Lily's House

by Cassandra Parkin

  I mean, if we were a bit more established, maybe we could have kept it on as a holiday place or something, but there’s no way it’s going to fit into our lives now, is it? We talked about this, remember? I think the air down there’s softening your brain

  I know. I know all that. I wasn’t expecting you to move down here. It would never work

  I know you weren’t. You always understand. That’s why I love you so much. Even when you scare the shit out of me by dropping off the radar :)

  What I meant was, I’m staying here and you’re staying there

  Sorry, what are you talking about?

  Deep breath. This is the moment. You’ve looked through the keyhole. Now walk through the door. Do it. Do it now.

  I’m leaving you

  You what? Is this some sort of joke? Because it’s not very funny

  No, it’s not a joke. It’s the truth. I’m leaving you

  This is the deceptive peace that comes when you stand in the eye of the storm. I fill the pause that stretches out by stroking the cat under her chin and admiring the way the light catches the diamonds in Lily’s ring.

  That doesn’t make any sense. What the hell do you mean?

  Please, Daniel, I need you to understand. I’m telling you our marriage is over. That’s what I’m talking about. It’s not working and I’m leaving you

  Fuck off, you are not leaving me Jen. You are absolutely not. I need you. You know that. There is no way in hell that you’re leaving me, do you hear? I’m not having it

  It’s not up to you, Daniel. It’s up to me. You can’t make me stay married to you

  Look I know sometimes I’m not easy to live with. You’re an angel for putting up with me. I need you so much and you’ve been so amazing. You can’t give up on us now. You absolutely can’t

  I can and I am. It’s too much. I can’t live with you any more

  We’re not calling it quits. We’re going to counselling

  No, we’re not

  Yes we are. I’ll go by myself as well. I think there are special courses to help when you have anger management issues. I’ve been thinking about doing one anyway. I know I get angry but I don’t want to be like that, you know that. You know how much I hate myself when I get angry with you. You promised me you’d help me

  Angry. Anger management. The way we both step around the real problem, the ugly naked truth of what he does to me. I don’t want to say the word even now. Only Marianne has ever dared to truly name what happens between Daniel and me when he loses his temper. Is it possible there is such a thing as a course that could make him stop?

  And Jen, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. How many times do I have to say it before you believe me? You’re all that matters to me, you and Marianne. If you leave me, you’ll be killing me. I can’t make it without you, I’ll kill myself if I have to live without you

  If I was there with him he’d force me to listen. He would push me into a chair and make me look at him, putting one hand over my mouth, holding my wrists with the other, to stop me from speaking to him even in the language he’s never bothered to learn properly.

  I’m sorry to hurt you. I am. But this isn’t working. We both know it

  So what, you’re making me homeless? Where am I supposed to go?

  You can keep the house. We’re living here

  And how am I supposed to pay the bloody bills? You’re being so selfish, I can’t believe how selfish you’re being. This isn’t you talking. You’re having a mental breakdown. That’s what’s happening. I’m going to call the doctor and tell him you’ve gone mad

  In fairness to Daniel, this does feel like madness. My head is so light I think it might float off my shoulders. My feet feel as if they’re a thousand miles away. I’m expanding like Alice, growing up and up, away from the ground and into the ceiling. Is this freedom? Am I free yet?

  No, Lily says. Not yet. He’s angry, but he’s not angry enough. You need to goad him into action.

  What action?

  You’ll see, Lily says.

  And what about Marianne? Have you even thought about Marianne? Come on Jen, if you won’t stay for me you can at least stay for our daughter. She deserves to have her parents together

  Marianne’s fingernails, unbitten; Marianne’s anxieties and worries, fading; Marianne’s inability to express herself, dissolving; the look of fear on Marianne’s face, smoothing out. This is for Marianne. To keep the monster away from my daughter I have to become a bigger monster, breaking Daniel’s heart in order to set us all free.

