by Nesta Tuomey
‘Mum, I’m starving,’ Terry complained. ‘Can I have steak?’ It was the dearest item on the menu and he was delighted when she nodded, hardly aware of his request.
No, she couldn’t regret that it was done, Jane’s thoughts ran on. Only for originally keeping the whole thing from Eddie. And Annette, who had every right to be informed of the situation. Jane realised now that she had been afraid Annette might stop her and reasoned that for all she knew Annette might have been fully aware of the situation, yet turning a blind eye. Statistics suggested that in many cases of child abuse the mother already knew the score. If this were the Shannon’s case it would have been cruel to subject Claire to any more pain or mishandling. So Jane argued with herself as she toyed with her steak, feeling depressed, her appetite suddenly gone.
‘Aren’t you going to finish it?’ Sheena asked, and was delighted when Jane allowed her remove it to her own plate. They were all acting as though they had not been fed in days. Ruthie too was eating heartily, and even stealing chips from her plate.
Jane ordered a brandy and sat sipping it gloomily. Pull yourself together, she advised herself grimly. You only did what had to be done. Someone had to take responsibility and you were the one most qualified. Still, she couldn’t help feeling guilty.
Sheena came over to see Claire the minute she got back from Waterford and Claire’s heart rose at the sight of her, and stayed up. It was the beginning of feeling better.
‘Daddy is buying another dog for Hugh,’ Sheena told her. They were in Claire’s bedroom, sitting on the window seat. ‘The funny thing is, Hugh isn’t a bit pleased and keeps saying he doesn’t want it.’
Claire was not surprised, knowing how much Hugh had loved Hero. ‘When is he getting it?’ she asked.
‘Don’t know. Before he goes back to school, I suppose.’ Sheena lost interest in her brother and excitedly raised the bag she was carrying. ‘Claire! Shut your eyes and don’t look till I tell you.’
Claire obediently closed her eyes.
‘Now!’ Sheena sounded exultant. She was holding up a pair of shiny black patent leather shoes, with tiny taffeta bows on the pointy toes. ‘Mummy bought them for me as a present for looking after Daddy and the others while she was away. Aren’t they fab?’
Claire nodded. She loved them but was scared to death of them. Translated, they meant dancing and boys. Unknown territory. Sheena slipped them on and wavered up and down the room. ‘I can’t wear them until my birthday, Mummy says, but that’s light years away.’
Another two months actually.
‘I’ll die if I can’t show them off before then.’ Sheena sighed dramatically. Claire grimaced in sympathy. She was beginning to feel a dragging tiredness. She leaned against the wall.
‘Oh, I nearly forgot,’ Sheena said, delving deep again, ‘I brought you a present.’ She pulled out a fluffy little pink bear with a striped bow and presented it to Claire with a flourish.
‘Thanks!’ Claire propped it in the window, feeling touched and pleased.
‘It was Ruthie’s idea actually,’ Sheena admitted. ‘She said let’s bring home a cuddly bear for Claire-bear.’
Claire laughed. Trust Ruthie not to forget her. When Sheena went home she sat him into the beer mug Christopher had brought her back from his school trip to the Rhineland. She got undressed and climbed into bed. It was a relief to be lying down again. She closed her eyes and thought about Hugh and his new dog.
Eddie had become concerned by Hugh’s despondency and, thinking to cheer him up, bought him the puppy. It was another cocker spaniel but, unlike Hero, was male with white markings. When Hugh displayed no interest whatever in the new pet Eddie was at first surprised, then angry.
‘Very well,’ he said curtly. ‘Since you don’t appreciate the gift it will be given to your brother.’ But even this had no effect. Hugh just shrugged and walked away. Eddie stared after him, baffled. No dog could ever replace Hero in Hugh’s heart so there was no use even trying. It was like expecting Romeo to forget all about Juliet and console himself with another girl from the Capulet family. Besides, the puppy was a present from Eddie, and Hugh wanted nothing from his father. Once Eddie’s most ardent supporter, he now repudiated his father utterly.
