A Time to Tell

by Maria Savva

  ‘She’d tell you the same. Anyway, I can look after myself, thank you very much.’

  ‘That’s cruel. I never understood why you and Mum couldn’t make up your differences, but I’m starting to see you’re probably the reason.’

  ‘Huh! That’s unfair,’ retorted Gloria.

  ‘Whatever happened between you was years ago, and Mum’s upset you no longer talk.’ Catherine knew that was untrue, but she prayed it would help to change her aunt’s mind.

  ‘Huh! I don’t believe that for a minute. It’s not a good idea, Catherine dear. It’s for the best. Your mother and I have never been able to see eye to eye. We’re as different as chalk and cheese. I can’t see how that is ever going to change. I’m sorry.’

  ‘Aunty, I’m not asking you to become best friends. Just let her stay with you until Penny and David sort out their problems.’

  ‘No, I’m afraid I can’t do that.’

  ‘Well, tough.’ Catherine sighed, no longer in the mood to be polite. ‘I’m bringing her to your house tomorrow.’ She hung up before Gloria could respond, astounded at how her mother’s only sister could refuse to help her in a time of need. What could have happened to cause such animosity? It’s like one of them murdered someone, she mused. Shuddering, she pushed the thought away.

  Tom came out of the kitchen, holding a mug. His eyes were distant.

  Catherine wondered whether he’d taken his antidepressants today. His memory had deteriorated recently and he often forgot to do things. His matted hair, which had long since grown out of any style, hadn’t been washed in weeks; instead of the usual strawberry-blond colour, it was a horrible dirty-brown. The stubble on his face resembled not so much a beard as a greying shadow. In the past he’d always been so clean-shaven, buying the latest razors and aftershaves. She noticed a large stain on the knee of his grey jogging pants and realised he’d been wearing the same pair for days. He didn’t even bother to change his clothes when he went to bed these days.

  As he walked towards her, Catherine’s eyes were drawn to their wedding photograph sitting on the mantelpiece behind him. His eyes had been so full of life and hope then, but now there were deep hollows and dark rings around them. He didn’t really look like himself anymore.

  She stared at the picture with longing in her heart: she wanted the old Tom back. How had things gone so wrong? She made up her mind to speak to his doctor again.

  ‘Tom?’ she said.

  ‘What?’ He scowled and then walked over to the sofa, turning his back on her.

  ‘I need you to watch the children. I’m going to see Mum.’

  ‘Whatever,’ he said, sitting on the sofa in front of the television. The screen was blank yet he sat there and stared at it. It had become a habit recently.

  ‘Shall I switch the TV on?’ she offered, picking up the remote control.

  He grabbed it from her. ‘I can switch it on if I want to,’ he blurted.

  She felt torn, not sure if leaving the children with Tom was the right thing to do, but worried about how stressed Penelope had sounded on the phone.

  Taking her handbag from the hook on the door, she made her way out of the flat.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Penelope knocked on Cara’s bedroom door at just after eight o’clock.

  ‘Hello, Penny.’ Cara smiled, feeling happy to see her granddaughter. It was rare for Penelope to visit her at this time in the evening.

  Cara lowered the volume on the television.

  ‘I know it’s a bit late, Nan, but Brenda from across the road has asked us over for a cup of tea. You remember Brenda, don’t you? We haven’t seen her for ages.’ Penelope shifted her stance from foot to foot as she spoke, in a nervous manner.

  Cara wondered why she hadn’t mentioned the visit earlier. Wrinkling her brow, she peered at her granddaughter. ‘Is everything all right, dear?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ Penelope laughed, but the laughter was out of place and this heightened Cara’s concern. ‘I just thought it would be nice for a change, to get out of the house.’

  Penelope walked over to the window and took a quick peek outside.

  ‘The boys are quiet; are they asleep?’ asked Cara.

  ‘No, they’re playing in their room.’

  ‘Are you sure you’re all right?’

  ‘Of course I am.’ Penelope laughed again, but it sounded forced. She opened Cara’s wardrobe and took out a dress. ‘Is this one okay for you to wear?’ she asked, holding it up in front of her.

  ‘Er… yes, dear.’

