Close Your Eyes

by Rachel Abbott

  I heard Aram’s footsteps retreating, pulled the door open, peeked around to check he had gone and rushed across to Mum, wrapping my arms around her, hugging her tight.

  ‘What are you doing?’ she said, shrugging me off.

  ‘Does Dad know yet? He’ll be thrilled, and I’m so excited!’

  She slowly turned her head towards me and looked into my eyes. Her expression was almost a sneer. ‘It’s got nothing to do with Joel. Forget what you heard.’

  I didn’t understand what she meant about Dad. How could it have nothing to do with him? But I could tell she didn’t want to talk to me. She ran the tap to clean the sink and turned to walk out of the door.

  I didn’t see her after that for four days, and was told she was in bed, ill, not to be disturbed. When she returned to her duties in the kitchen, she was pale and even more quiet than usual. I caught Dad looking at her with a puzzled frown and realised she hadn’t shared the good news, so I waited, expecting to see more obvious signs of the baby growing inside her. It never happened.

  I didn’t know why there was no baby and knew better than to ask, but eight years later, at the moment I realised that I might be pregnant, I felt icy trickles down my spine. Why were there never any babies born at Lakeside?

  By that time our home was full of people – all invited by Aram – and there were a few young couples who had been with us for years. But there were never any babies.

  Aram hadn’t stinted on my biology lessons, and I knew about contraception. I also knew that anything that came into the house arrived via the bulk weekly supermarket shop, and the storeroom was open to anyone to help themselves. I was certain there were no contraceptives there.

  I lowered myself back onto the bed. In the years since Mum appeared to have lost her baby, there had been other times when other women had been confined to their bedrooms for a few days without explanation, and Aram rarely allowed anyone to plead ill health. He preferred people to battle through any illness, saying we shouldn’t give in to weakness. Aram had said from the very first day that children were a distraction to his teaching. They just weren’t allowed here, and I was beginning to understand why. He demanded one hundred per cent devotion, and a baby would give its parents different priorities – he would no longer be the sole recipient of their adoration.

  As the shocking thoughts of what he might have done ran through my mind, the nausea ratcheted up a notch. What if the ‘something’ that Aram had given Mum to take away her sickness had taken away far more than that? Would he do that? Would he intentionally abort a baby?

  I knew the answer.

  Until that moment I hadn’t known whether to be delighted or appalled that I was pregnant, but I was now certain that Aram must never know. I was not going to let him harm my baby. I wrapped my arms around my stomach, stroking my skin, and promised my baby that I would keep him or her safe.

  But how could I? Aram wouldn’t allow me to leave; he believed he had the power to make me stay, evidence of what I’d done that he said would tie me to him forever, and I’d never doubted it. Could I defy him? Could I risk everything?

  For my child, I knew I had to, and there was only one person who could help me.

  The next couple of days were an agony of waiting, of pretending that everything was normal, even faking period pains, but I could do nothing until Wednesday. I could barely eat. I managed to hide the nausea, which was helped by my lack of appetite and dry mouth, and finally Wednesday morning arrived.

  I sneaked out of the house, terrified that someone would see me, but at the last moment I had the wit to pick up a laundry basket as if I was heading to the washing line. I was too early, so I crouched low at the back of the garage, waiting for the sound of footsteps crunching over gravel. I knew he’d be alone, but I didn’t want him to call out at seeing me there, so I waited until he was unlocking the car. Wednesday was his day to do the shopping, and my only chance of catching him alone.

  ‘Dad!’ I whispered.

  He jumped and spun round, first in one direction then the other. I hadn’t called him Dad for years, but he was still Dad in my head. Then he saw me hiding in the far corner.

  ‘India!’ His voice was too loud, and I put my finger to my lips.

  ‘I need your help. Don’t ask me any questions, but I need to get away from here.’

  He said nothing, just stared.

  Finally he spoke, his voice brittle with emotion. ‘You’re not just talking about a trip into town, are you?’

  ‘No. I need to go.’ I swallowed hard. ‘And I won’t be coming back.’

