The Scent of Rain

by Jones, Julianne

  When Madi was wheeled down to surgery Damien wasn’t with her. He arrived the next day, angry with her because she had kept him from his daughter’s birth. Weak and tired, Madi had apologised but underneath it all she was hurt and angry. She’d tried ringing him at home and at work. She had left messages. It wasn’t her fault that he’d not been present. But he seemed so thrilled with his baby daughter, especially when others were around, that she let it pass. It would all be so much better when they were home as a family.

  *********

  The door between the house and garage slamming shut woke Madi from an uneasy sleep. She had barely had time to sit up on the couch before her husband entered the room.

  One look at him and she knew he had been drinking. Before she could even greet him, he began to shout.

  “Look at this place: it’s a mess! And look at yourself: you’ve let yourself go. Why don’t you do something with your hair? And lose some weight! You’re not the woman I married. You’re a disgrace.”

  Madi swallowed and tried to ignore the pain his words had inflicted. “The midwife was here today …”

  “I don’t care what the midwife said. You’re my wife and I make the decisions around here. Where’s my dinner?”

  Madi blinked. “You said you wouldn’t be home tonight to eat. I just had a sandwich.”

  Damien yanked her to her feet, causing her to wince in pain. “Well, I don’t want just a sandwich for dinner. I want a decent meal.”

  “You could get some takeaway,” Madi offered fearfully.

  “I don’t want takeaway. I want a meal that my wife has cooked for me. And I want this place cleaned up. Now.”

  Madi started weeping. The combination of a caesarean, a new baby, lack of sleep, and now her husband’s indifference was too much to handle. She knew that showing any weakness would just make Damien angrier, but she couldn’t help herself.

  “Stop your blubbering or I’ll give you something to cry about.”

  “Damien, please. I’m tired and I’m in pain. I’m not meant to be doing anything for six weeks. Can’t you just order takeaway this once?”

  “If I’d wanted takeaway I would’ve ordered it earlier. I want a home-cooked meal and I’m going to get it. I’m tired of the way you’re always finding excuses to get out of your responsibilities. Look around. It’s obvious you’ve done nothing all day. I’ve been out working and making money while you’ve sat at home and done nothing. You’re a lazy good-for-nothing. The least you can do is look after me when I come home. Now get moving before I make you sorry.”

  As Madi stood at the sink doing the dishes while Damien ate the meal she’d cooked for him, the pain she’d been experiencing all day intensified. The midwife had warned her to take it easy and she’d considered calling on her mother but she knew that Damien would be angry if he found out. Another pain burnt trails through her abdomen and she clutched herself in surprise.

  Damien glared at her. “What’s up with you?”

  “Nothing.” It wouldn’t do any good to say anything. He would just torment her further. Better to finish the dishes and then go to bed.

  But Damien wasn’t finished yet. Suddenly he knocked his plate to the floor and stood up. “That was one of the worst meals I’ve ever eaten. It was disgusting. It’s a wonder it didn’t make me sick. Clean this mess up. And wash the floor before you’re finished.”

  He left the room and she heard the television turn on in another room. With tears running down her face she cleaned up the food from off the floor and then went for the mop and bucket. When she had finished, the pain was so intense that she could barely walk to the bathroom to ready herself for bed.

  Somehow she managed. As soon as her head hit the pillow she fell asleep. It must’ve only been an hour before the baby disturbed her. It seemed to take a while for her to wake to consciousness. She was so tired … she needed her sleep … the baby needed her … perhaps Jaena would go back to sleep … no, she must wake up and prepare the bottle …

  The next moment the bedroom light blazed and Damien was dragging her out of bed. “Shut that baby up. You wanted to be a mother – well, stop being so selfish and be a mother. I’ve got to start early in the morning and I can’t have my sleep disturbed by a screaming baby all night long.”

  Madi longed to remind him that he had been the one that had insisted she bottle-feed the baby. “That way I can help you out with the night feedings,” he’d promised. Her mother had been present at the time and had smiled indulgently. It was obvious that Damien loved her so much and would be a wonderful father. Of course, Madi had also believed him and had given in despite longing to nurse her baby, but she had discovered that once she came home with baby Jaena that Damien had no intention of helping with the baby’s care. Jaena was almost a month old and in that time Damien had not held her even once, let alone done anything to ease Madi’s load. Instead he had added to it in countless and, she suspected, deliberate ways.

  Stumbling from the bed she fixed the bottle and went into the baby’s bedroom where she picked her child up and cradled her in her arms as she gave her the bottle. This was what made it all worthwhile … this precious child. Jaena: God is gracious.

  She didn’t hear Damien leave for work the next morning; didn’t hear the baby wake and cry; didn’t hear the repeated ringing of the doorbell; didn’t even hear the glass shattering in the kitchen window next to the back door. It wasn’t until a hand gently shook her that she realised her mother had let herself into the house.

  “Mum.” It was a single word.

  “Madi, what’s wrong? What has happened?”

  “Hurt so bad.” She could barely get the words out.

  She saw her mother glance down and then turn white. A few moments later she heard her mother on the phone and realised she was ringing for an ambulance.

