by C R Martens
***
For weeks life was quiet and calm for mother and daughter. Autumn had really sunk its teeth in; it had been rainy and windy for weeks. Eve was almost excited about being ill – if it wasn’t for the cough, the runny nose, the fever and the headache. As November came to an end, Eve and her mum seemed happy and all they had been through seemed like a distant nightmare. But when you are five, time is relative and it had only been a month and a half. One Saturday Eve was playing in the bedroom when the doorbell rang. Her mum went to the door.
“Eve put your slippers on or you’ll get cold.” She tossed the slippers to Eve who smiled and put them on. Eve’s mum buzzed the door open and went back to the kitchen. A few seconds later there was a knock on the door, Eve stood in the doorway of the bedroom to see who it was as her mum went to open it. A shock went through Eve when she saw who it was. John was standing there in a shirt and tie, with flowers. His head was bowed slightly so as to make him seem sad and remorseful, he was making puppy eyes at Eve’s mum. Eyes, Eve knew all too well, which were the same as all the other times he had apologised. Eve took a step back into the room.
“Can we please talk?” John asked. Her mum hesitated. “Please, it won’t take long,” he insisted, trying to nudge his way into the flat.
“Okay,” she said giving way. She pointed towards the living room to the left. Eve started to walk after her mum, but John stopped her. “No, your mum and I need to talk. You go play,” he said, his eyes evil and empty.
“It’s fine, darling,” Mum said with a soft smile. Eve hadn’t seen him since the day they ran away. “Go play, it won’t take a moment.” John closed the door after them, but Eve didn’t go and play. She stood by the door, ear pressed hard against it.
“Had I known it was you, I wouldn’t have let you in,” her mum started.
“Then I am glad you didn’t ask,” John said. “Wait, were you expecting someone else?” His tone of voice changed slightly, jealous.
“What? No,” she said. “I thought it was the post.” Eve heard footsteps and took a few steps back, and then things went quiet again. She tiptoed back to the door, but this time she looked through the keyhole.
“After last time, I went into a program,” he said, handing the flowers to her mum. “And I don’t drink as much anymore, that’s why I did what I did. And after my ex-wife I didn’t trust anyone. You know how she was with me.” He started acting more and more like the wounded man. In fact, it wasn’t really his fault at all. Eve’s mum just stood there listening as John went on and on about his ‘stupid ex-wife’. He sat down on the sofa, elbows on knees and head in hands. He pushed his hair back and looked up at her, he got on his knees and crawled towards her. He hugged her body, pressing his head against her stomach. “I will never, ever hurt you again,” he said. “That’s a promise. I’ll go to a psychiatrist, I’ll do anything to get you back.”
Eve lost her breath and heard her heart pounding in her ears; time slowed right down. She floated out of her body and saw herself run into the room and pull her mum away from his grip, but unfortunately, she never moved an inch. She just stood there as her mum agreed to give it another chance. Eve backed silently into the bedroom, took her teddy bear and hugged it tightly. By the end of the following week, they had moved back into the yellow brick house.
But, contrary to Eve’s expectations, things had changed. There was no loud music blaring into the early hours of the morning, no screaming or shouting, and, best and most importantly, there was no abuse of Eve’s mum. Had John really changed?
***
It was a cold winter day when John, Ruth and Eve drove the hour-long drive to John’s summer house. They had been back for almost two months. Eve was seated in the back seat with Trip next to her, she didn’t feel well, John was smoking in the car, which made Eve carsick. She sat there trying to look out of the window as her mum had told her to do many times before when she had been carsick.
“Mum, I don’t feel well,” Eve said.
“Can we pull over?” her mum asked John.
“No,” he said absentmindedly. Her mum sighed and turned around in the front seat to check on Eve, but before she could react Eve threw up all over the car. In a fit of fury, John yanked the steering wheel to make it off the motorway exit they were about to pass. “You had better not vomit on my bag,” he shouted.