  ‘Good.’ Penelope placed the dress on the bed. ‘Can you manage to get ready on your own, while I see to the boys?’

  ‘Yes, of course, Penny.’ Cara frowned. ‘Where’s David? Is he downstairs?’

  ‘Um…’ A momentary hesitation. ‘No, he’s at work.’

  ‘This late in the evening?’

  ‘Yes, well, his job is very demanding. You might have noticed he’s not here half the time.’ Penelope fiddled with her wedding ring as she spoke.

  ‘I thought I heard him come home earlier.’

  ‘He did, but he’s gone back to work,’ Penelope murmured, walking towards the door. ‘I’ll just go and get the boys ready, then we’ll go.’

  As Cara watched her leave the room, she could not help thinking of Margaret. Penelope’s demeanour reminded her of Margaret whenever she’d turned up late at night, after yet another row with Benjamin, asking Cara and Billy if she could stay with them. Her eyes had that same faraway look, and she appeared terribly nervous.

  Penelope returned to the bedroom after a few minutes. ‘Are you ready to go, Nan?’

  ‘Er… yes, okay.’

  Walking over to the corner of the room, Penelope started setting up the wheelchair. ‘I’m going to be going away.’ She had her back to Cara as she spoke. ‘I don’t know how long for. A friend of mine has booked a holiday and has no one to go with her. She’d been planning to go with her boyfriend but they’ve split up.’

  ‘Oh, that’s a shame.’

  ‘So I’m having to arrange for you to stay with someone else while I’m away.’ Penelope glanced over her shoulder at her grandmother.

  ‘But what about the boys, won’t they have to miss school? And what about David? Is he going too?’

  ‘I’m taking the boys,’ Penelope said.

  ‘So where am I going?’ asked Cara.

  ‘Aunty Cathy’s meeting us at Brenda’s.’

  ‘What? Tonight? But it’s the anniversary of Billy’s death next Sunday,’ said Cara, ‘are we still going to visit the grave together?’

  Penelope did not respond immediately.

  When she turned around, Cara saw her eyes were red and wet with tears. ‘Penny! What’s wrong?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Please, come and sit down and tell me. What is it? Is it David or the boys? What’s happened?’

  ‘Nothing, Nan.’ She walked quickly towards the bedroom door and left the room.

  Cara cursed her legs when she heard Penelope going downstairs, wishing she could get out of bed and follow. She could feel her temperature rise as she became more and more anxious. Without thinking, she heard herself scream, ‘Penny!’ Her voice had a will of its own. There was no reply.

  She continued to shout her granddaughter’s name, not aware of how many times, but eventually she felt her strength wane. She took deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself.

  Listening intently for any movement in the house, she heard a shuffling sound coming from Penelope’s bedroom.

  Cara picked up the bell from the bedside cabinet—the bell she used when she needed to call Penelope. She rang it once and waited. After ringing it a second time, there was still no response. About to ring it a third time, she saw the bedroom door open slightly.

  Penelope walked into the room.

  ‘Nan… I lied earlier. Sorry.’ She caught Cara’s eye, then lowered her gaze. ‘I’m not going on holiday. I’m leaving for good.’

  Cara n
oticed that her granddaughter’s jaw hardly moved as she spoke, and she appeared to be having difficulty getting the words out. She looked so small and scared standing by the bedroom door; like a child.

  Cara was reminded of the twelve-year-old Penelope who had moved in with her; she had the same lost look in her eyes. Cara felt a desire to reach out and take her in her arms.

  ‘I’m leaving Dave,’ stated Penelope. ‘I’m taking the boys. We can’t stay here anymore, Nan. I’m sorry.’

  ‘Wh-what’s happened?’ Cara feared she already knew the answer.

  ‘It’s Dave… He’s dangerous.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘We’re leaving. The police are going to help me. I’m going to find somewhere safe for me and the kids.’

  All of Cara’s suspicions were confirmed. She opened her mouth to speak but could find no words.

  ‘I’m sorry, I wish I could take you with me, but it wouldn’t be fair.’ Penelope’s arms hung limply, her eyes threatening to spill the silent tears they held. ‘Aunty Cathy’s coming to collect you.’