  He shook his head slowly. ‘He won’t let you go, girl.’

  I knew he was right. Aram had become increasingly obsessed with possessing my soul as well as my body, but something inside me was fractured, and he found my remoteness infuriating. He wanted to own me, and I was certain he would never let me leave.

  ‘I’m not going to ask him. I’m asking you.’

  He looked towards the open garage door as we heard footsteps heading our way. I scuttled back into the shadows as a figure appeared. It wasn’t Aram, but it didn’t matter. Anyone who saw us having a private conversation would report back.

  I listened to a brief exchange as Dad was asked to pick up some white emulsion paint, and then heard the footsteps retreating.

  ‘He’s gone,’ Dad called softly, and I stepped back towards him. ‘We can’t talk now. If the car’s not out of here in the next minute or two, there’ll be questions. And I need – for your sake as much as anyone’s – to keep his trust. But I’ll help you, I promise.’

  ‘Why don’t you leave too? Please, Dad. We could just get in the car and drive away. Come with me.’

  A look of such sadness clouded his big brown eyes, and for a moment my mind flashed back to our little flat: to Mum and Dad swaying, their arms round each other, laughing, his eyes dancing faster than his feet. And in that instant I wanted to commit murder.

  ‘We’ll speak soon. I’ll find a way to help you, DeeDee,’ he said, and tears blurred my eyes at his use of my old pet name. ‘But you know why I can’t leave.’

  I did, although I didn’t understand. He was staying for Mum – the wife who barely spoke to him, who worshipped at the feet of another man.

  ‘She gave up everything for me, you know.’ He shook himself. ‘I must go. Take care, my lovely girl.’

  All that had happened since we moved to Lincolnshire meant nothing to him. Mum had given up her comfortable middle-class life to be with him, and she had stuck by Dad, never wavering even when she had to work every hour possible to help feed and clothe us all. As far as he was concerned, it was payback time.

  58

  MARTHA

  I feel so ashamed of what I asked Dad to do for me all those years ago, and I’m appalled by the impact it’s had on his life. In spite of that, I’m about to ask him to make another life-changing decision, and I realise it’s selfish of me.

  Before I can say anything he reaches out a hand and gently clutches my arm.

  ‘Should you be here, DeeDee? Isn’t it dangerous? He’s had people out looking for you, you know,’ he says. ‘He sent them all over the country. He posted a picture of you on his YouTube channel, and he has hundreds of thousands of followers now. They searched everywhere but still I wouldn’t tell him anything. I’m so relieved they never found you.’

  I’d known about Aram’s channel but had never dared to look. I wasn’t sure if a channel owner could see who was watching and I couldn’t risk it. I was petrified his eyes would reach out to me and somehow drag me back into his control, although that wasn’t the worst of my worries.

  For years I have been driven by two fears: that Aram will find me and claim access rights to Alfie, or he will use the evidence he holds – proof of what happened on the most shameful night of my life – and the police will hunt me down and lock me up for years. In either case, Aram will get his hands on my son, not because he wants his child, but to torment me – to punish me for r
unning away. Whatever his motivation, it is something I cannot bear to think about. Now I have a third fear – that the Manchester police will arrest me for Genevieve’s murder, and Alfie will be taken from me by social services. The end result will be the same: Aram will hear that I am in prison, and he’ll get custody of Alfie.

  I will kill before I allow that to happen.

  In spite of my fierce determination to protect my son, when I think of Dad being shunned for two years, it nearly breaks my heart.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ I tell him, knowing the words are inadequate.

  ‘No, DeeDee, I’m sorry. Aram tried everything to make me tell him what I knew, but I refused to look him in the eye. He was livid. I’ve never seen him like that. Nicola told him things would be better now that you’d gone, but he said she understood nothing. That hurt her.’

  ‘Poor Mum,’ I say, and I mean it. She was so tightly in his thrall that she no longer knew the difference between right and wrong.