Jane was troubled. She could not exactly pinpoint the moment when she had first noticed Hugh’s disenchantment with his father. She thought it might have been before the holiday but couldn’t be sure. All she could remember was how excited Hugh had been about Claire coming away with them for Easter. He had talked of nothing else for days. Jane sighed. So much lately seemed to revolve around Claire.
Jane had called over to see Claire the day after she returned from Waterford, but beyond enquiring how the girl was feeling and if she was sleeping all right, thought it wiser to leave well alone. She had no way of gauging if Claire realised just what had occurred or even been aware that she was pregnant.
‘You should be out in the sun in this good weather,’ she advised her. ‘Get some colour in your cheeks.’
Claire said nothing.
‘I’ll put you on an iron tonic,’ Jane said, adding, ‘Don’t worry. I have one that tastes really nice.’ She chatted on, unsurprised that the girl was listless and withdrawn. It was only to be expected, she thought. Nor was she surprised by her brief, almost monosyllabic replies. Claire had never been gregarious.
In one way it was a relief. What was the point in discussion at this stage? Jane asked herself, as she scribbled a prescription. Better to try and put the whole thing behind them. Jane shuddered at the thought of Annette finding out what had happened. She didn’t know what she would say in expiation if Annette ever did.
She kissed Claire. ‘I’ll come over soon again, love,’ she promised. ‘And don’t be shy about dropping over to us. You know you’re always welcome.’
Claire gave a wan smile, her first lightening of expression since Jane had arrived in the door. Thank goodness for the resilience of youth, she thought. She gave Claire’s arm a fond squeeze and went back across the street.
Taking everything into consideration Claire was doing very well, Jane told herself, as she went into her house. Not that she could hope to escape without some emotional scarring, Jane reckoned.
Jane made a deliberate effort to put the whole unhappy business out of her mind and almost, though not quite, succeeded. She had learned from her work as counsellor not to allow herself the luxury of wallowing in excessive pity or regret. To do so would render her emotionally unfit to help others with their troubles. In Claire’s case, however, her affections and emotions were already so closely engaged that she had found it difficult to distance herself. Jane was also troubled by a vague feeling, almost a presentiment, that some day she would be required to pay dearly for her actions. She shrugged uneasily. Maybe she was being fanciful.
Strangely, she and Eddie had never discussed the matter. Although she kept expecting him to bring it up he never did. She eventually put it down to reticence on his part. Claire was entitled to her privacy and, after all, it had really nothing to do with him. At the same time to have been able to discuss it with him would have afforded Jane great relief.
Which brought her back to her worries about Hugh. What was to be done about him? She only wished she knew.
That night Jane was awakened by sounds of something moving stealthily about the house and, thinking the puppy had been left in, threw on her housecoat over her pyjamas and went downstairs. In the dark she almost stumbled over Hugh, who was crouched at the foot of the stairs, seemingly in earnest conversation with himself.
‘What are you doing up at this hour, Hugh?’ she asked. He paid her no heed but just stared fixedly past her and it was only then that she realised he was asleep. She strained her ears to hear what he was muttering and thought she heard him saying Claire’s name over and over. After a moment, she put her arm about him and gently guided him back to bed.
She stayed with him until his breathing became even and relaxed. Once or twice after Ruthie w
as born, when he was adjusting to the strain of the new baby and she herself had little time to spare for him, he had sleepwalked like this. She wondered if it had anything to do with the constraint between his father and himself.
When Jane was satisfied that Hugh was sleeping peacefully she returned to her own room, leaving the bedroom door ajar so that she would hear him if he got up again, As she eased herself under the quilt, Eddie opened his eyes and mumbled, ‘Where were you?’
‘The loo,’ Jane told him, not wanting to go into the whole thing about Hugh, not just then.
‘Cut down your fluids before bedtime,’ Eddie advised, and fell asleep again.
Jane lay awake for a while thinking about her son, slightly disturbed by the incident and wondering if the bullying at school might have started up again. He’s at such a vulnerable age, she thought. Maybe the best thing would be to take time off to bring him to a film or the Zoo without any of the others, and he might be encouraged to confide in her. She would do that, Jane decided, and fell asleep herself.
