by Danielle Fox
“I’ve missed you,” she spoke in a velvet soft voice as I sat down on the chair opposite her, the cold plastic cooling my thighs through the thin material of my trousers. I recognised her tone of voice only slightly, from a single memory of when I was a small boy. She had stroked a gentle hand through my hair and soothed me with her soft words when my father had lashed out at me for the very first time. The very first of many. I could remember the throbbing pain in my jaw. It had hurt every time I had attempted to speak. But I couldn’t understand why. I could still feel the confusion I had felt then as he knocked me across the room. Why did Daddy want to hurt me? If my father had have caught her sneaking into my bedroom that night, he most certainly would have killed her. He didn’t take kindly to feeling undermined, but she had come to me anyway.
“I see you’ve replaced me,” she said in her soft voice.
“What do you mean, Mum?”
I watched as her eyes flicked to where Emily sat in the chair next to me, still clutching my hand reassuringly, and in that split second I saw my mother’s expression harden. Her eyes narrowed and closed slowly, and when she opened them again, they were blazing. Blazing with fury and pure hatred. Her knuckles turned to white as she gripped at the edge of her chair. I had seen this very look before.
“Mother, I haven’t replaced you,” I assured her in a calm voice. I should have been telling Emily to move, to run and to get out while she still could, but for reasons unbeknown to me, I didn’t.
“That’s why you don’t visit. You have this slut to look after you now, you don’t need me.” Her voice had changed entirely; it was no longer smooth and delicate, instead, it was harsh and cold as she spat her words at me.
“Emily is the reason I have visited today, actually.” Why am I trying to reassure this woman? She was crazy. She was the epitome of evil.
“Liar!” Her sickening growl sliced right through me. She must be possessed, I concluded. No human female could speak in a voice that would even resemble the noise that had just come from my mother’s mouth, it wasn’t natural.
I stared back at her, meeting her penetrative glare as she began to rock back and forth in her chair, slowly at first but rapidly getting faster, more aggressive. And then her tiny body lunged off her chair so fast that I barely had time to register her movement before my arms instinctively flew up to protect my face.
But no attack came. No steely fingers clawed at me. I gasped sharply as the realisation struck me, and as my head snapped to the left of me my stomach twisted agonisingly. “Emily!”
Emily’s empty chair was tipped on its back and beside it she lay, curled tightly into a ball as my mother clawed at her, her long waves of chestnut hair entwined and tangled around my mother’s scrawny fingers.
“No!” I heard myself roar as I jumped to my feet. I gripped at my mother’s arms and desperately tried to tug them behind her back, but she was strong, freakishly strong. I couldn’t release her hands from my fiancées hair without her taking her head with her. “Stop! Mum, please stop!” I begged.
Emily’s body was lifeless. She just lay there, not fighting back, not moving, yet I couldn’t help her. I couldn’t free her from her attacker, how could that be? A man of my size not even able to restrain a tiny woman who was barely more than five feet tall?
“Emily!” I choked through a loud sob as I sank to the floor.
I felt a soft hand stroke over my naked chest. Why am I naked? What the fuck is going on? And then it clicked, and thank God it did. I gasped aloud and my eyes flew open to see Emily’s face, blanketed by concern and worry as she stared down at me, her hand still stroking my chest. “It’s okay, baby. It’s just a dream.” Her voice was beautiful, so soft, so calming, and I was so glad to hear it. I circled my arms around her waist and pulled her close against me, holding her firmly whilst I focused on the light air that breezed across my neck as she exhaled regularly. “Are you okay?” she whispered, sending a shudder down my spine as her lips grazed my skin.
“I don’t think I can do it, Emily.”
“Do what? What is it?” She raised her head and her deep eyes locked with mine, but it was too painful to even look at her. I tore my gaze away and searched for a single point of focus on the ceiling. How could I have even considered taking her with me to visit my mother? How could I have been so damn pathetic to have thought I needed her there with me? I loved Emily far too much to let my mother anywhere near her, yet it had taken a dream so disgustingly disturbed to make me realise that. What sort of a man did that make me?
“I can’t go to my mother. I won’t.”
“Julian, whatever your dream was about, it was just a dream. You need to go, for Natalie.”
She was right, and I knew it, just as she always was. I couldn’t risk her telling my father about Natalie, I had to go and I had to be sweet. I had to get her on our side and keep her there. I sighed heavily and squeezed my eyes shut as I ran over my options in my head. And I found only one.
“You’re right, I’ll go. But I’m going alone.”
“Julian, I said I’d happily go with you. I meant it.” Her finger traced tiny circles on my chest as she spoke.
“I can’t believe I ever considered taking you with me. I won’t let her anywhere near you, Emily. I’ll go alone.”
“Because of your dream? You don’t have to do this alone,” Emily pressed.
“It’s just taken a dream to make me realise it, that’s all. It’s not safe for you.”
Emily lifted her head and, although I still couldn’t look at her, I could feel her eyes on my face. “It was just a dream, Julian.”
“It was a dream that could well have been reality, Emily. You can’t go there, ever.”