  Dad reaches out a hand and rests it gently on Alfie’s curls. ‘She always wanted more children, you know. We’d planned to have three or four – do you remember us talking about it?’ He looks at the floor. ‘She’s been pregnant twice since he came. Both times she lost the baby.’

  I only knew about one occasion, and I’m not convinced it was a natural miscarriage, but I’m not about to tell Dad what I think.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ is all I can think of to say again. ‘What happened after they shunned you?’

  ‘I became ill. They kept me alive but otherwise ignored me.’ He lifts his eyes to mine. ‘I’m better now, and it was worth it to get you away from him. I owed you that. We should never have let things get to the way they were. We failed, me and your mum, and even though she can’t bring herself to admit it, she knows, deep down.’

  I want to ask how she is, but time is precious.

  ‘I saw her yesterday at the supermarket. Aram was with her, but there was hardly any shopping. What’s going on?’

  He looks anxiously at his watch. ‘Aram said he wanted some quiet time for reflection. Everyone except me and your mum has gone – for now, at least. They’re due back next week.’

  This sounds strange to me. Aram thrives on the adulation of his followers and the vast sums of money he collects from them along the way. What is going on?

  I don’t have time to worry about that. I’ve been planning the words I would say to Dad, and now they all come out in a rush.

  ‘Dad, I need to ask you something. I need your help – desperately. I’ve thought so hard about it, but I don’t think I have any choice but to beg you to help me again. This time it’s huge – a sacrifice so much greater than last time.’

  A look of wariness crosses Dad’s face. I know he’ll want to help, but he has no idea of the scale of what I’m about to ask.

  ‘I don’t have long, DeeDee.’

  ‘If you agree to help me, you’ll have all the time in the world. I’m asking you not to go back – ever – to Lakeside.’

  He wasn’t expecting that. His head jerks back as if I’ve hit him.

  He stutters, ‘I… I c-can’t… What?’

  I reach out and grasp his arms. ‘This is dreadful of me, I know. But because of how things are, mistakes I’ve made, I need to ask you to make this huge decision, and I have so little time to persuade you. If you’re with me, we have only minutes to discuss it. If you’re not, you need to go.’

  Finally he seems to get his voice back, but he’s looking around as if he’s expecting someone to be watching. ‘What do you want me to do?’

  ‘I want you to take care of Alfie. I’m going to go back to Lakeside to face Aram. I need you to look after your grandson in case something happens to me. I may be back in a few hours, but it could be days – or even years.’ I don’t say never, but I know it’s a possibility. ‘If I’m not back, I need you to do what I did. Take Alfie and run as far as you can, to somewhere Aram won’t find you.’

  Dad’s eyes go to Alfie, to me and then back to Alfie. A look of despair crosses his face, and I am in no doubt how difficult this is. I don’t know why, but I wasn’t expecting his next words.

  ‘What about your mum?’

  The silence between Dad and me has lasted at least a minute, and it seems longer. Alfie is tugging at my hand, wondering what is going on, but I have to ignore him and keep my eyes on Dad. The longer he is here with me, the more difficult it will be for him to go back.

  Finally, he speaks, his voice croaky as if the words are almost too difficult to say. ‘Why have you come back, DeeDee?’

  ‘It’ll take too long to explain, Dad. We don’t have time, and if I tell you, you’ll be implicated too. If you can’t take your grandson, you need to leave in the next few minutes. A queue in the post office could have delayed you, but not by much.’

  He’s torn, I can see that, and I have to speak quickly, putting every ounce of urgency into my voice.

  ‘Aram must never take Alfie. You do understand that, don’t you? I’m going to make sure of it – as far as I can. But to do that, I really need you.’ He nods, and I thank God that he doesn’t need me to spell it out. ‘I’m in trouble – big trouble – and I can’t keep running. I need to deal with Aram and I can’t take Alfie to Lakeside with me. You must see that. If you agree to this, I know you can never go back. If you don’t help me, I have no idea what will happen to my baby.’

  ‘Why are you in trouble?’

