Never Ever Tell

by Kirsty Ferguson

  He backhanded her.

  ‘Christ, Mark! Just stop it!’

  He grabbed her by the front of her top, yanking her close to him, so close that his beer breath flowed over her face. ‘Don’t you tell me what to do. Ever.’

  She thought he was going to hit her again, but instead he pushed her away and stormed out the back door and into the shed where she heard him banging around.

  Two babies. She sighed and gently touched her stomach, making a promise to this baby that she’d protect him or her as much as she could, including against their dad.

  Vanessa was at the grocery store with Wren when someone spoke behind her.

  ‘So, this is the little bastard.’

  Vanessa turned, an unhappy and squirming one-year-old Wren draped over her shoulder and a red plastic basket looped over the other arm. Maggie was standing in front of her looking perfectly made up and tanned next to Vanessa’s scraggly, unkept and pale appearance. Vanessa hadn’t bothered to cover up the dark rings around her haunted eyes and the fading bruise visible across one cheek. She was wearing yesterday’s clothes.

  ‘Maggie,’ she said softly, taking her in. ‘You look good.’ And she really meant it.

  ‘Yeah, well, you look like shit.’ Maggie had always been honest with her.

  ‘Thanks,’ she whispered, a ghost of a smile on her face. She hefted Wren in her arms, juggling the basket, one corner poking in painfully under her breast. He thrashed his head around until his eyes eventually settled on Maggie. ‘I made my bed, Maggie. I hurt you and I’m taking responsibility for that, but you don’t get to call my son names.’ There was steel in her voice as she defended her baby.

  ‘I’m sorry. He just looks like you both… you and Mark.’ Maggie inspected Vanessa’s face carefully. It was clear she had noted the bruise. ‘Are you OK?’

  Vanessa moved her hair over her cheek. ‘Why do you care?’

  ‘I don’t, I guess. I’ve just heard rumors, and it looks like they might be true.’

  ‘Yeah, well, I walked into a cupboard door, nothing more.’

  They both knew it was a lie that dropped from her lips. It hung in the air.

  ‘You hate me,’ Vanessa blurted out, not sure why she even talking to Maggie.

  Maggie considered her next words. ‘Yeah, I guess a little, but I’ll always worry about you.’

  ‘I’m pregnant.’ Vanessa had no idea why she told her; there was no reason to.

  Maggie’s eyes narrowed. ‘You always did know how to hurt me,’ she choked out before turning and walking off. Vanessa wanted to call out after her. To apologize. To tell her what happened. But what was the point? It was over with Maggie. She was lost to her. Again.

  Vanessa stared after her for a long time, lost in the past. Eventually she came back to the present, Wren wriggling in her arms. She popped him down on his feet and hung onto his little hand. He looked up at her, trusting, a wide grin on his face. She stared at him. Yes, he did look like Mark, but as he grew older, he favored her a little more. A year of beatings, no apologies on his part and silence on hers. People knew what went on inside their home, yet nobody did anything. Mark had always been popular, charming everyone with his good looks and quick tongue. Working at the bar, he got to know the locals even more. He was one of them; she was just a slut who got what she deserved. Small towns had long memories. Her mom pushed her gently to leave him and come home without actually coming out and saying it. She was supportive, and the offer was tempting, but Vanessa felt like this was her punishment for what she did to Maggie. The only bright spot in her life was Wren, and, soon, this new baby.

  The night their second child was born, Mark was at work, pulling the late shift. Typically, on nights like those, he finished around two in the morning. But no matter what time he came home, he was always drunk and angry. Vanessa went into labor while she was feeding Wren. He was happily munching on his tea when she felt a contraction and the warm rush of her water breaking.

  ‘Shit.’ She went to get the mop and cleaned the floor before changing and ringing her mom to let her know. Her dad answered. ‘Is Mom there?’ she asked coldly, no hello, no how are you. She was sticking to her guns, even under these circumstances. It had been a year since she had spoken to him properly. She could admit that she missed him, missed being close with him, but she wouldn’t back down.

  ‘Ness. Are you OK?’ He must have heard the fear in her voice and the concern in his was almost her undoing.

  She stayed silent. Eventually he sighed. ‘I’ll go get her.’

  ‘Is it time?’ Her mom asked breathlessly as she came to the phone.