“Well you didn’t want to pull over when I asked you to, so what did you think would happen?” Ruth shouted back. John parked the car by the roadside just off the motorway. He got out and slammed the door shut. “It’s because you are smoking,” Eve’s mum continued.
“Don’t tell me I can’t smoke in my own car,” he hissed at her.
“Don’t get angry with her for something she had no control over,” she hissed back over the roof of the car before opening the door for Eve.
“I couldn’t stop.” Eve cried a little, mostly because of the discomfort of throwing up, but also a little out of fright for John. As Ruth began to clean up the car, Eve stood as close to her as possible; she didn’t want to get too close to John. He shook his head and made angry sounds the entire time.
“It stinks in here,” John exclaimed, throwing his cigarettes in the glove compartment. “Look what you have done to my car. It’s disgusting,” he said angrily to Eve. He looked at the frightened, teary-eyed girl and then he laughed his vicious laugh as if trying to make it funny. It wasn’t. The entire day was filled with tension, the silence was palpable and John hardly spoke to Eve or her mum.
The next morning it had snowed and while John had been out with friends, Eve and Ruth had spent the day in the snow having a brief moment of calm. Trip had been so funny, the way he had tried to catch the snowballs, it had all been so easy without John there that morning and afternoon. Exhausted, Eve had nearly fallen asleep at the dinner table if it hadn’t been for John talking a little too loud. Eve didn’t think of it though. That night Eve was fast asleep in her bed.
Eve felt like she was far away when the music suddenly started with a blast. It was so loud that Eve sat right up in her bed and looked around confused. The music was coming from the living room, and then she heard it. The sound was faint, dulled down by the music. The summer house was small so the music had to be really loud to cover up any other sounds. She started to feel her heart ache and beat faster and then there was a big crash and the music jumped. “Arghhh, please.” Her mum sounded muffled. Without thinking, Eve jumped out of bed and ran to the door and into the living room where she found John with his knee in her mum’s back while pulling back her head by her hair.
“STOP IT!” Eve screamed. “DON’T HURT MY MUM!” Finally, John let go. He was drunk, so drunk he lost his balance and stumbled back when he let go of Ruth. Eve ran over to her mum and threw her hands around her neck, using her little body to shield her mum from John. He didn’t do or say anything else, he just slithered cowardly into their bedroom.
“Are you okay, mummy?” Eve asked, cupping her mum’s face with her little hands.
“I am now,” she said and held Eve tight in a huge hug. They sat on the floor catching their breaths until they finally retreated to Eve’s room. That was the first night in a long time that Eve had her nightmare again, but this time her mum was there to comfort her and rocked her back to sleep.
The next morning Eve woke to a new commotion, but this time it was coming from the kitchen. When Eve’s mum sat up in the other bed, Eve was relieved. They both put on their robes and walked out of the room, Eve behind her mum. John was standing in the kitchen, cooking breakfast. He turned around and smiled at Eve’s mum. Eve started to realise that everything that had happened over the past three months had all been fake, none of it real, just John’s elaborate scheme to get her mother back.
“I have already booked a session with the psychiatrist,” John said as he put the finishing touches on the breakfast table. “In fact, I should go now so I can make the appointment.” He hurried past Eve and Ruth out into the hallway, where he
started to put on his coat.
“Please be here when I come back,” he said, biting his lip and bowing his head in remorse. “I would hate if you weren’t. Please eat, breakfast is for you.” He never even glanced at Eve when he talked to her mum; to him, Eve didn’t exist. He was back to his old self.
He took his briefcase and went out the door leaving them in the summerhouse. The second Eve heard the car leave the driveway, she ran to her room and started to pack. Eve’s mum came in and stopped her.