So, that was that. I would stick to my scheduled visit, but I would go alone. The very thought frightened me more than I would ever admit, but nowhere near as much as the thought of my mother harming Emily did. I couldn’t understand the depth of my feelings towards Emily, sure I knew I loved her, but I also loved Natalie yet I didn’t even feel this protective over her and she was my sister for goodness sake. Maybe it was simply the fact that Emily seemed so vulnerable, but even that conclusion didn’t make any sense to me because, after all, she really wasn’t vulnerable at all, I had just perceived her to be when I first met her as she clung to my chest looking so fearful as she hovered at the top of the stairs. I did wonder, that night, if she was ever going to let go of me. To be honest, a young, feeble girl clinging to my pressed suit was somewhat of an inconvenience as I had just had a blazing row with none other than Ryan and was desperately trying to make a swift exit before I smashed his face in in front of the entire work force. It wasn’t until she finally released me and looked up at me sheepishly from under her long lashes that I forgot all about why I was so angry in the first place. I suppose even then she had her strange way of calming me. The way her cheeks turned to crimson as she frantically began pushing back loose strands of hair that had managed to plaster themselves to her face was actually quite amusing to watch. But, the way she studied me, the depth in her eyes as she held my gaze, she wanted me. I could tell by the way her lips pouted as her eyes lingered on my mouth. But, the most disturbing fact was that I wanted her, too. In fact, the only reason I had released her so quickly and steadied her to her feet was that I was trying to avoid the humiliation of her feeling my erection pressed against her. Seriously, how could I have been even remotely turned on in such a situation? I knew at that very moment that this woman was something special; no woman had ever had that effect on me so instantly. I had never bothered to notice any woman’s smell before that moment but she had smelled divine, a sweet feminine scent oozed from her and seemed to linger with me for the rest of that evening until I finally couldn’t take anymore. It was either race back to The Lounge to find her, or go home and undress and shower before I did something rash. I chose the latter, but I still couldn’t get the girl out of my head. Who was she? Why had she had such an uncontrollable effect on me? And wh
y the hell did I feel the constant urge to go to her, to touch her, to smell her? Jesus Christ, I sound like a lunatic. And then, there she was at my lecture that I had agreed to do simply as a favour to Mr Olsen, and I knew then that I wouldn’t be able to keep away from her. No matter how hard I tried.
My first full work day, in what felt like a very long time, seemed to drag unbearably. I had meeting after important meeting and, to be honest, I couldn’t actually segregate one discussion from the next as I entered my sixth of the day. My mind raced with thoughts of my impending hospital visit in a couple of hours time and I couldn’t focus on a single thing that Mark, my solicitor, was saying. Oh well, Ryan was my acting assistant for this particular one so, although my entire empire could have depended on it for all I knew, I left him to do the talking, adding the odd nod or grunt of approval from time to time. My iPhone vibrated against my outer thigh - two buzzes, I noticed, and my heart skipped. Two buzzes meant a text, and who would be texting me besides Emily? I discreetly slipped it from my trouser pocket and held it under the table as I clicked the screen.
‘Hope you’re having a good day Mr Scott. If I don’t speak to you before then I hope this evening goes well with your mum, I’m still happy to come if you need me. I love you! Emily. Ps, missing you like crazy! X’
It wasn’t until I heard Ryan’s most unsubtle cough beside me that I realised I was grinning at my phone like an idiot. Of course, everyone else around the table couldn’t see my phone, could they, so I assumed it would appear to them that I was actually grinning like an idiot at my own penis. Great! I quickly straightened my face. “Yes, good point gentlemen.” I nodded, trying to make it look as if I was in fact smiling at the content of the conversation. The same conversation that I had not listened to a single word of for the past five minutes. Seriously, I would be broke and homeless before long if I carried on allowing myself to be so distracted by Emily. She was infectious, I couldn’t help it.
“Are you feeling okay, Mr Scott? You don’t seem to be quite with us,” Mark asked, crinkling his heavy, greyed brows as he studied me.
“Yes, I’m fine. Just a headache, that’s all,” I lied, struggling to keep the grin off my face.
As soon as the attention in the room turned back to Ryan, I pressed reply.
‘I wouldn’t describe my day as a pleasurable one! Hoping yours is better! I am currently in my 6th meeting and have just made a fool out of myself! Will call you before I leave work and I meant what I said, I’m going alone. Can’t wait to be home with you. I love you. Julian x.’
I coughed - far too deliberately - to disguise the buzz that followed a minute later and the entire table of people looked up at me expectantly. And all I could manage was a tight lipped smile. Seriously, these people must have been thinking I was retarded.
‘I can’t imagine you ever being capable of making a fool of yourself x’
‘They think I am smiling at my penis, thanks to your text Miss Braxton. And quite possibly believe that I’m retarded!’
I pressed send, realising my wide grin once more and desperately trying to contain it as Ryan kicked my shin under the table. I reached for my glass of water and, feeling the buzz against my thigh, quickly scraped the glass against the table - as opposed to simply picking it up - in an attempt to mask the vibrations that would reveal my ignorance, without drawing too much attention to myself. That clearly didn’t work as the sound echoed loudly around the quiet room almost painfully and every pair of eyes snapped up to identify the offending screech.