But although she genuinely meant to carry out her resolution, Jane agreed soon afterwards to take on an extra couple of evenings at the clinic, and became so burdened by pressure of work that beyond occasionally reminding herself to do something about Hugh, never got around to it.
Meanwhile the rift between Hugh and his father deepened. What he had seen that night in the holiday bungalow festered in Hugh’s memory like an unpoulticed sore. As soon as he went to bed at night and turned out the light the whole scenario played again behind his closed lids, with the same shocking intensity: the flickering firelight, the two figures, Claire’s softly pleading voice and the inexorable hand on her neck, forcing her to do that obscene thing. Hugh felt a chilling hatred for his father and thought that as long as he lived he would never forgive him. Never!
FOUR
As love for Eddie withered in Hugh’s heart, it flourished in Annette’s. Her involvement with the father of Claire’s schoolfriend gave her a flustered, clandestine feeling. She felt as though a nerve she had believed dead had suddenly resurrected and come throbbing back to life. Her conscience, on the other hand became, as it were, comatose.
She took dangerous and exciting risks. Once when Eddie called late at night, she allowed him make love to her on the living-room floor, where either of her children might have chanced upon them at any moment. It was only later that she realised the window blind was not fully down. Would it have made any difference if she had known? Probably not, Annette decided.
She was like ground that has not been tilled or watered for a long time but, when the hard crust is turned over, reveals rich arable soil. Under his practised touch she was becoming the woman she had once long ago dreamed of becoming.
Annette accepted that her behaviour was crazy, irresponsible. Honour, loyalty, commitment were only words and meant nothing to her anymore. In the end it came down to her own desires versus that of her family’s well-being, his wife’s and children’s happiness.
‘Why do I love him? Do I love him?’ were questions Annette asked herself constantly. There was no convincing answer. She loved the feeling he inspired, if not the man. That was the only sure thing.
Once again her household, which had already weathered two domestic upheavals, suffered from her neglect. Her children no longer expected things to be orderly like in other people’s homes and accepted that their mother was different. Annette did, indeed, feel different. She was overwhelmed by her awakening sexuality. She had never really been loved before, she told herself. Well, not in the truly sexual sense, except perhaps for an unrequited love affair she had experienced while at college.
So here she was again, Annette told herself, waiting in another night for Eddie, on edge, smoking too much, with Claire upstairs doing her homework and Christopher in bed listening to his Walkman. Eddie was becoming like a drug, she thought. The more she had of him, the more she had to have. She wondered how she would endure the night if she did not see him.
It was after school on a Friday afternoon in May and Sheena loitered with Claire outside her house. ‘Want to come in and play with the new puppy for a bit?’ Sheena asked.
Not that Sheena was all that keen on the pup - it left messes and chewed things - but she knew how fond Claire was of Hugh and thought she might be missing him.
Claire hesitated, then nodded. ‘All right.’
With a pleased smile Sheena led the way into her house. ‘Look who’s here,’ she called, going ahead of Claire into the kitchen.
Hugh looked up from the table where he was doing his homework. He stared at Claire in dumb embarrassment, a tide of red sweeping over his face.
Sheena noticed her brother’s confusion and grinned. It was just as she had suspected. Hugh was soft on Claire. Sheena debated whether to rag him over it and then decided to keep her derision for another time. Not that she wasn’t quite fond of her young brother but some of Terry’s scornful attitude towards Hugh had rubbed off on her.
‘Hello Hugh,’ Claire said quietly. ‘Can I see your puppy?’
‘He’s not my pup,’ Hugh said abruptly, turning back to his books. Now it was Claire’s turn to flush.
‘Come on.’ Sheena pulled her towards the door. ‘I’ll show you. He’s out in the garden.’
As soon as they were gone, Hugh regretted his rudeness. He got up and went to look out the window. The girls were at the end of the garden, standing under the apple blossoms. He thought they made a pretty picture, dark and blonde heads pressed close together. He wished now he had been nicer to Claire. He felt all mixed up, one part of him longing to run down the garden and share in the fun of the puppy, the other aloofly standing by, hating it and everything it stood for. He turned slowly away, holding in his mind the sight of Claire standing under the flowering apple tree, stroking the puppy on her shoulder. He went to the table and slumped down.