  Of course I’ve thought about Marianne. She’s staying here with me. One less thing for you to worry about

  She bloody is not. She needs to come home. She belongs with me. I raised her while you went to work, that means I’ll get custody. You’re not taking my daughter away from me

  If I was there instead of here, he would already be raging through the house, shouting, throwing things. Storming into Marianne’s room. Putting on the light. Waking her up, her little face soft and protesting at first, then dissolving into terror. His face, so huge and terrifying, pressed tight next to hers. ‘Who do you want to live with, Marianne? Me or Mum? Mum’s making you choose, she says she doesn’t want to live with us any more. But you won’t leave me, will you? You’ll stay here with me while your mean mum moves away. We don’t need her, do we? She can pay for us both to live here and go away and be all by herself. We’ll be fine.’ I won’t be able to follow the words because he’ll be turned away from me, but I’ll see their impact in her face. This is how it would happen if I was there instead of here. This is why I’ve never dared to speak before.

  Instead, we’re both here. And he’s there. But he has the car.

  Yes, says Lily, and strokes my face. He has the car. Be brave. Keep going.

  It’s not custody any more, it’s residency. And she’s old enough to choose for herself. And she wants to stay with me, not you

  You talked to her? You talked to our daughter about this? You absolute bitch. How could you? I’ll kill you when I see you, I swear

  I force myself to breathe in, then breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. Wait.

  Oh shit. Jen. You know I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I wouldn’t hurt you. I’d never hurt you. You know that

  You do hurt me. You hurt me all the time. But not any more

  I know. Not any more. I don’t want to do it any more. I want to stop. You’ve got to help me. It’s an illness, there’s something wrong with my head. I need you to help me get better. I can’t do it without you. You know that

  My backbone feels weak and dissolving. I’ve accepted this so many times over the years. Accepting it one more time feels so easy, so right. Help me, Lily. Make me strong.

  No. That’s not going to happen. I’m not helping you. I’m leaving you. It’s over.

  You don’t get to choose. Why do you get to choose? This isn’t fair. You promised me for better, for worse, remember? You can’t walk away from that. I get a say too

  Our wedding day. The sunlit room in the office that was once a beautiful Georgian house, municipal carpet on the floor, Daniel in his only suit with a clean T-shirt underneath it, me in a silvery dress I’d bought from Monsoon a few hours before. Two of Daniel’s friends, who for the purposes of the day were also designated as my friends, as witnesses. Marianne slumbering within the slowly burgeoning curve of my stomach. The registrar smiling and congratulating us. The single glass of Prosecco I allowed myself in the restaurant. At the time, a good day. In retrospect, a frightening one. Why did I let myself marry a man who laughingly refused to invite any of my family or friends to witness it, a man chosen in the teeth of Lily’s warning? Why did I stay for all the months and years afterwards? Why did I go back to work while he stayed at home? Why, why, why, why, why? Was every choice I made wrong, from the day I took Daniel’s hand instead of Lily’s and ran away from my father’s graveside? Are the choices I’m making now any better?

  You’v
e had your say. You’ve spent our entire marriage having your say. Now I’m having mine. You have to listen to me for once. This is over. All right? Do you understand? This is over and there’s nothing you can do about it

  I’m afraid even though I know he can’t hurt me. I can feel myself cringing. I don’t want to be doing this. I’m afraid of what’s going to happen.

  Yes there is. I’m not accepting it. You’re not allowed to dump me without even seeing me and talking about it. We have to talk first. We’re not ending it. We’re going to counselling at least. Come home right now and I’ll call a counsellor in the morning. You owe me that much

  I’ve kept him in clothes, food, accommodation and transport for over a decade. He’s had the use of my house, my bank account, my car and my body. I don’t owe him anything more.