  ‘Yeah. I’m scared, Mom.’

  ‘I’ll be right there.’ Vanessa hung up the phone and hobbled to get her hospital bag, putting it by the front door, fighting another contraction as she did. She pulled Wren from his highchair and cleaned him up, another contraction rocking her body. She couldn’t help but cry out. Wren, in her arms, turned at the sound. He stared at her, then laid one little chubby hand against her cheek. She was touched by the kindness of her son’s innocent gesture.

  ‘Thanks, my beautiful boy,’ she whispered, kissing his forehead before putting him down. She rang the bar and Mark answered.

  ‘Mark, it’s me.’

  ‘Vanessa?’

  Who else would ‘me’ be?

  ‘Yeah, it’s Vanessa. I’ve just gone into labor so I’ll meet you at the hospital. I’m leaving in about five minutes when Mom gets here.’ She felt another contraction building and gripped the phone, trying to breathe through it.

  ‘Can’t leave, gotta close up,’ he said casually, as if he wasn’t about to become a dad again.

  She couldn’t think. ‘I’m having a bloody baby, Mark. You need to be there.’

  ‘And not one of these guys paying my wages gives a shit that you’re having a fucking baby,’ he hissed into the phone. ‘They only care where their next drink is coming from and that’s me.’ He hung up on her. He fucking hung up on her!

  ‘Mommy?’ She turned, bending down to her little boy

  ‘Wren, honey, Mommy is going to hospital now. Remember how I told you that you’re going to be a big brother?’ He nodded, not understanding at all. She smiled anyway and was scooping him up in her arms for a hug when her mom knocked on the door. ‘I’ll be bringing your baby brother or sister home in a few days.’

  But she was worried. She hadn’t felt the baby kick in the past few days. Wren hadn’t let up the closer they’d got to his birth, but this time, there was nothing. She had been so scared that she couldn’t even bring herself to go to the doctor to get herself checked out.

  She let her mom in, who gave both her and Wren a big hug before taking her grandson from her daughter’s arms. Her mom rang an ambulance and as they waited Vanessa said, ‘I don’t want to do this by myself.’ She was scared.

  ‘He’ll come,’ her mom said optimistically, ‘and if he doesn’t, well, then fuck him.’

  Vanessa stifled a small laugh. She knew within her heart that he wouldn’t come. There was always something more important than his family. Than Wren. He was no father to him at all.

  So she wasn’t surprised that he wasn’t at the hospital waiting for her. Nor was he there when the doctor told her gently that there was no heartbeat and that her baby had died in the womb, the umbilical cord wrapped around her tiny neck. Her baby girl would be born dead.

  Vanessa lay on the bed in shock, her whole body shaking. Her teeth chattered and she couldn’t seem to get warm no matter how many blankets they put on her. She was numb. Having to deliver her dead child was the most horrific thing she had ever done. Worse than anything Mark had inflicted upon her.

  The nurse called her mom and soon after, she came striding through the door, her gaze immediately falling on Vanessa who burst into tears. Her mom sat on the edge of the bed and gathered Vanessa into her arms. ‘I know, baby. I know.’ The nurses caring for her gave the mother and daughter their privacy, and they stayed locked in
an embrace for a long time. Vanessa’s eyes were puffy and red, her heart was broken.

  ‘I lost her, Mom. I did this.’

  ‘It’s not your fault, Ness. I know it doesn’t feel like it now, but it’s not.’

  ‘Where’s Mark?’ Vanessa asked, her voice hoarse from crying. Her throat felt ripped raw, like her heart, torn into tatters.

  ‘We can’t get ahold of him.’

  ‘But the bar must be closed by now. Did you try his cellphone?’

  ‘Yes, darl. He’s not answering.’ Her mom bit her bottom lip, clearly wanting to say more about the absentee Mark, but she held her tongue.

  Vanessa rolled over on the bed. ‘I lost his child and he can’t even be bothered to show up.’ She didn’t know why she had expected anything else of him. Was he at home purposefully ignoring the hospital and her mom’s calls? Was he that callous? She thought of his hands on her throughout her pregnancy. Yes, he was.