  Penelope hung her head, then looked up at Cara. ‘I should explain.’ Closing her eyes, she continued, ‘Dave left the house after h-he punched me.’ She lifted her T-shirt to reveal a red mark, about five or six inches in diameter.

  Cara gasped.

  ‘He hits me a lot,’ admitted Penelope. ‘I didn’t tell you before because I didn’t want to worry you, but it’s gone too far. Tonight he hit Andrew.’

  ‘Dear God. I-is he all right?’ Cara placed a hand over her mouth.

  ‘Yes. Thank God. He’s never hit the boys before, Nan. That’s why I’ve made my mind up to leave. I can’t risk him doing it again. I called the police and they’re going to help me get into a women’s refuge.’ She spoke quickly, and her mood appeared to change from moment to moment; one minute she seemed relieved to be able to finally explain the pain to someone, the next she was straining to keep her composure as if she might crumble and fade away.

  Cara, feeling stunned, did not speak as Penelope helped her off the bed, into the wheelchair, and then onto the stairlift.

  Once Cara was back in the wheelchair, they left the house behind them, with all its secrets, and headed across the road to number forty, Furley Avenue.

  Brenda, a kind, elderly woman, lived alone with three cats, a small dog, and a large aquarium of exotic fish. She kept up to date with the gossip in the street as she made a point of visiting her neighbours regularly, invariably taking with her some home-made cakes. She was quite a large woman and wore brightly-coloured clothes. Her neatly styled hair was the colour of freshly settled snow. Brenda had become quite friendly with Penelope, and when Cara first moved in she’d made a point of getting to know her too. Brenda’s visits had been less frequent in recent years. Cara often saw her from the bedroom window, out and about on her daily shopping trips and knocking on various neighbours’ doors.

  Brenda greeted Cara and Penelope at her front door. ‘Please come in,’ she said politely, leading the way to the living room.

  Penelope pushed the wheelchair into the room and told Andrew and Carl to sit on the sofa.

  Tears welled in Cara’s eyes.

  ‘I’m going across the road to get your things, Nan; I won’t be long. Boys, behave yourselves.’ To Brenda, she said, ‘I’m going to leave Cara and the boys with you for a while. I have to go and pack our stuff. I won’t be long.’

  ‘Right you are, love.’

  Penelope hurried out of the door.

  ‘Shall I put the kettle on, Cara, and make us a nice cup of tea?’ asked Brenda.

  ‘Not for me, thank you,’ Cara replied.

  ‘Well, I’ll get some biscuits for the little ones. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, boys?’ She patted them both on the head, and they smiled at her.

  The boys were dressed in identical clothes. Penelope liked to dress them in matching clothes. Whenever she went shopping for the children she bought two of everything. Today they were dressed smartly in their khaki trousers, cream-coloured shirts, and denim jackets.

  ‘Please make yourselves at home,’ said the neighbour as she left the room.

  Cara surveyed the unfamiliar surroundings. She thought about the times she’d wished and prayed to leave Penelope’s house, but she’d wanted to get away before she knew anything for certain so she could fool herself that David and Penelope were happy together. It was too late for that now. She would have to live with this knowledge for ever.

  Cara looked at the boys sitting on the sofa. Noticing a bruise on Andrew’s forehead, she remembered Penelope telling her that David had hit him.

  Her eyes were drawn to the window; Penelope would be back soon with her belongings, and Catherine would arrive shortly to collect her. As she sat waiting, she could hear Brenda in the kitchen singing a joyful tune. Penelope had almost certainly not told the woman the real reason behind why she was leaving Cara and the children with her.

  Brenda entered the room carrying a cup of tea and a plate of biscuits.

  ‘They’re home-made, of course. I made them fresh today. Chocolate chip. They’re delicious, even if I do say so myself.’ She smiled and offered a biscuit to Cara.

  Cara took one to be polite, even though food was the last thing on her mind.

  After giving a biscuit to each of the boys, Brenda sat next to Cara. ‘I hear you’re leaving Furley Avenue,’ she said, as she placed the plate on the table in front of her.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘That’s a shame, I’ll miss Penny; she always had time for a chat when I saw her on the street. She’s such a sweet girl. You must be proud of her.’