  I’m emailing work tomorrow to tell them I’m resigning with immediate effect. You can send up the car documents to me and I’ll transfer ownership to you, you drive it more than I do anyway. I’ll email the letting agent and tell them we need to transfer the tenancy into your name only. And you’ll need to get a job as well, I’ll pay you what I can but it won’t be enough to live on

  And how am I supposed to get Storm Interference going around a job stacking bloody shelves in Tesco? You’re being spiteful now. You’re punishing me for being a stay-at-home parent. This isn’t fair

  Maybe it isn’t fair. Maybe I am being spiteful. I don’t feel spiteful. I feel as if I’m going to die. My heart’s pounding out of my chest. If I take a single step I’ll fly into the sky. I feel as if the datura I touched earlier has seeped into my skin. Is this magic? Or is it just madness?

  I don’t want to talk about this any more. I’m tired and I want to go to bed

  You’re tired? YOU’RE TIRED? You stupid little bitch, you’ve done nothing but laze around and have fun without me since you got there. You could have got that flat on the market in four days if you’d put your mind to it. Have you met someone else? You’ve met someone else, I know you have. No one ever leaves a happy marriage unless there’s someone else. Who is he?

  He’s someone I met thirteen summers ago, and haven’t seen since. I didn’t keep him around either.

  Of course I haven’t met someone else. It’s over, that’s all. Now I’m going to bed and I suggest you do the same

  You can actually sleep after what you’ve done?

  Goodnight, Daniel

  What do you think you’re doing? You don’t get to say when this conversation is over. I need to talk to you some more

  Come on Jen, don’t ignore me. That’s bloody childish. We’re not throwing away fifteen years because you want to act like a kid

  Answer me

  I know you’re reading these, I can see on my phone

  Right, that’s it. I’m coming down to see you

  Oh God. Oh God. Is this how it ends?

  No, please don’t come down. You don’t need to come down

  Don’t tell me what to do. I’ll fight for this marriage even if you won’t. The roads are quiet. I’ll be there in about six hours

  You can’t. Please don’t. Let’s be civilised, try and sort this out like adults.

  Like adults?! Adults talk face-to-face. They don’t hide behind their phones

  Please, Daniel. Don’t come down now

  Too late. I’m getting in the car now. I’m on my way

  Then put your phone away at least

  Stop trying to control me Jen. I’m not going to be pushed around. You think you’re in charge of everything but you’re not

  Daniel, please please don’t come down. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I’m not leaving you. I’ll come home on the next train, I’ll

  No, says Lily, shaking her head. That’s not the real you talking, Jen. Stay strong. I promise it will be all right.

  All right, then. We’ll talk when you get here. Drive carefully

  I think I might actually die of the terror I feel. Daniel is coming. He’s in the car, right now. His hair will be falling over his eyes in that flopsy, adorable way that catches the attention of all the young clueless girls who always seem to hang around studios, licking their lips at him like dreamy predators. “You don’t need to worry,” he always tells me, stroking the back of my neck or squeezing my arm. “I’m not interested in them. Why would I be? I’ve got you.” Was that the truth? Has anything he ever told me been true?

  Of course he was telling the truth, says Lily. Why would he want them? Would they pay for everything and do all the housework and fund his daydreams, and provide him with sex on tap and let him knock them around whenever things didn’t go his way?

  I don’t want to listen to her any more. I don’t want to do anything any more. I want this all to stop. I have no more strength.

  You poor girl. Lily’s hands on my hair as she removes the hairpins and brushes out the tangles are very gentle, very comforting. You’re worn out. It’s all right. It’s nearly over. Sleep. Sleep now. Climb into bed and sleep now.

  But he’s coming to—

  I promise you, my darling, after tonight Daniel will never ever hurt you again. You’ve done everything you need to. When you wake up, you’ll see.

  I can hardly keep my eyes open. It’s an effort to drag my feet across the floor. The bedcovers are heavy and unyielding.

  Sleep now, Lily commands me, and I fall down, down, down a tight spiral of exhaustion and land, as always, at the bottom of the hill, with Marianne’s hand tucked securely into mine.