  Her mom rubbed her back until she finally fell into an uneasy sleep plagued with nightmares. She stayed in hospital for two more days, her mom taking care of Wren at her parents’ home. She had explained to Wren that Mommy wouldn’t be bringing a baby home with her because the baby had gone to heaven. Mark never came to see her. He didn’t even ring to check on her or to see how Wren was, or even find out where he was.

  She came home without her daughter, a piece of her heart having died with her. When the taxi dropped her off at the curb, she stood there, wanting desperately to flee. To grab Wren and run and just keep running until she felt safe and happy again. She knew it was just a dream, that she’d never actually get away and start afresh.

  Mark’s car was in the driveway, and she steeled herself for seeing him. She wished he were at work so she could just have some alone time for a little while before the inevitable confrontation. She unlocked the front door, pushing it open as quietly as she could. The longer she didn’t interact with him, the better. She was so damn angry with him.

  She shuffled down the hallway to the room they shared. She looked at the bed where he had attacked her and made a baby. The thought of sharing it with him now was repulsive. He had battered her love for him right from her body and there was nothing left. She lowered herself carefully onto the bed and lay curled up on her side, the large tears rolling down her face to drip off her nose. She had sworn to protect her baby, but she hadn’t. Was she being punished still? Hadn’t she suffered enough living with Mark every day?

  She heard heavy footfalls coming down the carpeted hallway. She stopped crying, swallowing her tears with difficulty. She couldn’t be hurt by anything he did anymore, surely? Her tear-filled gaze met his as he lounged in the doorway.

  ‘So, it died, huh?’

  Her breath stilled. OK, he could still hurt her with his callousness. ‘Is that all you have to say? Your daughter just died!’ She began to cry again. ‘You weren’t even there for me.’

  ‘I had other shit to do, Vanessa. The world doesn’t revolve around you.’

  ‘No, just you.’

  ‘What the fuck did you just say?’ he demanded, walking two steps into the room. Her body tensed up, waiting for the punch. It didn’t come.

  ‘I didn’t want another baby with you anyway,’ he growled.

  ‘Then you shouldn’t have raped me.’ Truth only.

  He slammed his fist into the wall, his hand going through the plasterboard. Good. She hoped it hurt. At least it wasn’t her face.

  ‘Don’t talk to me like that again, Vanessa,’ he warned.

  ‘Or what? You’ll do it again? Been there, done that. No fucking way. You touch me again and I’ll kill you in your sleep.’ She meant it.

  He backed off, maybe seeing the truth and conviction in her eyes. She would never let him violate her again. He thumped the wall again and turned, walking back down the hallway. Vanessa let out a shaky breath.

  ‘Wren’s fine, thanks for asking!’ She couldn’t resist the parting shot, she just didn’t care anymore.

  ‘Don’t give a shit,’ came the faint reply.

  He may not have cared about Wren, but she sure as shit did. She couldn’t wait another night to see him, she needed to hold him in her arms and smell the sweetness of his hair. She rang her mom and asked her to bring him back home to her.

  Not even ten minutes later she was opening the front door to an excited Wren. The instant she saw her little man she felt like bursting into tears again, hoping the hot flow would burn the pain from her heart. Instead, she grabbed Wren and hugged him to her chest, smoothing down his fine hair and kissing him.

  ‘I won’t stay,’ her mom said, and Vanessa knew that she wanted to say something to Mark but didn’t want to make it worse for Vanessa. ‘Sure you don’t want me to have him for one more night?’

  ‘Yes, but thanks, Mom. I need him home.’ She kissed her mom’s papery cheek and closed the door, holding Wren tightly in her arms.

  ‘I missed you, sweetheart. I love you so much.’

  ‘Mommy!’ he said as he snuggled into her neck, placing a slobbery kiss on her shoulder. It was just what she needed. She just had to focus on Wren now. Make sure she could protect him.

  3

  And that’s what happened for the next eight years. Vanessa had adjusted and finally accepted her lot in life. It was difficult, and she fought it for so long but in the end, it was just the way it was. She was that girl after all. Mark was who he was, and he was never going to change his attitude toward her or Wren. He resented her for tying him down with a child, reminding her of that fact every chance he could. He could have had a real life, he could have been happy with Maggie, on and on he’d go. She let it go in one ear and out the other. His words couldn’t hurt her anymore.

  ‘Vanessa!’ bellowed Mark. She had been folding and putting away Wren’s school uniform. He was in his room helping her. He was always helping her. They had such a close bond. They shared a glance. It was a voice that meant trouble.