  “I’m all right,” she tried to say when her mother re-entered the room but the words came out slurred.

  “It’s okay, honey. You’re going to be okay.”

  She could see that her mother was trying to reassure herself as much as Madi. As her mother picked Jaena up and began to change her, Madi slipped once again into unconsciousness.

  *********

  Madi could hear the doctor talking to her husband across her bed, but could only make out some of the words.

  “Suffered a haemorrhage … the stitches torn … very serious … lucky her mother found her when she did … we had to operate … I’m afraid there will be no more children … at least a week in Hospital …”

  “Will my wife be okay?” She heard the concern in Damien’s voice and her heart soared.

  “I’m sure she’ll make a full recovery.”

  She heard another voice then and knew that her mother was also in the room. What was her mother saying?

  “I’ll take Jaena home with me and care for her. In a few days when Madi’s recovered she might want her to stay here, but in the meantime it’s probably best that Jaena come with me.”

  She heard Damien agree and felt sudden anger. Jaena was his child too. Couldn’t he take care of her?

  Some time later – was it even the same day – she woke and realised she was alone. Where was Damien? Why hadn’t he stayed? What had they done with her baby?

  She tried to cry out but sleep claimed her and she drifted off once more.

  *********

  Madi had few memories of those days. Pain and drugs kept her in a semi-conscious state and that was how she preferred it. Reality was too hard to face. When she finally recovered and returned home she couldn’t be sure if she’d dreamt or heard her husband telling her that she was now worthless because she could not give him the son he desired. Damien hadn’t turned out to be the man she thought he was, but he wasn’t as bad as that … was he?

  *********

  Madi heard Damien’s key in the door and turned, forcing a smile with which to greet her husband. One look at his face and she knew something was bothering him. So often he came home angry and
frustrated and she had to listen to him ranting and raving. She hoped it wouldn’t be long tonight. She was tired and little Jaena had taken a long time going to sleep and she didn’t want her woken. Sometimes he would forget to keep his voice low and she would be afraid that he’d wake their baby daughter, or worse, the neighbours would hear. She knew better than to remind him to be quiet when he was in one of his moods. It would only make him angrier and increase the volume of his voice even more.

  “I’ve just made myself a hot chocolate. Would you like one?”

  “I want something stronger than a hot chocolate.” She could hear the anger in his voice and something within her froze.

  “Coffee?”

  “No, I don’t want coffee. I need a drink.”

  There was no alcohol in the house. She’d grown up in a teetotalling family and had assumed that when Damien became a Christian that he would willingly give up his drinking sprees. He had – or she thought he had – but once they were married he had started drinking with his friends again. She had refused to have it in the house and so far had been able to stand her ground. If he slipped the occasional bottle into his car, she didn’t want to know about it.

  “How was the meeting?”

  “How do you think the meeting was? Your father,” and he threw in a few expletives that made her wince, “tells them what to think and like sheep they follow him. Anything I said was ignored. Your father controls them all just as he tries to control us.”

  Once, long ago, she’d told him how Daddy had been reluctant to accept their engagement and he’d never forgotten. Damien had held it against them both. Against Daddy for being concerned and wanting what was best for his daughter and wanting her to be sure; against her for trying to please Daddy and going away to spend some time thinking about her decision. Damien had insisted that if she really loved him then she wouldn’t have needed to take time to reflect. He didn’t understand that what she had done had nothing to do with how she felt about him, but more to do with trying to please Daddy.

  Madi picked up the mug from the kitchen bench and took a sip. It was still too hot and she put it down again. She wanted to go to bed but she didn’t know how he’d react and she didn’t want to walk past him with anything hot in her hands.

  She tried to reason with him. “Most of the elders and other deacons have been there a long time. They have attachments to the present church building. It’s not easy for them to think of tearing it down and starting again.”

  “But it’s the only thing that makes sense.” Damien thumped the wall. “It’s the best solution financially, but do you think I could get the others to see that? No, they just follow meekly after your father.” He swore. “How I hate that man.”

  She didn’t reply. Apart from Sundays when they attended church together she rarely saw her parents. Sometimes she was able to visit them at home or they would visit her, but almost always Damien would find out and an argument would ensue. He had even refused to celebrate family occasions such as birthdays with her parents, finding excuses to keep both her and Jaena away.

  “I saw you today.” It was a statement that was innocent and yet she felt her mouth turn dry with dread. She wracked her brains to think where he could have seen her. She’d spent most of the time at home except when she’d walked down to the post office to post a letter. It was nowhere near Damien’s workplace.

  “I took Jaena for a walk to post a letter. Otherwise we were at home.”

  “I know where you were.” There was fury in his voice. “I saw who you were with.”

  She frowned, puzzled. “It was only the two of us.”

  “Liar!” She jumped at his words.

  “Liar!” He spat out a second time. “You were with him. I saw you. You can’t deny it. I saw you. Laughing and flirting and carrying on.”

  “Who? I was with no one. I don’t know who you mean.”

  “Yes, you do,” he snarled. “You can’t deny it. He was there beside you and you were in your own little world. Madeline Johnstone, all high and mighty, not above flirting with another man when her husband’s at work.”