“Let’s just have breakfast and then we can go down to the beach,” she said. Eve didn’t know what she meant by that – weren’t they leaving? Eve sat down to eat, her mum buttered a piece of toast and put jam on another, put them on a plate and placed it in front of Eve. Then she poured herself a cup of coffee and a glass of milk for Eve. She took a sip of coffee. “I’ll go get myself ready,” Ruth said and left Eve sitting alone in the kitchen. Eve understood nothing, she took a bite of the buttered toast and looked around. Then she realised they really weren’t going anywhere.
They went on as normal as if nothing had happened; they spent the day quietly watching TV and by the time John had returned to the summerhouse, Eve had already gone to bed. The next morning they all drove back to the city, dropping Eve off at nursery on the way. Eve put her bag in the wardrobe and sat on the little bench in front of her hanger. She started to kick off her shoes when her mum came over. “Let me help you,” she said. She took Eve’s shoes and placed them on the shelf behind Eve.
“Let’s not tell anyone about what happened this weekend, okay?” she said to Eve. She kissed Eve on the cheek, smiled and said goodbye. Eve sat by her wardrobe for a little while, until the childcare worker, Karen, came over to her.
“Are you okay, Eve?” Karen asked. Eve nodded. “Do you want to go play or maybe we can read a book?” Eve’s face grew a little happier, not that she had forgotten anything, but because she loved books. She loved that she could escape to somewhere different. Maybe even be someone else. She took Karen’s hand and walked into the reading nook and together they disappeared into Peter Pan. At nursery, Eve felt safe, she didn’t have to worry there. But her worries reappeared when parents started to pick up their children, she knew it wouldn’t be long before she too would have to leave and go back to the yellow-brick house. But why should she care? They would all play the part of being a happy little family, nothing to hide here. And so, they ate their dinner, talked of nothing important and went to bed like they did every night. They did what they did best, they played pretend. So, Eve listened and learnt, she silently studied their behaviour and read their faces. And without knowing it, everything that happened to her in those early years began to shape her for what she would become.
4.
I hate that I didn’t scream, scream for help, scream at the top of my lungs, “I am not okay!” I just did what was expected, stayed quiet and withdrew into myself. I locked everything away in a box. A tiny box in the back of my mind. A tiny box that just waited to implode and tear me down. My little box of self-destruction.
The brutal reality of daylight was always a sure thing. You couldn’t hide there. Every day became a struggle, even the good ones because even they would have an end and you never knew how the next day would be. Eve grew more and more, as children do, but not the way she should have grown. She learnt to be wary of her surroundings and suspicious of everything and anyone. She learnt to read faces, body language and situations, she knew when it was time to leave even in the middle of the night. She hid spare toys and shoes in places by routes of escape so she didn’t have to leave in her slippers again. By June 1990, mother and daughter had left three times and returned again since. This time surely would be the final time.
Ruth had grown too; she had grown stronger with every attack and one time John was too drunk to keep his hold. She pushed him away and shouted, “Run, Eve!” And Eve ran down the stairs, grabbed her little suitcase with toys and then put on her shoes just as her mum came down. They didn’t speak to each other, they knew the routine. Eve held her mum’s hand tight as they ran out of the door towards their car. By now, Eve’s mum knew to always park on the curb so John couldn’t box them in, in the driveway. Just as they flew past the front doorsteps, John came crashing out. Eve cried out in fright and started to cry, the shock echoing in her little body. Grabbing Eve in her arms, Ruth ran to the unlocked car and scrambled into the car’s front seat, locking the doors just as John reached the car. He banged on the passenger door and pulled the door handle violently. Eve sat crying frantically while holding her hands over her ears. “Shit.” Eve’s mum dropped the car keys.
“Mummy!” Eve shouted as John crashed against the door again. “He’s going to get us.”
“No, no,” she replied, her hands fumbling around on the floor of the car. “No, he won’t.”
“Mummy, I’m scared.” Her cry was panic-stricken. The entire car was shaking every time John smashed himself up against it, this time half breaking off the side mirror.