Hugh picked up his pen and sat turning it idly between his fingers and staring into space. But as soon as he heard the back door opening he grabbed up a book and stuck his face into it. He heard Claire’s quiet voice uttering his name as she passed through on her ay to the hall and in his mind he echoed her soft goodbye, but no words left his lips.
Jane’s suspicion that the bullying had started up again was correct. Hugh had come to dread the moment each morning when he set off for school. Actually, the jeering and name-calling had never really ceased, only been suspended for a time. Now, added to the stigma of spectacles, was Hugh’s weight. He was rounder, chubbier than his classmates, the perfect target for all those ‘Hey Fatty’ jokes.
Hugh detested his body and was convinced that, no matter what he wore, he looked fat and ungainly. At not quite twelve he was into men’s sizes already. In another year or two he would be tall enough to carry it off and, with his fine eyes and good skin, he was already showing signs of the man he would become. But all Hugh could see when he looked in a mirror was his fat rounded shoulders in the outsize school sweater and the size thirty-eight trousers, wider and baggier than anyone else’s in the class. He could have got away with a size smaller but Jane was genuinely concerned about the harmful effect of tight, constricting pants on a growing boy. Hugh was mortified.
When Hugh returned to school after Easter, the going got rougher. Like blood on a wounded animal the bullies scented his misery and harried him unmercifully, vying with each other to see how far they could provoke him. They knew of his friendship with Claire, and Mark, the ringleader, who lived on their road, had somehow found out about Annette and Eddie.
‘Your old man and her old woman are banging each other,’ Mark told Hugh, making a lewd gesture with thumb and forefinger.
‘You’re a liar,’ Hugh said. ‘A bloody liar.’
‘Watch who you’re calling names.’ Mark adopted a threatening stance.
‘Liar!’ Hugh repeated, his voice very high now and on the verge of tears. Apprehensive too, knowing what he already did about his father and Claire.
Mark, sensin
g some inner uncertainty, pressed his advantage. ‘Okay, don’t believe me then. Go see for yourself. Look in the window late at night, the way I did, and see who’s a liar.’
Hugh swung a punch at him but Mark was very quick. They wrestled each other and then, conscious of his glasses, Hugh backed away and they stood facing each other, panting. ‘Specky-four-eyes!’ Mark said scornfully. He gave Hugh a last disdainful push and walked away.
Hugh stared after him, choking back tears. Then, without really knowing why he did it, he took out Claire’s picture from his inside pocket and tore it up. As the pieces fell from his hand, a wind sprang up and blew them about the gutter.
That night when Eddie went out for his bedtime stroll Hugh followed him. Eddie draped a scarf about his neck and shouted to Jane that he wouldn’t be long. She had already gone up to bed. With her extra hours at the clinic she was perpetually tired these days and constantly popped vitamins for energy. Once she had cleared away the remains of the evening meal she couldn’t wait to get her head down.
Hugh kept well behind his father and dodged into gardens to avoid being seen. At the top of the road Eddie did a quick turnabout, came briskly down the other side and went into Shannon’s porch, where the door opened. Hugh had not seen him ring the bell. He hung about in the shadow of the hedge, then slipped up the path and round the side.
He crouched under the window and looked through the space beneath the blind. What was he doing here anyway? Hugh wondered, in self-revulsion. He was a bloody peeping-Tom like that shithead Mark. He felt hot all over. What if anyone saw him? He’d really be in trouble. He was about to turn away when his father came into the room. Eddie crossed to the sideboard and poured himself a drink. He sat down on the couch.
Annette appeared in the doorway. She was wearing a silk, belted kimono. Hugh thought she looked very pretty. She walked across the room until she stood in front of Eddie. Smiling, she untied the belt and let the kimono slip off her shoulders. It fell in a crumpled heap on the floor. Hugh’s heart did a double-take. She was naked.