  “You mean the man outside the post office? He stopped to talk to Jaena and said how cute –”

  The fist came from nowhere, the force of it flinging her against the kitchen bench. Her elbow knocked her mug over and she watched as a dark stream ran down the font of the cupboards and began to pool on the floor. She raised a hand to her face and felt the stickiness of blood seeping between her fingers. She looked at Damien in shock. He’d never hit her this hard before.

  “Don’t you ever mention his name to me again.”

  “I didn’t. I don’t even know his name,” she pleaded in her own defence as the tears made streaks down her cheeks. She wondered if she’d have a bruise – or worse – in the morning and how on earth she would explain that.

  “I’ll teach you a lesson. I’ll make you sorry – sorry for ever talking to him. No man will look at you ever again.”

  Suddenly her head jerked back as he took hold of her hair and dragged her across to the drawers. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him open the top drawer – the one where they kept their sharp knives – and her heart went cold. Surely he wouldn’t …?

  She started to fight, but he just held on even harder. This was a nightmare: all a bad dream. Soon she would wake up and … suddenly she felt her head released and he slammed her body hard against the drawers where the handles dug painfully into her side. Sliding to the floor she was only dimly aware that he had left the room. She heard banging and thumping and prayed that he wouldn’t wake Jaena, and then the front door slammed and all was quiet.

  She cried then. Cried as she had never let herself cry before – not even on their honeymoon when she had realised that Daddy had been right. It had taken less than twenty-four hours for Damien to drop his charming façade and show his real character. Since then she had donned her own façade: one that didn’t let the rest of the world – and especially Daddy – know that she had been wrong – that the man she had married bore little resemblance to the man of her dreams – to the man she thought she knew.

  Glancing down she saw bits of hair sticking to her legs and to the congealing mess on the floor where the hot chocolate had collected. She lifted a trembling hand to her head and realised that he had cut off her hair: hair that had been her crowning glory. The hair that he had kissed before they were married and afterwards had used as a halter when he was angry with her and wanted to force her to do whatever it was that he thought she should do. How many times had she cried in humiliation when he had held her down by her hair and insisted that she pick up something off the floor that he or Jaena had left lying around?

  And now it was all gone. He’d gone and cut it off. All of it.

  The tears fell afresh.

  She was unsure how long she sat there not moving, frozen, and too afraid to unlock the emotions of the past three years for fear of what they would do to her.

  Jaena cried and Madi finally stirred. She looked at the clock and was surprised to see it was after two in the morning. Where had Damien gone? Why hadn’t he returned? She looked down at the floor again and saw the chocolate and the hair and suddenly a resolve took hold of her as if it were a physical being in the room with her, urging her on and imparting its own strength into her body. She must get out. Now. Before Damien returned. Before she changed her mind.

  Moving quickly she moved to her room and picked up her wallet and keys. A cardigan lay on the end of the bed and she grabbed that too. In Jaena’s room she took only a few seconds to throw clothes and nappies into a bag, then, wrapping her sweet daughter in a blanket and praying that Damien wouldn’t return – not now when she was leaving – when she had Jaena in her arms – she quietly let herself out of the house.

  *********

  Driving through the streaming rain she brushed at the hair clinging to her face and peered through the windscreen. Her face was wet – whether from tears or rain or blood, she couldn’t
tell. Jaena slept in the back seat where Madi had secured her, the hastily packed nappy bag thrown in alongside.

  It seemed an age before her father opened the door, his alarmed greeting bringing her mother running. Wordlessly Madi handed Jaena to her mother. Stepping through the door she pushed back the hood of her rain jacket and turned to confront their horrified faces.

  “What happened?”

  “Damien.”

  “Why?”

  She’d asked herself the same question a hundred times in the car.

  She shrugged. “Said he wanted to teach me a lesson.”

  “What did you do?”

  She winced at their accusatory tone, but it was understandable. A deacon in the church, Damien appeared to be the model husband and father. Few people – if any – suspected what lay beneath that perfect exterior. Even her parents who had been so wary of him at first now seemed won over by his charm, although she had at times wondered if they had really been as taken in as they appeared or if they were just making the best of the situation since he was now their son-in-law.

  She replayed the events of the previous hours in her mind. How could she tell her parents what had happened? It would hurt them unbearably. “I did nothing. He was angry about the meeting at church. He felt no one listened to him.”

  “But what has that to do with you?” Her mother had pulled back the blanket surrounding Jaena and was making comforting noises. Despite all the handling, Jaena slept on.

  “He took it out on me. It’s always been like that.” Unconsciously Madi reached up to touch her hair. Reaching almost to her thighs it had been her crowning glory. Now it lay jaggedly against her neck and cheeks, sawn off by her own husband.

  She saw her mother’s eyes follow her hand and the tears that filled her mother’s eyes. She hated to hurt them. Perhaps she shouldn’t have come. Her father’s words cut into her thoughts.

  “What will you do now?”

  “I need to get away. Not here. This is the first place he’ll look.”

  Her mother moaned, but her father nodded.

  The shrill of the phone broke the silence and her father went to answer it.