  “We keep doing this,” Marianne says as we reach the top of the hill.

  “I know. But this is the last time.”

  “How do you know it’s the last time?”

  “Because this time it’s different,” Lily says, holding out her hand to Marianne. Marianne hesitates, then takes it, drawn by Lily’s compelling charm just as I always was. I’m struck once more by how much they would have liked, as well as loved, each other. So many years I lost to Daniel.

  And as I think his name, as if I’ve conjured him, he’s there at the bottom of the hill, smiling and terrible, crawling slowly up towards us, teeth bared, ready to tear us all into pieces.

  “You can change this,” Lily tells me. “You’re in charge now. You have all the power you need. Now it’s time to use it.”

  “How? How can I change it?”

  “You already have. You told him you were leaving him, remember? And now you’re free.”

  “But he’s coming. He’s coming. He’s coming to kill us both. I know he is. That’s why I never dared say anything before.”

  “But he isn’t coming,” Lily tells me. “You killed him. Don’t you remember?”

  And then I see that Daniel isn’t there at all, he was never there; it’s only the way the light falls across the pavement, casting strange shadows. Daniel is somewhere else, somewhere crowded with traffic and lit by the orange-white flare of sodium, somewhere with sirens and blankets and strobing blue lights, and a rainbow leak of petrol spilled across black tarmac, trickling into the central reservation and pooling around the cat’s-eyes. When Marianne was small, she loved to watch as they flashed by beneath the brief gaze of the headlights. Her favourites were the red and green ones that marked a junction, but when the lights of the police car catch the reflectors, I see that these are amber.

  “It was for the best,” Lily says. “Wake up now. Wake up, my darling. It’s morning. A new day.”

  There’s a seagull on the windowsill, peering in at me with an eye as yellow as poison. The floor is littered with everything I assembled last night: the hairpins, the nightgown, the perfume, my phone, Lily’s powder compact. The sight makes me cringe with embarrassment. What if Marianne sees? I scrabble everything hastily up, putting Lily’s things back in their places. There’s something different. What is it? I glance at my phone and realise there’s no message from Daniel.

  It’s nearly nine o’clock. He should have been here hours ago. Is he hiding in the sitting room? Surely he couldn’t ha
ve got in without waking Marianne. I creep down the hallway anyway, irrationally terrified that he’ll be waiting on the sofa, but the only person in the room is the cat, stretched out in a patch of sunshine. When I look out of the window, there’s no car on the driveway.

  And there never will be, says Lily. Goodbye, my darling. I’ll see you again one day.

  Where are you going?

  I feel a kiss on my cheek, and the stir of the air as if someone has left the room. When I turn to look, I see Marianne standing in the doorway, tousled and sleepy-looking. I hold out my hand and she comes to stand beside me, bending down to stroke the cat as she twines around our ankles, pleading for attention or perhaps for food.

  “Mummy,” she says. “Is everything all right? Look, there’s a car coming.” She touches my arm to make sure I’m listening. Her fingers are very cold. “Is that a police car?”

  I look round for Lily to advise me, but she’s no longer there, and I understand that she will never be there again; perhaps she never was, perhaps I simply conjured her to give me the strength and will to do what needed to be done. I have killed Daniel, just as Lily killed James’s wife and Margaret’s husband, and as surely as Lily escaped justice, so I will too. No one looking at our final text conversation will see anything other than a terrified wife trying to escape a violent husband.

  “Is Daddy all right?” Marianne’s eyes are very large and dark. “I dreamed he was in a car crash.”

  What do I say? Part of me wants to tell her the truth. I think you’re right, I could say. You have Lily Pascoe’s blood in your veins, and whatever gifts she had, you’ll have too. Sometimes you’ll dream, and what you dream will turn out to be true. But I don’t know if that’s right. I’ve never known if the things Lily seemed to see without being told, my apparently prophetic dreams, are a true supernatural power, or simply the knowledge that comes with knowing those you love to the bone.