“I know, I am going to get us out of here.” The banging on the car was getting ferocious and John was unrecognisable when finally, Eve’s mum found the keys. With pounding hearts and no seatbelts on, the car sped off the curb with a bump and they raced to their hideaway. Eve cried uncontrollably. Trying to pull in her breath, she could feel her chest jerk. The car came to a stop halfway between hell and heaven and Eve was comforted by her mum. They looked at each other and almost simultaneously they took a deep breath together, just as they had done many times before to calm down. Ruth clicked their seatbelts on and the two damaged souls drove quietly into the blurry night.
***
“So, do I just start where I left off last time?” Eve asked. They had already sat in silence for almost five minutes while the psychologist seemed far away, lost in his notes. If she was to make an educated guess, he had done nothing more than basic training at FIA. He probably had previous investigative experience but he was definitely new to undercover assignments.
“One minute.” He held up his finger in a rather annoying way as if hushing her. “Yes.”
“Yes to what?” she asked, agitated. “I don’t know where you have been for the last six minutes, but I have been sitting patiently here waiting for you to finish your homework.”
“That’s interesting,” he said with a smile.
“Is it, though? How? I am on time for our sessions and yet this seems to be a recurring issue. You sitting there politely ignoring me and deeply engaged in your papers. If you want me to take this seriously, I at least expect the same of you.”
“That’s fair,” he said in a serious, thoughtful manner. “I apologise for my rudeness. Whenever you are ready, you can just start off from where you left last time.”
Eve didn’t want to press the matter so she automatically continued. “We spent three weeks of that summer in that flat, three weeks of rest. Those would be the last three weeks in the flat before we went back to the yellow-brick house for good. Mum sold the flat. Goodbye, sanctuary. I really did try to believe Mum when she would say, ‘This time it really will be different, trust me.’ And just like all the other times, there was the honeymoon period, everything would be rosy-red and delightful. It had been a good summer holiday at the summerhouse. John had largely ignored me and vice versa. When we got back to the yellow-brick house, I was unpacking my things when Mum called, ‘Darling, can you come into the living room?’ Nothing wrong with that, I thought, so I walked in there and I found Mum and John sitting side by side on the sofa. Mum smiled, took my hand and said, ‘You are going to be a big sister.’ I stood still for a moment, not quite knowing what kind of emotion to call on. I looked at their faces, John’s told me nothing, but Mum’s was happy. So, I was happy.
“‘Is it a sister?’ I asked. That would be nice – to have someone to play dolls with and dress up.
“‘I hope not.’ John laughed, getting up from the sofa to fetch another drink.
“‘We don’t kn
ow what it is yet,’ my mum said, smiling at me. ‘But there will be a baby in February.’ I started counting the months on my fingers: August, September, October, November, December, January and then February.
“‘Seven months until the baby comes,’ I said, getting more excited at the prospect of someone to play with.
“‘Almost seven months,’ Mum corrected. ‘Are you excited?’
“‘Yes,’ I replied.
“‘Do you have anything you want to ask?’ I did. What happens if it’s a girl? Doesn’t he want a girl? What happens to me? But I didn’t dare ask those questions. I knew then why we had to stay in the yellow-brick house with John. Mum didn’t want to be a single mum of two. Besides, maybe a baby, maybe his baby would change things for good. Things did change a little. The violence stopped completely during the pregnancy, but the rage and threats remained and so did the drinking. But, for a while, the baby kept mum safe, just as she kept it safe.
“My nightmares remained the same, a hunted child desperate to escape a demon man. By then, the damage had been done; all that I had seen and heard had made irreversible marks on my growing mind. Eve, the talkative adventurous child, had been replaced with Eve, the quiet and cautious child. Even the good days were overrun by the sadness of the nights, screaming for my mum. The worst part was I had no one to turn to or talk to, I was all alone.
“The months seemed to fly by and then he came on February 16th 1991 – a baby boy. There was instant happiness, and for the first time in a long time, a crying child wasn’t a bad thing. In fact, the baby created a different kind of calm.