“Sorry.” I shrugged before raising the glass to my lips and taking a large mouthful whilst peering down at my phone screen.
‘Well, I don’t blame you, who wouldn’t want to smile at your penis, it’s a nice penis! X’
The water, that I had been unable to swallow with my head down in such a position, left my mouth in a powerful burst, spraying the entire table in front of me and the paperwork that covered it.
“Julian! What the hell?” Ryan screeched as he jumped out of his seat to avoid getting sprayed.
“I’m so sorry, gentlemen,” I choked. “It seems I am not feeling well at all. Ryan, if you could please continue without me,” I instructed, sliding my phone into my pocket as I stood. “Please excuse me.” I strolled casually out of the room, biting my bottom lip to prevent the grin that was threatening my lips as I noticed Ryan’s exasperated expression.
‘You and your mouth, Miss Braxton. I have successfully covered my solicitor in water and yes, the water came from my mouth whilst reading your last text.’
‘Oh my God! You didn’t?’
‘Oh my God I did! Have excused myself from the meeting, good job as I wasn’t listening anyway, you are very distracting. And thank you for the compliment on my penis! I may let you admire it later.’
Chuckling quietly to myself, I pressed send before calling her as I said I would.
The drive to the hospital, although I preferred to call it the institution, took just under an hour. My fingers drummed nervously against the steering wheel as I pulled to a stop in the car park and studied the building in front of me. It didn’t look like a hospital, or an institution. At least I didn’t think it did but I can’t say I’ve visited many in my lifetime. The building looked much smaller than I remembered it, and almost welcoming. It looked no different to a large stately home, in fact.
I took a deep steadying breath before walking into the reception and greeting the elderly woman at the desk. Her hair was a thin layer of tight grey curls and her face clearly hadn’t aged well as her deep wrinkles covered every inch of her yellowy skin.
“Hello, I’m here to see Mrs Scott,” I stated, trying to mask the crack in my voice.
“And, you are?”
“Julian Scott, her son.”
The woman’s eyes widened momentarily before she began frantically searching her desk with her fumbling weathered hands, for what I had no idea. “Ah, there they are,” she thrilled, grasping a large bunch of keys and rocking them back into her palm. “Right this way please, sir.”
With a deep shaky breath, I followed her through a large metal door, above which hung the lone blue sign that identified it as the ‘Secure ward’.
Chapter Eleven
Jesus Christ, my mother looked terrible. I followed the nurse into the small cosy room that looked more like a bedroom than a secure cell and my heart sank as she looked up at me through heavy, saddened eyes. Her once auburn hair was now heavily masked by thick, wiry grey strands that tangled together in knots around her frail looking shoulders. Her hazel eyes looked hollow and were surrounded by deep lines and even deeper dark bags and her lips had definitely thinned considerably. My mother was who I had inherited my full plump lips from but you wouldn’t tell that by looking at them now as they wrinkled loosely into a seemingly permanent grimace.
I sat down on the flowery armchair that stood next to the bed where she was nervously perched. “Hello, Mother.” My voice was barely more than a whisper as I fought back against the lump that had formed in my throat. I had hated my mother for all these years, but seeing her now, so lifeless, so completely empty, kind of made me feel sorry for her. She brought this on herself, I told myself, but I wasn’t sure I believed that anymore as I studied her gaunt appearance. Yes, she chose to put up with my father’s abuse, she must have known it would end up destroying us all one day, but I suppose she could never have predicted the severely violent attack that came out of the blue and probably ended up landing her here. All she had actually done was let my father’s friend into the house and made him feel welcome whilst awaiting his return home, but she could never do anything right, could she. And that one kind act was certainly the biggest mistake of her life.
“What made you come?” my mother whispered, her voice trembling as she picked at her fingernail.
“Honestly? I don’t know,” I lied. I couldn’t exactly tell her the truth could I? ‘Well actually, we were afraid you’d tell Dad about Natalie so I’ve come to prete
nd to love you and pretend to care to keep you sweet’. No, I wouldn’t imagine that would have gone down too well. “So, how are you?” What a stupid fucking question to ask her. It was clear to anybody that she was very far from okay, she looked awful. And I mean awful.
“I’m okay; they tell me as long as I take my meds I’ll be fine.”
“You mean you don’t always take them?” I asked, emphasising the always dramatically.
“Sometimes I don’t feel like it. Isabella tells me you’re doing very well in business.”
“I am, yes. What’s it like here? Are they treating you well?”
I had no idea where my sudden concern for this woman was coming from, but I couldn’t seem to suppress it. She just looked so miserable, so vacant and I couldn’t help myself from envisioning her somewhere else, somewhere private where she would have much more interaction rather than being locked in a cell on her own for the rest of her sorry existence. Even as I had entered to visit my own mother the door had been locked behind me, and now two care workers stood against the wall, pretending not to listen to our awkward conversation. Why was I even remotely rattled by any of this? Why should I care about her happiness after what she did to me, to us? I shouldn’t, I knew that much, but looking into the eyes of someone who was so clearly defeated - that someone being my own mother - absolutely crushed me. And that was something I hadn’t prepared myself for.