  ‘Stay in your room, Wren. I mean it.’ Her voice was stern, but her face softened as she kissed him on the forehead. ‘Love you, sweet boy.’

  She walked down the hallway quickly, knowing how impatient Mark was. ‘Are you after some lunch, Mark?’ she asked politely.

  ‘No, you dumb slut, I don’t want anything to eat, Jesus! I want my goddamn black pants. Where are they?’

  Vanessa wracked her brain. She had already done the wash, and she knew for certain that there had been no black pants in there. ‘They weren’t in the wash, Mark,’ she said cautiously, aware that he was on the verge of rage. Over a pair of pants, of all things. The slightest thing set him off these days and Vanessa was amazed that his words and his fists still managed to hurt her.

  ‘What do you mean?’ His eyes narrowed to slits, and she took half a step backward.

  ‘You were wearing gray tracksuit pants when you came home last night. Not your work pants.’ She had thought it odd but didn’t say anything. ‘I have no clue where your pants are.’ She tried keeping her voice neutral, but his fist shot out anyway, punching her, breaking her nose. Not for the first time. She was gushing blood, trying to catch it in her hands for some reason, as if she could stuff it back in and it all would be OK. She felt the familiar flare of pain followed by the dull throbbing. She must have cried out because she heard little footsteps running down the hallway behind her. Wren! She tried to turn, to scream at him to stop, to run away. But Mark attacked her again, slapping her about the head, connecting with her nose more than once. The pain was excruciating; she cried out again. She couldn’t help it. She saw Wren out of the corner of her eye just as Mark pushed her back onto the table, leaning over her, slipping his hand around her neck. She clawed at his hand, trying to break the hold he had on her. She saw spots in front of her vision but willed herself not to pass out – who knows what he’d do to Wren. She let go of Mark’s hand and flailed her hands behind her back, trying to shoo Wren away to safety.

  Suddenly Mark gave a yell of pain, and his hand dropped from
her throat. ‘You little fuckhead! Wait till I catch you!’ She looked down. The remains of a wooden statue given to her by her parents as a wedding present lay broken at Mark’s feet, the head snapped off. He was rubbing his temple, a black bruise beginning to appear under the skin.

  Wren had hit Mark and run. She heard the front door open and slam close, and she knew that he would be running to his nannie’s house. Vanessa struggled to pull herself together so she could follow Wren, make sure that he was OK. Mark’s hand circled her wrist, grinding the bones together painfully. Tendons stood out in his neck; his eyes bulged from their sockets. He tightened his grip, then threw her across the table. She skidded across the top, landing painfully on her side on the floor. It had all happened so fast. She had kicked one of the chairs and it was now laying on its side. She had the insane desire to tuck it back neatly under the table. Her nose throbbed, the blood pulsing in her head in time with her labored breathing. From her vantage point on the kitchen floor, she saw a small pair of feet just peeking out from the hallway.

  Shit! Wren had only pretended to run. What if Mark saw him?

  Terrified, she motioned for him to go, to run away. She had to keep Mark’s focus on her so he wouldn’t see Wren. So he wouldn’t kill him.

  ‘You’re such a fucking loser,’ she taunted, standing up slowly, blood still dripping from her ruined nose, staining her top and dripping onto the floor. I just cleaned that damn thing.

  ‘I’m the fucking loser?’

  ‘Just let me go, Mark. Let us go.’

  ‘Let you go? I’ll let you go when I’m good and ready. You ruined my life.’

  ‘This again?’ She smiled through the blood that coated her teeth. ‘Your life was going nowhere anyway. You had the chance to be happy with us, to be a dad, but you chose something else.’ The little feet had disappeared. Hopefully hiding in the wardrobe in his bedroom like they’d practiced.

  Mark grabbed Vanessa, throwing her face down over the table. She fought, and she fought hard. He pulled her head back by her hair, smashing her face down into the table. She screamed, her nose shrieking in unison. She knew what was coming; she heard him undoing his belt. He grabbed hold of her pants, pulling them down roughly. He forced himself inside her with one violent thrust. He put his hands around her waist and fucked her hard. She bit her lip, but her eyes still leaked tears. She would not let him know how much she was hurting; it would only serve to heighten his pleasure.