touch him. ‘What on earth does he need me for? He has his own enormous slice of the suburban dream.’

  ‘They have a little boy,’ Anne said. ‘And he’s not well.’

  There was silence.

  ‘He’s dying.’ She finished and looked at Jasper.

  33

  ‘It’s not a situation I ever imagined finding myself in.’ Jasper was explaining the truth about Ovidia to John. They sat in the extension, the door closed between them and Anne and Holly, who were in the kitchen. He could hear snatches of the sounds of their cleaning and putting things away.

  ‘And now,’ he leaned back into the armchair Edmund had been sitting in, ‘I’m trapped in her house.’

  John hadn’t asked, but Jasper felt compelled to tell him. Jasper had decided to stay, felt he had to be there for his brother. He’d thought a little about his relationship with Holly, sure it would be over, but Ovidia dominated his thoughts. He didn’t want to call Edmund. The truth, if he heard it now, might be too brutal for him to stand. Yet his gut churned with a desire to find out about the child.

  Anne couldn’t tell him what he needed to know. It was a baby boy, she repeated; she didn’t know what was wrong with him. Her eyes met Jasper’s. No, she didn’t know why they had to leave just then. Her gaze averted, flickered toward the back wall, where there was nothing to be seen.

  The easiest thing, Jasper decided, was to be here when Ovidia and Edmund returned. He went out into the cube and sat down, feeling entombed.

  Holly had refused to leave without Jasper when he’d suggested she, John, and Anne leave, so she stayed, her face telling him she was unhappy. It was John who’d suggested they divide in two to clean up. Everyone agreed, and Jasper was, in a way, glad that he hadn’t been left alone with his thoughts in his brother’s house.

  ‘You could have hinted, given some kind of sign or just said “let’s get out of here”,’ John said gently.

  ‘I couldn’t. I had to …’ Jasper paused, not being able to put in words the conflicting emotions he’d been experiencing since that morning. ‘I had to know. It was as if I was dreaming or hallucinating. If I left, I’d never have known if today really happened.’

  ‘Okay, so you couldn’t really think it through, I understand that,’ John said, his words came out clipped and taut. ‘But why have you never told me about Ovidia?’

  ‘Why are you so offended? It was before we met.’ Jasper’s first instinct was to circumvent the question.

  ‘This relationship was important to you. I can see that, and so can Holly. That’s two years — a gap — in your life that I know nothing about, that you deliberately have kept from me. You have never, ever, made any reference to her,’ John answered. ‘Why?’

  Jasper sat back in his chair and the fingers of one hand gripped the armrest.

  ‘Jas?’ John’s eyes met Jasper’s, his voice reassuring yet firm, a gentle demand. ‘Why?’

  ‘She used to hit me.’ He articulated his words slowly. It was the first time he’d ever told anyone outright. He’d never even told Edmund, though he now knew his brother had guessed.

  John shuddered, a brief, involuntary movement. ‘She physically abused you?’ he asked, leaning further forward, disbelief visible in his wide eyes.

  ‘I saw that,’ Jasper said, referring to that momentary expression of revulsion. ‘You responded like that — and you’re a professional.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ John apologised, looking contrite. ‘That was the very last thing I expected you to say.’ John massaged his forehead with his knuckles. ‘And yes, for a second there I didn’t believe you. Shit, I’m sorry.’ He apologised again and paused, the ball of his thumb between his teeth. ‘You’re my friend, and I didn’t believe you. So, you’re right to not have told me. I did exactly what you were afraid I’d do.’

  ‘I sat in a room once, nine guys in some church hall, and that’s what they all said — no one ever believes you. I don’t get it, though. It was so obvious. I wondered how the whole world hadn’t noticed. I couldn’t go to the gym, go swimming, take my shirt off on a hot day. I couldn’t look people in the eye when they asked how I was,’ Jasper explained. ‘I’ve asked myself so many times, what it was about me that she saw as a target. I still don’t know. I’m from a happy home, I have loving parents, a job and an education — but somehow, she saw a huge sign over my head saying “please, kick me”.’

  Jasper continued, after pausing to catch his breath. ‘It was as if, somewhere along the way, Ovidia decided she was going to kill me. And, apparently, she would have, if Edmund hadn’t stopped her,’ he added bitterly. ‘I found that out today, too.’ He paused again. ‘Then you meet a great guy and his wife — they become your best friends, so when and how do you tell them? “Hi John, hi Anne, lovely summer we’re having — by the way, I was a victim of repeated and sustained intimate partner violence for two years. Do you still like me? Have you lost all respect for me? Have I
become an anecdote you tell your friends?” When is the right time to say that?’

  ‘Two years?’ John asked quietly, in a firm but reassuring voice to which his clients were drawn, comforted and inspired.

  ‘More like two lifetimes. It didn’t start right away, of course. At first, our relationship was a dream — well, I thought it was. Later, I was sure the only way to leave was to kill myself. I couldn’t see any other way to get away.’

  ‘And then she left you?’

  ‘Literally. Ran down the road. Never saw her again until today.’ Jasper slumped back in the seat, fighting back tears, looking up at the sky through the glass roof. With Edmund, he’d only talked about what came after the abuse — depression, loneliness, sadness. He’d never really spoken about his abusive relationship with Ovidia to anyone so openly. He’d sat in that room, a support group for male victims of domestic violence and not said a word. He’d taken a place in a circle of fabric-upholstered metal conference chairs in a brightly lit, century-old room. There’d been a draught that had relentlessly assaulted his ankles, giving him something to divert his attention to when he felt the need to cry. Some men had. As he’d watched them sobbing, shoulders shuddering, their words choked back or abandoned, he realised that, even in that room that was meant to be safe, in a group created for them to speak, every single man was fighting to hide the expression of their pain. The men battled against their tears, they battened down their words, they hoisted shame onto their own shoulders and carried it until they cracked. Breaking down in elevators, in locked bathrooms, garages, and emergency rooms.

  As he left, Jasper had picked up a brochure. He’d learned the terminology and why he shouldn’t suffer in silence. He’d nodded to the other men as they left, watching them pat each other on the back and make plans to meet for a drink. He’d never returned.

  ‘It’s nothing to be ashamed of,’ John said.

  ‘Of course it’s something to be ashamed of. I’m weak. I’m stupid. I allowed myself to be sucked into hell thinking I was in love. I let her reduce me to absolutely nothing. It’s been five years and still I fly into a panic at the sound of a book slamming shut.’ Jasper’s eyes were wet. He closed them and cleared his throat, and then opened his eyes again.