  ‘I can’t explain it to you in five minutes. It would take much longer – and just as you don’t have time, neither do I. It’s enough to say that without you, social services will take Alfie – probably today – and they’ll want to know who his father is. I can’t let that happen, Dad. You must see that?’ I pause, and I can see he’s torn. ‘I’m booked into a B and B. You can take Alfie there. I’ve got money, and you’ll be able to access it if you need to – if I’m not back.’ He’s shaking his head slowly from side to side. ‘Please, Dad, you’re the only chance Alfie has. You may be all he has. You could love him like you used to love me.’

  My voice cracks as I say the words, and it’s Dad’s undoing.

  ‘I never stopped loving you, child. It was all so difficult.’

  I nod, unable to speak.

  ‘But even if I say I’ll help you, what will we do about your mum?’

  This is so hard to do, but I force myself to say the words. ‘Does she even know you’re there any longer, Dad? Did she shun you too?’

  I know the answer, and he looks away. ‘Yes, but since I’ve been ill, things have changed. Only a little, but still, it’s progress. There’s a definite shift in her behaviour. She comes to me now when she’s confused, when he’s done something to hurt her. I think she needs me. She even told me about the babies.’

  That was kind of her.

  For a moment I think I’ve said the words out loud, sarcasm dripping from my tongue, but fortunately I haven’t. His love for my mother never wavers, whatever she does. I’ve been assuming that by now he would have accepted defeat, but he hasn’t.

  ‘I don’t have time for you to go back and talk to Mum. If I get a chance, I’ll talk to her. But I don’t know when everything’s going to explode. We’re talking hours, maybe minutes. Dad, without you Alfie has no happy ending. You’re his only chance.’

  I want to play on his guilt, tell him he ruined my childhood, and he owes me this. But that’s not how I feel. He was a victim as much as anyone. I glance at my watch. Time is running out. I need to get to Aram before the police get to me.

  ‘Take my car. Go to the B and B with Alfie. I’ll take the Range Rover and go to Lakeside. I’ll try to find a way to talk to Mum. I’ll do my best to persuade her to leave – to come to you. But Dad, I can’t emphasise this enough. We don’t have long.’

  Dad looks understandably bemused by everything I’m saying, and Alfie is starting to whimper again. He can sense my stress, and he’s so in tune with my feelings that he’ll know something is killing me i
nside. I put my hand on his head and stroke the wiry curls.

  Dad looks at him too.

  ‘We stole your childhood, me and your mum. It was never our intention, but everything was so overwhelming. It all seemed right at the time. It felt as if we’d discovered the truth about life, but now I know what it really was, and it destroyed us all. If I do as you ask, I’ll be deserting your mother, something I swore I would never do.’ He pauses, lips clamped firmly together. ‘I don’t know if I’m strong enough. It’s not a perfect life, but it’s the one I know. Everything I have is in that house.’

  I want to scream ‘Not everything!’ but I’ve been out of his life for six years. I knew this would be difficult, and I’ve always known I might fail. I should have boarded a train with Alfie and gone to Northumberland. We may never have been found. I push the thought away. We would always have been on the run. Would Aram have ever given up? I either run for the rest of my life, or I stand up and face him.

  I have no more words for Dad. I should have planned for his refusal, worked out what I was going to do, and I didn’t. I feel my shoulders sag. I feel defeated.

  ‘I understand. It was too much to ask. But you’re still a young man with a long life ahead of you. Are you prepared to live the rest of it the way you’re living now?’ I wait a moment, but he doesn’t answer, so I reach up a hand to touch his cheek. ‘Bye, Dad. I’m so sorry if I’ve upset you.’

  I give Alfie’s hand a squeeze and turn back towards my car. I hadn’t realised walking away would be so difficult – every bit as devastating as it had been the first time – and my throat aches with suppressed tears.

  59

  LAKESIDE

  For three weeks after I’d asked Dad to help me escape, I waited. I went out of my way to pass him in the corridor, to say hello, to catch his eye. But we were never alone. I had to be careful how I looked at him during meals, desperate to make sure no one noticed the pleading in my eyes. Was he going to help me? I didn’t know.