  ‘I am,’ said Cara.

  ‘It’s for the best, I’m sure,’ opined Brenda, dipping a biscuit into her tea. ‘I always told her she shouldn’t let David control her and break her spirit. She should have left him years ago, really.’ She spoke freely even though the boys were sitting and watching her, as though she did not think they could understand.

  Andrew got up off the sofa when he saw one of Brenda’s cats enter the room. The black and white cat approached him and sniffed his hand as he reached out to stroke it.

  ‘Ooh, he likes you,’ said Brenda.

  Andrew stroked the cat, a gleeful expression on his face. ‘What’s its name?’ he asked.

  ‘Toby,’ said Brenda.

  Andrew followed Toby over to the far corner of the room.

  Toby jumped up onto the table to get closer to the aquarium and began pawing the glass as if trying to catch the fish.

  ‘Look Carl, fishes,’ said Andrew, pointing at the exotic multicoloured fish swimming in the glass tank.

  Carl followed his brother.

  ‘I’m so pleased she’s going now, so the boys will be safe,’ said Brenda, turning to Cara. ‘I told her to leave him years ago, not long before you moved in. The boys were only babies. I saw an ambulance turn up in the middle of the night. I knew she was pregnant, but the baby wasn’t due for a few more months.’

  Cara frowned. Penelope had not, to her knowledge, been pregnant again after Andrew. Perhaps Brenda was referring to when she had been expecting Andrew.

  ‘I went to see Penny after she came out of hospital and she told me the terrible news,’ continued Brenda, dipping her biscuit into her tea as she spoke. ‘I told her a man who hits his wife has a serious problem and she should be careful. She wouldn’t listen to me. Said she loved him. I just knew it would end like this.’ She raised her eyebrows. ‘I mean, what man hits his wife? Especially his pregnant wife.’

  Cara listened but was still sure Brenda must have got the story confused.

  ‘Of course, I tried to look out for her after that,’ said Brenda. ‘I know her parents live abroad. I visited whenever I could, to make sure she was all right. You might remember I used to visit often?’

  Cara nodded.

  ‘Well, I stopped going because I got the feeling I wasn’t welcome. I thought she’d be okay, though, because you were there. I still used
to speak to her in the street, to try to get an idea of her state of mind. She didn’t want to talk about any of it, though. I think losing the child really hurt her; she withdrew into herself. Especially as the scan showed it would have been a little girl. Can’t say I’ve seen her smile much since then.’ Brenda knitted her brow and sipped her tea.

  Cara dropped the biscuit she was holding onto the carpet then looked at Brenda, eyes wide.

  Brenda’s gaze rested on the biscuit that had fallen onto the floor. She touched Cara’s hand gently noticing her expression. ‘Don’t worry, dear, it’s only a biscuit. I’ll get a dustpan and brush to clear away the crumbs.’ Checking the time on her watch, she said, ‘I must be getting on with my chores, anyway. I’ve got all the family coming over tomorrow for lunch. So much to do, so little time.’

  Cara watched Brenda float out of the room. Inwardly, she was trying in vain to erase from her mind what she had just been told. She hoped Andrew and Carl had been too busy counting the fish in the aquarium to have heard the conversation.

  Only now was Cara beginning to appreciate the extent of the violence and pain her granddaughter had suffered at David’s hands.

  Penelope had been gone for about ten minutes. Cara recalled her frightened face and the bruise on her body.

  As the minutes slipped by, she became increasingly anxious for Penelope’s safety. Her imagination soon started to play tricks on her: every man who walked along the street could be David. She felt her palms perspiring.

  A car pulled up outside the house. Cara breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Catherine emerge from the vehicle. Then she saw Penelope walking out of her front door carrying a large green suitcase. She watched as the two women hugged each other and stood talking for a short while. From the look on Catherine’s face, Penelope was telling her about what David had done. Penelope placed the suitcase in Catherine’s car and they both approached Brenda’s house.

  Once inside, Penelope sat on the sofa next to Cara. She touched Cara’s cheek.